Mommy was gone and I knew that meant Daddy would want to fuck. He'd want me to wear  a short skirt with white cotton panties underneath. A white, button-down shirt and a white cotton bra. He'd want my long hair in pig tails, my face clean of make-up, and I knew he'd get everything he wanted. Everything.
  I'd get down on my knees infront of him, inhaling his scent, as he pulled his fat cock out of his pants and slapped my face with it. As soon as he allowed me to put it in my mouth, I'd look up at him while he fucked my pretty face. He'd say,"That's the way babygirl. Take all of Daddy's cock." I knew my face would be covered in spit and snot and cum before he was ready to fuck my other holes.
 Sometimes, depending on how long Mommy would be gone, he would tie my breasts, slapping and torturing them, while I whimpered and moaned the way he taught me. Then, shoving me roughly back onto my little bed, he would push my legs back, opening my sweet, little pussy wide for his violent thrusting. He would call me his little slut and tell me how tight my pussy was around his fat cock. My Daddy loved to fuck me hard. He liked to make me cum. Although I always had to beg him to let me release. He loved to feel my pussy clenching around his dick. When he was ready to cum he would pull out of me and shoot his hot load all over my face and breasts. Then I would suck him clean. I love being my Daddy's little whore.
  I better get ready. He'll be coming up the stairs very soon.
 

I had  been out to dinner with friends and had a little too much to drink. I knew I shouldn't be driving but I wanted to get home and put on some comfortable clothes. The skin tight stilletto skirt and  insanely high heels I was wearing made me look like a 'Jessica Rabbit' come to life but they weren't very comfortable.
   I slipped behind the wheel of my car, silently thanked myself for driving the sedan and not the coupe, and slid the key into the ignition.  That's when he came up from the back seat, put one hand over my mouth and held a very sharp knife up to my throat with the other. "All I want is a ride out of town. Do exactly what I tell you and you won't be hurt."  I can remember the way the guy's hand felt on my mouth, the taste of his skin and the smell of his colone. There are times , it all comes back to me, down to the song that was playing on my car stereo.  "Somebody To Love" by The Jefferson Airplane.
  It seemed like we drove for hours, but
.it was probably only 10 or 15 minutes before we out of the city limits. He had me turn onto a back road, which took us towards the orchards, and the few scattered farms. 
   " There's a dirt road up here to your left, take that road and follow it til you get to an old farm house, you can't miss it." My heart began to pound in my chest because  if he was really  going to let me go,  it would be soon. And if he had no intention of letting me go, what did he have planned?
   "When we get to the house, I want you to get out of  the car slowly, please don't try to run, there really isn't any where for you to go. Besides, chasing you  right now would only piss me off." I did what he said. Pulled up to the farm house, got out of the car and waited for him to come around to where I was standing. " Give me the keys." He said . I gave them to him and he placed them on the hood of the car. Then he turned to me and said," I've been watching you for a very long time. I've chosen you."   "I don't understand," I said , but I was afraid I understood all to well. I was terrified and fighting back the urge to cry." "The only thing you need to know right now
 is that in this matter you have no choice. Do you understand ?" "Yes, I understand." I answered. He gave me a look, a long, hard look and then he said, " We are going to play a game. A serious game but a game none the less. The rules of the game are as follows; I am your Master. I own you. I may do with you whatever I wish. You exist for my pleasure. Your entire purpose is to serve and you serve by being obedient. You may call me Master or Sir but once we get inside this house  you may not speak unless  you are asked a direct question. If you do speak you will be punished, severely.For every word that you utter inside the house you will receive a lash from my whip. You may, however, scream or moan or groan to your heart's content. There is no one to hear you out here, no one at all. Do you understand?" I nodded my head and two big tears rolled down each side of my face." Do you have any questions?"
" Why are you doing this to me?" I asked him, unable to keep my voice from breaking. " I have been watching you for a very long time ,  dreaming of the day when I would be able to take you and make you my perfect little fuck toy." He answered. "Will you ever let me go?" I asked next. "Yes, if after tonight you wish to return to your old life, I will release you." he said looking into my eyes. "I'm afraid." I said without thinking.  " Yes." was all he said.  We stood there looking at eachother, and at last I dropped my eyes and gave a deep sigh . I was resigned to my fate.
   When I walked through the door of the farm house, I almost fainted. My knees buckled and if he hadn't reached out and steadied me I would have hit the floor. I was standing in the middle of a real life torture chamber. There were devices I recognized from my history books in school and there were machines, big motor driven machines, that I prayed I'd never get the chance to learn. Everything was mounted on the walls. Whips, so many whips , and ,  there were paddles,  paddles made of all kinds of wood, with different thicknesses , even paddles with one side covered in soft fluffy fur. There were riding crops, of all lengths and thicknesses, and there were floggers, of every size and type of leather. There must have been 50 different types of clamps, dildos, viberators, strap-on harnesses,butt plugs,  masks, gaggs, and spreader bars, and arm and leg binders.  Wrist restraints, ankle restraints, cuffs, collars, chains, ropes, cords, and even poastal twine.
  "GIRL!!!" I heard the word explode from his lips. I looked at him and waited, holding my breath. " I want you to strip. Slowly. Let me look at you as you remove your clothes."  My hands were shaking but I did as he said. I took off my blouse and reached behind my back to unhook my bra. "No," he said, "leave your bra on, just pull your tits out."   I did as he said and once my tits were out of the bra, I began to unzip my skirt. " Lean forward, let me see them hanging down." He was holding  a wooden ruler and as I bent forward at the waist,he roughly grabbed my left breast and slapped the nipple rapidly with the ruler, ten or fifteen times.  Then he did the same to my right breast. " There, nice and red and stinging, just the way I like them. You have wonderful tits. I'm going to enjoy tying them up, nice and tight, so that they stick straight out from your chest. " I wiggled out of my skirt, and was about to remove my garter and stockings when he stopped me. "No, leave those on, and your heels, they are very sexy." 
    He walked around me several times, occasionally touching me, turning me, inspecting me. I had never felt so exposed in my life. I wanted to cover my nakedness but that was impossible. I focused on keeping calm and paying attention. He led me over to a plain wooden chair. "Sit bitch." was all he said. From underneath the chair he produced a length of white, cotton rope, about a half an inch thick, and laid it in my lap. He walked over to a cabinet and pulled out two sets of leather restraints, one set for my arms, and the other for my legs. After I was securely tied to the chair, he began binding my breasts. Making sure the rope started very close to my chest wall he wrapped each breast five, or six, times around, and then tied a funnny knot at the top and the remaining rope around my neck, like a halter. When he had finished he stood back to admire his work. "Your tits were meant to be tied. Good God! They were beautiful before but now they're perfect!Do they ache slut? See how purple they are getting? They positively scream to be abused!" He grabbed my tits, one in each hand and squeezed them. I couldn't help but moan. I had never felt anything like this before. The pain of the restraint had subsided and there was a dull ache, but it was more than an ache, it was a hunger. My tits needed to be handled, squeezed, rubbed, slapped. I shifted slightly in the chair as if to place more of my breasts into his hands. I didn't want him to let go of them or to stop touching them. Suddenly he dropped my left brast and shoved his hand between my legs. "Open your legs slut", he said roughly. "Open your legs and let me  put my fingers inside your pussy" I was surprised at how quickly I was responding to his voice. I opened my legs as wide as the bindings would allow and lifted my hips to give him more access to my hot, wet, hole. " Oh, my! Aren't you a ready little slut? I knew you'd be a bitch in heat from the first moment I saw you. And your pussy is sopping wet. But first things first." And saying this he put a plastic clothespin on the nipple of each distended breast. The pain shot through me like a knife and I gasped out loud. I whimpered and I moaned , but he only laughed and began slapping my tits, lightly, developing a rhythm. "Breath bitch, you'll come to love it, I promise."