Warning: contains consensual non-consent and dubious consent. Also goes much further than a healthy Dom/sub relationship should. It is fiction, meant to be taken as fiction, and not something that can or should be acted out in real life.

(CNC/DC, Dom/sub, control, flogging, bondage)

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Daddy's New Pet, Part 1 

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Daddy has been good to me. He has taken care of me, talked to me late into the night, sent me gifts. Daddy has been the best Daddy I could even imagine. But I still haven't seen his face. This is why I'm having second thoughts as I step off the bus outside a cheap motel on the outskirts of town. I had second thoughts on the whole hour long trip. Daddy had warned me I might feel this way.

"It's normal to be afraid, my pet,' he had whispered through the phone. "Can you be brave for me?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. The cold wind ruffles my hair and I pull my coat tighter around myself. For six months I've listened to Daddy's whispers, followed his directions, practiced to be his perfect little pet. I've come this far.

I've known for a while now that a vanilla romance didn't interest me. The things in my mind are depraved, abnormal. I kept them to myself. I turned 18 while still a virgin, unable to subject myself to the inexperienced groping and grinding of the boys my own age. My dark fantasies about losing my virginity had become all consuming. I couldn't settle for less.

I, like so many sex freaks before me, turned to the dark corners of the internet. In a dark fantasy Reddit board I saw the post: "DomDaddy4VirginPet". I clicked the post. I read it once, and then again. I couldn't believe it. My twisted fantasies, word for word, laid out bare on this Reddit board by a complete stranger. A stranger who happened to live in my city. It wasn't possible.

With a shaking hand, I hovered over the chat button. Was I really going to do this? I was terrified, and the fear was making me undeniably wet. I clicked chat, and typed out a short message: "Daddy? I think I could be your pet." I hit send before I could change my mind.

His response came within seconds, like he had been waiting for me.

"How do I know you are real? I need four photos. Face, chest, pussy, ass. You have three minutes."

Three minutes? Who does he think he is? I closed the tab. I was torn. My pussy throbbed. My mind was racing. I reopened Reddit. A message.

"Clock is ticking."

I was frozen. Torn. Horny. Afraid. Impulsivity won out, I tore off my clothes and turned on my webcam. Four photos. Chest first, I covered my nipples with one arm then rethought it. Daddy wants to see me. Pussy next, I stood with my legs close together to not feel too exposed. Ass, I felt best about this as my bubble butt is my best feature and I posed confidently. Face. Oh god, face. What if this got shared online? I was running out of time. Less than a minute. It was now or never. I leaned down and look into the camera, the fear and humiliation showed in my expression, my eyes looked wide and sad and my lips looked pouty.

"Ten seconds."

The pictures loaded into the chat and I stalled, counting down in my mind. Three. Two. One.

My finger clicked the mouse, almost involuntarily. It was done.

The reply came quickly.

"Good, my pet, very good. I'm going to have so much fun training you."

"Thank you, Daddy. When can I meet you?" I reply.

"Patience, my pet. First you must prove yourself."

Daddy sent me a list of impossibly detailed instructions.

He wanted my hair cut into a shoulder-length bob, my pussy to be waxed. He told me to wear my makeup a certain way, to accentuate my already-large eyes. He told me what exercises to do, to stretch to be more flexible, to follow a strict diet to stay under 100 pounds.

I had to video call him three times a day, naked, with a ball gag in my mouth and my hands bound in front of me in leather cuffs. He always kept his camera off. I was only allowed to masturbate on camera in front of him, and only with his permission. He did not often grant it. He banned me from penetrating myself, not my pussy or ass; they would be his, when the time came.

I followed his instructions to the letter. Pleasing Daddy became an obsession, an almost religious devotion.

Daddy took care of everything; the haircuts, the waxing, the exercise classes, my groceries, all of the new toys he required me to buy. He would tell me where I was to go and when, and the person at the counter would tell me my bill was paid already. I wasn't supposed to ask any questions. Daddy had been very clear about that. A good pet does as it is told.

Five months into our arrangement, a message from Daddy came through. I had to go to an adult shop and pick up an item. I didn't hesitate.

At the store, I asked if there was an item to pick up in my name. The woman behind the counter gave me a slow look up and down. Her face broke into a smirk. She turned away and walked into the back room. Something about her unnerved me.

She returned quickly with a non-descript package in her hands.

"Daddy sure does have a type," she smirked again as she handed the package to me.

I was shaken. How did she know? She turned away to help another customer and it hit me. The hair, the makeup, the body size. She was maybe ten years older, but she could have been my twin.

I had thought that Daddy probably had other pets, but I could never ask him that. He was too good at controlling and teasing and punishing me for this to have been his first time. I wondered how many of us there were, and if I'd ever meet any others, and if Daddy ever played with his little human toys together... No. I couldn't think those thoughts. I could only think of pleasing Daddy.

I hurried away, my face blazing red. This stranger knew my shameful, dark secret. My pussy throbbed.

On the bus ride home I sat so that the crotch seam of my jeans pulled tight against my aching pussy. I fought and fought the urge to ever so gently grind against it. I must not masturbate without Daddy's permission.

Thoughts of me and that shop girl and all the other little slut pets lined up beside each other on our hands and knees fill my mind. I couldn't brush them away.

But I must.

I am not allowed to masturbate.

I think of Daddy taking his time working down the line, roughly shoving large cold glass plugs into each of our asses and cooing, "What a good little pet," into our ears as we cry out in pain and tremble with fear.

My hips moved involuntarily, just slightly, getting just enough friction from the seam that is tight across my pussy to bring an aching longing.

I am NOT allowed to masturbate.

I think of Daddy's little slut pets drooling over their ball gags, with their cuffed wrists bound tightly behind their backs, faces on the floor and spreader bars between their ankles. All of us blindfolded. Listening to the moans and sobs of Daddy's pets and the clinks of chains as we struggle against our bindings. Hearing a door open, and the room fill with voices, but we're blind and mute and chained and helpless and terrified and our pussies are dripping down our legs. And Daddy's sweet voice is saying, "Do what you want with them, get your money's worth." The room explodes with whistles and cheers and then their is hands on my tits, my ass, my pussy, impossible numbers of hands, and there are fingers going into my ass dry and the pain is unbearable as I am stretched and stretched and screaming into my ball gag and...

I AM NOT ALLOWED TO MASTURBATE.

It was too late. I'd been grinding unconsciously against my jeans and I could feel the wet patch soaking through. I was over the edge already and wave after wave of pleasure ripped through my body as I came hard. I fought my body to stay still and quiet but I groaned with the effort.

People on the bus near me were looking. I hurried off the bus at the wrong stop, clutching my package and hanging my head in shame. Who was I becoming?

I walked the rest of the way home. I would have to confess this to Daddy. I had never broken any his rules yet. He would be mad. I wondered how he would punish me.

As soon as I got home, I sent Daddy a message.

"Daddy, I am so sorry, I have something to confess."

His response is immediate.

"Have you opened your package?"

I was surprised he did not ask what I had done, but now I was more curious about my new toys. I took the package and tore it open.

Inside were two expensive-looking black leather items. A braided leather cat o' nine tails flogger, and a collar with the word "SLUT" emblazoned across it in large sparkling letters. There was a note.

"My dear little slut pet, I know you have been very bad today. All of you are when you've met another one of my play things."

I was shocked. How could he know this? It was impossible. It couldn't be real. I read on in utter disbelief.

"Your punishment: for the next month, you must wear this collar at all times. Slut 4, who you saw today, will come to your home at 8pm each evening to bind and flog you. If you succeed, we will finally meet. This will be your only chance."

I stared at the note, frozen in disbelief. He knew. He knew meeting another of his pets would drive me wild. He knew it would send me over the edge. He knew me, maybe better than I knew myself.

The doorbell rang at that moment, shaking me from my trance. I look at the clock. 8pm exactly. I hurriedly put on my collar. I couldn't disappoint Daddy again. I answered the door.

Slut 4 strolled in like she owned the place. She pulled off her thick turtleneck sweater revealing a matching "SLUT" collar. She pulled off her pants. She was wearing only a thin lace bra and thong.

"Bedroom," she barked at me without looking, then, "WAIT."

I froze, unsure what she wanted me to do. She grabbed the flogger and rammed the handle into my face, forcing me to hold it between my teeth.

"Crawl, slut," she sneered. I obeyed.

When I got to the room she ordered me to strip. Again, I obeyed. She pulled a blindfold from her pocket and tied it roughly and tightly around my eyes. My world went dark. I could hear her moving around and then Daddy's voice saying, "She can't see?" and Slut 4 confirming that no, I was blind. He must have been on video call. I didn't have permission to see him yet.

"Tie her to the bed, face down, wrists and ankles. And gag her," Daddy's voice was directing and I was roughly pushed onto the bed.

I was terrified. I had never even been touched sexually and here I was getting tied down roughly by a stranger. I could feel my pussy throbbing, begging to be touched.

The leather cuffs were being tightly fastened by Slut 4's skilled hands. Much tighter than I'd been doing on myself. I heard chains clanking around my metal bed posts and then felt them clipping onto my wrist cuffs. Ankles next, one leg pulled tightly towards the bottom of the bed, then the next. Then they were pulled tighter and tighter, my arms and legs being pulled in four opposite directions to the tune of Daddy saying, "Stretch the bitch... that's it, nice and tight, stretch that little slut."

A fistful of my hair was pulled roughly, raising my head up as the familiar rubber ball of my gag was shoved into my mouth. The straps tightened around the back of my head and my head was rammed back down into the mattress.

I cried out, but the muffled sob sounded pathetic and I was bound and stretched so tightly it was impossible to move or resist.

"My pets may only cum with my permission. You broke the rules, Slut 9," Daddy was saying, his voice cruel and angry.

I was distracted by what he'd called me. Slut 9. There were 9 of us. 9. Slut 9. My new name for Daddy. I nearly smiled.

I heard a brief whistle sound just long enough to register before the CRACK came. Nine tiny little leather knots made contact across my ass.

I screamed, "No! Stop! Please, NO!" but the ball gag filling my mouth didn't let the sound out and I was hearing that whistling sound again. I writhed and fought against my bindings, trying to escape the next hit but I barely moved even millimeters.

CRACK. I screamed and sobbed and mutely begged. My whole body shook with the force of my sobbing but I was powerless, utterly helpless, restrained without any chance of escape.

"I think nine flogs for Slut 9 is a fitting punishment," growled Daddy, his voice full of menace and lust. He was enjoying this. Enjoying my pain and suffering and muffled screaming and sobbing.

CRACK. Daddy wanted to see me suffer, and I certainly was suffering. Regret and shame coursed through my mind. How could I have let this go this far? It was just a fantasy.

CRACK. The pain was getting worse with each hit and my screaming had turned to grunting and shaking.

CRACK. My grunting and groaning was pushing thick strands of saliva from the back of my throat out around the ball gag, pooling on the bed under my cheek and smearing across my face.

CRACK. I could feel the blindfold saturated against my eyes but the tears were still flowing uncontrollable.

CRACK. I was an animal, out of my mind with pain and fear. My begging was no longer words but just moaning.

CRACK. I was moaning and sobbing and am struck my a thought that scared me. I wanted Daddy's cock. I wanted it. I wanted it in me, in my pussy, in my asshole, in my throat, all at once. The pain and the longing and the throbbing in my pussy were all consuming, nothing else existed.

CRACK. I was still. It was over. Nine hits.

I was whimpering and moaning and suddenly aware that my pussy was dripping wet. I could feel the wet patch pooling under me on the bed.

"Good slut... Good pet... I am so proud of you... You've done so well..." Daddy was cooing in the background.

The buckles on the back of the gag were undone and again my head was roughly lifted by the hair. The ball gag slipped out of my mouth with a stream of drool, which my head was promptly pushed down into. The hand gripping my hair rubbed my face side to side, coating my face in the face in my own saliva as I gasped for air between sobs, before releasing me.

I turned my cheek towards the direction of Daddy's voice, wherever the computer or phone must be, and said as clearly as I could muster, "Thank you, Daddy."

Each day for the next month, I received the same treatment. I answered the door at 8pm sharp, crawled to the room, let myself be bound and gagged and flogged. Daddy watched and encouraged every time, but I never got to see him. I was denied orgasms all that month. I got used to the aching disappointment in my pussy as I denied myself again and again and again. I was Daddy's pet, his toy, his slut.

On the last day, Slut 4 handed me an envelope when she left without saying a word. Inside was a note. Written on it was tomorrow's date, 8pm, and a room number at a dirty old motel on the outskirts of town. I knew what it meant. Fear coursed through me as I read it. This was it.

That is how I find myself in this dingy, isolated place on a cold and windy night, wearing only a leather collar that reads "SLUT" and a lacy bra and thong under my oversized coat. I try to steady my shaking as I walk across the gravel lot towards the room. Room 9, of course.

I wondered only briefly why the location. Daddy clearly has money yet he has chosen a motel frequented by meth-heads and whores. I don't need to ask him, I know what he'd say.

"My slut pets have to earn nice things." I can hear his voice whispering it through the phone into my ears.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I know tonight will be hard. I've promised my whole body to Daddy, my pussy, my throat, my ass, but I've never even had sex before. I am so scared.

I raise my hand to knock.