Author’s Note

This 5K+ words short story–and likely first chapter of novelette– depicts an “accidental” femdom tryst between a 40yo father and his 20yo daughter. There is non-consent as the daughter does not originally consent when she is put in that position, and yet the vulnerable father does not consent either when the daughter gets carried away with it. There is incest in the form of descriptions of father lusting after daughter, and daughter inflaming the lust of her father, in an erotically charged encounter. And there is femdom with a strong bondage, CFNM, erotic humiliation bent. If any of those aspects are offensive to you, please do not read. If none are, I hope you enjoy.

Story

Jonathan should have foreseen, but did not, his life was gonna change that Saturday morning. At 40 years old, he had found himself single, having gone through a divorce with Skylar, his wife of 20 years. Jonathan and Skylar had been school sweethearts, and an “oops” back in the day before the morning after pill was easily available to the unexperienced young, had left them pregnant. The two young lovebirds eloped a couple of months after. And half a year after that, they were welcoming August, a gorgeous baby girl, into their lives.

Despite not being school graduates yet, Jonathan and Skylar both finished school with help from family and friends. Gone on to get good jobs. And gone on to raise their family. They were happy at their jobs, and they were happy with August. But the rushed marriage had left them stuck with each other even though they were not the best of matches. Skylar was an extrovert and a bit of a party girl. And she felt stifled being married to Jonathan, who was more of an introverted homebody. There was sexual magnetism between them though, as Skylar was a sexy, elegant, lithe, sapphire blue eyed, dirty blonde, that hit all the right notes for Jonathan. Jonathan meanwhile was tall, darker haired and eyed, with more a Italian/Greek American look, which appealed to Skylar. And yet that magnetism often failed to translate to electric sparks, as Jonathan wished Skylar were more assertive in bed, but Skylar did not wish to be. It was not long before Jonathan developed side fetishes that kept him fulfilled. Skylar began to see other men. And despite being together for as long as their daughter August was a child, soon after she left for school Jonathan and Skylar went their separate methods, their married life at an end.

August, Jonathan’s 20 year old baby girl, was a lot like her mother. She was a pretty, classy, lithe, sapphire blue eyed, dirty blonde woman like her mother. And if anything, she was prettier and classier. And like her mother, she was an opinionated woman that had quite a temper. But she also was more open to the methods of the world than her mother ever was. And she was a happier person for that. August had moved to school before her parents divorced, which meant it was weird for her to visit them. Since now they had separate homes and lived separate lives. Her mother, a successful company woman with lots of friends, was doing spectacularly. But August could tell her father, a less successful company man with fewer friends, was more lonely. And that made her sad. She loved her father and wanted the best for him. But she was also disappointed he had not rebounded as well as her mother had and resented him for it. Regardless, August had fallen into a rhythm of visiting with one, or the other, but not both, when she went home. Both parents having given her the keys to their new houses. Both parents having told her their home was her home.

Indeed Jonathan was a little lonely. More sexually, than emotionally. As during his marriage with Skylar he had learned he not only liked, but he craved to be dominated. To be teased, to be humiliated, to be denied by his sexual partner. He had learned that incrementally, from pictures and stories of women doing such things to their men. Skylar had indulged him a bit, but it was not enough. And as soon as Skylar and he no longer shared a bed, it had stopped completely. Jonathan had gone on dates with a couple of women since his separation. And slept with them. But they were not quite right so the relationships had fizzled. To take care of his sexual needs, he had also hired a couple of escorts. Sexually, those were much better experiences. But they had been high class escorts, and Jonathan was not raking it in enough to make that a financially sustainable solution to his needs. So that had stopped. Finally Jonathan had found a solution to kind of sublimate his needs while he took his time in the dating markets. He began writing erotica stories. Femdom stories, in particular. And he began making his own BDSM toys.

In fact Jonathan had found out he had a knack for BDSM restraints and furniture. He made a set of leather manacled, painted hardwood spreader bars that were chicer than anything one could discover in BDSM toy shops. He had made a face-sitting chair and face-footresting ottoman matching set, in iron, hardwood, and white suede, that was much classier than anything you could buy from manufacturers as well. And his latest DIY project, was a bondage post, a three foot tall, four by four inches wide painted hardwood post on a two by two foot painted hardwood base, that was perfect to bind a slave, by wrists and ankles behind the back. Immobilize him in place. Leaving all his front vulnerable, unprotected. Exposed to inspection, criticism, bondage and torment. And he could imagine himself tied naked to that post. Rendered further powerless and impotent by a ball gag, a collar, and a cock-cage padlocked onto his body. An exquisite svelte blonde woman, a bit like Skylar but certainly of his type, teasing him, humiliating him, and denying him.

Indeed, that fateful Saturday morning he decided to try the feel of that scenario out. And so Jonathan striped down to his birthday suit. Went to his trunk of BDSM toys to discover a steel chastity device, a leather dog collar, and a silicone ball gag that he locked onto his body with keyed mini padlocks. Leaving the single key that opened all three devices on a table beside him. And standing on top of the platform and in front of the post, of his newest project set up in the living room, he locked his ankles and wrists in place behind him. He could bind himself alone, because he put on the leather manacles first, then hooked them onto the one-way snapping hooks on the post. And depending on which of two different rings on the manacles he used, he would either bind himself securely in place. Or leave the manacles unsecured so that he could get out by pulling at them hard enough. That day he meant to follow the second procedure. But in his excitement at the possibilities of the device, he had not paid enough attention, and he followed the first. And it took him only an instant to realize he had thoroughly fucked up, and he found himself bound with no escape to his post.

Jonathan’s first reaction was panic. But he calmed down enough to realize panic was not gonna get him out his predicament. Pulling was not gonna get him out. Not in short order anyway. The leather, steel, wood system was too strong. He was not gonna be able to screw the snap hooks out either. He couldn’t spin his limbs like a screw like that!. He could maybe try to rock and tip the whole contraption over. But that seemed more likely to injure him and still leave him bound to the post behind his back. He did not want to scream for help. He lived in a small single family home, and nobody was likely to hear him anyway. There was one way out. But that way actually created more agony, anguish and despair than anything. It was 10am. And in about two hours, around noon, his baby girl August was scheduled to arrive for her weekend with him. But there was no way Jonathan wanted August to see him like this! That would be devastating to him. He imagined that he being her father, she expected him to be at all times strong and in control. The protector. Not a pathetic piece of aging meat, fucked up by his own perverted sexual needs. A loser, victim of himself. So Jonathan went back to trying to discover a solution to his situation. To no avail.

August meanwhile was already driving to her father’s place. Her school was in the same state, but not the same town, as her parents were. So it was a couple of hours drive away. August had at all times been a little bit of a daddy’s girl, to the point she sometimes thought whether her mother felt some competition with her. Now that was moot, as her mother had lost all interest in her father, even before the divorce was finalized. August loved her dad, and was a bit sad that he had not rebounded as well. But she was also disappointed, and angry at him for it. And at times that anger threatened to spill over. Why did he not grow a pair and get on with his life? Meet another woman. Get a promotion in his job. Have a happy fulfilled life? If revenge is what he wanted, fulfilment and success were the best revenge. But those thoughts also led her to believing she understood her mother. August’s dad was not quite a loser. But Jonathan, which is how she liked to call her dad when she was angry at him, was not what you would call a winner either. And women liked and wanted winners.

So the two hours passed, while Jonathan struggled in vain with the predicament of his own making. And August got closer and closer to him. Until, at about 10 minutes after noon, Jonathan’s doorbell rang. Something August at all times did as a courtesy and warning even though she had her father’s house keys, and at all times proceeded to let herself in immediately afterwards. As she did this time, dropping a small carry-on type suitcase in the entrance hall, and turning towards the living room as soon as she felt her father’s presence there.

Only to discover him standing stark naked, his hands and feet seemingly tied to a post behind his back. A 1.5 inch ball gag shoved into his mouth, drool dripping uncontrollably down the side of his mouth. A leather dog collar tied around his neck, slightly squeezing his skin, the buckle one position too tight. And most shocking of all, a stainless steel contraption no more than three or two inches long, with steel bars like a bird cage, enclosing his manhood as it bulged out of the device. All three items secured with 20mm black keyed padlocks. Their key, at first, nowhere in sight.

August’s first reaction was sheer disgust. As a daughter, and then as a woman. She wondered her dad looked pathetic, and that shamed her as a daughter, and repulsed her as a girl. Then a second later the disgust was joined by anger, as she considered the discourtesy of her father to receive her so. How dare he let her walk into whatever perverted lonely sexual game he was playing right now? She wished she never saw her father like that, and she was gonna hold it against him for the rest of his life. And August’s sapphire blue eyes flashed red, like those of a wrathful Empress, as she began to strut the few yards that separate her from her father.

Jonathan meanwhile looked at August with shame, but also with pleading hope. He could not talk, but he hoped August would obviously figure out he needed help getting out of his own predicament. But he could see August’s furious eyes as she walked towards him. Eyes that reminded Jonathan of her mother, and yet seemed to leave the first prototype in the dust. And a shiver ran down his body as he braced for whatever August was gonna do next. And yet he did not have to wait long when before August stopped less than a foot before him, and began.

“Dad. Or rather, Jonathan. I am loath to think of you as my dad right not. What the fuck is this? What are you doing? And why are you like this knowing I was coming to visit you!”

To which Jonathan merely replied.

“Mmmmmm… Mmmmm… Mmmmm.”

“Oh yeah, you can not speak. With that gag in your mouth and all. Well, that is on you.”

And stepping behind her father August realized the gag was locked at the buckle by a keyed padlock. Just like the collar was. And the key was not on her father’s person.

So August took a minute to look around the room, and finding one small key on a looped black leather string, she figured it would open the gag and collar, and picked it up.

Then holding the key with the string on her hand, she returned to stand in front of her father and said to him.

“This is the key to your gag and collar right?”

To which Jonathan moaned some more and nodded his head.

But August did not move to unlock him. Instead, looking at her father’s body over, from head to toe, asked again.

“And does it open that thing on your… I do not even what to say it… as well?”

And Jonathan nodded yes again. And pleaded with his eyes to please be let out his bonds. But his daughter still stood before him looking at the key. Till she decided to roll it up into a fist. And put it in her near painted-on jeans pocket.

What was she doing? Thought Jonathan in despair. Till his baby girl looked at him again, and there was white hot fire in her eyes.

“Jonathan. I can not believe you have done this to me. So, since you seemingly tied yourself up, you are going to stay there and you are going to listen to what I have to say.”

And as she said so August began to circle around her father. Taking a closer look at his predicament. At him. At everything about the situation that was revealed to her there. Again, August wondered of her mother, and it occurred to her if she was not into this shit, it would be too much for her, and would be one more friction in their relationship.

August noticed, unlike his manhood, neck and mouth, her father’s ankles and wrists were not padlocked in place. They were snap hooked. But she also noticed locked or not, his limbs were bound enough so as to be rendered ineffective in setting him free. He just could not bend his hand enough to release the attached wrist. And without at least one hand and wrist fully free, he could not start to work on anything else. She realized he must have bound his hands in such a way by mistake. And another flash of fury at the stupidity of her father shot through her.

Jonathan meanwhile could do nothing but look at his daughter. And plead with pathetic moans and hurt puppy eyes. Which August was ignoring. And it must have been something about his predicament, he was soon also studying, and thinking, how attractive a young woman his daughter was. August had much the same type as her mother, only newer and much improved relative to her mother. Thus August was squarely Jonathan’s type. She was a svelte young woman. 5’9″s and 125lbs. Small but femininely breasted and hipped. Almost certainly bra size 34B, dress size 4. And for a second Jonathan felt guilt he could estimate that. About his daughter. Long legged. And she was a fair beauty too. With long wavy dirty blonde hair which she wore loose today. Sapphire blue eyes. Ivory white skin. She walked with her torso held strait, her head held high. Putting one leg in front of the other as she took long steps. At once elegant and sexy like a catwalk model. She was, as she often was, wearing a pair of low rise skinny jeans that flattered her from the hips, past her pelvis and thighs, down to her calves. And a stylish fitted black T-shirt, that flattered her from the waist, up through her navel and chest, up to collarbone and neck. And the one thing she was wearing just a little unusual today was a pair of three inch heeled black leather pumps. Which unknown to Jonathan, she had worn the previous night, and had picked up as the most accessible thing that day. And after inventorying his own daughter’s body, and getup, Jonathan felt guilt he had done so. But could not shake the alluring summary from his mind.

And as Jonathan held that thought, August stepped closer to him from in front. Put her hand to the side of his face, his mouth, his lips. And using her index finger to scoop up some his saliva, she said.

“You are drooling. Profusely. Like a dog. It is disgusting.”

And twisted her lips into a gesture of deep scorn.

“Is that why you like the gag? Because it makes you drool like a dog?”

“Is it, Jonathan?”

“It makes you look pathetic, you should know.”

And Jonathan winced at the cutting harshness of his daughter’s words.

“It also smashes your face in, which makes you look like a pig, at the same time”

“I am not sure why would you also want to look like a pig, but apparently you do.”

Then sliding her finger down the side of his jaw and onto his neck, August inserts her finger between her father’s dog collar and his neck. And tells him further.

“I guess you do want to look disgusting, like a dog or pig, because you are wearing this collar too.”

“Too tight no less. Which squeezes your neck like a sausage. Maybe you are trying to look like a sausage dog!”

August spits out as she roughly yanks her finger out of her father’s collar. Letting it snap back roughly against his neck.

August was seeing red, so angry she was that her father had made her walk into him like this. In this embarrassing, humiliating predicament. That piled onto the anger that always resulted from parental separation and divorce. And the anger of all the times she felt he not been man enough, father enough, for him to stand up for her growing up. She was disgusted by the man in front of her right now. Which is why she could not come to calling him by any other names other than Jonathan right now.

“In any case, what sort of man wants to be collared like a dog? Collars himself like a dog? Do you have no self-respect, no self-esteem?”

She spat at her father as she turned to one side, and then the other, pacing in front of him. A prancing routine that had her father begin to ogle all the lines and curves of her lithe body as she did so. Her small but pointy breasts. Her narrow but curvy hips. Her long thing legs. Her breast-length, loose wavy dirty blonde hair, as she waved it off and it fell back down to the sides of her face. And her sapphire blue eyes that burned as with a nuclear fire within.

Then August kept looking down her father’s body, to the contraption on his genitals. That took the cake, she thought.

“And that… thing. That thing over your thing. Is that three inches long? Two even? And your… thing…. Gross! Your thing fits in there? Seriously?!”

That blow hurt Jonathan. Bad. And he wanted to defend himself. But any attempt at speaking only came out like muffled mumbles. Which only added to his humiliation.

“Your balls are hairy like an ape’s! Gross!”

“And they sag like an empty balloon!”

“And is that… precum… Oh gross! I want to unsee that!”

“Maybe I should just cut your balls off! Mom would thank me. And that way you wont be able to spawn anybody else with whom I would have to distribute my inheritance.”

Jonathan was in deep distress by now. He couldn’t believe the turn this date with his daughter was taking. And he could not believe who his daughter was turning into. He always thought of her as a kind loving girl. But this viciousness was something entirely new. And it hurt him. And frightened him. But it also made her look like quite a fuckable chick. Like those girls that had ridiculed him in high school, before he had even met August’s mother.

Meanwhile August continued prancing around her father. Appraising him like a piece of meat. Looking for further ways to lash out her anger at him. She was disappointed, and disgusted, and she wanted to make him pay for it.

“Look at that belly. It is going soft. You better begin working on it if you ever want to date again. You do want to date again, don’t you?”

“Otherwise everybody is gonna know you are just the pathetic, rejected, 40 year old divorcé.”

“And your chest. It is not pecs. It is man boobs.”

She said pinching one her father’s nipples and making him shed a quick tear of pain.