Father's Recovery Pt. 02

I set out the next morning to put my plan into action. First, I told my father that I had invited my new boyfriend home for dinner tomorrow night. I insisted that he wear his nicest clothes, and show up promptly from work at 6 PM. I warned him to be on his best behavior because this fellow might be the one. Needlessly to say, dad had no idea of what was about happen, which made it all the more exciting for me.

Next, I spent the day downstairs, scrubbing, sterilizing and arranging all the delicious items in the long abandoned "dungeon". I paid especial attention to the nastiest looking whips, and, of course, the rubber enema bags hanging from an old style IV stand. I brought my mother's old studded leather clothing and boots down from the trunk in the attic, and scrubbed them by hand.

Finally, I watched as many of my parents videos as possible, to learn what my mom liked and, most importantly, what dad feared. However, I wanted to give him some new experiences, so I researched several ideas on BDSM sites, finding several tantalizing possibilities. My panties were already damp from just thinking about trying these techniques on my dad.

The next evening came, and I dressed in mom's leathers, noting that they fit nicely on me too. I put my hair up in a tight bun, pulled on the black studded leather boots, and went downstairs, just as I heard my father come home.

"Belle, are you here?" he yelled.

I called from the basement, "Yeah, down here. Can you get dressed and come down?"

He sounded puzzle, saying, "What are doing downstairs?"

I scolded him, "Never you mind, hurry up and get dressed!"

After about 10 minutes, I heard his steps, and then he turned the corner and I saw that he was wearing a sharp looking sports jacket, blue shirt dress shirt and tie, with his normally unruly hair nicely combed.

He was instantly shocked to see me wearing mother's dom clothing. His eyes darted to the open door that lead to the dungeon room.

"You look nice," I said.

He replied nervously, "Thank you. Please tell me why you are down here dressed like that and why is that door unlocked?"

I stared at him for a long moment, giving him my most stern look. He recoiled slightly. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the dungeon door.

"What are you playing at Belle?" he demanded.

I stopped and roughly turned in toward me, sticking my index finger in front of his face, wagging it back and forth.

"Father, as you should have guessed, you are my new boyfriend. More to the point, anytime we are down here, you will only address me as Lady Belle. Understand?" I said.

He looked stunned, and then his submissive nature began to take over and he slowly lowered his head, not making a sound. I grabbed his chin hard, lifting his head, and repeating my demand to call me Lady Belle.

Finally, he whispered, "Yes, Lady Belle."

"Speak up you miserable undeserving worm!" I screamed in his face.

His eyes went wide with the use of mom's pet name for him in the dungeon. I could see the realization come across his face--he knew that I had somehow discovered their secret. After a moment, his cobalt eyes brightened and indicated his acquiesces to the shifting roles in our relationship.

"Yes, Lady Belle!" he said loudly.

I let go of his chin and yanked him into the dungeon room, pushing him toward the upright Saint Andrew's cross.

"Undress!" I commanded.

He quietly disrobed until he got to his briefs. He looked up and said, "Is this wrong?"

"I will determine what is wrong or right in this room, is that understood worm?" I said firmly.

Then, I pulled down his briefs, revealing his shapely pale ass. I walked over to the rack, picked up a particularly wicked looking glass flogger, and administered 10 sharp strokes to each of his reddening ass cheeks. He stood and took them in silence, only wincing on the last two, as put my entire strength into them.

"Looks like all those tennis lessons you made be take are now coming back to bite you in the ass, worm!" I said, with a mocking laugh.

His face blushed. He didn't resist even slightly, as I made him lay down face first on the cross, strapping his wrists and ankles tightly to the beams. I titled the cross horizontally, exposing his ass high in the air.

I picked up a feather tickler I had found in mom's trunk. In all the videos I had watched of the two of them, mom had never used it on him. I was going to find out why. I knew he was very ticklish, so this particularly cruel form of punishment was going to be fun!

The second I began fanning the tickler under his arms, he began giggling uncontrollably, and I knew why mom had waited. This was so delicious to watch, she had saved the best for the last. I kept it up, moving along his entire body, carefully taking note of the most ticklish regions. I began focusing on those areas. After just ten minutes, he was having trouble catching his breath.

He finally managed to blurt out, "Oh god, please stop!" between giggles and gasps.

"I am not god, but Lady Belle" I said calmly.

I increased the tickling pace. I only ceased tickling him when I thought he might pass out from the lack of oxygen. His face had turned a slightly blue and he shivered and shook constantly. By then, the slightest sensation, even blowing on him, caused him to shake and jerk wildly.

I laughed and said, "This is going be far more fun than I ever imagined." He whimpered, which just served to excite me further. It seems that my mom and I shared more than just our red hair color; we apparently both enjoyed tormenting this man. I smiled again, with this insight. Dad moaned softly when saw my cruel sneer.

I pulled back his head and firmly strapped a ball gag in his mouth, forcing his jaws as wide as possible. Next, I moved the IV stand with the enema bag into the small walled off area where the sink was and turned on the water. I heard dad's whimpering significantly increase, as he anticipated what was to come.

I let the water run until it was ice cold. I filled the four-quart bag almost to the brim, leaving enough room to dump in two large trays of ice cubes from the frig next to the sink. In addition, I poured in a half a glass of freshly squeezed lemon juice, making sure to mix the concoction thoroughly.

I rolled the IV stand back to the cross, the bloated enema bag swaying ominously. I made sure dad saw the bag as I approached. He made such a loud whine from beneath the ball gag that it caused juices in my pussy to begin to flow.

I spread his cheeks and gently inserted the large black ribbed enema nozzle I had selected for the evening. It was the largest in their collection, and it took a lot of wiggling and pressure to get it firmly seated. Dad grunted with each renewed try, until it finally went in all the way.

"Worm, I know enemas that give you cramps are especially hard for you to endure. So I have prepared something really special for you." I said.

I heard a satisfying groan escape from dad's gag.

I walked over to the rack of whips and took down the Cat O'Nine Tails. I had watched women on my laptop using this whip quite effectively. Now it was time to test it out myself.

I clicked open the enema value and the freezing lemon water rushed down the tube into his ass. He squirmed and then jerked, as the frigid mixture had is desired effect, delivering immediate severe cramps.

I raised the Cat O'Nine Tails high above my head, noticing that despite his agony from the enema rapidly filling him, his eyes grew even wider with apprehension. My mouth curled into a mean sneer, as I brought the tails down across his right butt cheek, with a wicked snapping sound.

He bucked as high as the restraints would allow. I followed with a rapid and continual assault on his each cheek, until my dad began sobbing from the pain of the lashes and the enema vastly distended his stomach.

The freezing water and lemon juice were the perfect combination to create severe cramping. (Dad later told me they were the most excruciating cramps he had ever endured, making me quite proud.)

His ass had puffy raised red areas all over it. I had not drawn blood, but had come close in several spots. The enema bag made a distinctive sucking sound, as the last of the four-quarts distended my father's abdomen further.

I laid down the whip, placed both of my hands palm down on his lower back, and pressed as hard as I could, really putting my weight into it. He squealed in pain, as I compressed his stomach, forcing a bit of lemon water out around the edges of the huge well-seated nozzle.

His rectum was now an angry bright red, stretched out, making it an ideal match for his already inflamed cheeks.

"From this day forward, when I tell you get down to the basement, you will stop whatever you are doing, and immediately come here, strip naked and wait for me, no matter how long it takes. Do you understand worm?" I said, pulling loose his ball gag.

I pressed and released his back in a hard fast rapid rhythm.

"Oomph, yes, Lady Belle, oomph!" he croaked. "Can I please go to the bathroom?" he pleaded.

"It has only been 10 minutes. I will release you from the cross, but you will stay put another 10 minutes, then you may relieve yourself," I said.

He groaned as I removed the nozzle, struggling not to eject any of the four-quarts of icy lemon water churning away in his colon. I unbuckled his wrist and ankle restraints. As I titled the cross upright, the enema contents shifted down into his lower abdomen, forcing a loud cry from him. He struggled to retain the enema.

"Don't spill a drop, or I will beat you unconscious," I warned.

I leaned so close to his face, I could feel his hot breath on my lips and chest. He was panting rapidly in an effort to retain all that water. I turned him around and pushed him down to his knees. Then, I forced his head to the floor, pressing his knees into his chest. As his legs compressed his stomach, he quivered with the additional strain of holding the water in.

I went to the rack and selected a whip which had a series of 5-inch long beaded tales. I knew from my research that it could impart a great deal of pain. I walked behind my dad and raised the whip. I let it hang there for some time, as he shivered bent over on the floor in expectation of the beating. He was grunting from trying to retain the lemon water, his body racked with cramps.

It was one of the most exquisite sights I have ever seen. It made my pussy ache for attention. I moved around in front of him, raised his head crouch level, adjusted my stance so my legs were apart, giving him easy access to my aching pussy.

"Lick me worm!" I commanded.

He mouth hungrily sought the depths of my pussy. Until that moment, it had never occurred to me what a long and generous tongue my father was born with. No wonder mom married him, I thought.

I raised the whip and began striking his back and butt. Watching him wither in agony from the repeated strikes and the merciless enema churning in his stomach. His deep licking and sucking quickly brought me to a knee-weakening climax. For the first time in my life, I squirted cum and he gladly swallowed all of it, hungrily sucking my pussy to clean out any remnants.

At last, I told him it was time to relieve himself, but not in the bathroom. I retrieved a large yellow mop bucket from the corner and made him squat over it. He looked up at me, so embarrassed his bowels refused to let go. I bent over, grabbed one of his nipples and squeezed hard, then harder until a blast of water and crap hit the bucket. I released and squeezed his nipples continually, each time a strong squirt would shoot out of his ass into the bucket. It was very much like milking a cow!

When he finished, I had him take the bucket into the bathroom and clean up, telling him to shower, dress, and come to dinner when he was done.

I went upstairs, took a quick shower to clean off the sweat and crap, and then put on a brightly colored sundress. I went to the kitchen and prepared dinner. By the time it was on the table, dad walked in clean, well dressed and smiling. I told him to sit down, kissing him on the forehead.

We ate dinner, talking and laughing about all kinds of things. He hadn't been this happy since my mother passed. I knew that my father would be all right now, and I could tell we were both already eagerly looking forward to many more sessions in the basement. Indeed, by the end of dinner, I had formulated the next evening's entertainment.