Chapter 5

My daughter had finished doing her hair and was getting ready for work when I checked on her. She had applied her make-up carefully. She was wearing the orange tights and the white half-top that Hooters girls wear.

“What are their dress standards?” I asked as I watched her. I found it sexy to watch a woman apply make-up. They seemed so obsessed with painting their faces.

“I have to have clean nails, no visible tattoos,” She said.

“You have tattoos?”

“No, but you asked what the standards are. No white bras, waitresses must wear a tan or black bra with a white shirt,” she admitted. That was surprising. I guess forbidding her to wear a bra to a titty restaurant was completely out of the question.

“This ridiculous hose is required, sneakers are okay,” she said. “Make up and hair must be done perfectly when you walk in.”

I couldn’t see her pussy or her butt crack in the hose she had on. She said they were industrial “Peavy” brand designed to be worn all day and supportive. “They don’t stop butt pinches, and they are hot and sweaty,” she groaned.

“Great, you can wear that to the grocery store and I’ll drop you off at Hooters,” I said. She started to put her shorts on and I told her that she could wait.

“Go outside in just my hose?”

The flesh-colored hose looked almost nude from a distance. Once up close you could tell she had them on. She had that trade mark Hooters half-shirt and there was no question she was in a Hooters uniform – just without the orange shorts.

“Yep, if anyone asks you can tell them you forgot your shorts, and I had to go get them, and you are being punished.”

She didn’t argue. She looked surprised and perhaps a little nervous. “I hope nobody from work sees me like this,” she said.

“Having second thoughts, slut?”

“About forgetting my shorts? No, I am a forgetful little fussbucket. You are right, Daddy,” she admitted playfully.

We both agreed to basically pretend that she forgot her shorts and that’s why she was being punished this way. It was strangely surreal. I told her to walk slowly to the truck and carry her orange shorts in her mouth.

She let them hang out of her mouth as she got in my vehicle and I started it up. “You can’t finger fuck yourself because of the hose. I guess you’ll have to think about all the anticipation until later tonight,” I smiled at her knowingly.

“I shouldn’t have told you everything that turns my screws,” she sighed.

“If this is going to have any positive impact on you then you have to tell me EVERYTHING that does. It’s just like visiting a doctor. It doesn’t do any good to leave out some of your symptoms. You’ll get the wrong diagnosis and the wrong treatment.”

“Fine, then I really enjoyed it when you made me crawl around like a dog. It was dehumanizing and humiliating and I almost orgasmed when you told me I had to do it.”

“Good, bark for me,” I reached over and pat her on the head.

“Woof,” she groaned a little and blushed.

“Better. Bark again,” I insisted. “You are a bitch, and that’s a dog so it make sense.”

“I also like how you caught that I waited until 8:59 to text. I like it when you bust me for little things and criticize them. I was up a little earlier but I waited because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about yesterday. I was afraid that you’d tell me that I was too much hassle and this was disgusting and we had to stop.”

“First of all, it’s not a “little thing” that you do the bare minimum or wait until the last minute, it’s a fucking pattern. Second of all, I committed to this and so do you, so there is no second thoughts. I can’t spend my entire day amusing you and letting you live out your doggy fantasies, you dumb cunt. I need you to learn something from this punishment without making me repeat these lessons constantly.”

“Yes Daddy, sorry!”

“Don’t say Sorry unless you mean it either. You throw that word around all the time. I do not think you are really sorry. You’ll have to SHOW me you are by putting your entire effort into behaving when you aren’t under tight scrutiny and punishment. Got it?”

“So if we do this only a few hours a day, I still have to ask permission to go pee?”

“Yeah, Cow, and you you have to ask permission to spend a dime. That’s all the time.”

“How do I know which rules are all the time, and which aren’t?”

“All the rules we have right now are all the time, but I will only get to treat you like the piggy slut that you are when we have time like this together. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” If I didn’t know better I would have said that Heather swooned.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“It’s shaping up to be more than I could have asked for,” she admitted. I was flattered but I still had my doubts that I could continue being this strict with my daughter. This were very sexual overtones and I was turned on by what we did. She was as well.

I saw a benefit in her changed attitude and at this point, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that her wish to be punished would result in a positive outcome. As long as I was the one to do it then I could be certain that she’d be safe. No one would abduct her or take things to far.

We pulled into the grocery store parking lot. It was busy. “Get out whore, leave the shorts in the truck,” I insisted.

From a distance, she looked like a girl in sneakers and a white hooters shirt that was completely bottomless. I could tell right away from the looks and stares that she was getting that even up close you had to give her a double take to realize she was in hose.

My daughter’s orange panyhose were basically just flesh colored leggings. In this day and age, tight-fighting, curve hugging leggings are pervasive and don’t raise too many eyebrows. I am thankful to whatever pervert convinced women it was normal to wear them in public. I love looking at a tight ass packed into a pair of leggings that show off a woman’s features.

I thought my daughter would panic, or blush as we shopped. Instead, she acted perfectly normal and even seemed flattered for the attention. Clearly, I had underestimated the impact of wearing the leggings on humiliating her.

I wasn’t quite ready to make her do something over the top like slip a cucumber in her snatch in the produce section. I didn’t want to get us kicked out of the grocery store and there were kids there too. I wanted to mindful of others.

I only mention this because I was testing her boundaries and limits. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was testing my own as well. I found out that my daughter had a high tolerance to being paraded around in public as an object of ridicule. It was fun, but it didn’t freak her out and that was what I had hoped to do.

The silver lining was that after I finished doing the shopping I saw a Party City. I had an idea. “Put the groceries in the truck and then hustle your ass back to Party City,” I insisted and gave her the keys to the truck.

They sold costumes and party favors. I made a bee-line for the sexy adult costumes in the back. My daughter joined me just as I picked out a sexy black french maid costume complete with puffy white lace at the bottom of the short skirt.

“Daddy, I really have to get to work on time,” she reminded me that it was getting close for to the time she had to report to work.

“I thought you liked to cut it close, slut! Don’t worry, I will get you there on time,” I sized up the maid costume. “Try it on,” I said.

“Where is the dressing room?”

“Just put it on over your clothes,” I insisted she change into it right there. The store wasn’t busy, but we were being watched by a young guy about my daughter’s age at the register.

He came over and offered assistance.

“It’s missing something,” I asked him what he might suggest.

He offered some makeup, hats, and a purse.

I happened to notice a silicon pig-nose on a shelf. “Here slip this on,” I told my daughter. She put the pig nose on and grinned.

“Oink for us,” I told her. She snorted and I could tell she had started to blush.

“Perfect! You look like the pig that you are,” I decided she’d wear the outfit and the nose out of the store after I paid for it.

“Aren’t you Heather McGifford? We used to go to high school together,” he recognized her. She didn’t recognize him. Heather looked alarmed but when he mentioned the high school she went to I knew he knew her. He reminded her that his name was Pete.

“Was my daughter nice to you back in high school?” I asked.

“We ran in different circles, so we uh, never spoke.”

“Did you want to talk to her back then?”

“I mean, yeah, but uh, like I wasn’t the most popular kid.”

“My daughter is actually being punished because she was such a brat to everyone she’s ever known, among other things. Tell me the truth, was she ever rude to you?”

“No, never rude,” he admitted.

“She just never spoke to you,” I nodded knowingly and looked at my silent daughter. She had been standing there listening and probably trying to place who this kid was.

“It won’t make up for her rude behavior, but could she suck your cock real fast?”

“What? Uh ... really?”

“Yeah, you can give us your number and we can arrange a little more, but knowing she ignored you in high school really bothers me. I am trying to teach her to be more considerate and it’s obvious that she was rude to ignore and forget you.”

He was unsure of what to say, perhaps intimidated by my daughter. I could tell he needed a little more encouragement.

“Heather loves to eat jizz. Don’t you Heather?

“I really do,” she blushed as she made the admission. She looked down and then flicked her eyes up almost hopeful that he’d let her make it up to him. I could tell she WANTED to go down on him. I’d never seen such an eager cock sucker except in pornos and those girls are paid to act like that.

“You’d be doing me a big favor, and it may be a little payback for years of ignoring you. I won’t watch. I’ll turn my back and she can just go down on you right here or some place more private,” I said.

The clerk looked around and saw that no one else was in the store. He hustled her into the dressing room.

“One last thing, when you get ready to cum do you mind spooging all over her face? She loves the taste of warm cum in her belly, and I am trying to teach her a lesson,” I smiled.

The kid was really taking a chance leaving me in the store unsupervised. It’s a low paying job, and the promise of a BJ that is a sure thing from what may have been his high school crush was a bit hard to resist. I wasn’t planning on taking anything.

He was in and out. My daughter’s face was nicely glazed with hot jizz on her nose, and around her lips. She licked a little with her fingers.

“Don’t eat it. You’ll wear that to work.”

“Daddy, what will I say if anyone asks?”

“A bird must have shit on your face. You can clean it off and eat it when you get there. Cum is healthy, Hooters wings are not,” I smiled. I told her to thank the boy, and made sure to get his number and name and hustled her out. We were walking out as a matronly woman in her fifties was walking in.

She saw the light glazing on my daughter’s face and did a double take. We were out the door before she could say a word about it.

“That grocery store was a 2, but fuck ... that was like an 8. The thing is, I do remember him. His name is Andrew and he and his buddies used to ogle my friends and me at lunch. I had no idea he had a thing for me.”

“Would you have blown him in school?”

“I really didn’t know that I loved sucking cock back then. I think Rick opened me up to it. I know I am not supposed to be so horny, but I just want to sit on eight dicks after that. It was so embarrassing! I really was kind of a mean girl in school. I didn’t even realize it at the time. The way you offered my mouth to him like it was a consolation prize, and called me a jizz eater, wow. Are you sure you have never done anything like this before?”