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Tags include father/daughter incest, BDSM, anal fingering, come eating, spanking.
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Her shins were tied tight against her thighs. Her arms were stretched and bound behind her arched back under her. Her tits were erect and wobbled in the cold air as she gyrated her hips up in the air with want. A bar kept her knees apart and her moist pussy open. She slurped through her ball gag as spittle leaked from her mouth. She heard the door to the bathroom open. He must be able to see her now, but she could not see him past the blind fold. She was shivering. He could see everything. Her father saw his little girl tied up on his bed and wet for his cock. He now knew how much his daughter wanted to fuck him.
Had this been a mistake? Had she gone too far?
Earlier that day she had been looking into the mirror thinking about her mother. The funeral had been a week before, but she was still at her fathers house. He was living alone now, and she knew how much he wanted her to stay and keep him company. She had not noticed it before he said it, but she really did look a lot like her mother now. She had always tried to fight it, but now she took it a a complement. She let her golden locks curl now instead of straitening them. She wore a dress and shawl like her mother used to. Her father seemed happy about it, and she did like the look of the woman in the mirror. Even if she did still see her mothers ghost there.
She made breakfast the way her father liked it. Since she had been back for over a week, she found her father had gone back into his old habits. He walked in with boxers and a t-shirt. "Morning Marie-" He stopped himself with a groan, "Sally." he corrected. He really was a creature of habit.
"It's fine dad." She rolled her eyes and served him breakfast. "Really, what are you going to do when I leave? I only have so many vacation days." She hinted.
"You can head out any time you like, I know how it is." he sat down. He was the best a man could be at forty five. Perhaps he could have stopped smoking, but he ate well and still worked out like he was still serving in the navy. "Don't let me slow you down."
"I think I'll leave tomorrow then." She said, cleaning the dishes. "I can come visit again at Christmas."
"Sounds good." he smiled. "Man, you really did good with these eggs today Sally. Just like your mothers."
Sally looked away with a twitch of regret. There was so much she hadn't learned from mom before she passed. "It's already eight, by the way."
"Good lord you are right!" he looked at the clock and got up quickly. "I need to change-" he jogged off and Sally giggled. He was so forgetful sometimes, but he did care a lot about being on time.
When he was dressed and ready for work she fell into line with old rituals. It had been years since she had lived in the same house as him, but she still remembered the drill. Mom would be at one side of the door, and she would be on the other. Her father walked to the door, leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek like old times. Then he turned and stopped himself. He almost kissed the phantom of his wife. His smile faded for a moment into a furrowed, sorrowful frown. He took a deep breath before he turned back to Sally and said, "I'll see you tonight!"
He was doing better, but it was still noticeable. He was hardly himself for several days. Sally had a melancholic pout as she watched him leave the driveway. He would keep getting better. She knew he would. But seeing him like this was horrible. She remembered him as her strong, loving, protective father. He was still all those things, but she could feel the cracks forming now. He had been so strong because he had something to protect and work for. Now he was the only one in the house. She wasn't sure how he would cope.
She cleaned the house as best she could, but there was nothing more to clean. She was restless. She remembered some spots she had forgotten, like the attic and the backyard. Usually her mother cleaned those. Then she remembered another room she had left to her mother for so long.
Her parents room. She paused at the doorway before entering, as if it were hallowed ground. The room seemed spotless. Her father must have done that before he left. She looked around and saw her mother picture on the bedside table. She saw a television across the room from the bed. There was a door to her parents restroom in the corner, and in the other corner was a closet.
She decided to tidy up more in here. It could use a vacuum, and there were some odds and ends around, like a receipt on the table and a movie that could be re-organized.
She got to work with the most obvious things first. Once the floor and tabletops were cleaned and dusted she looked around for where to put the movie case. There didn't seem to be a good place she could see.
She went to the closet and found an appropriate shelf. She placed it back where it should go. She looked around the closet and saw that is was quite the mess as well. There were some clothes laying about, and a big cardboard box marked for the trash.
She picked it up. It wasn't too heavy. She turned and was about to leave the room when the bottom of the box fell out. She cursed at herself as the contents spread out over the floor. "Fuck!" She shook her head and put the box back together clumsily. She would have to hold it from the bottom this time. She knelt down and picked up one of the items-
Her heart froze. In her hands was a vibrator. "Agh!" She dropped it and saw the floppy, rubbery thing wriggle as it bounced. She looked around. It was all sex toys. There was a red ball in the center of black straps. There was a blindfold, handcuffs, ropes, and other things she didn't even have the creativity to understand. She was breathing heavily just looking at them. She clenched her hand to her chest.
She had never confided in anyone about her own sexuality. She'd had sex of course. But she had never been close enough with a guy to trust him with this sort of thing. She had been interested. Very interested. But she never had a boyfriend long enough to ask him to tie her up. She had just read stories. In time she had just learned to be happy pleasuring herself and stopped going out with guys so much. Seeing it all laid out here made her stomach feel like a lead weight.
She gulped and tried to forget. She guessed the desire was genetic or something. She put the items back in the box. She would put it back and pretend she didn't see it. This wasn't her business. Dad wanted it thrown out for a good reason.
But she could not help thinking about it as she touched the leather and metal. She paused when she looked at some of the straps and chains. She imagined how it would feel. She imagined using them and felt her heartbeat in her ears. Yes, she could see it clearly. If she put her knee through that strap and pulled it tight, it would lock her leg together. Then the other. Then her legs would be splayed apart, helpless and open. She lifted her dress slightly to see if it would fit. To her horror and surprise, it fit snugly. Almost too snug. She panicked as she found that it slipped perfectly down. It could hold her ankle to her rear tightly. He leg was locked in place. She had to relax with a deep breath before she could pull it off. This could only mean one thing.
Her mother had worn this. And it was a perfect fit for her. There was something terrible and incredibly sexy about that. Sally shook her head to clear the image out of her head. She had to stop all this fantasizing. She looked down at her dress. It looked just like the ones her mother would wear. She bit her lower lip and trembled as she touched her own waist, her own bust, and the shoulders of the dress. This is what her mother looked like. This is what her father liked to see.
She put the rest of the toys back into the box in a rush. She quickly threw it back into the closet. She had to think about something, anything else. But she stopped again as she saw one of the tapes on the shelf.
"Marie, 2015." It was a home video. She could not help herself. She picked it up and read the description. She covered her mouth in shock, though, she wasn't sure what she was expecting. Perhaps she had hoped it would say "Anniversary" or, "Our trip to Kentucky".
Instead it read, "Sex tape." How very creative.
She was close to hyperventilating. She put the tape into back onto the shelf and wiped her hands on her dress before slamming the door closed. She felt like she needed to wash her hands after touching all of that.
But she kept staring at the closed closet door. She felt like she was a child again outside her parents room, wondering if she could bother them about her nightmares or just go back to bed. She held her dress tightly.
Her fingers betrayed her and inched the closet door back open, peaking in as if someone might notice. She felt gross. She felt weird. She felt like a weird pervert. She lightly plucked the home video back up into her hands and felt a lump forming in her throat. Curiosity burned in her chest. Her throat was dry. Her hands were sweaty and shaking.
She searched the whole house and made sure all the doors and windows were locked and shuttered. Then she double checked and made sure that the time was right. It would be several hours before Dad got home. Then she went back to her parents room, turned on the television, and put the video inside the player.
She sat on the edge of the bed like a patient little girl. Her hands were in her lap and her eyes were focused. A part of her hoped that it was some joke video. Maybe an SNL skit she had never seen.
It wasn't. It was exactly what she thought it was. She looked up at the top of the TV, because that was where the video seemed to have been filmed from. Then she looked back at the bed. It was in the same orientation as the video. She saw her own reflection in the screen. It was surreal. the bed in the video lined up with the bed in the reflection. It looked less like a film and more like a mirror. It almost looked like she was a ghost sitting on the bed at her parents made love behind her. Though, making love was not the right word for it.
Making love is a term for something more gentle than what she was watching. The items in the box were strapped to her mother tight. In fact, some were strapped inside of her. She wasn't watching a casual romantic evening. She was watching her parents fuck. She gulped and heard the sounds as well. The moans and groans. She squishing, sloshing slaps. She gasped and covered her mouth as she saw her father do things she never thought he was capable of. Harsh things. Painful things. Things that made her mother squeal. Things Sally had always wanted a man to do to her, but never had the intimacy to ask. She watched her mothers skin go red from force and pleasure. She watched her father turn into a machine of violence and dominance. She had never seen him like this. She always thought he was so gentle.
