Chapter 8 - Father Knows Best
The Minister fed his naked, squatting daughter his dick. She gave skull like
a pro, licking and sucking just the way Daddy liked it. His wife had her once
proud face buried in his butt crack, tonguing his rectum. Responding to his
daughter's skilled ministrations, he unloaded quickly. His daughter gulped it
down eagerly and licked him clean. His wife watched enviously as The Minister
pulled out his daughter's remote control. The two buttons were coded to his
fingerprints so nobody else could operate it. He pressed the button marked O.
His daughter's pretty face went slack and she trembled in the grip of obscenely
huge pleasure. He gave her a good blast and then removed his finger. His
daughter was now wearing his favourite perfume, Eau De Cunt. He turned sternly
to his wife.
"It's time to inspect the quality of your house-cleaning."
He spoke sweetly to his adoring daughter.
"Put on your stockings and high heels and fetch the strap, honey. You're
going to paddle mommy's bare bum if she's been bad."
He had laid off the housekeeping staff. His wife was charged with keeping
everything spick and span in return for the odd jolt of ultimate pleasure. The
He inspected his wife with reluctant approval. Before her stay at the
Blushing Blossom Counselling Centre, she had been a flabby, middle-aged matron
who had let herself go physically. Now she exercised fanatically three hours a
day, just because he had promised her a jolt a week if she did. Her body was
tight and buff, the body of a woman twenty years younger. His wife was already
wearing stockings, high heels and nothing else. She wasn't wearing any Eau De
Cunt perfume because her husband kept her on short rations. He gave her enough
to keep her motivated but no more than that. As a result, she bitterly regretted
her former treatment of him. Her own daughter had called her a stupid cow
because of it and her own daughter was right. As a direct result of her stupid,
callous former treatment of him, her daughter slept with Daddy and she slept on
the hard wooden floor beside the bed, listening to them fuck.
The Loyal Daughter sauntered saucily in her high heels flicking the leather
strap playfully, smirking like the trampy slut that Daddy loved her to be. She
adored helping her Daddy, the master of the Big O, put her stupid mother through
her paces. She sauntered behind Daddy while he put on the white glove and ran it
over every likely surface. He finally hit paydirt on the top of a high door
sill. He held his gloved finger up to his wife's disappointed face. There was
dust on it. She had missed a spot. He smiled into her dismayed face.
"Bend over, darling. Five strokes."
His wife dutifully bent over,touching her lacquered fingernails to the toes
of her carefully polished high heels.
"We're going to have a little contest, sweetie-pie."
He beckoned to his smirking daughter who was taking vicious looking practise
swings with the leather strap.
"I'll give you a taste of the Big O if you make her cry out."
He turned to his wife. He slapped her playfully on the rump.
"I'll give you a taste if you don't."
He whispered something in his daughter's ear. She sniggered. Her normally
naughty smirk grew very dirty indeed.
She positioned herself carefully. Her years of private tennis lessons had
given her a wicked swing. The first stroke connected with her bent over mother's
buff buns with a sound like a pistol shot. Her mother's mouth opened, but she
bit it off before any sound emerged. A bright red welt appeared. Daddy's
smirking girl laid the second one exactly on top of the first. Her mother
staggered forward with the force of the blow, biting her lips to keep it in. Her
daughter laughed delightedly.
"Mommy wants it bad, daddy."
She laid the next two strokes on in rapid succession with a sound like two
firecrackers exploding. Tears were streaming down her mother's face, but she was
holding it in. Daddy's liitle girl winked saucily at daddy and sniggered at what
was coming next. He ruffled his wife's head affectionately, something she used
to hate, but now she said nothing, accepting it. He squatted down and
cheerfully cupped her teary face in his hands.
"For the last stroke, I want you to spread your legs nice and wide while
your loving daughter shows you how effective all those golf lessons were. If you
can accept it in complete silence, I will give you five whole minutes."
She looked at him, her face twitching apprehensively.
"I want eight minutes."
He laughed delightedly.
"I'll tell you what. If you can stay quiet, I'll give you five minutes.
After that, regardless of what happens, if you bury your face in your
multi-orgasmic daughter's muff and make her cum ten times, I''ll give you
another two minutes."
His wife's eyes glistened greedily, her naked hunger for the Big O reflected
in the unholy lust in her face. He didn't need the pain button. Her greed for
the Humungous Orgasm drove her relentlessly. It was the ultimate drug, once
tasted, completely addictive.
With truly depraved eagerness, his wife spread her legs, her slit making a
lewdly inviting target. Daddy's little girl took some brutally vicious practise
swings and then stepped up to address the ball. Lining up her shot carefully,
she drove the strap hard with the deceptively easy stroke of an experienced golf
The Minister watched as, with a sound like the crack of a small cannon, his
obscenely positioned wife was lifted into the air, clamped both hands over her
burning crotch and landed rolling on her back, panting hard but saying nothing.
Her glistening eyes gleamed triumphantly as she stared hungrily at the remote
control in his hands. She spoke, her voice coarse with lusty anticipation.
With a good-natured laugh, he pressed the button and she was humming in
unbelievable ecstacy. The daughter laughed as her drooling mother was bathed in
Daddy's favourite Eau De Cunt perfume. She unzipped Daddy and reached playfully
into his pants. She gave him her innocent little baby look as she stroked his
very familiar cock with extremely experienced fingers.
"Got some for me, Daddy?"