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Subject: {ASSM} Carmen Learns the Subway (M/f F/F) (incest, nc, D/s, light S/M, some plot development)
Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2002 20:10:02 -0500
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     Carmen Learns the SubWay Part 1, by Master Z.

    "You need discipline!" was my father's thunderous announcement to
me, my sister and my mom, although it was directed towards me.
     "No! Daddy, please," I sobbed, noticing he was taking off his black
leather belt, looking at me with a feral sense of duty, "Don't do that!"
     "Carmen, " Daddy said evenly as he stared down upon me, "You know
what to do."  I looked up at him as tears welled up in my eyes in
anticipation of the stinging pain that would soon afflict me.  My sister
backed away towards the darker end of the living room, watching me with
sympathy and envy.  My mom had been screaming at Daddy the entire time
but everyone was used to just tuning her out because we knew there was
nothing she could do.  The reason, of course, was because she never
really wanted to do anything about it.  Whenever I was punished like
this, it was because I deserved it.   Mom left before the ritual began,
like she always did.   I later realized why this time she never came
back.
     "Stop stalling Carmen.  This is going to hurt me more than-"
     "Daddy, don't say that please," I said with just a hint  of
annoyance, still crying.  I'm sure my sister was smiling in the
darkness.
     "Carmen just take off your clothes and we can get this over with,"
Daddy said without anger.  I started to gingerly remove my shirt and my
bra, while facing away from Daddy.  Then I slowly removed my jeans and
panties at the same time, sticking my ass out as I did.  I guess I did
it to please Daddy so he would be more gentle with me.  It's not like I
thought of him, you know, in a sexual way, but I felt like I needed to
do something - anything - to try to alleviate the humiliation of
stripping down naked in front of my father and sister.  I hate to admit
this but doing that helped me to deal with it better because it turned
me on a little. Also I had been doing this since I was little and was
used to the ritual.  He never made me turn around, thankfully.
     I got on my knees and bent over, sticking my round butt cheeks up
into the air.  Just a few seconds later, the rush of air followed by a
smacking belt-whip to my ass shattered my world.  I was never prepared
for it.  Then the questions and answers started.
     "Are you a bad girl?"  Daddy said calmy but menacingly.
     "Yes, Daddy, I am a very bad girl."  Then I braced myself, eyes
slammed shut, for another stinging leather blast to my ass.  The
slapping sound always made a tiny echo in the living room.
     "Are you going to be a good girl from now on young lady?"
     "Yes, Daddy, I promise I will be so good from now on, I'm so
sorry!"  SMACK!  That one hit me right across my ass crack, sending a
tiny reverberation to my pussy.  Tears streamed down my face from the
burning pain, yet at the same time my pussy started to get wet.  This
usually happened and I don't think he ever noticed.  One of my greatest
fears was that I would have an orgasm while getting whipped with Daddy's
belt.
     "Are you going to do as I say and obey me?"
     "Yes, of course Daddy, I love you and I would never betray you!"
And so it went, a few more exchanges like this interspersed with a
mind-numbing bite from that powerful leather snake.  It was usually only
seven or eight times and my ass always felt fine after a few days.  I
would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it a little, cause I did.  And
even though the pain could be unbearable at times, I always deserved to
be punished and I mean that.  I was getting into drugs and hanging out
with guys who stole cars and they let me drive them before I had my
license,
among many other things.   I was going through my teenage rebellion
phase.  I later realized that the only reason I did those things was to
be punished by Daddy.  But I still wasn't quite ready to admit that yet.

     That was when I was fifteen, I'm twenty-four now.   Daddy passed
away from prostrate cancer a year ago and I feel that now is the time to
try to relate my story and possibly come to terms with what transpired
in the past.  First of all, I don't want to give you the wrong
impression of my father.  He was a great man.  He never reacted out of
anger or resentment, he never hit my mom and he only whipped me with the
leather belt a dozen times in my life.  Every other memory I have of him
is that he was nothing but the kindest, wisest, and loving father a girl
could ever ask for.  This story is not going to include all the special
or funny or heroic moments I experienced with him growing up, but I
assure you they were plentiful.
     That being said, I was never really that close with my mom, like my
older sister was.  I was Daddy's little girl; she was Mom's spoiled
brat.  Well that's the way I used to look at it.  I recently had a
revealing discussion with her about our mom over lunch.  After talking
about guys and movies and our jobs, we got more personal all of a
sudden.  I'm not entirely sure why but I think because this was close to
the anniversery of Daddy's death.
     My sister looked at me with somber yet sweet eyes and I felt as
though she was getting a glimpse into my soul.  She looked so pretty,
with her
curly brown hair, green eyes, and succulent lips, all features which
were mirrored in my face.  In fact I always likened her as an older,
prettier version of myself.  I looked down at the table, away from her
probing gaze, at our crumb laden plates and our second glass of wine
each.
Then I realized I had nothing to be ashamed of.  I knew what she was
going to ask me but I decided to go first.
     "What is the real reason Mom left?"
     She smiled. "You mean you don't believe 'That man found a-' " and I
finished with her, reciting Mom's favorite excuse for the divorce, "
'young blonde girl to dip his wick into!' "  We immediately starting
laughing and she touched my hand.  And it was true; Daddy cheated on our
mom with a young blonde girl who was no younger than we are now.  We are
unsure how long it had been going on or even how much longer it lasted
after our parents had separated, but we certainly had the visual
evidence in our minds from when we walked in on them in the bedroom.
I'll never forget the sight of this gorgeous woman bent over naked on
the bed, getting spanked by the powerful masculine hand of my father in
leather pants, and their looks of embarrassment when they saw us
standing there.  We left and we never brought the subject up with Daddy,
nor did he ever mention it to us.  Occassionally my sister and I would
discover various "paraphernalia" that we didn't quite understand:
handcuffs, a whip, and once we found drops of dried candle wax on the
rug in the living room.  If only Mom knew just how right she was.
     After the laugh subsided, my sister didn't remove her hand when she
softly asked, "You know why Dad used to punish you, right?"  I removed
my hand and put it on my lap with my other one and my face burned bright
red.  I knew that it was inevitable that we would have to talk about it
eventually but I just wasn't ready.  At least not in a restaurant and
not before several more glasses of wine.
     "Melanie!" I said pleadingly.
     She sighed. "What's the problem Carmen?  Don't be so naive.  I
think we both know how much you enjoyed it," she smirked and took a sip
of wine.
     I wanted to leave but I just couldn't.  I looked right at her and
said, "I didn't enjoy it..." and I paused.  I continued shamefully with
"...that much." and I looked down again. I felt her hand on my arm.
     "It's ok sweetie." she said gently.  I looked up at her and saw the
sincerity in her face.  Then she looked down and started to blush a
little herself when she said, "I kind of... enjoyed it too."
     I was suprised even though I secretly knew that about her.  "You
mean watching?"
     "Yes," she replied.  She had never once been punished.  Always the
good girl, or at least always protected by our mom.   We stopped talking
when the waiter arrived and we ordered another glass of wine.  Then
Melanie took a deep breath in preparation of what she was going to tell
me.  "Mom was, for lack of better words, not very adventurous in bed.  I
don't think she was bad, per se, but, well you know what I mean."  She
looked at me for reassurance.
     "I'm not sure I do," I said cautiously.  "And how do you know
this?"
     "Simple.  She told me."
     "When?"
     "Last year after the funeral."  She looked at me guiltily.  "I'm
sorry."
     "For what?"
     "For not telling you sooner."  I was starting to get confused.
     I said, "Not telling me what?  That Mom was bad in bed?"  Then I
looked around  at a few more sideways glances then I would have
preferred.  My sister snickered and covered her mouth when I shot her an
evil look.  The wine was starting to go to our heads and we decided to
leave.


     We giggled about it in the car and forgot about the conversation
until a week later when I went over to her apartment to watch a movie.
After it was over, the conversation resumed:
     "So you were saying about Mom at lunch last week?" I asked.
Melanie stood still and looked at me for a second.  Then she lifted up
her hand and said, "Hold on," and went into the kitchen.  She returned
with two glasses and a bottle of wine.
     After sitting with our wine for a minute she finally said, "Dad
wasn't satisfied with Mom."  I could tell that this was going to take a
while.
     "So you hinted last week," I said,"Tell me more."
     "OK," Melanie paused as she thought about how to tactfully explain
this.  "Remember when we caught Daddy with that blonde lady?"
     "Yes, how could I forget?"
     "This is awkward to even think about, but our father was
into....alternative lifestyles.  As in BDSM, you know, D/s."
     I looked at her in surprise.  "What?  You mean like whips and
chains and...."  Melanie widened her eyes and looked at me like I was a
mentally challenged child.
     "Don't you remember finding the handcuffs?  And the blonde, what
was her name, Carol?  He was wearing leather and spanking her!"  I was
still a little unconvinced that Daddy could be like that, but it made
alot of sense.  I was starting to realize that I just wasn't willing to
admit it to myself  during all this time.
     I still protested anyways, "Spanking's not that bad!  I have been
spanked by guys before in bed!"
     "Listen, Mom told me everything.  We stayed up all night after the
funeral and talked.  Dad led a double life, only it wasn't so double
when he took his belt out on you."  I felt outrage and my face flushed
but Melanie's voice calmed me a little with, "I'm sorry honey, but you
wanted to know." She looked at me with sympathetic eyes.  "Daddy was
using you to play out his -"
     "Stop!" I said.
     Her voice raised a little as she continued "-latent fantasies
because Mom wasn't going to do it and that's why he needed Carol-"
     "Stop!" I yelled in anguish, "You say it like it was ok for him to
cheat on Mom!"
     "I didn't say it was OK, Carmen!" Melanie replied with a snotty
older sister tone, "But Mom basically gave them their blessing because
she wanted him to be happy and she didn't know what else to do.
Besides, she knew that he was just getting his jollies off on you, and
she wanted that to stop.  That's why she left that night."  Melanie came
over to sit on the couch with me.  Then she said in a more relaxed tone,
"But ultimately she realized that she couldn't handle having another
woman in the picture and that's when she decided to end it."
     I sat there in astonishment and digested everything that had been
said.  Finally I looked at her and said, "What the hell is D/s?"
     "What?"
     "You said D/s before."
     "That's Dominance/submission.  Like a Master/slave relationship."
I sort of knew what she was talking about, but she could see that I was
mostly clueless.   She explained it in more detail, how the slave must
obey the Master at all time, usually to do the Master's sexual bidding,
among other things, and that if the slave fails to obey, the Master may
punish the slave through various means.  We continued discussing it for
an hour.  It all sounded very erotic and new to me.
     After thinking about it in silence I finally said, "Are you trying
to tell me that Daddy was treating me like his slave?  That he was my
Master?"
     "Well, yeah stupid!" she smiled, "And you LOVED it and don't even
tell me you didn't!"  We had been drinking wine for two hours now and
Melanie's words were flowing freely and I was getting easily agitated
with them.
     "I did NOT!"  I said angrily, smacking her arm.
     "Yes you did sis, I remember the last time it happened.  You didn't
think I was there but I was sitting on the stairs listening to the whole
thing."  I was mortified.  She was, of course, talking about when I was
sixteen, a year after the whipping that I related to you at the
beginning of this story, the very last time Daddy had ever punished me.
I hadn't thought about it in detail since it happened and I didn't want
to start thinking about it now.  Melanie continued, her voice dripping
with husky venom, "I remember the lights were off in the living room
when he ripped your clothes off, I heard you say, "No, Daddy, don't rip
my clothes, please!' "  This last part she mockingly said in a
high-pitched innocent schoolgirl voice.  And it was true; I had said
that.  I looked at Melanie and I slapped her face but she caught my hand
just in time and said, "Then I could hear your clothes tearing and I
could hear you crying and saying you were 'sorry Daddy,' and then he
commanded you to get on your hands and knees."  She was still holding my
arm and I was frozen as the memory flooded back into my brain, the pain
and pleasure of the experience overwhelming my senses once again.  She
grabbed my other arm and continued, "Then I heard the belt smacking your
butt, loud and hard and he told you to stick your butt out farther." 
And then she looked right into my eyes, which were tearing up and I
think that snapped her cold demeanor a little because she hugged me.
"And then he said it again." I slowly started to hug her back and I
started crying, just like I had cried that night when Daddy forcefully
ripped my clothes off in the darkness.  There was just enough light
coming through the window from the streetlight for him to see my naked
body, the only whipping I wasn't turned around the entire time.  My
pussy started to get wet as I thought about it, still crying into my
sister's shoulder. I could feel her warm breath on my ear when she said,
"And then the sound of the whipping changed to soft, rapid hits on your
ass." Her
voice was bittersweet now.  She sounded like she was getting aroused.
"And the rapid little whips continued until the crying subsided and you
started to moan lightly."
     "Mel, please stop," I sobbed, but the memory was making me so
horny.   I didn't want it too because it was wrong and just wish it had
never happened!
     "It's ok, sweetie," she said, stroking my hair, "I was listening
and it was really turning me on."  Her voice was breathy and deep; it
was obvious how excited this was making her.  I felt like she was
hugging me a little too close but I really appreciated the comfort of
her closeness because I felt so guilty about having an orgasm as a
result of Daddy whipping me.  Melanie's voice was mezmerizing now.  "And
you started to moan louder and louder, and I could still hear the whip,
which must have been slapping against your pussy, and I was rubbing my
own soaking pussy as you started to cum from Daddy's whip."  Her hands
were slowly caressing my back and I could feel her lips on my neck.  It
felt good, her kissing my neck like this, but I really felt wrong.  I
had never been attracted to women, not to mention my own sister!  But
she continued to whisper hotly into my ear: "Your moaning sounded so
sexy,"  she breathed, and I felt her hand on my thigh, her thumb
pressing against the front of my pants, enough to make me moan a little
in spite of myself.
     "Stop, Mel," I said unconvincingly, "Please."  But she persisted,
kissing my neck and ear some more and gently pressing with her other
hand against my hard nipples, which were poking through the thin fabric
of my blouse.  It all felt so wonderful and wrong at the same time.
"Please Mel, you need to stop," I moaned girlishly as she pressed down
on my pussy again, and she released my head from her shoulders and we
were face to face.  She started to kiss me but I moved away, saying,
"I'm just not comfortable with this.  This isn't right, I mean I felt
guilty enough about Daddy and..."
     "And that makes your pussy wet, doesn't it baby?" She said,
revealing sides of her I had never seen, "It turns you on that it was so
naughty doesn't it?"  And it did, I was so wet that I just wanted to get
myself off right then and there.  Instead, Mel grabbed my head and
started kissing me passionately and I kissed her back, wrapping my arms
around her back and shoving my tongue as deep into her mouth as I
could.  We moaned and made slippery sounds with our mouths and tongues,
breathing hot and heavy.  Instinctively we removed eachother's shirts.
Neither of us were wearing a bra and our bare breasts and hard nipples
pressed against eachother as we tongue kissed more.  Then she grabbed my
arms and pushed me back against the couch to get on top of me.  She was
a little stronger than I and if I struggled she would probably be able
to hold me down.
     "You don't know how long I have wanted to do this," Melanie
suddenly admonished with a burning intensity.  "Ever since that night I
heard you cum, I have secretly fantasized about fucking you."  Her
vulgarity took me by surprise and I felt really dirty.  I watched her
full, wet lips tremble as she spoke to me and fondled my breasts..   Her
curls closed in on her face, creating shadows and making her look
sinister and controlling.  I was a little scared, yet I was incredibly
aroused at the same time.
     "I bet you wanted to fuck him," She said darkly, "You wanted
him to take his cock and ram it deep inside you, didn't you slut?"  Her
voice was menacing and calm, just like Daddy's used to be.  I didn't
like it.
     "Mel, shut up," I squirmed under the strength of her arms and she
applied more force, pushing me deeper into the couch cushions.  I was
helpless.  Her legs pinned down mine with relative ease.
     "You wanted to fuck him didn't you Carmen?"
     "No, Mel, Stop it!  You're hurting me and I want to leave now. Let
me go!"  I was starting to snap out of it as I realized what was
happened.  I was committing lesbian incest with my own sister and
enjoying it!  This was totally wrong and I had to leave but I couldn't
escape her grip.
     "Did you want to fuck Daddy, Carmen?"  She continued, her voice
dripping with desire and ridicule.
     "No, I never did that!"  I yelled.
     "I didn't say you did, but I know you wanted to!" Her voice
increased in volume.  "You wanted to feel his rock hard erection fucking
your wet little twat from behind. You were hoping all those times that
he stuck his hard prick deep into your little cunt and fucked you hard
and fast until you moaned like a
little bitch!  Isn't that right little sister?  Isn't that right my
little slut?"
     "No! Shut up!" I wailed.  I was crying again but I couldn't avoid
the vision of Daddy's cock entering me while I was on my hands and
knees, dutifully sticking my virgin ass out for his pleasure.  I was
soaking through my panties.
     "Daddy's little slut," she continued, and she fastened her fingers
into my pants and pulled them off in one powerful, swift motion,
catching my panties as well.  I was naked and vulnerable in front of
her.
     "No!!!" I screamed, slapping and kicking.  She ended that quick
with a hard smack from both hands onto my breasts.
     "Stop struggling!" She commanded, and I just lay there in shock,
obeying submissively like I did for Daddy when he whipped my bare ass.
"Get onto the floor!" She barked, and she slapped my tear-covered face
when I tried to object.  When I was on the floor she commanded me to
spread my legs, which I did.  I could smell my own heady scent which had
resulted from the incredible arousal I had been experiencing at varying
levels all night.
     She started to touch my slick wetness in between my legs and it was
instantly gratifying after not being with a man for almost a year.  I
just let her play with my pussy, shutting my eyes and moaning as she
finger fucked my soaking wet cunt.  "You wanted to suck Daddy's cock,
didn't you, slut?"  And I tensed up a little when an image of my mouth
wrapped around Daddy's cock flashed into my brain and seemed all too
vivid.  But her fingers persisted on my clit and my pussy, making me
start to cum.
     "Didn't you, whore?"  She asked again, more harshly.
     "Yes," I moaned.
     "Yes, what?"
     "Yes... I wanted to suck Daddy's cock, I wanted to feel his hard
cock fucking my mouth."  The words spilled off of my lips, surprising me
and making me drip all over Mel's carpet.
     "You wanted him to cum all over your face, didn't you fuck slave?"
Mel's voice was downright nasty right now as she finger-fucked me into a
frenzy.  Once again a vivid image of Daddy's cum spewing out onto my
nose and my lips and dripping down my neck and onto my breasts filled my
head and I moaned in ecstacy as I came.  Mel dove into my cunt with her
face just at the right time and she let me fuck her face with all I had,
grabbing her head and cumming hard as my pussy juices flowed with each
spasm, dripping off onto her lips and face.  But she didn't stop
licking, and she licked and sucked my pussy and my asshole and my clit,
tongue fucking me until I came several more times.  It was so
incredible.  Eventually my body relaxed into light spasms and soft moans
as I tried to recover from this unforgetable, orgasmic experience.  She
kissed my pussy one last time and licked a path from my pubic hair,
across my
belly button, between my breasts and up to my chin.  She stopped at my
lips where she slithered her tongue between them and I tasted the strong
flavor of my cum juice on her tongue and I sucked it into my mouth,
sitting up and kissing her with reckless abandon.
     "Stay right there, sis," she said.  Then she turned around
and got on her hands and knees, putting her ass and pussy right in my
face.  I had never even seen a girl from this angle up close before, not
to mention never having eaten pussy before!  "I want you to stick your
tongue up my ass right now slave," she said, surprising me and making me
feel like a naughty girl who should obey.  In a lustful trance, my pussy
still
throbbing from the wonderful head I had received, I pointed my tongue
out and  pushed it against her dark asshole.  It tasted sweaty, primal,
and musky.  Melanie moaned softly and femininely.  It sounded so sweet
and beautiful I just had to make her sound like that some more.  I
pressed my tongue in deep and the tip pushed through her closed anus.
More soft, sweet moans.  Tucking her head in towards my thighs, she bent
her body so that her ass stuck out and her crack opened up even more. 
My pussy tingled as I felt the exquisite sensation of my sister's lips
kissing my clit as she moaned.  I wiggled my tongue in deeper, pulling
her ass closer to my face, and I started to slide it in and out slowly. 
I was rewarded with an abundance of soft, breathy, girlish moans that
felt warm against my clit.  As I continued to tongue her asshole, I
improvised and pressed against her clit with my fingers.  That produced
much more deeper and louder moans.  Then I
started to lick and suck her asshole and pussy like she had done to me,
and she moaned and came several times, rocking her ass back and forth
against my face.  Her pussy tasted so different and so naughty, I just
loved it.
     After we were finished we retired to the bedroom and lay on her
bed, cuddling and kissing like former lovers rekindling an old flame.
It didn't seem awkward.  We were both under a trance, a sex spell if you
will, and it carried over until we were asleep, naked, in eachother's
arms.  The next morning was an entirely different story however...

End of Part 1

By Master Z

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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