Heavenly Father, Earthy Father

Until she was 18, Sara was nothing if not prude. She was raised in a household where Sundays were spent at church, followed by bible study and another "dinner service" on Sunday nights. Additional mandatory bible study took place on Wednesday nights in her school's gymnasium, as she went to Blessed Trinity Catholic School, and the church, with its large halls for social gatherings and its newly renovated facilities, had become a regular hangout spot for her and her friends. Sara wasn't allowed to attend coed educational institutions until she was 16, and on her birthday, her parents made her sign a pledge saying she would stay chaste and faithful, and to serve only her God until she was married; only then could she serve another. They signed waivers to excuse her from the weeks of health class where the reproductive system and sexual education was (briefly) covered, even though the school made students sign abstinence pledges. Her parents didn't want to spark her curiosity in any way, and they knew teenagers loved nothing more than to talk about (and, God forbid, have) sex.

Her father sat her down at least twice a month to make sure his daughter was still pure. Sometimes he would wait until her mother was gone for a few hours to have those talks because he had always shared a special connection with his daughter, and noticed her elevated levels of nerves and tension around his wife. He would begin by asking her simple questions, meant to help her feel comfortable. He would usually coax her into the kitchen with the promise of a bottle, Dr. Pepper, her favorite soda, and a cupcake from her favorite bakery. His wife kept sugar out of the house, and Sara could never resist. He would ask her to tell him the Ten Commandments, as well as phrases and excerpts from the book of Matthew or Exodus that he had made her memorize as a child. He would tell her, as he had so many times, that she was to serve both her heavenly and earthly fathers, and that this servitude could involve compromises or submissions that might not always be comfortable. Sara had been trained well, and it was embedded in her...she was made to serve both of her Fathers, and would always dedicate herself to that.

*

It was a warm afternoon in April the first time he noticed how covered in temptation his daughter was. She was laying out in the sun on an unusually nice day for New Hampshire. It should have been cold still, with the frost of the night covering branches of frail trees and causing girls' nipples to remain hard no matter how many layers they wore, but no, today was a beautiful day. Sara was laying out on the driveway with Darcy, her best friend who didn't go to Sara's school, but attended the bible study sessions every now and then; the gatherings were open to public and private school students. Darcy would always end up on the side of the gym with a boy, taunting him with her fresh, virgin body, and sometimes Sara caught her toying with the only lesbian in their entire class, drawing her in with her sweet, husky voice and intoxicating scent. Sara noticed how Darcy 's hips moved when she spoke to the cute boys, or when a girl was close to her, whispering gossip in her ear and letting her breath settle on their neck; Darcy would find a way to gingerly touch them, perhaps letting her hand graze their breasts as she would hug them. Sara was intrigued with Darcy and lately her father had been pushing her to make some more friends at church.

"The more girls the better," he would tease, "as long as you know I'm the only man you need."

*

Sara could feel a warm tingling sensation starting to reverberate through her, and she could feel her pulse increasing in intervals as Darcy's fingers started to delicately trace her nipples underneath her bikini top. They hadn't kissed, just teased each other about doing it, and Darcy had somehow steered the topic of conversation to how their breasts were developing. She did this so effortlessly; Sara was completely oblivious to her intentions but her body knew what it craved.

"Yours are totally bigger than mine!" Sara noticed, as Darcy adjusted her bikini top.

"No way," Darcy retorted, "but honestly, there's no difference to guys, they don't care if you're a 32 A or a 34 DD. I bet your dad doesn't care about the size of your mom's," Darcy continued to tease and noticed Sara shifting slightly, her shoulders tense and face contorted at the thought of her mother and father together.

"Oh, come on," Darcy nudged her, causing a smile to sweep over Sara's freckled, sun-kissed face, "your mom and dad love each other, the Lord's plan worked for them or whatever...so it's okay!"

Sara hated the way Darcy could sometimes seem condescending about her religious beliefs but she loved her company so much she pushed it aside. Besides, she came to bible study and Sara figured maybe that could save Darcy in the end. The day was getting even warmer as the sun rested at the zenith of its cycle around the girls who were so lost in conversation and naïve flirtation that they didn't hear Sara's dad coming down the driveway.

"Come on, Sara, don't be such a prude," Darcy was in the middle of her routine taunting as she reached out to playfully pinch Sara's nipples the way she always did with the boys at school. Sara was trying to pinch her back when her father reached them. Darcy had always wanted to tell Sara that her mom was a lucky woman; Sara's dad was tall and broad, his muscular swimmer's body had retained its tone with age, and he had crystal blue eyes that seemed to cut through people like a hot knife to butter when he maintained eye contact long enough. His scruffy salt-and-pepper beard complimented his jawline, and he was always poised in his movements. Darcy truly thought he was flawless, the kind of man every girl wants to have, even if it only happened once, but she could never tell Sara that.

"Are you girls having fun?"

Darcy let his deep, comforting voice fill her and run through her veins, her heart skipping a little as he stood over her; her face was level with his crotch. She could make out the outline of his bulge through his perfectly ironed khaki shorts.

"Yeah, Mr. H., we definitely are. I was just telling Sara how lucky she is to have parents who love each other as much as you and the missus," Darcy fibbed, and she was keen to doing so.

He gave the girls a small laugh, and asked Darcy if she was always so charming. Sara responded with a very noticeable eye roll and Darcy couldn't help but perk up, sitting straighter and smiling wider as she responded, "It takes a charmer to know one, Mr. H, and I bet Mrs. H loves your charm." He noticed small shifts in the way she was maneuvering her body, almost as if...no he had to be imagining it. He tried to find another bible verse to quote for the girls as a sort of quick derailment from a potentially sinful conversation but he was stumbling on this thoughts as he noticed how Darcy's hip bones jutted out, caused her bathing suit bottoms to leave a small gap where he could slightly see the delicate skin beneath the fabric. His mouth watered.

"Did you need anything, Daddy?" Sara asked, and he found himself pleased with the sweet tone behind her voice as opposed to the blatant annoyance he had seen so many teenagers express toward their parents.

"Yes, baby," he started, "I was wondering if you and Darcy would like to join me in a few minutes for a bite to eat? Your mom made way too much egg salad, and I just made some fresh lemonade, perfect on a hot day like this one." Darcy practically jumped to her feet and answered for the both of them.

"That sounds perfect, Mr. H!"

Sara didn't know why she felt a little jealous of the smile her Daddy returned to Darcy, then again, her Daddy was always kind and giving and the world needed more people like that so she was okay with sharing. She gathered all of their things and offered to carry Darcy's stuff for her, in an attempt to be a good host, just the way her mother had taught her. Darcy didn't even hesitate to let her, and on the way inside Sara noticed a little extra bounce Darcy had given her steps as she walked next to Sara's father, who seemed extremely engaged in their boring conversation about next week's church pot luck.

Three place settings on the simple kitchen table marked where the trio would enjoy their lunch together. The pitcher of lemonade sat in the middle next to an enormous bowl of egg salad, the only dish Mrs. H had actually mastered making from scratch. Sara decided to drop off their towels and shoes and bottles of tanning oil in her bathroom, and as she bounced up the stairs she could hear Darcy's flirtatious laugh as her Daddy made some kind of horrible joke with a cheesy pun. She felt another tinge of jealousy, but brushed it off. She didn't know why she was jealous or why she was having feelings of possession over her father and her best friend, but she wanted to hurry back downstairs before anymore harmless flirting could take place. Throwing the towels on the bathroom floor, which her father would scold her for later, and hurriedly making sure all of Darcy's stuff was somewhat together in a pile, Sara ran back downstairs, still in her bathing suit and smelling of tanning oil. She rounded the corner from the foyer into the kitchen and almost fell to the floor from shock. Her father had Darcy bent over the countertop, bathing suit bottoms at her ankles, and he had gagged her with a dishrag.

"You're a little slut, you know that?" Her father was spanking Darcy the way he had spanked Sara when she was much younger, and he was too wrapped up in his discipline to notice his daughter watching him.

"You're lucky I don't call your father and tell him what you just said to me, you little whore," and with that gave her another hard slap on the ass. Sara could see tears forming in Darcy's eyes but her ass was propped high in the air and she didn't seem to be backing away from the pain. Sara was still unable to speak, all she could do was observe, and then he noticed her watching.

"Do you know what your little whore friend just said to me, Sara?" She shook her head side-to-side, still silent and awestruck. She could see Darcy's ass getting redder, and yet her hips seemed to sway ever so slightly in the way that they did when she talked to cute boys.

"No, sir," she managed to speak and tried to look Darcy in the eye, who was partially turned away, moaning and whimpering, gagged and controlled.

He removed the dishrag from Darcy's mouth and slapped her again on the ass so hard Darcy's knees buckled. "Tell her, you little slut," he demanded, "Tell my daughter what you just said to her father."

Darcy's face was red and her eyes were puffy, Sara could tell she wanted to cry, or perhaps already had a little, and she awaited her friend's response anxiously.

"I told him I could see why you're so beautiful, because his looks are killer," she started but got cut off by another hard slap to her ass. She whimpered again, and continued to talk through heavy breathing, "And I told him if I were your mom I would have as many babies with him as possible, but I just meant..." and she received another aggressive slap on her ass.

"Don't give her excuses," Sara's father cut in, "You knew what you meant when you said that to me. You've been tempted by sin, and you want to bring my daughter to sin. I saw how you were flirting with her in the driveway." Another slap on Darcy's ass and Sara felt she had to interject.

"Daddy, it's not like that at all!" Sara was determined to change his mind. She couldn't have her father thinking that Darcy was a slut; they would never be able to hang out again.

"Young lady," he sneered, his voice slowly rising, causing the tension in Sara's bones to build and her face to feel flushed, "are you actually trying to disagree with me?"

Sara vigorously shook her head back and forth, "God, no Daddy, I just..."

"And you just took the Lord's name in vain. Obviously Darcy has been a bad influence on you," and he slapped her on the ass again. Warmth radiated from between Darcy's thighs, and after each spank he would let his hand linger just beneath her pussy, taunting her, teaching her.

Sara was still frozen, paralyzed by fear and confusion. As she watched her best friend get disciplined she felt...jealous. Darcy was beautiful and made Sara feel like a child sometimes with how she carried herself. In the short span of time between her coming into their house and Sara leaving for only a few moments, Darcy was drawing Sara's father to sin, and Sara knew they needed discipline because her thoughts about Darcy had recently become impure.

"Sara," her father broke her daze, "Come over here...now." Taught to obey, Sara slowly made her way over to her father, discovering that the source of Darcy's intoxicating scent lay between her legs all along. Darcy had been gagged again with the dishrag. Sara stood next to her father with her head bowed, too embarrassed by her friend's behavior to look at him, and she knew she was about to be punished too, but usually Daddy made her memorize bible verses or repeat the Ten Commandments to him until she was red in the face; she had never seen him like this.

"Have you thought about this girl's pussy before?" Daddy asked, and Sara was completely shocked into silence. Darcy was whimpering and Sara noticed her hips were still gyrating, rocking slowly back and forth. She could reach out and touch her pussy if she wanted to, or even kneel down and taste it...but no, no Daddy was in charge. She was there to serve him and only him, and aside from God, he was her master.

"Daddy, no, I want to be a good girl for you. I want to follow your guidance and live through you and through God, the way you taught me." Sara was pleased with her answer, and hoped he would be too.

"What a perfect answer," he cooed, and Sara felt momentary relief, "But you need to be more convincing. You think I don't know you? You think I can't read through you? I know what you desire." Sara's eyes darted to the floor, her body tensed up; her pussy had started to soak her bathing suit bottoms.

"Give me your hands," he demanded, and Sara obeyed her Daddy. He took them, guided her to be directly behind Darcy, facing her and away from him, and placed her hands on Darcy's ass, a hand on each cheek. Sara could feel the heat radiating off of Darcy's skin where her Daddy had punished her.

"If you move those hands from where your Master has placed them, you will regret it," he warned, and Sara heard Darcy let out another whimper.

"Yes, sir," she managed to get out before she could realize what was happening. In one swift motion her Daddy had gotten her out of her bathing suit. The single bow that tied the top together in the back was undone, and the bottoms met her ankles, she felt the warm air meet her pussy as it became exposed to him completely. Fuck, she thought, I'm not supposed to be shaved. Sara had taken a razor from her mom's room a few days ago and, despite her parent's griping, shaved her legs like the other girls at school had been doing for so long, and Darcy had convinced her to shave the rest. "Boys like it better," she told Sara, as they walked home that day.

"You little slut..." Daddy said in an almost growl from somewhere deep in his gut, "I bet she convinced you to do this," motioning his head toward Darcy. Sara wanted to protect her friend but she was compelled to please Daddy, to obey him, she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Yes, sir," Sara managed to finally get an answer out in a meek, sad voice.

"Well, you're going to help me punish her. Spank her," he commanded Sara with his deep, authoritarian voice, and he knew she was never going to be able to tell him no. Even when she married, he would still be her sole Master, and take her anytime he pleased. The right man for her would know that sharing Sara was a part of serving God. Sara looked back at her father, confused and scared, and lifted her right hand slowly. She brought it back down on Darcy's ass with pathetic force, and her father couldn't help but chuckle.

"Not like that," he laughed, moving her hands and replacing them with his own, "Like this," and he slapped Darcy on the ass so hard the sound reverberated through the kitchen, accompanied by her scream, muffled still by the dishrag.

Sara tried again, and slapped Darcy as hard as she could, hitting a spot that was already noticeably redder than other spots. Darcy let out another muffled cry and for some reason Sara felt accomplished; she had done well in obeying Daddy, just as she'd been taught.

"Good girl," he cooed to his daughter, still standing directly behind her, blocking her small body so that she was now standing right against Darcy whose newly beaten ass remained raised and rested against Sara's stomach. His cock filled with blood and desire, and he took his sweet girl's innocent hands, held them with one hand behind her back, and swiftly found her pussy, soaked and yearning, with the other hand.

"See, baby girl, your body reacts well to submission and discipline," and he started playing with his sweet daughter's clit while her best friend remained trapped against the counter. He owned Sara's body; the Lord had given it to him, and he was ready to give into his cravings and his deep, protective need to discipline his beautiful girl, all to serve his God. Her pussy dripped its sweet, virgin nectar onto his hand, and Sara moaned with agony. Why was he doing this? She was so embarrassed, so confused, but she couldn't help but writhe and moan with every movement of her Daddy's touch. Suddenly he stopped, and Sara found herself wanting him even more. He sensed her wantonness, and he was livid. She was learning nothing.

"Both of you," he commanded, "Face me and get on your knees." The girls didn't hesitate and assumed their positions, ready to be taught their lesson about not being deviant little whores. The two girls, nude, exposed and embarrassed, exchanged looks of apprehension, partly fear, and partly...

"Please, Mr. H," Darcy started, and he quickly corrected her.

"You will call me Master, child," he demanded, "And you will obey your Master as the Lord intended. You were made to serve."

"Yes, Master," she answered, and Sara felt jealous again. He pulled out his perfect cock, the instrument of his authority, and smiled to see the way the girls' eyes widened.

"Daddy!" Sara had no idea what he was doing, and she was already so embarrassed, but seeing Darcy lick her lips and inch closer towards Sara's father, she followed.

'You little sluts," he sneered, and grabbed each by the hair, "You aren't properly serving me. You don't make a move until I say," and with that he shoved his cock in his daughter's mouth. She choked on him, feeling his cock meet the back of her throat, and had never felt more humiliated...but she was serving her Master, and wanted to please him. He pulled Darcy's hair harder as his daughter choked on his cock. "You're next," he promised. Sara's eyes were filling with tears as her Daddy pumped in and out of her virgin mouth. Why was her pussy reacting, secreting her desire down her thigh? Suddenly he pulled her to her feet, and tested the young girl; Darcy remained on her knees.

"Repeat your commandments," he said, as he pulled Darcy close to him and forced himself into her mouth. Sara couldn't speak, let alone remember the Ten Commandments, and as the words failed her, disappointment swept across her father's face. "Still haven't learned, huh?" And he pulled back from Darcy. "Get on the kitchen table, legs open for me to see your sin," and Sara obeyed her Master. Darcy, still being held by her hair, was also pulled to her feet as he dragged her over to where his daughter was now on display. He pushed Darcy into one of the kitchen chairs, their place settings for lunch now splayed haphazardly. "If you take your eyes off of this, off of us, I will make you pay," and Darcy, though terrified, could not bring herself to look away as her best friend was forced to serve her earthly Master.