Debra Ch. 01

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Debra woke to being up against something hard and hairy. She blinked and realized she had been sleeping in her Daddy's arms. She rose, but winced, climbed out of bed. She checked herself in the mirrored face of her closet door. The redness on her behind and thighs had gone down, but there was rising purple and grey bruising, red bumps. Debra bit her lip but admitted she deserved the marks. She wasn't SORing: Submitting, Obedient or Respecting; frankly anything this last year.

Debra threw on a lacey night gown and went to perform her toilette: her shower, and preparation of makeup for the morning. She got some chores done and had breakfast prepared. Debra had plans but she needed her father's participation. She was in no way bound to the house or restricted; she was allowed to go wherever she wanted or needed, but she was growing more determined to have her father with her on most activities.

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Weeks passed. Debra was certainly more willful then her mother. She despaired that she often found herself fighting, resisting her father on a myriad of small matters. She had lots of spankings, especially over what she was to wear, but also other teenage things. She engrossed herself in studying her mother's great leather inscribed King James Bible.

Tears fell from her face as her eyes became blurry and her mind fuzzy at the archaic words and their meaning in her mother's large Bible. Debra went with a sigh to the New International Version from her young Woman's Bible Study in paperback. She threw it aside in disgust. It simply wasn't the same.

Debra's mother had been so wise, so knowledgeable in God's word, Debra's father too. They knew so much what God expected of them, by reading the ancient words. Debra was just a beginner. She went to reading study guides and other Christian literature on the proper behavior of a Christian woman. Though her mother had remained silent at the weekly Woman's Bible Study, Debra was going to attend and be active. Her Father approved.

She asked politely what she was to wear, her father picked a boned bustier; the small ruffles at the cups were in blue. Debra's breasts were uplifted and exposed; décolleté save the nipples. At the deep cleavage was a bright blue bow. Debra also wore a long white skirt and white seamed stockings, yellow laced topped. The seams went straight up the back of her thighs. The bottom of the corset of the bustier was over the waist of the skirt and her hips were exposed. The blue garters could be seen disappearing into the waistband. It was frighteningly risqué, exposing.

She put them all on, combed out her hair. She was nervous and felt very exposed, with just the corset-like top on, no blouse over it. Debra wasn't allowed to cover herself. Debra did try to adjust her lingerie so her aureoles weren't showing. They were still, barely. Before leaving the house she was going to say something, but realized it would only lead to an attitude adjustment in the way of spankings.

They arrived at a Christian bookstore. Debra was embarrassed or ashamed? She didn't know. She was in the establishment, exposed in bright white and blue lingerie, her breasts tips apparent if one was to be close. An attendant came up, looked Debra over, causing Debra to blush deeply.

Debra stammered she needed to purchase a Bible. She quietly and with great self-consciousness, explained she was going to a woman's Bible study today and needed a new book of Scripture. Debra had a hard time not stuttering. Debra could see the woman before her would think a person dressed like Debra would need a Bible or be going to Bible study.

Debra took a deep breath and explained, with many pauses that she had a Bible, a Kings James, but it was just too difficult to understand; it had been her mothers. Debra tried not to look the girl in the eyes, she was so embarrassed by her appearance, she knew she looked elegant, but slutty. The woman had shook hands with Debra, been close probably seen what was barely hidden by the bustier, Debra's firm bare areolas.

Debra explained it hurt, that she couldn't learn God's Word using her mother's Bible. Her mother believed the King James Version was not only more accurate, but more holy. All others, coming later are not only less accurate, but corrupt. The church Debra attended used the common New International Version, the one most ubiquitous in modern churches. Debra had finally accepted that she and her mother were just of two different minds.

Debra loved her mother's Bible, her father read aloud from his own worn copy of the King James Bible, almost nightly. The words sounded so important in the ancient script; and the voice of Daddy, was deep and resonate. To Debra her Daddy sounded like God himself.

Debra explained she needed a new Bible, something to call her own. She needed something she could understand. Debra wanted to honor her mother's memory, and her family traditions and values by being knowledgeable in scripture, in the traditional language, or close to it.

Debra was timid, shy in explaining her difficulty to the clerk. Debra was very conscious that her exposed flushed breasts, raised aureoles, almost her nipple tips were almost exposed to the world. Debra stood in frankly bedroom lingerie, woman's underthings in a store; in public, in a Bible bookstore. Every few seconds, Debra looked to where her father was standing, gaining strength by his presence. She was also conscious of moistness between her legs.

Debra settled on The New King James Version in soft cream colored leather. The clerk helped by explaining the one selected had just updated grammar and wording but retained the classic style and prose.

Debra bit her lip; becoming literate in the Bible was going to be hard work. With a deep breath she left the store and was angry. Walking down the street to their truck, everyone looked at her. Debra blushed with shame. She wanted so much to cover herself, exposed in her bustier, her sensitive breast tips almost visible, but looking at her father, she couldn't.

Debra was mad and she spoke harshly to her father on the ride across town. She was embarrassed by her outfit, mortified. Debra would never dress like this again she decided, and told him. She was quite proud of herself, standing up for herself.

Her father looked at her, pulled into a quiet place. He got out, came around. He took a chair out the truck he had for this purpose. He put her over his knees and spanked her soundly. Debra was wearing a pretty thong, pulled high between her cheeks. He kept at the spankings until the fight in Debra was all gone. The impromptu session was long enough to go past her struggling, and she was finally just sobbing, apologizing, admitting she was wrong and her Daddy was in charge of her, always right.

Debra's father then brought Debra to her feet and stood up, wrapping her in his arms. He held her clinging to him. His grown daughter stood crying, like a lost child, her head buried against his chest. They were in a secluded place, a vacant lot in town, surrounded by buildings. Her whimpering, quiet crying, echoed in the air, and also echoed inside her. Debra looked at her father with tear stained eyes, took a deep breath and admitted her Princess Parts were wet.

Debra's father sat in the chair and pulled her hem up and touched her, making Debra close her tear stained eyes and sigh contently. Debra's father moved her lace thong aside and moved his fingers inside her wet folds. Debra groaned in pleasure, and mewed, curling closer into his large body. Her Daddy's gentle fingers felt so good, where moments before they burned like great slabs of heated metal upon her backside, so abusive.

Debra strained; clung to her Daddy as he touched her intimate space, there in an empty alley, near the center of town. Debra moved her feet apart, to allow even more touching of her. Debra reminded herself; she couldn't, shouldn't ever resist her father, even here outside in a vacant city lot where people could see her being molested. Debra began humping her father's fingers, sighing and panting gently. She was disappointed when her father took his hand away and licked his dripping fingers. Debra smiled embarrassingly, unfulfilled.

They arrived at the Woman's Bible Study. Debra had time to put herself together. She had her hair brushed out, makeup applied. Debra leaned over and gave her father a big hug, so glad he was so near, so glad he was going to come into the Woman's Bible Study.

Debra got out of the truck and she walked in, ignoring any shame or embarrassment she felt. She took a deep breath. She told herself she was presentable, had a skirt on and the bustier. Her garters bands were visible, disappearing under her skirt; but that was it. Debra looked back along her legs, her seams were straight. Preceding her; was the blue bow between her breasts, fully exposed, save her nipples, barely, the very edge of her auroras peeking out. Debra was glad her sensitive hard tips were at least hidden. Debra squirmed in her damp panties.

She had brought in her first attempt at cookies. The women all stared at her. There were some murmurings, Debra, flushed from head to toe. They then welcomed her to their group joyously. The cookies were perfect. Debra smiled broadly and became relaxed, as all the women hugged her and remarked how beautiful she was, so like her mother.

Debra did look so much like her departed mother; in her white skirt and seeming white corset with blue accents. Even the exposed garters were okay. Though perhaps a bit scandalous; it was strikingly fashionable and was similar to how her mother would dress.

The women of the church accepted Debra, and her attire. They all went to sing praise songs. The music was modern and the lyrics spoke of the almost love affair one must have with God. Debra had a fine singing voice, not like her mother, but pretty nevertheless.

Debra studied and listened hard, she asked the women next to her how to go about studying in her new Bible. They were all very impressed by her earnest desire to learn. Each one reflected how very much Debra was like her mother. It was such a joy to see such a daughter as her, devoted to the faith. Debra smiled a warm smile at the two older women scrunched tightly to her helping her with passages. Every few minutes Debra would glance behind her at her father in the back, in the shadows.

He was trying to be invisible. He wasn't supposed to be here at all, but Debra explained honestly to the group she couldn't be here if her father wasn't present. This was again similar to her mother's behavior that always seemed to need her husband close. They all understood.

Debra stood, finally when given a chance to bear her testimony. She told all the women of her recent attitude that got her into trouble, and realized how much she needed her Daddy. How he needed to be in charge of her, and she just needed to obey him. Debra said it was God who rescued her, but Debra reflected also her Daddy. Debra spoke out earnestly and frankly; how she'd failed. After her mother's death; Debra willfully scorned being a properly submissive obedient and respectful daughter.

Debra looked at her hands and her bible and then spoke in a low tone, voice breaking. Tears falling, she explained to all present how, by her own callowness, and selfishness, she'd disrespected everything her mother had stood for. Debra told everyone how she'd had dishonored her own mother.

Debra cried then, with tears running down her face that she'd even abandoned her faith in God; because the devil came into Debra, because Debra had allowed Satin entry into her heart. But now, things were different. Debra-Ann was back in the bosom of God, a daughter of Christ, hopefully forever.

Debra was shock by her own admission, felt as if God himself had come into her body and made her admit to all the women of the church present, what was true. Debra felt now inside, in the face of all the discipline she suffered, that she was actually getting freer, more determined, more independent, but she needed her Daddy close by to be that way. He was her security blanket, her lifeline. Debra raised her head and expressed that all to the ladies present.

To Debra's mind, God and her father were interchangeable. God was like her own father, hard, and gentle, wise and relatable. Debra thought of her father; big, broad and hairy, watching her closely, like God did. This was very much how Debra's mother had also seen saw things also.

Debra looked back at her father and with tears in her eyes sighed contently. Debra in front of all the women then ran to the back of the room and threw herself into the arms of her father, kissing him all over his face, sighing and crying, shaking and trembling, seating herself in his lap, and threw her arms around him, shaking, trembling and sobbing. Most of the women were by this time crying, some went to praying out loud. They'd never seen anything like it and truly felt it was a miracle they had just witnessed.

Debra clung to her father, so needing her Daddy. She knew she drew strength and courage from him. Her father with her; meant nothing could harm her, not even herself. He gave her lessons and instructions that helped her find herself, and she knew she couldn't do it alone. She understood she needed a strong Christian man in her life to help her be herself, find herself, help her be the jewel God intended Christian women to be. Debra's father drew her tightly into his arms and Debra curled her toes.

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When they got home, as soon as they walked through the door; Debra went to kissing her father, her Daddy all over. She dragged him upstairs, got him into her room and clawed at his pants, trying to get them off. She started sucking on his cock as soon as she could get her hands on it.

When he was hard enough she struggled to get her own panties down, they were under her garters. She looked pleadingly at her father, on the verge of tears. Undoing the garters would take too much time; she needed what she needed, right now! She couldn't wait; she felt she'd die if she wasn't fucked very soon. Her carnal need consumed her. Openly, with no bashfulness she confessed this to her father.

Her father drew a sharp clasp knife from his pocket and cut the fabric waistband of the lace thong so it fell away. Debra sighed and fell back on the bed. She was there in her bustier and garters, thigh highs, nothing else. Her neither regions; below her trimmed heart, were simmering. She looked to one side and saw how she looked in the mirror; she appeared perfect as a lover, so wanton. Her father put himself over her. He lowered and filled her carefully, which was what she wanted so much. She groaned and sighed loudly. Debra stretched her arms, clinging to the sides of her father, her nails biting in.

Since the Bible bookstore, the spankings, and the church Bible study, her proclamation and confession, she'd had such a yearning growing inside her; growing stronger and stronger. She just couldn't stand it! She felt hollow even, like there was some part missing, her whole womanhood ached to be filled. She knew she needed her Daddy's cock inside her. She needed so much for her Daddy to make love to her. Debra felt she'd surely die if her Daddy didn't fuck her, it was that important.

It was all she could think of toward the end of Bible study and all the way home. She couldn't think of anything else then satisfying her desire, hunger, the burning inside her. That was the most important thing in the world to her; a fuck right now, nothing else mattered. On her bed Her eyes rolled back to feel herself totally filled, finally.

Her father stroked himself inside her, his cock touching all her sensitive areas. Debra shuttered. Her gartered legs shook, trying to wrap around her father, but she was too small, her father's body too massive. Her knees gathered him in as best she was able.

Debra cooed and looked up, stroked his face as he gently made love to her. Her father, her Daddy gave what she needed so much, this was for her. Her public proclamation that Submission Obedience and Respect of her father were now her touchstones, the principles that now guided everything she did. She was now embracing the very values that had defined her mother. Debra-Ann had come home.

Debra's eyes rolled into the back of her head, she shook and screamed, clawed and scratched at her father, drawing weeping blood then had a very strong climax. All of what had happened all day, her struggles with her father, his spanking her out in the open, making her wear such revealing clothes and her buying of her new Bible, her attendance at the Woman's Bible Study in lingerie, so defiled, came crashing down on top of her.

"I'm cumming, Oh God, I'm cumming so hard, Daddy, Daddy, make me cum!" Debra screamed.

She scratched at his flanks with her fingertips, trying to get him deeper; she curled her body; she was in so much need for everything that her Daddy meant to Debra. She gasped murmuring God's name over and over. She came down from her plateau wanting only more fucking.

Debra's father continued sawing in and out of her. Already there was dampness underneath Debra from her orgasm, staining on her childhood blanket. Fluid continued to trickle from her. Debra sighed, closed her eyes, as she enjoyed the growing rhythm, the bed squeaking, the weight of her Daddy, rocking her.

She loved more than anything, him moving inside her. Her arms not even capable of reaching all around him, she could only grasp his hirsute arms, grasp at his ribs. She loved the feeling, feeling filled up, back and forth, back and forth. She clung to him, getting what her body still completely, desperately needed.

God had put the feeling into her, she understood that. He'd put a hunger in her that she had to have satisfied. It wasn't her fault, her own lust for her Daddy; it was God's message to Debra. It's what she had needed more than anything in the world, since forever. She needed a good fuck, long and hard. She told her Daddy that, using inappropriate language that made her blush; tinglier.

He assured her in bed. He told his daughter, who he was training, that using coarse language was fine. Her mother did all the time. Debra thought about her mother, so prudish, under her father being made love to; saying things.

She thought about how she herself was dressed, dressed like her mother dressed, at the Woman's Bible Study. Debra then again started groaning and panting, her head went back and forth, her vision blurred. She tried to arch her back under her father's weight, but he was too heavy to move. She came again and again then; and again to exhaustion. After hours of longing, she was satisfied; and she would try very hard to never question her father again.

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The Order of the Garter was growing. Debra, their titular leader acquiesced to most issues confronting the group, it's hard to SOR, Submit Obey and Respect, when one is in charge. Other eager girls were there to take the banner leading the group forward.

Half the girls in school now wore stockings with cute garter clips of different colors visible every day, which was Debra's fault. The Order settled on any black skirts high above the knee, at the thigh, so the garter clips, and different lace tops were at least visible. Any gartered stockings were allowed and it became something of a thing at the school. It wasn't about sexual expression but about femininity and excellence.

The group's primary focus was to prevent bullying, of which Debra was a strong advocate. Most of the girls were feminists or leaned strongly toward feminism in their social expression. It was odd because Debra was anything but. She was quiet, demure, and deferential; and was always, without exception polite. She was every inch a traditionalist, yet was somehow a leader of a decidedly progressive movement.