Debra Ch. 01

It first it was disarming; but visitors grew accustomed to it, maybe looking forward to it. It was her determined outfit, what she wore in the late afternoon even. It was clear she didn't do it in a seductive manner; it came across as natural, and part of her personality; especially to those that knew Debra's mother.

Debra never compromised on it. Sleepover at a friend's house or at an overnight church event meant she brought her light and airy things with her. She wouldn't compromise on her expression of her femininity to anyone, her mother never did, and Debra was never going to.

In a strange way Debra-Ann's dedication to Submission Obedience and Respect, SORing, made her stubborn and resistive in strange ways. She confessed when she'd been wrong, even if her Daddy didn't notice it and then insisted she needed spankings; so she got spanked, always soundly, to hurt and tears. Even maintenance spankings didn't affect her countenance. She undressed and dutifully went to it, though it as often as much left her gasping, and blubbering in tears.

Her father was concerned; because often maintenance wasn't done to adjust her behavior, just to maintain it. Debra never questioned it. She understood her father had command over her body and he knew intuitively what was right for her. If spankings were appropriate for the moment or to his whim, who was she to question it? God put him in charge of her, so it was right. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but her father felt it was necessary, so it was necessary.

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Debra worked on homework and chores longer then she needed. It seemed she had some debt to pay to someone unseen and she was making up for lost time. Debra even stopped singing and speaking at church; completely.

She and her father attended a night a week of sign language to compensate. In 1 Corinthians verse 14 was the provision that women weren't to talk at all in church. Coming through the door Sunday morning; Debra went mute. She simply remained silent the whole time.

Her father had to explain her devotion, which many saw as haughty and condescending. Debra would crudely sign and her father would translate as best he could. The Bible gave clear instruction, and Debra was not going to question it, or ignore it.

Her real friends at church; learned rudimentary sign language on their own so that they could understand her. They could speak, because Debra could hear, she just wouldn't talk, and was left with hand signals to express herself.

It later came to be endearing and people marveled that a girl so young would strip herself of one of her senses in order to be more in line with biblical principles, closer to God. In her column Debra explained it all. Though many, most, disagreed with the practice; they had to commend Debra for her piety.

Debra didn't do what she did out of pride. She just felt for once that she had personal values and family values she needed to honor and it felt better. Unlike her time in rebellion, she felt she was being what was really her, no matter the difficulty.

She was not her mother, but Debra was her mother's daughter, and it felt natural. She wore her lace exposed, not necessarily out of sexuality, though the lingering wanton looks made her tingly, but that she was proud she was a woman, and the lace, short hems, stockings was an expression of that.

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Debra and her father always made love earnestly right before church Sunday morning; at his insistence. Debra didn't always want to. It left her flushed and glowing, curled close to Daddy, sighing. She had wanted to be pure and demure in church but her father wouldn't allow it. She resisted only a couple of times, resulting in spankings.

Debra tried explaining her feelings, but how she felt didn't matter. She went over the knee the two times she resisted and had her attitude adjusted properly. Debra was then placed on her back or on her knees, over the breakfast table, and her father did as he saw fit, thrusting into her, making her gasp and moan, just before church.

After just a few thrusts she would push back against him, or wrap her legs and arms around him, cooing and sighing. She simply loved making love to her Daddy, fucking, his forcefulness; church didn't matter at those times anymore. She would sometimes orgasm, sometimes twice, having to exclaim loudly before services that she was truly a slut, her Daddy's slut, and tell God each intense orgasm.

Squeezing her nibbles gently, stroking her body; she was ashamed by this, but realized it was who she was. Semen and her own juices dripped from her slit, sitting in the pew in damp or sodden panties. God made Debra this vessel for her Daddy, he rightfully had dominance over her body, and whatever resistance she had to him was not in accordance with God's plan.

After a Sunday morning of making love, Debra would clean her father's cock with her mouth, slurping and licking until it was all clear of both their juices. Debra would get up and straighten her Sunday dress. She made sure her stocking seams were straight and garter clips were attached properly. She'd brush through her hair, and if allowed to douche or clean up, she would. If not; she wouldn't, and slowly her panties would fill up with perhaps the trickling semen inside her; during church service.

If her father didn't cum inside her on Sunday, then Debra knew she had a job to do after going to church; in the parking lot, way in the corner. There, as other people, families got into the vehicles to leave, Debra would be giving her father her best blowjob.

Debra bent over in her Sunday dress, running her father's large cock through her throat, licking and sucking in earnest, heedless that someone would see. She groaned and sighed, slurping loudly. Debra went to licking and using her teeth ever so gently. Debra covered her father's cock in salvia, smiling lovingly up at him as she pumped him with her wet hand, going back down to slurp and suck some more. She didn't care at all that she might be caught.

Eventually her father's cock was hard and he was panting; Debra sucked greedily. She then felt her mouth filled with hot semen in their truck, in the church parking lot. Debra tried hard to take down all the hot sticky bursts that were expelled, working her throat desperately. It sometimes dripped from her mouth, over her chin, onto her pretty dress, but Debra didn't care. There after church, Debra needed every bit of her father's love in her stomach and coating her throat, but drippling on her dress was okay too.

After swallowing Debra licked and sucked what semen was still on her father, the hair underneath and between his legs. It was all cleaned by Debra's tongue of all the emissions expended. It was right and proper that all her father's love, even here in the parking lot of the church, was within her, making her feel all warm and cozy feeling, contented.

Debra came up, finally sighed, looked at the church's cross on its steeple, smiled broadly and curled close to her daddy. Debra licked her lip, swallowed, and felt the protective embrace of one of her father's great arms.

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Her father would also fuck her at all hours, except when she was sleeping. He understood she needed her rest to attend to all the duties her femininity required, and her studies. She finally got on the Dean's List and was determined to remain there. She remembered when she had ignored it all, out of spite, and she hated when she was like that. She cooked and cleaned because her values required it, even though her father helped.

Often, or because people were coming over in the evening, she'd be made to ride her father on her bed upstairs, moaning and crying softly, orgasming, feeling filled with semen usually. Perhaps the people at the door might hear, Debra didn't know, in the grips of passion she learned not to care, clutching her nipples, lost in passion. She was allowed to wipe herself, but she met the visitors, un-douched; feeling the weight of her father's love inside her.

She greeted the guests in such instances often without panties. She had to tread carefully, or what was inside her would drip from between her legs. Sometimes she had to excuse herself to go attend to it, digging in with her fingers, and wipe with tissue to pull out the congealed semen. She was embarrassed, ashamed, but she had to admit she liked the feeling of her Daddy's love inside her, perhaps even the smell they made together, permeating the room. Also these were the instructions she had to follow.

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Strangely she was happier then she'd been in a long time. She was bound by conformity, her strange alluring clothes, and forced feminine traits. Most everywhere she went she was accompanied by her father, always a looming presence in the background.

There was often a troop of the Order following her around from event to event or at the mall, in their uniforms. It appeared she was not independent at all. It seemed stifling, but to Debra it was anything but. She liked herself and the arraignment. The presence of her father stripped her of anxiety, and gave her strength to be honest and forthright. She could seek counsel in him and he always gave her good advice.

Though the idea that God was watching; had been quaint, it became real for Debra. She felt lifted when she cried out in thanksgiving during sex. She felt coated inside, full of all the things that made her Daddy special.

She equated it to the Israelites need for Manna in the desert. Daddy was her representation of God. In prayer, beside her, inside her in bed, on her knees or hand in hand, Debra visualized God looking like him; being like her father. When she read her Bible and God spoke, it was her father speaking, when he filled her with semen she felt full of her Daddy's spirit.

They loved a lot, often at Debra's request, as she was sensitive like her mother and young. Debra felt this was right what her body was for, God's intent. She knew in the past women were given over to childbearing at an early age. Her father couldn't have more children but he was preparing her for a time she'd want her husband seed to mix with her own fertility.

She learned to love the feeling, almost constant, of semen inside of her, dripping from her, after being filled completely with her Daddy's love. She felt it inside her panties at school; also stimulated her and made her panties even wetter. Between classes she'd often masturbate if given permission by her father on the phone.

Debra thought God was showing her a sign how he approved of her submission to her Daddy. Her body's response was proof of that. That was also what her Daddy taught. When she was sexually excited that was a gift from God, a message, a blessing. An orgasm was even more so; that was why she had to tell God when she had one. Debra certainly agreed with that and was always dutiful in telling God, thanking God every time she had an orgasm, when her Daddy was inside her.

It was embarrassing though, when she was somewhere public, touching herself; that she couldn't whisper. She didn't have to yell, but she did have to express it to God in an honest respectful speaking voice. In a restroom, maybe with people entering the restroom, Debra had her sopping hand in her wet panties, or they were pushed to her ankles. She'd be groaning, panting out to God she was having an orgasm, other people probably hearing.

Debra would leave the stall flushed trying not to stumble, wiping clean her dripping fingers, leaving a sheen on the floor. Then she would shamefully try to clean it all up with paper towels. She'd go about straitening her skirt, or dress, touching up her makeup or brushing through her disheveled hair. Other people using the facility; Debra just knew people knew she was in bathroom masturbating. Also Debra thought the smell of what she did was noticeable. She worked diligently on her female hygiene.

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Time went on. Debra was known for her grace and beauty, also her traditionalist stance. Rarely was she seen without her father being a looming presence. She continued to be an extremely provocative dresser, known for her exposed lingerie. It became somewhat her signature and she lost all of her resistance to wearing lace in public. She could be seen in corsets and long lace baby doll dresses over stockings. It wasn't slutty as elegant and romantic in their style.

Debra was obedient to her father in sexual matters, completely trusting in his instruction and guidance. In a secluded booth of a busy restaurant, she'd masturbate when told to. Debra learned to do this without resistance, losing all her embarrassment or shame; or that someone might see.

Her father would whisper to her, Debra would smile and do as instructed. Sometimes before she started, she'd be allowed to push her lace panties to her ankles, sometimes not. She always climaxed quietly, biting her father's arm and shuttering, so as to not raise an alarm.

At these times, no matter how crowded the area was, she'd touch herself. One hand was between her legs, the other at her blouse, or at her dress, touching her covered breast. She'd finger between her legs and stroke her hard nipples, learning not to care, pleasuring herself in the open, closing her eyes. Her father made sure they were in a secluded part of the establishment.

After but a few minutes, Debra would be sighing and panting quietly, her eyes, glazed, half closed, ignoring the world. Finally with a groan, but not whispering, Debra was telling God and her Daddy she was climaxing. If she had her hands in her panties she had to express also that she was appropriately creaming her panties, and she felt the fabric soaking up her orgasmic juices. She shook and shuddered visibly, her fingers dancing over and in her aching body.

She'd shine in perspiration, openly flush, obviously having a deep and glorious orgasm in so public a place. She always remembered what to say, it was a prayer of sorts, an exhortation to God perhaps. In the end she sat in her own orgasmic juices.

If they pulled to the side of the road, or were sometimes on a walk, in a seclude spot; she knew what to expect. Early; she'd look around, at first resisted, afraid someone might come upon them. But a few times over the knee, right there, in the open, corrected her of her bashfulness.

She'd get to understand her father's very glance and know what was expected of her, which was; willing and complete submission. At secluded picnic areas she'd pull off her panties without even looking around. If there was a table she'd remove her underthings, spread her legs and bend over it. If not, go to her hands and knees, feet apart in the dirt. As her father was in charge, it didn't matter who saw, it didn't matter where she was.

She took her Daddy, pushing back, knees and palms dirty from the ground perhaps, panting and sighing also in time with her father. As he sawed into her, she'd often got lost in passion, fall forward onto her elbows, dirtying her arms, and panting, drooling.

Her fingers would grasp the rough surface she was on. Her father would then take a full handful of her long locks and pull; bring her up, past on her hands and knees; to her finger tips, higher than that. Debra would hang there dazed, pivoting on her father's surging cock. Her eyes widened, she gasped. She felt him buried in her, his tip nudged under her cervix, and it made her wince. "Daddy" was all she could say; whimper quietly and moan. She then went back to the proper position and stayed there, her father pumping her full of his semen.

Sometimes in these degrading circumstances Debra didn't orgasm, though often she did, crying out to God in passion. She always took her father's love appreciatively. It was what God made her for, and Debra was content with that. After the encounter; she had to contend with her own wet Princess Parts, dripping semen, even with her panties back on. She was used to this also, after so many times.

She also tried anal sex, which she didn't like at first, at least the preparation. She grew to accept it as necessary, for the two of them to find it enjoyable. She was given two vegetable Glycerin Suppositories to insert before dinner. By the end of meal she had to go. She relieved herself. She was then to be on her hands and knees on her bed and her father administered a disposable enema. After that she went again and a longer enema was administered.

At first the poking of the hose and nozzle and the fluid inside her was difficult and she complained. When she resisted, moved away, or swatted with her hand she was rebuked. She got a couple of firm slaps on her raised buttocks as reinforcement. She groaned even the first time, but retained a full quart. She relieved herself again and knew she was empty and clean in her sensitive hole.

Daddy used a slim vibrator, lubricated it, and ran it in and out of her clenched sphincter. She was told to relax and she tried. The vibration was weird, but felt good. The more it moved the better it felt.

She started sighing, moving back against it, it was twisted and that felt even more enjoyable. It went in and touched the wall of her rectum. She liked that, and had to tell Daddy that. She began playing with herself with one free hand. The vibrator went back and forth, getting faster and faster, and touching different places inside.

She gasped and an orgasm was upon her, she grimaced, moved her hand under her faster and faster, and screamed. Her body clenched and she told God and her Daddy she was cumming. Her juices dripped from her fingers. She whimpered when the vibrator was taken out. She kept moving her fingers and the other pinched her nipples. Debra knew she was a slut; her Daddy's slut.

Daddy got between her legs and pushed in his lubricated cock. Debra gasped, and almost fell forward. She got a crack with a hand on her backside and her hair pulled. This helped her get into position and push back. She did, and winced to feel the large cock go through her sphincter. Her father's cock sawed back and forth slowly and stretched her. Bit by bit it went deeper slowly. She panted. She kept pushing back and forth, eventually it was fully in.

She felt full and she liked the fact she'd been emptied so now she felt only cock inside her. She let Daddy fuck her very slowly in her backside and she continued touching herself. Debra groaned uncomfortably when her father's cock swelled, stretched her sphincter and rectum, even farther. It felt that her inside were being filled to bursting and her father emptied a load of semen into her rectum. A few moments after more touching, she had a second climax of her own. Debra felt very much a slut, told God and her Daddy that was the case; before falling forward, semen drolling from her backside. Daddy fell beside her and Debra looked at him dreamily. "I need spankings she slurred, I showed resistance to you, that's not SORing. "

Daddy stroked her hair "Yes Princess. You'll get them because you need them; because I love you." Debra-Ann smiled and curled close, juices of her own and from her Daddy leaked onto the Kitty Kat Duvet, one of many such stains.

Epilogue

Debra didn't graduate at the top of her class, or in that group. She did graduate with honors, a solid 'B'. She owed that wincingly to her father's insistence at persistent discipline which she still hated, but seemed to begrudgingly need. It wasn't just that; his cruel hard hand, but the soft touch on her back as he helped her with homework, or a passage of scripture.

Debra didn't give a speech because of her grades, but did because she was the beloved leader of the Order of the Garter. Before her, at graduation they all took off their robes when she climbed the stage to give her speech.