Family Ties Ch. 09

This time instead of too much makeup and wild hair, slouching in defiance, I stood straight and proud, shoulders back, hair styled, and just the right amount of makeup to enhance my looks instead of shout was a bitch I was. (I told you I had learned my lessons. Pain is a wonderful teacher.)

"Quite the change." Was my Fathers first remark as he sat appraising me the way one would a car that he was considering buying.

"Indeed, she was a bit more of a discipline problem than I had expected. Quite stubborn and will full, but as you can see she has come around to the proper way of thinking."

"Her academics are finally beginning to reach acceptable levels and her performance levels while not spectacular are above the norm and improving."

"I'd like a demonstration if you don't mind, headmaster."

"Certainly." Mr. Woodward looked at me. "Strip, please."

Three years of training came damn close to going out the window at those simple words. I was used to being told to strip, for gym, for sexual training classes, for punishments, in front of classes and teachers and social directors and even in front of classes full of young men (more about that later) but to be told to strip and show off the things I've learned in front of my Father? The training and discipline kicked in, I doubt either man noticed the hesitation. I began to unbutton my starched white blouse.

"Leave the boots on." My Father ordered. Did he know what was happening? He must with that order.

I folded the blouse and skirt and placed the tie on top. I struck the first pose we are taught, legs slightly apart, one hand gracefully placed on hip, the other down along our bodies with the hand turned open and out, back straight and tits up and out.

"Submit!" My Fathers voice, my trainers lessons. I sank into a graceful kneeling form, and then slid down, head on the floor, arms extended out and wrists crossed.

The headmaster walked around my prone body, checking every point of my position. He bent down and whispered quietly. "Point those toes."

He straightened up and strode over to my Father, the two men discussing I assume, me, in quiet tones as I remained where I was commanded to be.

"Your Father wants to assess your progress. You will service him to the best of your rather limited abilities." I both froze and panicked. Service at the institute had only one meaning. It was a command to service a male person's member. Orally. I had just been ordered to suck my Fathers cock.

I hesitated a second too long. Headmaster Woodward's ever present riding crop landed with his usual precision between my ass cheeks wrapping around to land squarely on my exposed cunt lips. I bit back a scream and slowly rose up on my hands and knees crawling with the exaggerated movements we had been taught. Done correctly it is a slow sensuous movement with cat like form and grace. Mine wasn't bad under normal circumstances but now was more lumbering cow than feline slink.

I remember the whole time moving towards the man in the chair as if a movie was being played in slow motion. The entire way a little voice in the back of my mind was screaming. "You can't do this! It's you're Father. You can't suck your Fathers dick. This is incest."

The voice trailed off as my fingers unzipped the trousers on the grey suit and fished inside for the warm living flesh of his manhood. Father's cock was large and wide and rapidly getting harder as my fingers danced across it, stroking it gently from base to head. I slid my tongue out and let the wet underside lay across the head of his prick. I used my tongue to coat the rapidly enlarging knob as my fingers milked the shaft.

Now I began to use rapid flicking motions with the end of my tongue just under the ridge of his lower head. My brain had given up the battle and allowed my training to take over. I was licking; wrapping my tongue as far as it would reach around the heated rod of his cock. I licked my way down the shaft like licking a popsicle being sure to get all the way around it. I reached his balls and gently sucked them into my mouth rolling them around and using the pressure of my half closed lips to stretch them out. All the while I kept up the steady rhythmic pumping of his shaft with my fingers.

It was time. I stretched my jaws and inserted the penus of my Father deep into my mouth, pressing my own head down and forward and relaxing my throat muscles until his head popped into my throat. I pressed down and back up, time and again, working it deeper each time.

Finally I was able to take the entire shaft in my mouth and throat, my nose pressed against his belly. I sucked as I brought my head up and blew to expand my throat as I went down on my Father. I got the rhythm and settled down to work milking his cock.

When I detected that little tremor that precedes the eruption I went as deep as I could and held using my throat muscles to milk his head a few more quick times.

His hot cum flooded my throat and blasted down into my belly and I sucked and sucked until his last shudder. I sucked as I came up for air leaving the glistening organ as clean as I found it. I used my tongue to swirl the head a few more times coaxing the last few drops of white liquid from the jerking member in my hands.

I dropped my head and resumed my submissive posture before my Father as he straightened his pants.

"Get dressed Christine. We have a long way to travel today."

The decision

She lay on the bed, naked and chained to the four posts that made up the corners of the bed frame. She looked up as I came in and I could see the panic in her features. I hated that she was so afraid even after almost a month safe in this room. She had healed some of the worst of the punishments inflected upon her, but her once perfect body was now crisscrossed with pink scars that showed the whippings she had endured. Her wrists and ankles showed the sunken calloused damage of long term manacles. One of her pussy lips was ragged along one edge where it had been torn and not attended to. She was a mess despite the care that I had ordered for her for the last month.

I waited with out saying a word. This decision had to be up to her after all it was her life and the choices were not that great either way. A life as a slave, no hope, no choices, used and worked with no chance for change or a home and family of her own. Or death, that ultimate last step. Either choice was a bad one but it was all I had been able to bargain for. She screwed up badly and would be made to pay. One way or the other.

Christine looked up at me and gave a half smile. "You've grown baby brother." When I made no reply she collapsed back on the bed and turned her head away towards the wall.

"I want to live." She whispered.

I nodded though she couldn't see. Decision made. I turned and walked away.