Becoming Daddy’s Good Girl 5: Good Girl Flogged

Becoming Daddy’s Good Girl
Chapter Five: Good Girl Flogged
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2016

I trembled as I rode beside Daddy in his truck. I squirmed, wearing only my terry cloth bathrobe, the pink cloth caressing my naked body beneath. I bit my lip, my stomach nervous. Today was the big day. Today I would prove to Daddy I was his good girl.

His submissive sex slave.

A week ago, he showed me a gold-chain choker with a unicorn charm dangling on it. We were at the mall with my BFF Sun. The two of us had remote control sex toys inside of us, a vibrator in my pussy and a butt plug in hers. Daddy promised me if I proved myself, he would give it to me. Make me his sex slave.

Then he wouldn’t need Mom at all. She could stay at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

I didn’t want to think about that. Two weeks were up of the three week trip. It was Saturday, and Mom, along with my bratty sister Alice, would return next Sunday. I had worked so hard this week, obeying Daddy in every way, servicing him with my nubile body. He had taken me so hard. He had fucked me and loved me and used me. All my holes were his.

Daddy knew every inch of my eighteen-year-old body.

And today, at the dungeon, I would show not only Daddy that I was his good girl, but other Master’s with their sex slaves. It was so kinky and bold. Daddy was showing me off, confident I wouldn’t embarrass him. And the prize…

My slave collar—a gold-chained choker.

So I was nervous. And excited. It was a strange sensation, one minute waves of heat rippled out of my pussy—freshly shaved this morning—and through the rest of my body. I would become so aware of my nipples rubbing against the terry cloth robe, tingling, aching, while I squirmed and rubbed my wet pussy into the cloth.

And then the next minute the nerves would hit me.

My stomach would bubble. I would shudder, panic welling inside of me. My heart fluttered. What if I messed up? What if I failed to submit? What if I embarrassed my daddy? What if someone called the police? Incest was illegal.

I had done so much with him. Last Saturday, I rode my daddy’s cock on a bench in the middle of the mall. And his dick wasn’t in my pussy, but my asshole. I squirmed and shuddered, fucking him while Sun provided a distraction for us. It was so risky.

I did that. I could do this.

“You’ll be fine,” Daddy said, giving me a smile.

He was so handsome. Today he wore a simple t-shirt stretched over his muscular chest and a pair of jeans. His cock bulged the front. He had a boring office job but you would never know it outside of work. He had tattoos covering his body like a dangerous biker and strong eyes.

People saw his gaze and obeyed him.

My mom had all my life. She was his sex slave, but he must have grown tired of her. That was why he trained me. I was younger, my barely legal cunt tighter. She had twins, my bratty sister and me. Her body was getting old. She couldn’t compete with me. I was the new model.

And that made me happy. I would have Daddy all to myself when I proved I was his sex slave.

The excitement returned. I bounced on the seat, my long braid swaying behind me, and glanced out the window at the passing cars and pedestrians. None of them knew my daddy was my Master and lover. None had any idea he had taken my cherry in a dressing room at the mall. That I woke him up every morning with a Blowjob and swallowed all of his cum like a good girl.

If they noticed us, they would just think a father with his daughter. How innocent. How cute.

A smile crossed my lips and my pussy burned hotter. I crossed my thighs beneath my robe, the itch squirming me. I wanted to masturbate right here and now. Daddy would get mad, not because I was masturbating in his truck—which I had before while we drove—but because he didn’t give me permission. I couldn’t do anything without his permission.

Especially cumming.

I was his submissive. I had to ask permission to go visit Sun or hang out at the mall while he was at work. If I wanted to buy a new tube of lipstick or see a movie, I had to ask. Of course, he said yes usually. Daddy like to dote on me and reward me. I was still his little princess.

He just got to fuck me. It was the way the world worked. All Daddy’s should be able to fuck their daughters.

Daddy turned off the main street and soon we were in a residential area. I craned my neck. I had never been to this part of town. The houses grew expensive, large, imposing, with huge swaths of grass and bushes tended to by gardeners. At the end of the street, a large, black gate rose surrounded by high, gray stone walls. Ivy curled along the top, the green splashing color across the gray.

We were here.

There was a small call box. To use it, Daddy had to open his truck door and bend low to use—it was sized for cars. He punched in a few numbers and the pound sign. The pad beeped and then the gate lumbered to the right, rinding open and revealing a large yard. A half-dozen cars crowded the driveway at the end.

The other guests.

My nervousness returned as Daddy drove up the driveway. I bit my lip, staring at the large house. The owner must be rich. According to Daddy, he had a huge, private dungeon where certain activities—like sex—were not frowned upon. Daddy reached the end and parked behind a green sedan. He put the truck into gear and then climbed out.

I swallowed and pulled the handle. I stepped out and landed on the ground in my flip-flops, my robe swirling about my legs. He grabbed his duffel bag—holding his toys, the collection of BDSM gear from the house—and slung it over his shoulder with ease.

I moved to his side, taking his hand. He gave me a fatherly smile, stern but reassuring. “It will be okay. You’ll do amazing. I believe in you.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” I said, my voice a whisper.

I wanted to drag my feet as we approached the door. Today, people other than Daddy and Sun would see me naked. They would touch me, spank me, and even fuck me. Today was my coming out party. If I passed, I would be his sex slave.

And I would pass. I would be his good girl. I wanted nothing more than that in the entire world. I stepped onto the porch, my flip-flops smacking the soles of my shoes, and reached out, pressing the doorbell.

Daddy gave my hand a squeeze.

The slap of bare feet approached. The door opened and a woman knelt, naked, in her earlier thirties, her body tone and fit. A black corset wrapped about her stomach and lifted a pair of ripe breasts into two lush mounds. Silver rings pierced her fat nipples. Her black hair, long and flowing, spread across the floor. On her lower back, there was a tattoo—Master’s Cunt.

“Welcome, Master Mark,” the woman purred. “You and your slave are welcomed into my Master’s house. Do you need anything? Refreshments?”

“We’re fine, Lizzie,” Daddy said, hardly sparing the submissive woman a glance as he led me past her.

I stared at her ass, my head swiveling to look behind me, my eyes locked on her. I spotted her pussy, shaved, a silver ring pierced her clit, a charm dangling from it. I swallowed. She was beautiful. She was what I wanted to be for Daddy.

Daddy paused at a door, and opened it, revealing a small half-bathroom. He glanced at me. I blushed and shrugged out of my bath robe while he swept in to change into his BDSM gear. I stood naked, my nipples hard.

“Are you excited?” the submissive asked, walking over to me, her charm, dangling from her clit, swayed between her thighs and caught the light.

I nodded my head.

“It’s Melody, right?”

I nodded my head again as her eyes ran up and down my body.

Her smile grew. “Oh, you’re going to be popular. Ripe and young. And so fresh. No ink. No piercings. Your daddy hasn’t marked you.”

“Yet,” he said through the door.

I squirmed more, my toes flexing against the hardwood floor. I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay to be a little shy,” Lizzie whispered. “No one down there’s going to harm you, just hurt you. And you like being hurt, don’t you?”

I nodded my head, remembering the times Daddy clamped my nipples and flogged my back. Pain and pleasure were linked.

“So do I.”

She kept trying to get me to open up as we waited. Daddy finally emerged, wearing leather chaps and a vest, his cock thrusting hard before him, his body so muscular and strong. Beneath the vest, part of his barbwire tattoo was visible. Flames burned up his arms, forever frozen in ink.

He took a hold of my braid and walked, using it as a leash as I padded along beside him. Lizzie followed us. My breathing quickened as we reached the stairs. Loud, dark music thudded up it. Soft, blue and violet lights spilled out of the darkness. Shadows moved. People were down there.

Daddy marched down without any fear. I had to follow. He had a firm grip on my braid. The stairs were wooden, cold. I trembled worse. What was going to happen down there? Could I handle being touched and fondled by strange men?

But Daddy wanted me to be touched.

The stairs led into a large room.