Chained to a chair in her basement, 19 year old Honey recounts the tale of how she lusted after her step-father, Dave, and how, ultimately, she learned to be "Daddy's Pet". More
Chained to a chair in her basement, 19 year old Honey recounts the tale of how she lusted after her step-father, Dave, and how, ultimately, she learned to be "Daddy's Pet".
"Daddy's Pet" is approximately 6,300 words long -- perfect for your iPhone or other mobile eReader! Take a naughty little fantasy with you wherever you go!
"Daddy's Pet" contains graphic and explicit depictions of sex, and is not intended for minors -- or the faint of heart!
I heard the door open and close sometime later, and I straightened my back. My knees were together, and my hands rested on them, palm down. I hitched a smile onto my face, waiting on Daddy to open the door. If I was being honest with myself, I missed him. But I had to remind myself that I couldn't get up and run to him. It was the first rule: no movements without permission. If I broke that rule -- or any others -- I would be punished.
Hours passed. Then the microwave kicked on. It ran for a while, then the television kicked on, too. The microwave dinged, and I was left sitting attentively, wondering when Daddy would come up stairs. The only clue I would have to his approach was his footsteps on the stairs.
But it would be enough. I relaxed, leaning forward a little. My back hurt from sitting up so straight. My knees hurt from kneeling all day, and my mind was torn between a mixture of fear and anticipation. What would he do to me? How long would it last? Would I like it? Would it hurt?
Too many questions, and no answers to any of them until Daddy decided to come up stairs.
I sat there, anxious, fighting the urge to take my clothes off. For some reason I was hot, and besides, I thought Daddy would enjoy coming upstairs and finding me naked and kneeling at his feet. The only thing that stopped me was that I wasn't told to be naked. He only told me to go to my room and stay there. I was pushing things, technically, by kneeling on the floor. For all I knew, he meant for me to stand.
As soon as that thought hit me, I stood, straightening the wrinkles out of my clothes with my hands. After a couple of minutes, I knelt again, not wanting Daddy to come home and find me standing, like I thought I was his equal. I wasn't. I was his pet. His slave. His toy.