Not once did Mason think that he'd look at his daughter the way he currently did.
He felt taken by a need, an urge, a yearning to raw dog and cum inside his own flesh and blood. Over and over.
But he knew that would be wrong. Even so, his breathing grew ragged at the mere sight of her.
'I've come to realize that my daughter... is too sexy for her own good. I want her... I want to cum inside her - all over her.'
The twenty-one-year-old woman was naked.
There she sat confidently on a stool, one leg crossed over the other - back set to the kitchen counter: Hayley Keys.
She truly was too sexy for her own good - slender. Beautiful, too. Absolutely gorgeous, really. With full lips, pale skin, and that luscious cascading black hair of hers that fell to the sides of her D-cup breasts, Mason's daughter looked like the kind of woman you'd see being a supermodel.
Mason gulped hard. He felt blood rushing to his cock, but realizing that his daughter would see his erection through his shorts, he dug his nails into his palms to let pain overcome lust.
Sheepishly parting his lips, he said,
"Hay-Hayley, what are you-?"
"Be quiet, dog."
The woman had spoken with a thick French accent. No emotion dwelled in her eyes, yet an overwhelmingly mighty authority had slipped out of her voice.
Mason was wide-eyed, shocked beyond measure.
'Where... did that accent come from? She was only in France for a wee-'
"Return to just staring at me like you did before. You speak solely when you are spoken to. For all the detrimental babying you did to me, father of mine, I have plans for you. On. Your. Knees."
For some reason, the man couldn't help but avoid her gaze and give a nervous nod, kneeling.
'Why do I feel...'
His daughter came off the stool and sauntered before him. A wolfish smirk crossed her face.
'so intimidated...? What the fuck happened to my daughter in France?'
__
It was one week ago.
Hayley and her father were standing inside the airport - face-to-face. The chattering and walking of people surrounded them.
The glasses-wearing attractive--not supermodel attractive--Hayley had a nervous smile, while Mason was frowning; brows creased with worry.
"Honey," he said,
"are you sure about this? I know this whole French female confidence treatment is doing really well, but, is there really a need for something like this? You have a great job and a dad that loves you. You're fine, aren't you?"
Hayley gazed off into the distance for a short while, looking like she was about to break down into tears. She balled her hands into fists, swinging her head to her father with a sad anger that made his heart sink.
"I-I'm not... fine at all, Dad."
Her father seemed taken aback, softly saying,
"Hayley... baby..."
He moved in to hug her, but she backed away, causing him to feel as if a knife pierced his heart.
"S-See... this... is the problem, Dad."
Her voice sounded shaky - conviction barely there.
"Your..."
She trembled, trying to quell her anxiety.
"constant coddling, always treating me like I'm seven or something, is why for most of my life, people have... walked all over me and made my self-esteem way worse than it was."
Tears rolling down his cheeks, Mason said,
"I didn't-Why didn't you tell me?"
Grinding her teeth, she mustered the will--water in her eyes--to turn and move onward, rolling suitcase in hand.
"You could never understand, Dad."
Mason reached after her, but stopped himself, thinking it best to let her go.
But, he just had to ask,
"Wh-When are you coming back, Hayley?!"
She continued walking, simply taking out her phone and touching the screen a few times. Shortly after, Mason's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a message from "My precious little girl".
The message read,
"When I'm better".
__
By the time she arrived, it was afternoon.
Stepping just outside Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France, Hayley looked from left to right, seeing various individuals walking, talking, and entering taxis or the vehicles of people awaiting them.
Being around so many people always unnerved Hayley. She wanted to move away from them as soon as possible. So, she took a deep breath, turned to her left, and she walked - nervousness over her visage all the while.
Some seconds later, she spied an unoccupied Taxi.
Basically trembling as she got in the backseat, she said,
"Uh... Je voudrais..."
She tried to find the words.
'What... were the rest again?'
"Être..."
She breathed out, feeling a deep fury for herself.
'Oh, my God. I'm such an idiot. I couldn't even memorize-'
"Your accent sounds American, madame," the male taxi driver spoke - a casual French accent.
Hayley seemed surprised, but also relieved.
"You speak English?"
The driver chuckled.
"Well, uh... what is it that you Americans say? Oh. No shit, madame." He followed his sentence with laughter.
Hayley profusely blushed.
'God, kill me.'
"Sorry, Mr. taxi driver. I-"
"No, no, it's quite fine, madame," he reassured, tone cheerful.
"Now, where is it that you wanted to go?"
"Ah. Ta-Take me to the Institution of Huyarem please."
He nodded, starting the car and taking off, using his GPS to navigate along the way.
Just before an hour passed, they arrived.
Hayley exited the vehicle, looking at the driver through his window to softly say,
"Merci."
Beaming, he responded,
"De rien, madame" before going on his way.
Exhaling and turning around, Hayley's breath was immediately taken away.
"Holy-it looks... even more amazing in person."
Hayley presently beheld the exterior of a building - reminiscent of a Victorian church.
It seemed old-timey, yet at the same time, odd. Like it was made in that same year.
Hayley didn't know what to make of it.
Puffing out, she started forward. As soon as she arrived at the building's large metallic door, she paused. She kept hearing the sounds of whip on flesh. The sounds of men groaning. The sounds of women barking orders.
Swallowing saliva, she laid down her suitcase and knocked twice. The sounds stopped for a moment but picked up again.
All of a sudden, a small opening came amidst the door, and through it, Hayley saw the eyes and forehead of a woman.
"What is the password, féminin?" the woman asked.
Shakily breathing in and out, Hayley told her,
"Glory to the females."
The opening on the door closed, and then the door's entirety flung wide open.
As soon as Hayley went to gasp at the sight, she was quickly dragged inside. The door slammed shut behind her.
Stumbling and almost falling, she regained balance and looked at the woman who dragged her inside. It was a quite busty milf, clad in a full-body black latex suit.
She smiled - a sure smile. One that made it clear that everything was going to go her way all the time. And it was apparent that she knew that very well.
"It has been a while since any Americans came across our website. You are very pretty, féminin. You'll be a fine mistress. Call me Empress. How would you like to be addressed, beautiful one?"
Hayley blushed, briefly averting her gaze, idly playing with her hair.
"Th-Thank you for calling me beautiful. And... my name's Hayley Keys."
The woman frowned.
"No, no, no. This will not do, Ms. Keys. It appears you are indeed in dire need of this institution of ours."
Gulping, Hayley nodded.
She was just now noticing that the noises had stopped completely.
She turned her head and looked all around her. The white-stone-walled vast room held a bondage dungeon-esque aesthetic.
Many naked men were on their knees, dog collars around their necks. Some were smiling, some were emotionless, and some were still wincing from pain.
Standing about the men were dozens of women dressed in latex, the same as Empress. The only difference was that they all wore latex masks that shrouded every part of their face, safe for their mouths and eyes.
"Th-This place is... not at all what I expected."
"Of that I'm sure," Empress said, giggling.
Eyeing Empress in uncertainty, Hayley asked,
"Is... are these men even here of their own free will?"
"Féminin, if that is the question you are asking, then you will be astounded at just how perverse these lowly dogs can be."
"Eh?"
Empress' narrowed eyes moved about the men. Her lips curled in contempt and disgust.
"See, as soon as I advertised my website to men, I wasn't surprised at how many came flocking to my doorstep, begging to be punished. Begging us women to sit on their faces. To ride their faces. To squeeze their balls. To jerk them off with our feet and leave them on the brink of orgasm, never letting them cum until they respectfully screamed for release."
Hayley's cheeks turned beet-red, and she squirmed a bit, feeling herself getting aroused.
"I-I'm sorry, I d-don't think I should be he-"
"Hayley."
Hayley tensed, surprised at how gentle Empress' tone had become.
Circling Hayley whilst continuing to eye the men, she said,
"Haven't men looked down on you? More times than you can count? Think you to be inferior? Vulnerable? Prey?"
Hayley pursed her lips. Empress' words were deeply resonating with her.
"Think of you as just an object, a trophy; something just to fuck?"
Slowly, she nodded.
Hayley's first and last boyfriend had been just that kind of man. He'd tell everyone at school how he finally banged her after a couple months, and how the pussy wasn't really that good. Furthermore, he'd said these exact words: "Good thing I was cheating on the bitch, too".
The worst part was, that Hayley had been there to witness every word he used to tear down her reputation and self-esteem. Even further.
Stopping right in front of Hayley, Empress leaned forward to whisper in her ear,
"Does it not make you furious how vile these creatures can be?"
"Ye-Yes."
"Does it not make you want to make them quiet, cease underestimating you, obey your every command?"
With more resolve this time, Hayley told her,
"Absolutely."
Empress smiled.
"See, Hayley, we women are practically goddesses. It's because of the effect we have on men. On slaves. We can use our charisma, our unwavering feminine confidence to get whatever we want; be whatever we want. It's just... sometimes, some of us, unfortunately fail to realize our true potentia-"
She paused, thinking for a second with narrowed eyes.
