A training run

When he finished his food, my father gestured to my mother to clear the table, and after she did, to make coffee for him. He lit a cigarette (which had been forbidden inside the house since I could remember; he always used to smoke on the balcony), and sat back, watching her do the dishes, clean the countertop, and store the crockery in the cupboards.

When she had finally completed all her chores, she looked at him in a silent plea to be allowed to eat herself now. He nodded, but when she was about to sit down, he stopped her again. He made her dish up her plate (without any meat which was finished now), then he stood up and walked around her. He produced a piece of rope from somewhere, and tightly tied her wrists together behind her back. Then she finally was allowed to sit down, the plate in front of her. As he sat back again and enjoyed his coffee watching her, she found she had no other way to take the food than to bend forward, bring her mouth to the plate, and eat directly from there. My father looked very satisfied with the situation, taking another puff and obviously enjoying her predicament. I was fascinated myself, also sitting at the table, and watching how one of my egalitarian parents made the other eat like an animal. She must have been hungry; she finished the whole plate without any protests.

Meanwhile, dad continued posing questions to me about that afternoon. He wanted details, specifics, exact information about the events. He left no room for euphemisms or generalized phrases; when I tried them he immediately corrected me, requiring proper and explicit wording: fuck, clit, sperm… When I told him that I really didn’t remember everything, he was dismayed and said I should train my memory; a properly trained girl should be able to report on events even if she had been fucked to bits. His interrogation lasted a full hour; finally he only quit because Fred was almost coming and he had to prepare some stuff.

It was ten to eight when the doorbell rang; Fred must have been really anxious to see what the situation in his friend’s house was like these days. He wasn’t disappointed. My father had prepared a feast for his eyes. My mother was tied down naked on the coffee table in the middle of the living room like a trophy. She was placed face down, her knees on one end, and her face on the other; in between her ass stuck up high in the air in a vulgar exhibition of availability. Tight ropes around ankles, wrists, thighs and torso made sure there was no way for her to change into a more decent position. Then he had oiled her up, so her ass shone like a glimmering star, a center of attention for the whole room. She wore a ball gag, not so much to prevent her from speaking, but just ‘because it looks so nice’ as he had explained to me when he had me witness the application of her bondage. He hadn’t tied me down next, but just told me to undress as well, kneel down on the floor, and wait for events to unfold. He had an approving and unashamed look across the various perks of my body as he set up the scene for the reception of his friend.

When Fred arrived, he and my father took their seats in the comfortable living room seats on either side of the coffee table. Even though my mother’s ass was rising up between them, they hardly paid any attention to it. It was merely an ornament, a living statue of the final victory of masculine power over female body. They started discussing cars, football, and politics, and they took their time for it. It was perfectly clear that no window of opportunity would be lost when they procrastinated the use of the female bodies around them for a bit; they were available now, they would be available in ten minutes or two hours as well. It made me feel as if their power was even more profound, more compelling, just kneeling on the floor, excluded from participating in their conversation as if that was the natural state of affairs. _Of course _women would need to wait and be quiet when men talked between themselves.

When the subject finally came to my further education, it was exactly like that: they didn’t talk to me, they talked about me. It was awful. Dad retold my story about the gangbang in the classroom in all its colorful details, without any reservations or omissions. I was so ashamed. It felt as if dad took some sort of credit from a spicy account of my ignominious submission and ordeal. He mentioned that the third orgasm had been slightly less intense, but the fourth had made up for that. They both noticed that I blushed when he told Frank that, and laughed about it: “Such a cute girl”... in all my nakedness, it only made me blush more, and they revelled in that more… like a deadly spiral of shame.

My father said to Fred: “So now I’m thinking, she’s young and pretty, but she’s obviously untrained. She needs to learn how to please, how to take a dick and get it to shoot. Would you mind to provide the training materials for my further education? “

Fred had another drooling look at my body, but replied to my dad: “Well, you’re a very good friend. If I can do something for you, of course I will!”

My father obviously appreciated his reply: “You’re too kind! Please unbuckle then, and show my daughter her training gear!”

I shivered as Fred lowered his pants. His dick was more than solid enough, but not exactly the dream of a young girl like me… crooked, a weird shade of purple, and thick veins running along the length of it.

Finally my dad addressed me now: “So come forward, my dear. Crawl up between his legs, and examine his apparel up close!”

Resistance would be futile anyway and probably make things worse, so I just obeyed. The ugly dick got bigger and bigger in my eyes with each knee-step I took, passing along the uplifted ass of my mother. Fred spread his knees apart when I came close enough so I would find no obstacles in approaching it. In the end my lips were just inches away.

My dad said: “Well isn’t that a pretty sight for a hungry slut? You’re very lucky, you have caught his interest and he’s stiff and hard already! That’s very good; we can address the handling of a limp cock in a future lesson. But now, just pretend it is your father’s cheek… and kiss it, like you do when you go to school in the morning!”

I bent my head further forward to obey. As my lips touched his acorn I shuddered, but I managed to complete the kiss. Then I lifted my head back from him, waiting for the next instruction.

My dad continued: “Very good. But a kiss is just a prelude, and not quite sufficient to suck his load out of him. What you need to do is, start a move as if you would kiss his acorn; but when you touch him, your lips part and take the dick between them. Then you bring down your head, and gobble up more of his length as you nod further down. Got it? “

I nodded. I was glad he didn’t demand a spoken reply because I would have been unable to provide it.

“Then go!”, he said.

Despite its ugly look, it didn’t really feel bad when my lips enveloped his rod and started gulping it in. Its firmness and potence was quite clear, and somehow it felt reassuring and destined to stuff my oral cavity with it, as if it was the natural place for it to be.

My father kept guiding me as I let Fred’s cock slide deeper and deeper into my mouth: “That’s it… deeper, deeper… keep up the suction when you’re bringing it in… very good… suck it up, darling… deeper, deeper… come on, you can take more of it… keep sucking it, it will come in naturally like that…”

More and more inches slid into my mouth as the acorn slid from my mouth into my throat. Suddenly there was a panic moment, when the tip reached the back of my throat. I gagged. In a reflex, I brought up my hands to push his loins away from me, and release this huge dick to recover a bit. But they never quite made it that far. My father had jumped up from his chair and leapt forward to grab both my wrists. As he brought them to my back, he hissed to me: “You never use your hands when you’re giving head. Never, you hear? When you suck a dick, a man wants to feel the sweet suction of your lips, the gentle smoothness of your tongue, the slippery descent deep into your throat… the touch of your hands would ruin that experience. Do you understand? “

I nodded.

“So do I need to tie your hands to make sure you comply? “

I shook my head.

Dad was satisfied. The dick had slipped from my mouth in the turbulence, so he said: “Good. Resume, then. “

I bent my head forward and took Fred’s dick between my lips again, gobbling up the inches. Dad had released my wrists now, but I kept my hands behind my back anyway, like he told me. It was easier now to suck the dick deeper and deeper inside. Even when he reached that gagging point at the back of my throat again I managed to suppress the **** reflex. There was another half inch to go from there, then my lips reached the base of his shaft and there was nothing left to gobble up.

Dad said: “Very good, my dear! Doesn’t if feel good, to be completely stuffed with dick like that? “

He wasn’t wrong. I held still there, the hard dick throbbing against my lips, tongue, palate, throat. I couldn’t reply, but I nodded my head slightly in confirmation.

He laughed out loud: “Yeah, we’ll make a proper sucking princess of you, my dear slut daughter! Now, it is time for the second stage… release the suction, and let it slide out of you… that’s right… release, let it shove out… but not completely, hold it right there!”

I stopped. Only Fred’s acorn was still between my lips, all the rest of his length had slid out.

My father added: “So now you reverse again… like when you started. Suck up all that length again. Go go go go go!”

Under his encouragement, I started sucking in Fred’s inches for a third time. The gagging reflex was gone completely when my lips reached the bottom of the shaft again. Dad told me to reverse, and when only the acorn was in my mouth again, to suck it back in. I got the picture now, and upped the rhythm as I let Fred’s dick shove in and out of my mouth. Dad kept talking to me, telling me to suck harder, deeper, faster. I felt how the rod grew even bigger and harder under my efforts. When I looked up for a minute I glanced right into Fred’s eyes, looking down on me with delight. The dick shoving in and out of my mouth became a frenzy. My head became light and dizzy. I vaguely noticed the beginning of the jolts when his load got ready to burst, and when the long spurts of sticky goo shot deep into my throat I swallowed them as fast as they came or I would have suffocated.

My dad gently pulled me back from Fred’s lap. He told me how proud of me he was, how I had grown into such a lovely young lady, that he was really pleased with me. He didn’t really need to, I already knew that; still it was good to hear him praise me. Even though my jaws were stiff and cramped, the absence of those comforting inches felt like a privation. When I looked up to Frank again, his drooly eyes were replaced with a glance of deep satisfaction to the gratification I had given him.

My dad said: “So… on to that other subject now… anal disclosure!”