My Sweet Slave Sara

I guess you could say that I have the best of both worlds. I have a daughter who is smart, popular, and beautiful and she adores me. I have a slut who willingly does the nastiest things, and begs me to whip her until I cum from the deep pleasure of her tears. The best part is that my slut and my daughter are the same person. My story starts about 2 years ago. My wife had died in a drunk driving accident leaving me alone with our 18-year-old daughter. We were devastated by her death. Monica had held the family together and when she was taken, we literally fell apart. Sara became quiet and withdrawn, always deep in her books. Her only pleasure seemed to come from her cheerleading squad and the football games she attended. I also enjoyed watching her out there, so happy again. I had a hard time getting excited about the rest of my life. I had built a thriving accounting business but numbers no longer mattered to me. Everything came to a head one weekend.

Having just returned from a short business trip to the home office of a big client of mine, I got a call from the police. Sara had been arrested for underage drinking. It was hard to believe that my little Angel Sara, as her mother and I often called her, could be involved so far from her usual behavior. I arrived at the police station and was further surprised when they brought Sara to where I was waiting. Sara was quite drunk and barely dressed. She was wearing the skimpiest shirt and nothing underneath. I remembered hearing her mother start nagging years ago that she was too big to go without decent coverage. Seeing her breasts half exposed under the shirt, I realized she had continued to develop. Her lower half was no better shape, overexposed by a tiny pair of blue jean cutoffs that looked 3 sizes too small. Sara looked so humiliated, degraded by the way I was looking at her and by the leers from the others in the room. The tears in her eyes echoed the disappointment I felt. I wondered how I could have avoided this and how I could ensure it never happened again. Out of embarrassment, I took off my coat and draped it around her. I took the paperwork handed to me by the sheriff as he remanded her to my custody.

As we walked to the car, Sara stumbled a bit, still quite drunk. Her face was quite pale and just a bit green. I buckled Sara into the backseat after first covering it with a blanket. Judging by the amount of liquor on her breath, I imagined soon some of it would be coming back up. I drove home slowly, listening to Sara sob in the back seat, still huddled in my coat. I was happy to find that she had not thrown up in the car, although as soon as I pulled her out, she knelt on the ground and vomited.

I found myself torn between being so angry, so furious that she would do something this stupid and wanting to pat her head and tell her things would be all right. Once she stopped throwing up, I helped her to her feet again and led her into the house. I was very glad that the privacy of our lot kept prying eyes off my bedraggled daughter. As we approached the house, I debated bringing her in and considered hosing her off outside. She stunk of vomit and alcohol, but my gentler nature prompted me to take her inside. I often wonder if things would have turned out different if I had not.

As we entered the house, Sara was whimpering, 'Daddy, I am so sorry I did this, so sorry I disappointed you. Please Daddy say something.' I shook my head.

I decided to take her up to the master bathroom. It was the largest in the house and had a double sized shower. My thoughts flashed to a memory of Monica showering in there, the clear walls hiding nothing from me. I ended up half carrying her up the stairs, she was still crying and weaving about, unsteady on her feet. She kept apologizing to me, begging me not to be mad, and telling me she was sorry for what she had done. I worked hard to hold onto my anger. Sara had to learn an important lesson and I was the only one left in her life to teach it to her. I was torn between wanting to spank her so hard that she would feel it for a week and holding her in my arms, promising to protect her better in the future. I hated myself that I had left her alone and was thankful my trip had ended a day early - the thought of my daughter spending a night in police custody sent shivers down my spine.

When we got to the bathroom, I ripped my coat off her overexposed body, opened the shower door and shoved her into the stall, clothes and all. I saw the surprise on her face change to shock as I turned on the cold water full force. I slammed the door shut.

Sara jumped up from the crouched position where she had fallen and clawed at the water to change the temperature. Her first self protective act since I had picked her up pleased me. She pealed off the coat and started to pull down her shorts. I turned my head to give her some privacy, only to hear her fall down. She cried out to me asking for help, so I turned back to her.

The sight before me left me speechless. She was lying on her side, with her back and bottom to me. Her pussy was covered with soft tufts of hair and yet so deliciously formed that I could see each part of it, the soft outer lips, the pouting inner lips and her clitoris. Even her tiny rosebud anus was exposed to me. My cock jumped of its own need as I stood there, staring at my all too grown up daughter. She cried out to me to help her, which broke my reverent visual worship of her body. I reached into the shower, drenching myself in the spray and lifted her to her feet. She started to stumble again and it was then that I realized her little tiny shorts were wrapped around her ankles. My cock jumped again, thinking about how she was trapped, held in bondage by that little bit of fabric, unable to escape me.

I shook off the thought and reached down to release her feet. As I did, she leaned against me. Her nipples seemed to taunt me as they pressed into my back. I pulled the shorts loose and then tossed them into the trash, wishing I could throw away the sexual thoughts I was having with them. Once her shorts were off her legs, Sara stood back up and leaned against the far shower wall. Lust overrode caution and I offered to help her off with her shirt. She raised her arms, like she did as a little girl, waiting to have help with her clothes. I lifted the half T-shirt off her chest and then froze as her luscious breasts were exposed. I thought that the shirt left nothing to the imagination, but I was wrong. The soft pink of her large nipples looked exquisite against the whiteness of her large breasts. They seemed so big, so full, so tight. I knew that if I tried to cover one, it would take both my hands to hold in that much flesh. The nipples stood strong against the pounding shower. Sara whimpered and I realized I had only pulled the shirt far enough to cover her face. I pulled the shirt off the rest of the way. Sara reached out and touched me, her hand pulling me towards her.

I muttered something about her calling me if she needed something and beat a hasty retreat out of the bathroom. My clothes were soaking wet from the shower, so I stripped them off. I grabbed my old bathrobe from my closet and fell into a soft chair. I loved this chair. This was the chair where I sat to spank Monica and on very rare occasions where she would spank me. We also used to fuck on the chair, Monica riding my cock. I closed my eyes and began to stroke my cock, thinking about my wife. Her tits bouncing in front of me, begging to be pinched until she whimpered. As I sat there, my cock grew harder, fuller. My fantasies changed, the woman on top of me had larger breasts and a tiny waist. I jerked open my eyes as I realized I was picturing Sara fucking me, begging me to touch her, begging to cum. I forced my eyes opened as I heard Sara crying out again. I turned to see her still standing in the shower, apparently pulling on her nipples. It looked like she had just cum, her face was flushed and her head was thrown back. I berated myself again for thinking nasty thoughts about her and turned my head away, once again giving her a measure of privacy.

I heard the shower shut off and jumped to my feet, stuffing my very full cock into the robe with great difficulty and only marginal success. Sara didn't seem to notice as she stumbled out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a navy blue bath towel. She was still crying and came over to me for a hug. I let her burrow into my chest as she had before when life had been rough. I held her tight in my arms and tried not to think of loosening the towel nor her nearly naked body rubbing against mine. I led her into her room, pulled back the bedspread and sheet and lifted her into bed. I covered her up with the sheet and walked out of the room. My cock was once again at full mast, demanding we go in there and watch her. I closed the door to the thoughts and to Sara's room.

I headed straight for the bathroom. Perhaps a cold shower for me would put things into their correct perspective. I set the water for barely lukewarm and climbed in. I stood there for awhile, letting the water pound against my skin. Finally I gave into the need that threatened to overwhelm me. I warmed the water to a more comfortable temperature, took a bar of soap, coated my hands then stroked my cock. I had been masturbating this way since Monica died, trying to find some satisfaction in a less than satisfactory method.

'Daddy?' Sara asked in a confused tone.

My eyes flew open to find her standing in my bathroom, wearing nothing and watching me jerk off. My hand spread open to cover my cock in embarrassment.

'I called and you didn't answer.'

'I will be out in a minute sweetie. Go back to your room.' My voice quivered with unanswered desire.

Sara stood frozen in place. Since she was still staring at my erection, I turned my back to her, willing her to leave.

After a short pause, Sara left the room and seemed to go back to hers. I hurriedly washed the rest of my body, ignoring my still erect cock - it had been washed enough - and then turned off the shower. I grabbed a towel from the pile and wrapped it around my waist, covering and hopefully concealing my erection. I stepped out of my bathroom to find Sara, not in her room, but on lying naked on my bed. She was on her back, with her knees up and her legs spread wide open. Once again her beautiful cunt and big firm tits were exposed to me. Her right hand was stroking a very aroused clitoris and her left hand was pulling on her distended nipple. My eyes raped her body as she lay there exposed. She must have seen the desire in my eyes.

'Daddy, please help me.' Sara whimpered, her voice also filled with desire. 'I want to cum, Daddy, help me, please touch me.'

My cock jumped at the chance, but my logical brain held me back.

'Sara, what the hell are you doing? Get your hand out from between your legs. You look like a cheap slut.' Moving to the end of the bed, I grabbed her hand. The scent of her sweet pussy filled my nostrils. My cock became engorged. My thoughts froze on pulling her to me and taking what she was offering. She saw my weakness and felt my grip on her arm loosen. Sara shook her hand free of my grasp and grabbed at my cock pushing hard against the towel. I groaned and threw my head back in surrender. She moved her hand up and down the hard shaft, the towel providing a delicious friction to her soft stroke. I arched my hips into the motion, completing shutting down my conscience. The cum was rising in my balls, tightening them. My cock was waiting to shoot, waiting to complete this sexual dance.

Sara rolled over to me and in one motion, pulled the towel free from my cock and buried her face onto it. I could feel the breaths from her nose tickle the hairs around my cock, but most of the sensation was her delicious mouth. She milked my cock like a professional cocksucker, fitting it all in her mouth and then swallowing it, teasing the head with her throat muscles. My cock was no match for her expertise and began to ejaculate, filling her throat, and, as she pulled back a bit, her mouth. The spurts slowed and I looked down to see my little angel with cum dripping from the sides of her mouth. Her hands were once again playing with her body.

As the sexual lassitude left me, I flushed with the shame of my violating my daughter. I backed away from the bed, disturbed that I had fucked my baby's face, filled her with a huge load of cum, some of which she was now licking off her lips. There was no disgust in her eyes though. Instead she seemed hotter and even more eager.

'Daddy, please, please touch me.'

I stood there, baffled. I wanted to touch her; wanted to climb between those thighs and bring her to a shattering orgasm, to match, or even better, surpass the one she had given me. But I knew it was wrong, terribly wrong. I had to be the adult in this situation, had to put the needs of my daughter ahead of mine. I stood transfixed for a moment, watching Sara's hands return to pleasuring her body. Her right hand was buried deep between her soft thighs and her left hand pulled once again at her rigid nipple. I approached the bed and pushed Sara's hands to her sides. She whimpered and tried to get free, but I held her hands in that position. Her eyes pleaded with me, her whimpers telling me of her unfulfilled need. Her hips bucked, mimicking a sexual act that they should not have known.

'Please, Daddy, I have to cum, please.' I shuddered, then surrendered. Still holding her arms to her side, I climbed on top of her. Sara threw her legs open, but I ignored the invitation to fuck her and instead moved my head down to that most precious vee. I inhaled her soft, musky scent as I got closer, then buried my head into that nest of curls. I moved my face back and forth, letting my mustache start to tickle against her clit and softly swollen lips. My tongue darted out to taste her. Her moan filled the room. She tasted of a summer heat, of passion left unanswered; she was sweet and earthy, like the rain on a summer night. My tongue explored more, finding her clit and lapping at it, much to her pleasure, judging by the moans that only grew louder.

Soon her hips were bucking, trying to get more. I continued to tease her, not wanting it to end. My hands still held hers at her sides and she had begun to twist her body, trying to rub her nipples. I finally relented and moved her hands to her breasts, leaving them there to stroke, pinch, tease. My hands moved lower, stroking her soft belly, then opening her lips letting her clit stand out farther. At first, I just blew on it, warm, then cold air, watching her response. She nearly howled with desire. Her hands were plucking at her nipples, roughly pulling on them, distending her breasts. It was obvious she was hurting them just a bit and decided to see if she wanted roughness down here as well. I found her delightful nubbin again with my tongue, but rather than lapping at it again moved my mouth down on it and bit gently. Sara came unglued, thrashing on the bed. And then I felt the dampness soak the bedspread. She had ejaculated as she reached a very powerful orgasm. Her hands still pulled at her nipples, though perhaps not as hard. She still was whimpering a bit and in my need, I tasted her again. She lifted her hips as I got closer and instead of a button, I found my tongue being swallowed by her very wet cunt. I pushed my head in deeper and sucked the fluid from her pussy. It wasn't enough for her. She was begging.

'Please Daddy, take me, please.'

I couldn't go that far, but my fingers were ready to take on a new task. I shifted on the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. I knew there was a pair of lonely clover clamps that would be happy to be pinching a new pair of anguished nipples. Sara looked down when she heard the rattle. I was pleased to see a bit of fear added to the excitement glowing in her eyes. She made no move to pull away so I shifted back to her side and plucked roughly at her right nipple. As I grabbed it, I looked into her eyes, watching her responses. I squeezed my fingers together tighter and watched the fear and pain grow. My spent cock jerked when I saw her wince. She never even attempted to pull away or to push my hand off her tit, stopping her torment. I noticed her right hand was once again buried in her wet cunt. I picked up the clamp and squeezed the padded jaws open with my fingers. I carefully positioned the opening over her reddened nipple and looked again into her eyes.

They shown brightly at me, filled with trust and need. I knew when I released the clamp her look would change. I was eager yet wanted the moment to last. Sara wiggled against me but I growled for her to hold still. She froze in place and then whimpered a soft 'please.' I released my hold on the clamp.

The snapping jaw captured her nipple and a look of pain flooded her face. Her body bucked against the pain, so much rougher than her fingers or even mine. I grabbed the left nipple and twisted it viciously. Now I saw the fear, the pain in her face that I had sought. I opened the other clamp and applied it. Sara screamed this time. I brought my hands up to her tits and roughly grabbed them, squeezing the fullness, loving her struggles. Her hands moved up to push me away but I captured them both. I transferred both hands to my left hand, easily holding her tiny wrists. My right hand became tender, stroking the side of her breasts, then meandering down her satin tummy. Her hips were moving now, begging for my touch as I arrived at her cunt. I pushed my thumb and forefinger between her soft nether lips, searching for her pleasure button. She moaned as I discovered it, pushing her cunt up into my hand. I stroked it for awhile then moved lower, deeper between her wide-open thighs. I pushed a finger into her wet snatch and began softly frigging her.

Still holding her hands, I moved down to taste her sweet musk again. She shifted her legs, giving me better access as I put my mouth on her clit. Her pussy was spasming on my finger and I knew her orgasm was near. Her whimpering had become loud deep moans, mixed with indecipherable pleas for satisfaction.

I wanted her to cum not just from pleasure but also from pain, a gift from her loving Daddy. Not releasing her hands, I picked up the chain that linked the clamps on her nipples with my left hand. She was so involved in the frigging and lapping of her slut cunt; she didn't feel me pull it nearly taut. I increased the pressure of my mouth on her clit and was rewarded by a loud moan.

'Yes Daddy, I want to cum, Daddy, please.'

In answer to her plea, I sprang into motion. My teeth clamped down hard on her swollen clit as my left hand yanked down hard on the chain. Her nipples were suddenly and harshly extended several additional inches. Her anguished scream filled the air - a wounded animal's cry. I added another finger to her tight cunt and furiously fucked her tight little cunt. Her scream stopped as she took a breath I used the moment to slightly lessen the hold my teeth had on her clit and the pressure on her nipples.

Her second scream was one of completion. Her juices were forced from her cunt as she spasmed on my fingers. I continued to suck her clit, but removed my fingers from her cunt. I moved both hands to the shafts of the clamps. As she peaked again I released the pressure and joyously listened to another scream of pain. This time she came at the same time. I stopped sucking her clit and watched her body. She whimpered a bit, then she laid still. I arose from the end of the bed. I was pleased and surprised to find her sound asleep. I gently picked her up and carried her back to her bed.

As I lay in mine, shame washed over me. My only hope was that she was too drunk to remember it and if she did that it would seem like a dream. My cock still throbbed, but I wasn't going to give into it again. I rolled over, still smelling her cunt, her fluids, and her body and drifted off to sleep.