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Subject: {ASSM} (MsWhich) NEW: Ana and her Father, part 8 (nc, inc, torture)
Date: Sun, 30 Apr 2000 06:10:03 -0400
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If you're not supposed to read this, then don't.
Feedback is always welcome; send comments to mswhich@hotmail.com.
--
Ana and her Father, part VIII.
Paul smiled distantly. Ana's struggles had ceased, for the most part.
Earlier, she'd managed to splash half the water out of the tub, but now her
efforts were concentrated solely on breathing. As they should be, he
thought to himself.
Ana's hands were chained behind her back, her ankles were chained together,
and another chain encircled her neck. A fourth chain was pulled taut,
connecting the ones at her ankles and neck, forcing her to arch her back and
not permitting any freedom of motion. She was lying on her back this way in
the bathtub, which presently was filled with water to above the level of her
head. Her earlier splashes had been a futile attempt to raise her head
above the water.
Paul was holding his hand over the opening to a tube that ran to her mouth.
He counted slowly to fifteen, then released, watching Ana's chest expand and
contract violently under the water.
They'd been doing this for about an hour. Ana's force of will was strong,
but Paul thought she would give in soon. The next time he covered the tube,
it would be for twenty seconds. Ana wouldn't enjoy that. And if she still
didn't give in, he'd increase the time to thirty seconds. He smiled. Ana
was strong, but not that strong. She'd give in.
He glanced at the clock. It had been half an hour since he last brought her
up out of the water. Paul pulled the tube out of her mouth and dragged her
head up. Ana immediately began to cough and gag, spitting out water. She
groaned, but said nothing -- she'd learned that lesson the last time he'd
let her up for air.
"Ana, are you ready to tell me what I want to hear?"
She looked at him miserably, rivulets of water coursing down her face,
mingling with tears, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.
"Ana, did you hear me? I want you to answer me. Are you ready?"
She moaned, a low, desperate, mournful sound, but said nothing. Paul
shrugged nonchalantly.
"All right, have it your way."
He pushed her head back below the water and inserted the tube in her mouth
again. After a minute or so, he held his hand over the top for twenty
seconds.
It wasn't so much, really, what he was asking of her. He just wanted a
simple admission of love, that's all. That shouldn't be so hard for a
daughter to admit to her father.
She'd come home from school, bedraggled, scratched and bruised, with cum
dripping down her thighs. Paul's cock twitched just looking at her, knowing
what she'd been put through, enjoying the sight of his own daughter defiled
that way. He'd drawn her into his arms, felt her body shake with sobs.
He'd also slid a finger under her skirt, between her thighs, and felt her
hot, swollen clitoris, eliciting a desperate moan from the girl. Good, he
thought to himself. She hadn't managed to have an orgasm. He'd expected
she wouldn't.
He'd put her into the bath, then -- not chained, as she was presently, just
a regular bath. He'd cleansed her, while she cried and cried, spilling out
the long sordid story of her day (of course, he'd already known the details,
having arranged it, but he listened nonetheless). He soaped her up and
rinsed her off, then drained the water and filled the bath again.
"Ana," he'd said, "you must know that I love you. I wouldn't keep you here
otherwise."
It wasn't completely untrue, but Ana's eyes betrayed her feelings of outrage
at the sentiment. Her father continued on.
"I love you, Ana my dear. Do you love me? Do you? I want to hear you say
you do."
Her eyes darkened, and a crease drew together in her forehead. Paul's cock
twitched again. He hoped she would refuse him. To his delight, she shook
her head slightly, her lips pinched tightly together.
"Ana, I want to hear you say that you love me. I'm your father, and I think
I deserve at least that much."
Ana stared back mutely. She would not admit to loving this monster of a
man, who had torn her from her home and put her into bondage, torturing her,
putting her through the most deviant and disgusting rituals. She would not
tell him she loved him. She despised every inch of his person. She tried
to forget how badly she'd wanted to come home to him after the boys in the
schoolyard had taken her. That wasn't love, that was desperation. She
hated him.
Paul was staring at her, his features suddenly cold and harsh.
"Ana, darling, I'm starting to think you enjoy punishment."
It was then that he'd chained her and pushed her down below the water,
allowing her to breathe only through a slender tube. Ana was panicked by
that already, even before he began blocking the air supply for long seconds
at a time. Now, after an hour, she was starting to think he meant to kill
her this time.
Paul looked up at the clock again. She'd been down this time for only about
twenty minutes, but he felt that the repeated oxygen denial was wearing down
her defenses. Besides, he'd developed a raging erection and wanted to do
something about it. He yanked Ana up out of the water again, giving her a
minute to stop gagging and coughing up water.
"Ana? You know what I want you to say. I can keep you here all night like
this. I can hold off your air for longer and longer. Would you like that,
Ana? Do you want that?"
Ana tried to stare at him defiantly, but the quivering of her lower lip
betrayed her. She couldn't go back under the water. She'd die. Soon, the
rest of her face crumpled, and she let out a long, heartwrenching sob.
"I love you! I love you! I love you, please, I love you, please just don't
make me go underwater again, I love you, I love you, I swear it!"
As she sobbed, unable to look at him, Paul smiled at her tightly.
"Good girl. I don't want you to forget this moment."
He glanced over her taut, slick body, chained into immobility, and smiled
again.
"Ana, as a reward for being a good girl, I'm going to allow you an orgasm."
Hope burned anew in her eyes, although she tried to mask the emotion that
swept over her. She wanted -- needed -- an orgasm, desperately.
Paul smiled to himself. She'd have an orgasm before the night was over, but
somehow he doubted that she'd enjoy it.
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