Chapter 1: Brent
Brent purposely ignored his daughter Ellie as she came into the house. To her credit, she didn’t say a word- her training was showing results. He continued to ignore her as she started to undress, removing a flimsy yellow sundress and neatly folding it. He kept his back to her and listened as she stepped out of her panties and shoes. He could hear her chastity belt rattle, and counted down from ten to give her some time to position herself. When he finally did turn around, he beamed with pride.
She didn’t see, of course, because her eyes were closed.
His daughter was standing at the front door of their home in a perfect Inspection pose. Her arms were folded behind her head, putting her soft breasts on full display while her slender legs were parted wider than her generous hips. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly open, and he could see her breathing deeply as he’d instructed. He decided to leave her for five minutes; with Ellie, the absence of her father’s attention put her just as on edge as his presence did.
It had been three months since his daughter agreed to trial life as his slave, and Brent was quite happy with her progress. He could still feel her discomfort radiating across the room, but his protocols were starting to become second nature to her with minimal fumbles or protests. When Ellie was able to get out of her own way and surrender to him, she was a natural slave- just like her mother had been at her age.
Brent’s ample experience in slave training had taught him that new slaves require routine, reminders, and repetition to be successful. When the slave is your daughter, a fair amount of patience and scaffolding is also required to build trust while also exercising authority. Ellie was willing, but she was also shy- the taboo of their relationship was still a barrier for her. Too much too soon would risk losing her; her sense of shame is still at war with her curiosity and building sense of duty.
With Ellie, Brent knew that needed to erode that shame over time by replacing it with trust, respect, and the desire to please. Only after this had happened could he start erasing her identity. He had focused her first few months of training on protocol and obedience, with a sprinkling of sexual elements to remind her of her true purpose. As much as he desired having his daughter’s full lips wrapped around his cock, though, she wasn’t quite there yet- but the erosion of her resolve was well in progress, and Brent enjoyed the process.
He finally turned his attention to his naked daughter, crossing the room to her with enough noise for her to know she was in his sights. She tensed slightly, her hardened nipples and curled toes giving her away. He let her feel his gaze, walking a circle around her close enough that she could feel his body heat and his breath, but not close enough to touch. He picked up the cell phone that she had placed on the table by the door, casually scrolling through her messages, calls, and social media platforms. There were a few messages from classmates, including rather a flirty thread with a boy named Evan. Brent made a mental note of the name before focusing back on his daughter, so obediently awaiting Inspection.
He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, thinking ahead to the inevitable day when he would shave it all off. He trailed his finger down her neck, delighting in her gasp as he lightly pinched her nipple. He cupped the full weight of each breast in his hands, massaging until he earned another gasp. His hands tested the buckle around her waist before following the lines of the transparent chastity belt down her stomach. He cupped the warmth between her legs and squeezed, the pressure of his fingers both a promise and a threat.
He would eventually attach a dildo and plug to the belt to keep her holes full when not in use, but for now she wore it solely as a barrier preventing anyone from touching her- including herself. His poor little girl hadn’t had an orgasm in three months; every night of edging got her closer and closer to begging for his cock. Once she did, he would of course oblige, but it was important to him to build the need within her- another tactic for eroding her resistance. He didn’t wish to take, but rather he wished for her to give.
His fingers parted her, readjusting the belt to fit snugly against her most intimate parts. He dipped a finger beneath the barrier into his daughter’s honey, gently circling her clit before bringing his finger to his mouth. He indulged a few more needless adjustments of the belt before bringing his wet fingers to her mouth. She obediently sucked until they were replaced by his lips.
Her kisses were always tentative at first, but she was relaxing into them more and more as the days progressed. Brent slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting the berry lip gloss that she was never without. Her cheeks were flushed when he finally pulled away, and he knew that it wasn’t merely self consciousness.
She knew that once he kissed her she was allowed to open her eyes and speak, when spoken to. “Did you have a good day, Ellie?” he asked.
Chapter 2: Ellie
Ellie’s mind was still reeling from her dad’s kiss, and the latest indignity that she had just suffered at his hands. She almost didn’t hear his question.
“Y…yes, Daddy, it was good. I got asked to present my philosophy project to the class during our next lecture,” she said.
“Good girl, Daddy will have to pick out an extra special outfit for that day,” her dad mused. “Did anyone touch you today?”
“No, Daddy…but a couple of the boys in my class were looking at my nipples. It was cold in the classroom and my dress is thin so they were poking out. I tried to move so that they couldn’t, but they kept looking,” Ellie answered in anticipation of her father’s next question. Her tone was becoming more matter of fact, and less humiliated as she practiced detaching.
“Well, Ellie, that’s to be expected. It’s okay, you’re not in trouble. You’re a beautiful girl, and people are bound to look. They just aren’t allowed to touch, right? Tell me why,” he prompted.
“Because I belong to Daddy. I am Daddy’s slave, to do with what he wants. Daddy owns me,” Ellie repeated diligently.
“That’s right, good girl. Did you use the washroom today?” he asked, pulling on Ellie’s chastity belt.
“No, Daddy. I know I’m not allowed to go without permission,” Ellie answered. She had learned that particular lesson the hard way during her first week back at home.
“Good girl, Ellie. You may relax now. Go do your homework where I can see you, and I will let you know when dinner is ready,” he instructed. “You may use your computer, but no more phone tonight.”
Ellie lowered her arms to her sides, shaking the stiffness of holding her Inspection posture from her muscles. She picked up her neatly folded clothes and her backpack, throwing the clothes in the hamper before settling on the couch. Her dad brought her a large glass of water then went back to the kitchen, cutting vegetables at the island with a clear view to Ellie’s naked body as she got out her textbooks.
“That water will be gone before you eat dinner, Ellie,” he said. Ellie picked up the glass and obediently drank.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied.
Doing homework naked on the couch as her dad watched had become a commonplace activity for Ellie in the past few months. Of all of the new changes in her life, this one was one of the easier ones to cope with- she had gotten used to her own nakedness, and sometimes even forgot about it entirely.
When she had agreed to be trained as her dad’s slave after that day in the park, she knew that things would be different. As shameful and humiliating as being naked around her dad was (not to mention the kissing, touching, and seemingly infinite other intimacies), Ellie knew that he had her best interest at heart. She had longed to explore her submissive side, and her dad was helping her to do that safely, with someone she could trust. She hoped that one day he would help her find a suitable Master to Serve, and she could leave this awkward and corrupting time in her life behind.
As uncomfortable as she was in most moments, she didn’t regret her decision. Moving away to school and living on her own had been harder than she thought, and she hadn’t done it for long. Her dad took care of her, and was teaching her all that she ever wanted to know about Service.
Ellie remained enrolled in school and commuted the short distance one town over during the week to attend class. It was important to both of them that she completed at least her first term so that she could make an informed decision about her future. Ellie felt appreciative of the semblance of normalcy that school provided, particularly when her home life was anything but normal.
As she dove into her homework, any lingering discomfort at her exhibitionism disappeared. There was porn on the tv as usual- tonight’s version showing a confined slave being violently used by multiple men in all of her holes. Ellie marvelled at the look of peace on the slave’s face amid her obvious turmoil; she longed to reach that level of Service.
She put some finishing touches on a history essay then got started on a group project. She had some back and forth with a classmate online, but soon realized that it would be much more efficient to have a quick phone call. Ellie’s instinct was to pick up her phone and call her classmate, but her training reminded her of protocol.
“Daddy, may I please use my phone to call a classmate about a group project?” Ellie asked sweetly.
“Who is the classmate, Ellie?” he asked. Ellie wasn’t sure why he cared, given that he didn’t know any of her friends, but she chalked it up to an assertion of control.
“His name is Evan, and he is working on the section of our project that I need,” Ellie replied.
“That’s fine, Ellie, go ahead. Because I am granting this permission, though, you will of course need to do something for me,” he mused.
Ellie’s stomach dropped, nerves instantly taking over. She had forgotten that nothing is granted to a slave without them earning it.
“Call your classmate, on speaker phone, of course, but while you’re on the phone you’ll need to wear these,” he said, taking something out of the kitchen drawer.
Her dad walked over to her with a handful of clothespins. Ellie briefly considered skipping the call altogether, but she really needed the information.
“Yes, Daddy,” she sighed, then remembered the “thank you.”
Ellie sat up straight while her dad pinched her nipples to perk them for the clothespins. Once each nipple was pinned (as she bit her lip to stifle a moan of pain), he then affixed more to the soft skin of her breasts. When he was happy with his work, he went back to the kitchen and left her to her call.
“They can come off when you’re off the phone,” he promised.
Ellie took a deep breath and called Evan. She quickly ran through what she needed with him, and started to despair as he asked what felt like a thousand follow up questions. If she’d been able to think about anything but the pain in her breasts, she might’ve realized he was flirting with her. Her dad certainly did.
About fifteen agonizing minutes later, she ended the call. She looked at her father, a moan threatening to escape her throat as her nipples throbbed. “Please, Daddy,” she asked quietly.
“Of course, Ellie,” he replied, sweeping across the room and sitting beside her on the couch. “I know that you know this by now, but these are going to hurt worse when they come off. Breathe through it, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Ellie said through gritted teeth. She could feel her body tensing, and actively tried to relax- she had learned that relaxing into the pain was better than trying to fight it. She moaned when the first one came off, and felt grateful for her dad’s gentle fingers massaging the bite on her nipple.
“Evan seems nice,” he said conversationally. Ellie merely nodded, too lost in the anticipation of the next clothespin’s removal to pay attention to the undertone in his voice.
“Yah, he is. He’s really smart, and has been….ouch Daddy…helping me with my final term paper,” she replied.
“Well,” Daddy said as he removed the last pin, “I am glad that you have such a good friend.” He cupped both of her breasts, massaging the lingering sensitivity away. “Dinner is in ten minutes,” he noted as he returned to the kitchen.
“Okay Daddy. May I use the washroom first?” Ellie asked. She had to pee, but she also wanted some privacy to recalibrate.
“I think I have granted enough permissions for now,” her dad said mildly, “you can hold it, right?”
Ellie swallowed the natural indignation that surfaced at being told no to a basic need, and then remembered her training. “Yes, Daddy. Slaves don’t have needs.”
Down the Rabbit Hole 