Dear Diary 1977 : Homecoming - Vol 2
Copyright© 2026 by Emily Wendling
Chapter 9
Fiction Story: Chapter 9 - My eyes watered, tears mixing with the drool, streaming down my face as I was face fucked into oblivion, the sound of my gagging and screaming the only music in the dark room. The assault was so intense, so overwhelming, that my body began to rebel. It was not just saliva. It was a physical expulsion of fluids triggered by the sheer thickness of the intrusion. I gagged, a convulsive heave that had no escape route, and it came out in a thick, clear stream of mucus.
Caution: This Fiction Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa NonConsensual Rape Reluctant Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Paranormal Incest Father Daughter BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Rough Sadistic Spanking Torture White Male White Female Anal Sex Oral Sex Voyeurism
Rudy stepped up behind Kristy, his bare feet silent on the cold floor as he positioned himself directly behind her terrified body. He reached out, his large hands gripping the soft, vulnerable flesh of her buttocks, his fingers sinking deep into the yielding rear. He tilted her hips upward, forcing her to arch her back. With a cruel flick of his wrist, he pulled her cheeks apart, exposing her glistening, pink anus and the swollen, trembling lips of her sex to the air, his eyes devouring the sight of her exposed, defenseless body.
He drew his arm back, the leather strap of the belt elongating in the air as he snarled, his face a mask of sadistic cruelty. He hissed through clenched white teeth, the sound wet and sharp, before bringing the belt down with a ferocious crack. It slammed hard and loudly against Kristy’s buns, the leather belt digging into the tender, trembling buttocks with a sickening thud. The force of the blow stunned Kristy, sending a jolt of agony up her spine, the sharp sting of the cut blooming instantly into a deep, throbbing welt. Her body convulsed, a strangled yelp tearing from her throat as the leather bit into her skin, leaving a bright red line of agony amidst the welts already etched there.
Kristy Blair’s eyes flew wide open, the whites flashing in stark contrast to her tear streaked face as a raw, agonized scream tore from her throat, shattering the heavy silence. She twisted violently at the waist, jerking her hips desperately to the side to escape the sting of the leather, but her father was relentless. He hauled the belt back again, the air whistling as he swung it down upon her left flank. The leather belt caught the soft, pale skin hard, digging in deep as the leather snapped tight against her muscle. Kristy thrashed, her body writhing as the searing pain radiated outward, making her sweat pour down her face in rivulets.
Jennifer continued to punish her own vagina with a frenzy, her hips bucking wildly against her open palm, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Her eyes remained fixed on the brutal scene, yet her mind was drifting, lost in a haze of ecstasy that felt like miles away from the terror unfolding right before her. Kristy pupils were wide with terror, her lips parting as she screamed, a raw, piercing sound that begged for her father to stop.
Jennifer Meininger established a rhythm, her finger plunging in and out in time with the rhythm of Rudy’s renewed assault on Kristy. Each strike on Kristy’s buttocks was met with a deep, forceful thrust of Jennifer’s finger. Her right hand continued its frantic work on her clit, rubbing in hard, fast circles that were driving her rapidly toward the edge. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps now, her chest heaving. The splintery wood of the stairs dug into her buttocks, a grounding point of pain that only heightened the pleasure.
Her eyes were wide, unblinking, drinking in every detail. She saw the way Kristy’s muscles strained in her back and legs, the way her fingers, trapped in the stocks, clenched into white knuckled fists. She saw the glistening of tears and sweat on Kristy’s skin, the red, matted hair that clung to her face. And she saw Rudy, his face a mask of brutal concentration, his body a machine of violence. It was all so beautiful, so perfect.
Jennifer Meininger added a second finger, then a third. She stretched herself, filling herself completely. The feeling of fullness was exquisite, a deep, satisfying pressure that built and built. Her hips were rocking now, a desperate, involuntary motion, fucking her own hand as she stared ravenously at the scene. Her juices coated her fingers, a thick, slick sheen that ran down her wrist.
The smell of her own arousal, sharp and musky, mingled with the smells from the basement, creating a heady, intoxicating cocktail. She was no longer just pleasuring herself. She was punishing herself, her fingers plunging and rubbing with a violent urgency that matched the violence of the scene before her. She wanted to feel what Kristy was feeling, to translate her friend’s pain into her own brutal ecstasy.
Rudy hauled the belt for another strike, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. He brought the leather down hard against Kristy’s damaged buttocks, the leather digging deep into the raw, throbbing flesh. The belt snapped tight against the skin, the cruel impact sending shock waves of pure agony radiating through her middle. Kristy let out a ragged, guttural scream, her body jerking violently as the burning pain flared bright, her muscles seizing up as the belt bit into her defenseless body, leaving a deep, bleeding welt in its wake.
Rudy’s body was soon slick with heavy perspiration, his chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged, hot pants. He continued to whip Kristy’s buttocks, the leather strap whistling through the air with a rhythmic, cruel cadence. The skin of her backside was now a ragged map of welts and lacerations, the leather snapping against the raw, tender flesh with a sickening, wet slap.
Sweat dripped from his brow, blurring his vision, but he did not pause, his arm growing weary from the relentless, violent exertion, though his sadistic grin remained fixed on his face. Kristy Blair let out a heart wrenching wail, her face twisted in despair as the leather bit into her already ravaged skin. Her voice cracked, trembling with a desperate, pathetic plea as she looked up at the monster holding the belt.
“Father! Please! Dad, stop it! It hurts too much! Please, please, don’t hurt me anymore!” She begged.
Rudy tossed the belt aside with a careless touch, his bare feet moving silently across the floor as he flexed his aching fingers. He strode purposefully across the room to the wall lined with shelves. His hand delved into a box, retrieving a large, cylindrical red candle and a small box of wooden matches. With a sharp hiss of the striker, he struck a match, the flame catching the air as he lit the wick. The candle burned merrily, casting a warm, dancing glow over the gruesome tableau, casting long, stark shadows across the terrified girl.
Rudy’s bare feet moved with a slow, predatory grace across the floor. He approached Kristy, who was panting and sobbing, her body trembling with exhaustion and pain. He held the candle out in front of him, the flickering flame casting eerie, dancing shadows across his sensual features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the cruel glint in his eyes. A diabolical smile again creased his face, widening as he watched her struggle to breathe, the light illuminating the dark, sadistic desire lurking behind his gaze.
Rudy’s eyes burned with a dark, sadistic intent as he slowly tilted the candle toward Kristy, the flame flickering violently in the sudden draft. A sharp hiss of air escaped him as the wax pooled at the wick’s base, preparing to spill. With a cruel, deliberate motion, he tilted the vessel further, and suddenly, a thick stream of hot, molten wax began to pour from the spout. It arced through the air, landing squarely across one of Kristy’s helpless and aching buttocks. The searing liquid hissed as it made contact, scalding the sensitive skin instantly. Kristy screamed, her body jerking as the wax solidified and clung to her flesh, the heat radiating deep into the muscle, the droplets running down the curve of her hip in a molten river of agony.
His gaze was fixed on the damage he had wrought, his face a portrait of calm sadism. He slowly manipulated the candle, tilting it a fraction more, allowing a fresh globule of the heated, molten wax to splash heavily onto the raw, stinging skin. The hot liquid splattered with a wet, sickening sound, pooling into the crevices of the welts and cutting into the tender flesh. Kristy wailed in agony, a high pitched, broken sound that echoed off the walls, her body bucking against the pain, her skin blistering and reddening under the relentless heat as the wax hardened and trapped the burning sensation against her.
He put the candle away. Rudy then reached down with his right hand, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He gave it a tight, rough squeeze, his knuckles whitening as he grounded his palm. It was a vulgar display of his arousal, a wet, slapping sound filling the air as he pumped his hand once, twice, against his own shaft. Then, his left hand flew forward, palm striking outward.
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