Message-ID: <8236eli$9802081122@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Ms. Which" Subject: Ana and her Father, Part I (nc, inc) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Content-Type: text/plain Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980208012206.2497.qmail@hotmail.com> NOTE: If it's illegal to read this sort of thing where you live, don't do it. I need your feedback to continue writing stories! Email me at mswhich@hotmail.com ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Ana and her Father, Part I Ana stretched her limbs for the first time in several hours. The drive from the airport had been long and tedious, and there had been no stops. As she worked the cramps from her tired body, she looked up at what must be her new home. She blinked, and glanced at her welfare officers, themselves just emerging from the car, for affirmation. Mrs. Johnson smiled at her. "That's the one, dear." It wasn't a house. It was a mansion, complete with gables and turrets and a wrought-iron gate. Ana thought privately that it looked somewhat like a fortress. She sighed. This had not exactly been what she'd expected. Ana Jameson had, until now, lived with her mother in Chicago. When her mother had died two weeks before, of a rapidly encroaching cancer the doctors were powerless to stop, the welfare officials had searched desperately for any living family member. Her mother had been an only child, and her grandparents were long gone. The only lead the welfare agency had to go by was the name of her father, written on her birth certificate. Ana had never had contact with her father, even to the extent of knowing his name. Her mother had never said a word about him; who he was, where they'd met, or where he was now. Assuming she had even known, that is. Upon contacting him, the welfare officials were not surprised to find that he had previously been unaware he had a daughter at all. They were more surprised, however, to hear him agree to take her in. And so for Ana it was a long drive with the ever-somber Miss Johnson and Mr. Davis to southern Kentucky. She hadn't expected to find a luxuriant mansion of this sort located in Kentucky, but here it was before her, large as life. She half-expected there to be a moat or a lonely princess locked in a turret. She shook her head; there was even a cold draft blowing down off the hill. It was all a little too Gothic. Pulling her sweater tighter around her with one arm, she bent to pick up her suitcase. Miss Johnson and Mr. Davis shared a glance, and then smiled brightly at Ana. "Well, here we are. Ready, sweetie?" Ana grimaced. On top of her mother's recent death and her being shipped off to the boondocks to live with a man she'd never seen before in her life, she had to contend with her social welfare officers, who did not appear to be interested so much in her social welfare as getting her off their hands as quickly as possible. But, she supposed, at least her father seemed to be wealthy enough. Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad. The shivering 16-year-old strode ahead of her guardians and walked purposefully toward the front door of the mansion. Miss Johnson and Mr. Davis shared another glance, this time a bit more worried. "Do you think we should tell her?" "What, about the rumors? They're rumors. Unsubstantiated rumors. And besides, he's the girl's father. What else could we do?" "Well, I know.. it's just that the stories we've heard from the locals.." "A lonely recluse, wealthy, with a bit of a taste for the extreme in his sexual life. So what? It's a free country, he's not hurting anybody, the last time anybody saw him in town _anyway_ was over a year ago, and she's his daughter, so at any rate they won't be having sex. Happy?" "I suppose." In the meantime, Ana had rung the doorbell, with some trepidation. Half a minute later, the door opened, causing her to involuntarily gasp in surprise. Embarrassed, she smiled at the man standing in the doorway and introduced herself. "Hello, sir.. I'm Ana Jameson." Paul Andrews stared at the girl on his doorstep. His gaze was imperious, and he turned its full weight to bear on Ana. "You're to live with me, I suppose. Come in, then." Ana turned to her welfare workers for support, but they only shook her hand, each in turn, told her they wished her the best of luck, and headed back to the car. Ana watched their car drive away, feeling lost and alone, and slowly followed her father indoors. Once inside, her father led her through the house to her room. He pointed out the kitchen and bathrooms along the way, as well as his wing of the house and the living rooms and such. All of this was done in a commanding voice, bearing no interruption or comment. Ana had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Finally, after what seemed a mile, Paul opened the door to Ana's new room. It was simple compared with the rest of the house, with only a bed, a dresser, and a desk. She set her suitcase on the floor and turned to face her father. For a long moment, each sized the other up. Paul saw a young, fairly attractive girl, with long straight hair, bearing a vague resemblance to himself. He noted that she was tallish, and had strong legs. Ana, on the other hand, saw a black-clad, dark-haired man, wearing wire-rim glasses, also tall, and well-built, with a stern face. "Come with me." Ana followed the abrupt command, trailing her father down the stairs into a living room. He indicated to her to sit down opposite him, in one of the high-backed chairs. "Your name is Ana. Mine is Paul, although I will expect you to address me differently. We'll get to that in a moment. First, let me make something perfectly clear to you. I bore no sentiment for your mother. She was a mistake that I made almost 17 years ago, and I'd nearly forgotten about her." Ana blinked hard. Her mother's death was still fresh in her mind, and she missed her terribly. She had to hold back tears at these harsh words. Paul, appearing not to notice, continued. "I have certain expectations about how my house will be run. When I am working in my study, you will not disturb me. Nor will you speak to me unless you are either addressed, or have a specific question to ask me. You will keep your room clean, and you will achieve good marks in school. Those are my basic expectations." Ana felt sick. But Paul was not finished yet. "You also may have heard rumors in the town about me. They say I'm some kind of sexual deviant, and that I have no morals to speak of." Paul gazed down at Ana, who was struck speechless. "I can't speak as to my morals, but I am indeed a sexual deviant. There's a name for men like me, and that name is 'sadist'. Now, I have not indulged my particular pleasures for quite some time. However, unfortunately for you, and very fortunately for me, it appears that I have a new toy." Ana realized that he was referring to _her_ as his "toy". She stood up in shock and began to speak, only to be silenced by her father's voice. "Sit down! I told you that you _will not_ speak unless spoken to. You have nowhere to go. My doors lock from the inside as well as the outside. And, even if you could get out, there's nowhere you could go for help. I control this town financially, and no matter how sympathetic they might be to you, they'll return you to me. I furthermore suggest that you keep your mouth shut about what goes on here, if you want any semblance of a normal life outside these walls." Ana was trembling now, in utter disbelief. "Now. You will address me only as "Father" or "Master". You will wear only the clothing I choose for you. And you are subject to my demands, at all times. If you disobey any of my orders, you will be punished. Do you understand?" Ana finally found her voice. "No, I don't understand! What do you mean.." That was as far as she got with her protest. Her father had rapidly crossed the distance to her chair, grabbed her wrists behind her back, and marched her, crying out her protest and struggling to get free, to a room on the next floor down. Once she'd stopped struggling, Ana found herself chained to a wall by her wrists, hanging from manacles which were set high on the wall. Paul ripped her blouse from her body in a business-like fashion, doing the same to her bra. He slid the skirt down past her hips, and then her panties, ignoring his daughter's protests and feeble kicks. He smiled to himself; it was difficult to kick well when one's arms were pulled straight above one's head. He was now looking at a squirming young girl, the muscles in her legs straining, and her high fine breasts bouncing as she wriggled back and forth, chained to a wall in his basement. He sighed in pleasure. Fatherhood was going to be good to him. ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |