Daddy’s Brainwashed Slut: Aural Seduction
Chapter One
I scooped a saucepan out of the suds of the kitchen sink, water pretty hot even through my bright yellow latex gloves. I didn’t mind, though: it was hard to be down about anything with the bouncy club music piping through my ear buds. I bopped my head happily as I scrubbed its non-stick surface, humming along to the lively beat.
A moment later, a hand came out of nowhere, cupping my bare bottom. I let out a startled cry and dropped the dish back into the water, suds splashing down my front. My apron got most of it, but foam splattered the creamy skin of my bare legs.
I pulled out one earbud and groaned, “I thought you were gonna watch the game, not interrupt my chores.”
My stepdad Karl leaned in close and breathed in my ear, “Just needed to check discipline. You know the rules.” His was steamy, sending a tickling thrill down my spine.
I shivered and whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”
He reached around and cupped my left breast through my soaked apron, squeezing it firmly. He said, “Recite the one about chores.”
Leaning into his touch, I recited obediently, “A good girl performs her chores without allowing herself to be distracted. If I let myself be disturbed while I’m working, I’ve been naughty.”
“That’s right,” he reached between my legs with his free hand and stroked the inside of my thigh, sending tingling sensations down my legs. He added, “What’s the rule for naughty girls, Cupcake?”
The nickname made me snap to attention, the rest of the world so much less important than what he had to say. I leaned forward and braced against the sink with both hands, spreading my legs a little. Then I replied, voice barely over a whisper, “Naughty girls get sent to bed without cumming, Sir. But…” I trailed off, cheeks going red as I realized I’d just spoken out of turn.
“But what?” his voice was low.
I bit my lip and shook my head meekly.
He tweaked my nipple, sending a little thrill of pleasure and pain through me. Then he commanded, “Speak.”
I knew better than to disobey. I half turned my head so I could try batting my eyelashes and pleaded, “I was really looking forward to play time tonight, Daddy. Please, give me another chance to show you what a good girl I can be?”
He slipped a cool, hard finger all the way up to my slit and rubbed it lightly for a moment, maybe thinking it over, maybe just wanting me to sweat. Finally, he said, “I’ll give you another chance.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I wriggled a little, wanting to grind against his hand without being too obvious about it.
“Less talking, more scrubbing,” he replied, “Go back to your music and finish the dishes. If you can manage it without dropping another one—no matter what I do—I’ll be very happy with you.”
“Yessir!” I popped the earbud back in my ear and let the music wash over me again. I wore them almost nonstop, unless someone needed my attention. I even slept with them.
It cleared my head a little, like it always did. Gamely, I reached into the water and got the saucepan back out to finish. The good news was, there wasn’t a lot left to do.
The bad news was that it was all glass. I hoped he wouldn’t play too rough.
For a long moment, Daddy simply stood behind me, fondling my sudsy breast and rubbing his fingers around my nether lips.
He waited until I had the crystal in my hands, then he slipped two fingers inside me, penetrating me lightly. He began to make slow thrusts inside me, pressing his stiff fingers against my inner walls. At the end of each thrust, he worked his hand from side to side, grinding inside me.
I managed to hold onto the hand blown crystal glass in my hands, barely. I concentrated on meticulously scrubbing every inch of its shiny surface, trying not to pay attention either to him, or my own ragged breathing.
He pulled his hand away as I moved to set the glass on the dish rack. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.
I reached for the last piece of crystal, and he smacked my ass, his fingers still damp from my pussy. It set my heart racing.
Something in my brain clicked: good girls bent forward when they were spanked, allowing better access to their asses. It took an enormous act of will to keep from bending over the sink and letting him finish.
Instead, I took a deep breath and went back to scrubbing the glass.
When two parts of my training conflicted, I knew to listen to what I’d just been told instead of letting instinct take over.
He offered my backside three more sharp strokes, the palm of his hand smacking against my cheeks. I could picture the red marks he’d be leaving… but I managed to keep from assuming the position or dropping anything.
I set the last glass on the dish rack, then leaned heavily against the counter to catch my breath.
Daddy didn’t seem to want to give me the chance. He grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around bodily, pushing my body against the edge of the sink. I gasped, but before I could react he grabbed my hair and tugged me into a wet, open mouthed kiss.
I leaned into it, feeling my heart pound in my chest. I could hardly breathe.
He reached up and negligently flicked the left strap of my apron off, then the right, letting it drop to the ground around my feet. I wasn’t wearing much else: just the latex gloves, my ever-present music player and a pair of sandals.
He reached down and tapped the volume control on my music player. The cheerful club beat was replaced by something slow and sensual. Then he turned it down and said, over the new song, “Nice job with the dishes. Phrenic abstergent. Kneel.”
I didn’t know what those words were supposed to mean in the dictionary, but I knew what they meant to me. They were our little codeword. I slid gracefully to my knees on the cool tile floor, legs spread and arms folded behind my back. I bowed my head and waited, breathing heavily.
After a long moment, I watched his jeans drop around his ankles. Daddy had nice legs: he liked to hit the gym a few times a week, and it showed. His boxers followed a moment later. He was already semi-hard, a little droplet of moisture at the tip. He began to stroke it in front of my face, stroking and squeezing to get himself properly hard.
My breath caught in my throat. I wanted it in my mouth, but I hadn’t been told to do anything yet, so I just stared, trying to drink in every detail.
I dreamed about that cock most nights.
Finally, he stopped stroking himself and stepped a little closer, the tip of his now fully erect cock brushing against my cheek. He twined his fingers possessively in my golden tresses and said firmly, “Suck me.”
I nearly dove on him, wrapping my lips around his dick and taking him as deeply into my mouth as I could. It was a personal challenge, trying to see what I could do without gagging. I ran my tongue along the bottom of thick shaft, teasing him mercilessly.
His body stiffened a little at the attention, and his fingers tightened in my hair. I could feel his pulse quicken from the way he throbbed.
After a long moment like that, he tugged gently at my hair, guiding my head up and down in a slow and steady rhythm. I let him, savoring the sensation as I languidly bobbed up and down. I wanted to touch myself while I worked, but I couldn’t do anything but focus on his pleasure.
Daddy took a long time to get close, but eventually my efforts were rewarded. I felt him tense in my mouth, and he guided my head back. I closed my eyes as he came.
It had taken a while to learn to swallow, but it felt like second nature now.
He patted the top of my head and said, “That’s better. Agrypnia.”
I blinked, suddenly aware of the discomfort I felt kneeling on the hard kitchen floor, the way having been splattered with water was making me chilly. I pulled back and away, hoping he would tell me I could get up soon.
Daddy reached down and pulled up his pants. As he fastened his fly, he said, “Go ahead and get dinner ready, Cupcake.”
I smiled and said, “Yes, Daddy.”
“Oh, and,” he added, offhand, “Good girl.”
My pussy clenched at the praise. I nearly moaned, “Mmm… Thank you, Daddy.”