Chapter 5: Good Girl Flogged

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 fourteen-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 and I was underage.

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 underage 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 with underage girls—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. Lights on the ceiling flooded soft blues, violets, greens, and reds across the dungeon, each illuminating different type of toys. Ropes hung from one station, the next had a St. Andrews Cross, then a spanking bench, massage tables, and others just had manacles hanging from the walls. Men and women, dressed in various leathers that left them half-naked, sat in chairs or move through the room. The women all had collars or chokers about their necks, head lowered. Some of the sex slaves were as young as me, others older, mothers with their daughters.

I swallowed, my mouth growing dry as I was led into the center. People looked at us. Men nodded to Daddy, calling out, “Master Mark.” He nodded back, addressing them as “Master so-and-so.” I was too nervous to remember names.

One man, tall, broad-shouldered and skin ebony dark used his slave, a girl my age, as his foot rest, his leather boots propped on her back as she knelt before him. An older woman had a magic wand vibrator taped to her thigh and pressed against her pussy humming away. She squirmed and moaned, struggling to stay kneeling and quiet before her Master. Another woman knelt before her master, sucking on his cock. Not hard, like she was trying to make him cum, just enough to give him pleasure. A girl in a pink teddy, with pink cuffs about her wrists connected by a gold chain, perched on her Master’s lap. Another good girl for her daddy.

They all stared at me, the men’s eyes hungry, devouring my youthful body. Lizzie went to a man and knelt beside his chair. He rested his hand over the top of her hair, like he would with a dog, and she smiled, enjoying the touch.

The man rose, his cock pierced by a gold ring in the tip. He walked forward naked, covered in tattoos, his body strong. He stopped before me. I couldn’t help staring at his dick. His hand reached out, cupping my chin and lifting my gaze.

“Master Mark has brought his new girl to play,” the man said. “Melody wants to be a good girl for her Daddy. She wants to work hard. She is free to be touched and groped and fucked, but you can’t cum in her holes, only on her body. Her daddy wants her covered in spunk. Dirtied.”

He did?

I trembled as the dick throbbed so hard before me. What would it be like to feel a dick pierced with a ring fucking me? Daddy wanted me to be used by these men, so it was okay for me to lust after them. To enjoy what would happen today.

“Let’s all welcome Melody,” the man said, bending down, his lips nearing mine, “before the slut’s a complete mess.”

My pussy clenched. I was a slut. Daddy’s slut. Then the man kissed me. I froze, shocked, his lips strong. A trickle of juices dripped down my thighs, my body shuddering. All these eyes on me, men and women both.

And then the man broke the kiss and other men had stood up, moving to me, crowding around me. They said their names, but they came at me from every direction. Men seized my face, kissing me hard, thrusting their tongues into my mouth while groping my body. My nipples were pinched hard by rough fingers. My ass groped. My pussy rubbed, fingers coming away wet. I trembled and sighed, my heart beating faster and faster as these strange men touched my body.

And Daddy watched, his arms folded, his eyes hungry. He was there if I grew scared. If I wanted to blurt out my safe word—red light—and end the entire event. But I wouldn’t. I would prove to him that I was his slave.

The final Master to kiss me was the Black man, his hard dick rubbing into my stomach. His White slave girl, kneeling at his side, kissed and nuzzled at my hip, stroking my leg as her master devoured my mouth. I trembled, his ebony hands stroking me, arousing me. His dick was thick.

Then he released me. I swayed, breathing hard, my body flushed. So far, this wasn’t so bad. I could handle being kissed and touched by other men. It would make Daddy so happy. He came to me, seizing my hair again, a pleased smile on his lips.

And then Daddy led me to the St. Andrew’s Cross. It was shaped like an X, manacles falling from the top, others at the bottom. Boots thudded behind me. The other masters moved their chairs, forming a half-circle to watch as Daddy seized my arm and lifted my wrist to the first manacle.

I trembled, facing away from the crowd, but so aware of them watching.

I heard wet sucking as slaves pleased their masters. A woman let out a wet, wanton moan. Flesh slapped together. I trembled, my body growing wetter and wetter as Daddy seized my other wrist and lifted my arm up. The manacle, really a leather cuff, was cinched about my wrist.

“You ready, honey?” Daddy whispered, pressing against me.

“Yes, Daddy,” I moaned back.

Daddy bent down and jerked my right ankle to the foot restraint, cinching it tight. I felt open now, my shaved pussy on display. He moved the other one, finishing the X. I swallowed, looking over my shoulders.

“Look at the slut drip,” a man boomed. “She’s eager to be flogged.”

“She’s a good girl,” a giggly voice said. “She wants to make her Daddy happy.”

“Mmm, yes, she does,” groaned a man. “That ass was made to be flogged. Look at how round it is.”

“Beautiful.”

“She’s wiggling her hips. The little slut’s eager. Mark lucked out having such a hot cunt for a daughter. Just like her mom.”

They knew my mom? Did that mean she had been in this dungeon? Had she fucked other men while Daddy watched? Had she been chained to this very St. Andrew’s Cross and flogged for the amusement of the others?

She had. And now I was her replacement. Younger, sexier, hotter. I wiggled my hips, drinking in their sensation while Daddy opened up his duffel bag to pull out his toys. He had more than a few floggers, some beautiful others homemade by himself. Then he sat aside acrylic canes, thin and flexible. Last a wooden paddle with holes drilled through its broad surface so it could swing faster and smack harder.

“Whip that ass, Mark,” a guy groaned.

Daddy grabbed his moose-leather flogger, the tails thick. It made wonderful, thuddy smacks when it hit. He stood behind me and threw my braid over my shoulder, getting it out of the way. He swung the flail. It swished through the air. I could feel the air brushing my body, the ends almost caressing me, teasing me.

I wiggled, wanting to feel the sting. I was so excited. All these sexy men and hot women watching me, lusting after me. I was the cutest girl here. Daddy had to be so proud of me.

The first slap of the flail struck my shoulder, just the tip, grazing me. I groaned as Daddy swung it in an X pattern. It hit my other shoulder with more of the tail, a thudding smack echoed. Burning warmth radiated out of my back.

He moved in closer, more and more of the flail hitting me. Loud thuds and thwacks echoed as he worked my shoulders and back. I swayed and pulled against my restrains as the warmth built to burning pain.

“Daddy,” I moaned, squirming.

“Look at that ass wiggle. She wants to be spanked there.”

“When she’s ready,” Daddy said.

The flail kept landing. It was wonderful. The pain somehow became pleasure. I swayed, sucking in breaths, my pussy growing more and more excited. Juices trickled down my thighs as I squirmed. I bit my lip, the endorphins building, spreading rapture through my mind as the flail thudded harder.

And then it changed directions, slapping upward now, striking the base of my butt-cheeks and dragging up my ass to my lower back. I gasped at the thudding impact. I lurched forward, pressing my round breasts into the cold metal of the cross.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He picked up the pass, flogging my ass. The pain swelled. And with my legs spread wide, sometimes a lash smacked my wet pussy. I gasped “Daddy” each time, bucking, my ass clenching at the flare of pain transformed into pleasure.

“Oh, yes, Daddy.”

“Do you love it, slut?” he growled, flailing harder, my ass burning.

“So much, Daddy,” I moaned. “You know I do. You know I love it when you lash me. Oh, yes.”

“Listen to her sing,” a slave purred, thick with lust and envy.

“Like a canary.”

The flail kept hitting my pussy. My clit ached. Daddy was teasing me now on purpose, guiding the flail to strike between my legs. I sucked in breaths each time. My breasts bounced as I swayed. My braid pressed between them.

“Daddy, can I cum?” I moaned as he smacked my pussy again.

“I don’t know, slut, can you?” The flail smacked my pussy again, my lips aching.

I shuddered, fighting my orgasm. “May I cum, Daddy?”

“You may cum as much as you want today.”

The flail cracked on my pussy.

I gasped and came. I twitched as my punishmentgasm roared through me. My head snapped back. The flail kept kissing my ass as I trembled and undulated, the burning heat keeping the pleasure rippling through me.