Daddy's Back!

“Daddy will be back soon,” Kelly said – or almost purred.

“Mmmm…” I moaned in response, pulling against the bonds holding me tied spread-eagled to the bed. Mostly out of habit than any actual hope that it will help. The bonds held firmy, the metal of the tight cuffs digging in and hurting my already sore wrists and ankles.

“I need to get you ready for him,” she says. “You know how he likes that.”

Oh, he definitely liked it. Ever since he started having his way with Kelly – me having been forced and trained and broken much earlier – Daddy loved having us perform with each other or when one was getting the other ready for him.

On different days it meant different things, usually involving tying down, sometimes adding such things as gags and piercings, sometimes – if he was feeling generous and merciful – having one of us lubricate the other’s fuckhole with her tongue.

I still remember that I protested when he first wanted me to do that. It was actually the first time in years when I refused to do something he ordered me to do.

I was certain he’d get angry, but I think my sudden defiance only amused him. With me being thoroughly broken and turned into an obedient sextoy, anticipating his perverted, disgusting wishes and desires and doing my very best he didn’t have many reasons to take me to the basement for punishment.

He still did that, of course, not needing a reason.

This time, however, he was extra vicious. Pliers. Whip. Tazer. Car battery. Piano wire. Studded dildos. Wasps. Cigarettes. Dentist drill.

It didn’t take long before I was broken, reminded my place, ready to obey. But he didn’t stop. He only took breaks to fuck my sore, writhing, hurting body. As much as my tortured holes hurt when being taken by him, it was still better than him using the tools on my again. I did all my best to make it feel sooo good for him, to make him last as long as possible, but always way too soon my holes would take another of his load and he would start with the tools again.

When he was done I crawled upstairs, to the room where Kelly was lying tied and I took a whip, a studded strap on, a pack of cigarettes and worked on her until she promised to fuck him back “like the disgusting, incestuous, daddy-fucking whore she was”. The only kindness I could give her was to make her ass wet with my tongue and spit, pushing it deep to prepare it for his assault.

Kelly never resisted when he wanted her to prepare me. She never resisted – neither I, after that one attempt at defiance – when he had us play with each other, kissing, doing 69, fucking one another with strap-ons, fingering each other to screaming, humiliating orgasms.

I was grateful that she never resisted him. The thought of her in the basement, of her being subjected to his cruel toys, of my younger sister that I was supposed to look after, suffering so bad was a greater torture than anything he could do to my body.

He knew that of course, which is why he took her to the basement every now and then, making me watch and participate in the things he did to her.

He was turning her against me, making her hate and I couldn’t even blame her for it.

Now she was getting me ready for him. That usually meant her licking my pussy, to get it wet enough for his liking. This time however she began by unchaining my ankles. I knew what that meant, but I didn’t kick or fight. I’d only kick her. What was the point?

“Plsss” I still tried to beg, against better judgement. Of course the only thing escaped from my lips, stretched obscenely widely against a BIG penis gag was a muffled moan.

“Now, now” Kelly purred as she shackled my legs back, this time to the headboard on both sides of my head. “He says you should be grateful for me lubing your ass for him.”

Yes, he always said so.

Kelly was a good asslicker, we both were.

It never got that far as he threatened us – that neither of ass would need to use toilet paper ever again, but more often than not he would have one of us cleaning his ass after he took a dump, pushing our tongues deep into his hole, regardless of the taste.

The first time he had me do it I resisted as well, even though the taste of shit was already familiar to me, having been made to clean his cock from the filth from my ass often enough. When I refused, first he took his sweet time working on my tits and nipples with nails and pliers and then assfucked me with my face in the soilet toilet. Then he left me chained like that, coming only to sodomize me a couple of times and to piss on my hair.

I wish I had been smart enough to realize back then how things would be and never try resisting again.

Even when not cleaning his or each other’s asses, he would often had us either rimming him or each other, putting up a show to make him harder. This is why when Kelly pushed started licking around my asshole, before putting it in deep inside, this was a familiar if still thoroughly embarassing sensation.

She kept at it for a while, before finally stopping.

“That should be enough for him” she said, as she left.

Couple minutes later HE came back.

“Ready, cunt?” he said as I whimpered, watching the HUGE thing between his legs and then again as I noticed one lit cigarette in his mouth and a full pack of them in his hand.

I knew what that meant.

He didn’t waste any more time talking. He got on the bed and lined up his thing with my asshole… and pushed hard, trying to see how much of it he can fit in in one thrust.

The world became agony as the penis gag swallowed my screams. He had been raping me for years and years and I thought I had reached bottom loooong ago… but these last couple of months were the worst ever.

Because now, following THAT NIGHT, I knew I deserved everything that was happening to me.

* * *

He had thought us both thoroughly broken. He had reason to, but that made him sloppy. I waited for the right time. He only ever used the car once a week for shopping. Why else would he leave our huge house in the mountains, where he had all the luxuries he wanted and two hot young painsluts and sex-slaves to do with as he pleased? The house he got after his wife and our mother found the only escape from his attentions she could, by throwing herself down the cliff.

Bitch. She didn’t even warn us and she left us for him.

Anyway, he didn’t noticed I managed to find the place where he stashed the car keys and hide them. He had long stopped chaining me to bed but sometimes he also forgot to lock my room. One such night I took my chance.

I’ve done some planning beforehand. Choosing this night to be the night, I was extra sweet for him. I deepthroated his cock so hard that I would almost pass out, rode his dick like a pro, fucked him back as he was sodomizing me doggy-style like a bitch in heat. Everything to wring more cum from his balls, give him more orgasms, make him more tired. I brought him beer bottles stuffed up my holes, again and again, just to make the bastard drunk.

Finally it worked, but not before he visited Kelly’s room as well. I should have killed the bastard as he fell asleep but I was too terrified. What if I failed and he woke up?

No, I ran to Kelly’s room and dragged her out of bed. She was weak from exhaustion and it was a good thing – or so I had thought back then – otherwise I doubt I would have been able to get her to run away.

We almost reached the car when he jumped at us. I don’t remember how things happened exactly. There was screaming, struggling, pushing, shoving… and moments later he and Kelly were falling down the cliff.

I called rescue services and waited, the only thing I could do, certain it was the last time I saw either of them. I was both right and wrong.

My father was dead but miraculosly Kelly survived, though with severe head injuries. She spent two weeks in a coma, even more in the hospital under observation. In the meantime I was interrogated over and over again. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about what he did to us, so I said it was an accident. I was sure not to let the police and social services see the rooms he turned into his “playrooms”.

Finally Kelly was released and we returned back home. She wasn’t the same, barely talking, barely reacting, barely eating. Until one day, when I was washing her and touched her between her legs to clean her there… she grabbed a bottle of some lotion and hit me hard.

Everything went black.

I woke up chained to the torture bench in the basement again. Kelly was standing there, with a cruel grin on her face.

“So, you’re finally awake, bitch?” she said, speaking in some weird way, trying for her voice to sound lower than it was. “It was a big mistake trying to run away, trying to take my two little fucktoy daughters from me. But it’s a mistake you’ll never make again.”

And she started working on it. Dad often made her hurt me just as he made me hurt her… and it turned out she was a good student.

I screamed, begged, pleaded, tried to reason with her, tell her we’re finally safe. She only stopped after, overcome with pain, I screamed “Stop, daddy, I’ll be your young, right fuckcunt, daddy! I’ll be your disgusting, incestuous, daddy-fucking whore” just as he always liked it.

“Prove it” she said unchaining me.
I was too weak to fight, too weak when she put on a HUGE strap on and sat down with a cigarette and told me to ride her “cock”.

I did, groaning in pain each time I moved, then screaming and twisting each time the glowing tip touched my tit flesh. I couldn’t believe that Kelly even orgasmed… breathing hard and moaning just as he used to do.

* * *

“Yes… yes, daughter… fuck… your ass feels so good around my dick” Kelly moaned as she was driving the huge strap-on into my ass.

Then she took a puff of the cigarette, blew the smoke into my face and, as I coughed, touched my foot with the lit end. As I screamed and wiggled, she moaned in pleasure.

“Yes… just like that… just how I taught you…” she said. “Clench that ass on my dick!”

Even though she couldn’t feel it, my training kicked in and I did it, just as I did it for daddy, gripping the invading tool with my muscles.

Eventually, after she finished fucking and burning me, she pulled my penis gag out.

“We’re not done yet, sweetie” Kelly purred. “Daddy is in a mood to play whole night with you. So what should we do? Maybe play with the drill a bit? You know how daddy loves it. Or it was a while since I fucked you while pushing your face into a bowl of piss? The whip marks around our pussy seem to be fading and I think your clit needs another piercing… so what say you, darling? What should we do?”

I swallowed, trying to bring me jaw back to life. I knew the only correct answer.

“Whatever you want, daddy” I whispered, Kelly’s face so blurred in my sight from the tears in my eyes that I could almost believe it was him.