Daddys Girl In Chains

It happened a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday when I was still at home doing my A levels. That Saturday Mum was taking Gemma to London to play in the National Youth Orchestra and Daddy had a golf tournament so I had all day to myself to play. I had breakfast in my nightie and robe and saw them all off then began to put my plan into operation.

Stage One had begun the previous Sunday morning when I had said that I needed to study so had stayed home when the family went to church. Alone in the house I had filled a washing up bowl with water and taped into it my handcuff key and the keys to my two padlocks. The whole thing then went into the very bottom of the big freezer in the garage where I knew no-one would look.

Still in my night things I went through the connecting door to the garage and carried the heavy bowl containing its block of solid ice into the kitchen. It had been freezing for six days so was now very well hardened and would take a long time to thaw. Then I dashed up to my room and brought the plastic carrier bag from the bottom of my wardrobe. Back in the kitchen I tipped the bag out onto the floor and began to go through my equipment. The lengths of clothesline went back into the bag and I realised I had forgotten one item so I went to the airing cupboard for a spare pillowcase which I soaked under the cold tap in the kitchen sink.

Now I was ready so I stripped off my gown and nightshirt and threw them carelessly out into the hall before sitting naked on the kitchen floor with my bondage kit around me. Of course there was no-one to see my nakedness but it somehow feels right for a girl in punishment to be humiliatingly exposed. We are taught from an early age to keep ourselves covered and most women, even when alone, will wear something so being naked definitely added to the zing of this experience.

Firstly I tied the scarf gag very tightly at the back of my head so that it was forced into my mouth and uncomfortably distorting the shape of my face. Next, sitting up and leaning forward, I looped a length of chain around the pipe to the radiator and padlocked each end around an ankle. My pussy was tingling now and it would have been nice to put a hand down there to relieve the tension but part of the fun is having that ache between my legs and being able to do nothing about it. Now the wet pillowcase went over my head robbing me of sight and making me feel wet and uncomfortable as the soaking fabric stuck to my face and hair. I felt on the plastic mat beside me for the cold handcuffs and put my hands behind my back. Once the last bracelet clicked into place I would have no choice but to just wait here for the ice to thaw around the keys. Thawing ice is an inexact method of timing but I knew from experience that I would be going nowhere for at least two hours.

That itch between my legs was really annoying and if I had been on my belly I might have been grinding my pubis into the floor but there was not enough slack in the chain around my ankles to let me turn over. I found a position as comfortable as I could on my side and tried to squeeze my thighs together around that fleshy mass of nerve endings between my legs. I was breathing heavily inside my pillow case hood. The hood was not secured at the neck so plenty of oxygen could find its way inside but it was still quite awkward and unpleasant to have wet fabric clinging around my nose and mouth.

The plastic bowl containing the keys was beside me and later on I would be able to manoeuvre myself into a position where I was sitting with my back to the bowl so that my manacled hands could reach into the water and withdraw the keys. But that would not happen for a very long time. I shifted my position and could feel the bowl against my left thigh; through the plastic bowl I could feel that the ice was as hard as granite so it seemed that thawing had not even begun.

It was deliciously humiliating and shaming to have to lay here on the floor like a dog with my cheek resting on the mat and I was imagining the sight which would confront anyone standing in the hallway. The kitchen door was open and my night things would be on the hall carpet as if I had been stripped before being forced into the kitchen to suffer my punishment. I pondered what my fictitious captors would do to me when they returned; whatever it was I would be helpless to resist. I guessed that I would be able to unlock myself around 10.30am and I would have the house to myself till around 6pm at the earliest when Daddy was due back so I began to think about what punishments I could inflict upon myself once I was free of my present predicament. Of course lunch did not figure in my plans as little Julie had been sentenced to a whole day of going hungry. Girls who are so depraved as to need chaining up are not given hot meals. Perhaps if I was very good I might be allowed to lap up a bowl of cold soup on the concrete garage floor.

Then I heard the car! For a moment I tried to believe that it was just a car in the road but I knew that was silly. The car was in the drive and I know the sound of Daddy's car. But he was in Winchester. I was now in a total panic trying to pull my hands out of the handcuffs but all that achieved was hurting my wrists. I heard his key in the door and I heard him shut the front door behind him. There were a few footsteps on the hall carpet then a horrible silence while I just knew my Daddy was standing in the kitchen doorway. Daddy is very bright so he didn't waste time thinking about burglars or rapists; he saw the keys frozen in the ice beside me and he knew exactly what was happening.

Suddenly I was blinking in the light as he whipped the pillow case from my head. I felt some sort of greeting was called for but all I could manage was "Argarg." He crouched down shaking his head.

"What on earth will your mum say when she hears?"

Now you need to understand that my mum has a fit of the vapours if I just run from the bathroom to my room without my bra. It is almost impossible to imagine how she would react to the scene at which Daddy was now looking. She would totally flip; she would get me into counselling or have me put away.

I was furiously shaking my head and trying to tell Daddy all the reasons why Mum must not know about this but it is hard to make a case when all you can say is "MMMffff,,,aag argg."

Daddy had lifted the bowl into the sink and turned on the hot tap and he was still speaking.

"And then there is Gemma. What would she make of it? She's bound to find out."

In my mind I was begging him to take off my gag and I was also burning with embarrassment that my dad had an unrestricted view of my boobs and my dark fuzzbush. I couldn't pull my knees up under my chin to hide anything as my ankles were still chained to the radiator and I was very afraid that my pubic hair was glistening with moisture due to the sexual state in which I had been just a moment ago.

He crouched down again and very carefully untied my gag then eased it out of my mouth.

"Daddy PLEASE don't tell Mummy. She'd go absolutely ape. You know she would."

His face was grave.

"I don't see how I could keep it a secret. She's your mum."

"But you CAN'T tell her. It was only this once. I ...wanted to see what it felt like."

He stood up and surveyed the whole view of naked daughter.

"So it was just the once?"

"Yes Daddy honestly."

"Even though you have a full bondage kit and you have lots of clothesline which you aren't using today so I guess you used it last time."

I blushed furiously and hung my head in silence. What could I say?

He took a carton of orange juice from the fridge and poured himself a glass while still openly enjoying the view then he went to the sink where the hot water had melted the ice and freed the keys. He held the small bunch of keys in his hands.

"I think you'd better tell me all about it. Everything."

So, as he sat on a stool, I poured it all out. I told him how I had a "thing" about punishment and humiliation and how the idea of these things drove me into a frenzy. As I talked I could tell that he was thinking about how to handle the situation and he idly moved from the stool and picked up my carrier bag of ropes.

"Now let's be clear about this. If I don't tell your mum she can never ever know and you can never breathe a word to ANYONE."

I began to see the faintest glimmer of hope.

"Yes Daddy, of course Daddy."

He bent down and unlocked my ankles. I moved my legs and rubbed my feet together to restore the circulation and just enjoy the freedom. I expected him to go behind me to free my wrists but he had other ideas.

"Roll over on your front."

"Daddy?"

"Roll over on your pussy."

He had never used that word to me. He had always been very correct and proper. Numbly I obeyed and I felt him bind my ankles with a length of rope.

"What are you doing Daddy?"

"I need time to think and perhaps you do as well."

He clinched my knees together then he wound rope around my upper arms so that my arms were pinioned against my sides. Next a rope went around my cuffed wrists and around my waist so that my hands were tight against the small of my back. Of course he could not do this without touching my bare flesh and it felt very odd indeed to have my Daddy's hot hands on my skin. Finally he pulled my ankles up into the air and I felt him tie a very short rope from my ankles to my wrists so that I was belly down with my body in a curve. My head was off the ground as it was being pulled back by my arms which, in turn, were being pulled back by my feet. This was a very uncomfortable position with every muscle under tension and no possibility of even the slightest movement.

"I need you to wait there and reflect while I decide what to do. I will see you later."

"Daddy, no, wait, Daddy please it hurts, Daddy...."

And he was gone. I heard him shut the front door and I heard his car pull away. All I could see was a few inches of floor in front of my face and the bottom of a cupboard so I could not see the clock on the wall. I had not the slightest idea of what he had in mind or how long I would be here. All I knew was that my muscles were screaming at me and yet, despite the pain, my pussy was wet. I was feeling very aroused indeed and began to rock back and forth with all my weight on the centre of my body which just happened to be the very part of me which was becoming ever more moist.

Of course I have no idea how long I lay there with every muscle aching and all those nerve endings between my legs working overtime. Small groans were coming from the back of my throat and I REELY needed to do something about the rapidly building fire in my pussy. I was "gagging for it" and I desperately wanted Daddy to come back and "Give me a really good seeing to" but I somehow knew that I would never be able to say the words, "Please fuck me Daddy." I was certain that I just would not be able to pronounce that simple sentence.

I was making so much noise that I only dimly registered the sound of the car on the drive and then he let himself in and was standing over me asking if I was ready to do whatever I was told and keep our secret forever. I agreed enthusiastically; I had no wish for anyone at all to know what I had been doing. As he untied me he told me that his golfing partner had gone down with the flu and he could not play in a pairs tournament on his own so he had come home. Finally he removed the handcuffs from behind me but immediately pulled my hands in front of me and cuffed me again. While I sat naked on the floor in puzzlement he took a small wooden spoon from the pot where such things are kept and handed it to me.

"From the noise you were making I gather you have something you want to attend to."

I looked up at him unsure if he meant what I thought he did then I parted my legs and pressed the bowl of the spoon against my tender area. Both hands were gripping the handle and applying as much pressure as possible as I moved the implement up and down. Still my Daddy stood impassively while I lay back with my legs straddled and frigged myself with all the expected sound effects. I could smell that the air was thick with the reek of my sweat and all that juice being produced between my legs. It was a good thing that the windows were shut as the volume became quite high. Eventually I came to a huge climax and then tipped over the edge and down the other side to end up lying like a limp doll and gasping for air. By now Daddy had sat down on the stool to enjoy the show.

He left me to recover for a while then told me to get up and go upstairs to the bathroom.

"You need a wash and I guess you probably need to use the loo."

He gave me no help at all to pull myself unsteadily to my feet and I held out my cuffed hands towards him.

"Could you..Um?"

He firmly told me that I could keep the handcuffs on and that he expected me back in the kitchen in ten minutes. So I flannelled myself in warm soapy water and used the loo. I would have liked to wash my straggly hair but there was no time and then I returned to the kitchen where he told me to sit on a stool while he cuffed my hands behind me again. I was sitting with my legs together and he made me sit with them fully open.

"It's a bit late to pretend you are shy."

In spite of all that had happened that morning it felt terrible to be sitting there brazenly displaying my most intimate parts to my Daddy. The microwave oven pinged and Daddy took out a steaming bowl of rice pudding to which he added a generous helping of strawberry jam and, sitting on a stool beside me at the worktop, he proceeded to spoon feed me which he last did when I was aged two. He also helped me to drink a small glass of cold milk then he picked up my bondage bag and told me that we were going to my room.

Daddy had me sit at my wooden chair in front of my desk and he tied a rope around my waist binding me to the back of the chair. Next he tied my ankles and led a rope from them up to the chair back so that I was forced to sit with my knees bent and my legs being pulled backwards under my seat. As I watched in silence he found his way around my stationery supplies and laid a pad of A4 lined paper in the centre of the desk placing a fibre tip blue pen beside it. When he was satisfied he ordered me to place the palms of my hands down on the desk on either side of the paper and keep them there until he returned.

I had no idea what he was planning and did not dare to ask. I could hear him moving around in his room next to mine then he returned carrying a shiny black leather gag with the straps dangling from each side. My eyes and mouth opened wide in amazement and, without a word, he fastened the gag in place. It had a broad leather band which covered my mouth and fastened to the back of the band was a large rubber bung which filled my mouth.

For a moment I thought he must have bought the gag when he had gone out leaving me bound on the kitchen floor but I was sure he had been empty handed when he returned and I had just heard him in his bedroom so the gag must have been in there. Surely that meant that he already had the gag in his room before today. I tried to picture my mum with this very effective gag fastened over her mouth and I wondered if a tendency to submissive fantasies can be inherited. The idea of the two of them next door playing while I was in my bed in here, well it was just......"

My captor brought me out of my reverie with his stern instructions.

"I want a two thousand word essay on 'What I would like my Daddy to do to me' and you can start it with a full description of everything that went on in this house before I arrived back this morning. I will be marking it so please don't be sloppy in your writing. I might make you submit it under creative writing at school."

As he left me my mind was a whirl. What had I got myself into? And could he be serious in that final threat? To have Mrs Adamson sitting reading the piece which I now had to create did not bear thinking about. Surely that would be the ultimate humiliation.

Well, Gentle Reader, I did complete the essay and my Daddy gave it a cursory glance before folding it and placing it into his pocket. That was at around 6.30 in the evening and we knew that Mum and Gemma would be home at about 7. He released my aching limbs and left me to dress myself.

When they did come in all the talk was about their day in London but later on Daddy told them about his aborted golf tournament and how he had spent a lazy day watching snooker on television. He said he had hardly seen me as I had been upstairs writing an essay.

Mum asked me how the essay had gone.

"OK I think. I won't really know till it gets marked."