My father was changing in his relationship with me. At first it was very subtle, but as time went by I could no longer deny it to myself, no matter how much it hurt. There were already too many signs in his behavior that denoted his progressive transformation.
The first was that he had already settled completely into his situation of doing absolutely nothing in the house. In the beginning, although he would let me take care of the housework as Jose had commanded, he used to help me in subtle ways, or try in some way to make it less burdensome for me. That attitude was now completely gone, and not only was he not cooperating in the least, but I had the feeling that he was doing things like making a mess on purpose and creating more chores for me than was really necessary (I wondered if that, if true, was spontaneous or due to one of Jose's "suggestions" to him in private). Moreover, he no longer had any qualms about ordering me to do this or that, sometimes quite unkindly. He even - although this could be my impression - seemed to enjoy ordering me to do chores of any kind. On the other hand, where the change was certainly evident was in his attitude during the sessions. He had gone from participating in the humiliating games uncomfortably and almost out of commitment, to giving himself up to them with total enthusiasm, with large doses of fun and enjoyment on his part. And, of course, no longer with the slightest regret or remorse. There had been no more quietly apologetic complicit phrases of apology or any behavior denoting the slightest empathy for me on his part when it was obvious that I was having a bad time. I suppose it had quite a bit to do with the fact that most such games were now at his suggestion, and he seemed to have plenty of patience and imagination to discover or invent new humiliations.
But, unfortunately, it wasn't just that. My father's treatment towards me had become much more distant, he no longer had almost any gesture of affection towards me and that tenderness that I always saw in his eyes when he looked at me and that moved me so much seemed to have disappeared completely, replaced by an indifferent look, in which I thought I even perceived a certain contempt, although, I insist, it could be an impression of mine (or so I wanted to think). With Jose he continued to behave with great sympathy, with his natural affability, but with me he was much colder and we hardly spoke at mealtimes, which was almost exclusively when we got together. I also had the feeling that, to my attempts to start a conversation, my father reacted with disdain and answered with monosyllables in order to finish as soon as possible. Other than those moments, the rest of the day he seemed to avoid me - or so it seemed to me - except, of course, when he wanted to use my mouth to unload. Even that had changed. He no longer asked me, or even approached me. He would come to where I was and, sitting comfortably with his big legs spread, he would simply point to his crotch. I already knew what I had to do. Besides when he used my mouth or my ass, he did it without the slightest affection, furiously and violently, leaving without a word as soon as he unloaded his cum inside me. I felt completely like a disposable object.
It was clear that Jose was poisoning her heart. Part of it he had done in front of me, but, in addition - I guessed - there were the constant messages they usually exchanged when he was not at home. What would he say to him in those messages? I could never know, but I was sure it was nothing favorable to me.
The subject tormented me, because I also felt guilty to a great extent. Hadn't it all been to teach my father to be a Master to me? Now that it was happening and he seemed to have learned to enjoy it, was I the one who didn't want it to happen? My feelings were overwhelming.
I didn't know what to do, but it was clear to me that I had to try something, it was killing me, so one day at lunchtime I told him softly:
-Dad, you've changed, you... you... -I hesitated- you don't love me like you used to. You don't seem to care about me anymore.
He looked at me with an exasperated expression and said sourly: -What nonsense! I'm still the same as I always was. You like to talk nonsense!
