darkheart phighting

Her father turned back to her as the coffee machine started to purr. “Last chance.”

This was an experience Sarah had yet to feel, and the novelty of it sent a shiver through her body. She was so used to getting her fulfillment by pleasuring her sleeping father that she hadn’t thought to touch herself during her nightly duties. Sarah inched herself further down his body, stopping as his hard cock pressed up against the outer edge of her labia. The heat of it in such a sensitive place almost made her moan, but she bit her lip, she was too close to her father to risk making such a noise. Slowly and gently, she pushed herself lower, his cock pushing hard against her lips until finally a drop of precum formed at his tip. With the added lubrication his cock slid past and stopped just at her quivering opening. It wasn’t in just yet, but his head pressed against her, and she could feel the heat against her own.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.