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Tuesday: 5’4”
I awoke, feeling well-rested and refreshed. I faced the usual disappointment of finding the world around me slightly larger. I had to stoop down a bit more than before to get off the bed. I walked over to the scale and weighed myself at 122 lbs. Whoa. I had lost 100 lbs in 8 days with my incredible shrinking diet. And, looking in the mirror, I could have sworn that I looked younger again. I noticed this a couple days ago, but now it was even more pronounced. I had less of a stubble to shave, and my face looked more youthful. I didn’t mind looking younger; I guess there’s a silver lining there.
I found a note on the kitchen table from Kyra. It simply said, “Gym, today, 4:30 pm SHARP,” with the last word underlined for emphasis. That was kinda rude, I thought. But surprisingly I didn’t get angry. Maybe I should get off work early, I thought. Maybe Kyra deserves it – she was just so wonderful and nice to me last night. Actually, I couldn’t quite remember what happened after my shower, but I just knew that Kyra was especially sweet and loving. That settles it: I’ll pick her up on time today.
It wasn’t a problem to ask for the time off; I just said it was for some additional testing at the doctor’s. Speaking of which, I called the doctor’s office but the results wouldn’t be in until maybe tomorrow, but probably later. ‘Two days at the latest, my ass,’ I thought. That doctor was pissing me off.
At 4:00 I left work. I wanted to make sure to be there on time to surprise her. Getting there early, I went inside to watch. She was like a whole different player than the one I saw last week. At least the blowout last night was partly due to her improvement, not just my shrinking. She was very good, even dominant, playing with her teammates. She looked to be the best player on the floor. I was proud.
As she walked up after practice, I beamed. “Hi, Kyra, here I am!”
“Hi, Dad, let’s go.” I was hoping she would be pleasantly surprised to see me; instead, it seemed as though she merely expected me to be there. I even offered her the keys, hoping to get a reaction from her, but she just grabbed them and walked out.
Catching up to her, I said, “You were amazing out there, I can’t believe how good you’ve gotten, and so quickly too.”
“You saw me play last night, didn’t you?” she said flatly, reminding me of the Monday Massacre.
Undeterred, I asked, “So how’s the team going? They gonna bump you up to Varsity soon?”
“They already did.” What, really? I gave a confused look. She told me, “JV and Varsity practice together until summer. That’s why I was playing with the same group.” Wow. She was now the best female basketball player in the whole school.
“Really? That’s great, honey! But why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t think of it.” She turned on the radio. I was saddened that she didn’t include me at all in her successes. Especially basketball; I mean, I was the one who nudged her towards basketball the most.
Getting home, she looked at the clock. “Now you can’t claim ‘not having time’ as an excuse to make a crappy dinner. You have over an hour, and I hope to see a drastic improvement in your cooking.” Why was she being so bossy? I was just trying to make her happy.
“I don’t have any recipe books,” I said.
“Go online. There are tons of recipes there.”
“Sure, honey, no problem,” I replied, eager to please her.
She disappeared into her room until 6:00. Meanwhile, I tried to find a good recipe online, but the real problem was a lack of ingredients. I spent 15 minutes searching until I decided to just go with a ham, cheese, and potato casserole since we had those around. 45 minutes, plenty of time. I peeled the potatoes and started boiling them. I hadn’t realized it would take this long, though. As I continued preparing the meal, I found out more and more that cooking generally doesn’t go as quickly and smoothly as you might think. I don’t know where these recipes get the ‘estimated preparation time’ from, but it seemed wise to double it as a general rule. Sooner or later, I realized that I was never going to finish by 6:00. Darn, I really wanted to have it ready for Kyra.
Again, promptly at 6:00, she came down the stairs. She had on the infamous black dress, that first dress she tried on in the store. And, of course, those 4-inch heels. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded, walking up to me with her hands on her hips. God, she was huge.
“I’m sorry, Kyra, I really tried but it’s just taking longer than I expected,” I pleaded. “Please don’t be mad.”
She glared down at me, not reacting to my supplications. I couldn’t believe how big she was now. As I looked down, I saw that her waist was about chest-high on me. And her breasts – wow, they were staring at me straight ahead. Jesus, just look at them …
“What the hell do you think you are doing!” she yelled, clenching her hand under my jaw and forcing me to look up at her. Her fingers were digging into my skin.
I started to tremble. “I – I’m sorry, I was just seeing how tall you were, and, and—“
“And you just thought you would gawk at your daughter’s breasts, is that it?” she asked with acrimony.
“Please, Kyra, I didn’t mean to!”
“Oh? I think you absolutely meant to. You haven’t been able to take your eyes off them all week. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” She paused for a moment, then a wicked grin crept onto her face. She towed me over to the wall, the same one that had the height marks. She rougly pressed me against the wall and started inching her body closer. “Do you like my breasts, Dad?”
“Kyra, you’re my daughter, I would never--”
“Answer my question.”
“Honey, what are you doing? You’re a little too close.” I hoped she would relent.
She just kept coming, her impressive cleavage about to touch my nose. I squirmed, trying to wriggle free, but her hand held my chin tight, and her other hand was pressing hard into my chest. “Let me go!” I exclaimed.
With an evil grin, she pulled herself forward, plunging my face firmly into her bosom. She released my chin and moved her hand to the back of my head. Grabbing a fistful of hair, she pulled my head in tighter.
I tried to yell. All that came out was, “Mmphh hrmph mmrrphh.” I could feel her chest vibrate as she laughed evilly. I was completely crammed in between her two gigantic melons. The soft, pliable flesh formed a tight seal around my face. I realized I couldn’t breathe, and I began to panic. I started thrashing around and ended up hitting her in the shoulder.
I was yanked out. “You hit me, you son of a bitch! Ohh, you’re gonna get it later. Stop thrashing about, or I’ll make your life a living hell!” I was scared shitless. This wasn’t punishment enough? What would she do to me later? I tried resisting, but with superior strength and leverage, she pulled me back in. I realized I forgot to take a deep breath. Oh boy, was I in trouble. I stood there, motionless as she requested, and tried not to think of how good her heaving bosom felt. Because it did seem to be heaving; was she breathing hard? Surely, she wasn’t giving much physical exertion. She wasn’t … getting turned on by this, was she? I didn’t have much longer to contemplate this, though, as I was quickly running out of air. I tried keeping still, but panic started kicking in, and I started groping about.
“STOP MOVING,” Her voice boomed through her chest. I immediately dropped my hands. Even though I was out of oxygen, I fought the urge to struggle, realizing it would only make it worse. I started to feel dizzy and saw stars by the time she pulled me out. She looked down at her chest. “Ew, you slobbered on me! Clean it up!”
She released me and I stumbled to the floor. “Move it,” she commanded. I stood up, still wobbly, and got a paper towel. I came back over and hesitated. “Now.” She pointed at her breasts. I wiped them up as best I could, although they were still a little sticky. “So gross. You will not slobber on me next time, understand?” I nodded vigorously. Next time? “Now, where were we? Ah yes, you were telling me what you thought of my breasts.”
I was about to cry. Why was she doing this? “Well?” she said sternly.
“Um … they’re nice, I guess.”
“Nice? You guess? You’ll have to do better than that.”
She leaned forward and pressed her arms together, squeezing her cleavage together. She noticed that my gaze was still locked up to her eyes. Chuckling, she said, “Very good. Now you may look at them.” She tilted my head down. She then proceeded to undulate her body seductively. She gently brushed her tits up and down and around my face. I was shaking uncontrollably. Where did she learn to move like that? “I’m still waiting.”
“They’re very nice.”
“Yesss, very nice. Go on.” She was clearly getting aroused. She then brought her left boob up to my face and pressed it into me. I gasped. Did she gasp, too? My lips felt her nipple hardening.
“They’re … fantastic. I’ve never seen any like it,” I answered truthfully.
“Mmmm, that’s more like it, Daddy. Now I’ll just have to check something.” A moment later I felt something grasp my raging hardon. She gasped as loudly as me this time. “Well, well, it seems you were telling the truth about me and my breasts.” I grabbed her hand and forced it away. “My, my, aren’t we feisty?”
My eyes started watering. She pulled away and told me with a sly grin, “We’ll continue our playtime after dinner.” I didn’t like the sound of that. As she sat down I teetered over to the oven. Tears were rolling down my cheek. I pulled out the casserole, dished some out onto two plates, and, maintaining my composure as much as possible, placed the plates on the table and sat down.
“Hmm…” she looked at it. “It looks pretty good, but you burned it. Don’t let that happen again.”
I was about to protest that there’s no way I could have helped that as she was molesting me. But from her sharp gaze I realized that she was testing me. “Sorry, I won’t.” I hung my head.
I kept my head down, staring at my plate the entire dinner. I reflected on how she had just treated me. And I remembered her mentioning more punishment, and more ‘playtime’ after dinner. I had no choice but to try to put an end to this immediately. As soon as dinner is over, I thought.
We had finished eating. “Clean up in here, then meet me on the couch,” she ordered.
“No.” I stood up, put my hands on my hips, took a deep breath, and stared down at her resolutely. Though it may well be the death of me, I had to make a stand here and now before things spiraled even more out of control. “This ends now. I’m still your father, and you’ll do as I say.”
She raised her eyebrow and said, “Oh?” With a dark voice, she added, “I would think twice about that if I were you.”
“Kyra, come to the living room. You’re getting another spanking, and this time I won’t be so gentle!”
She eyed me with surprise. As I walked to the couch, I saw her taking off her heels then get up and follow me. Taking a deep breath, I hoped this would work. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she questioned, peering down at me.
“Across my lap, pants down. You know the drill.” She shrugged as if to say, ‘Well, I warned you,’ but went along with it. As she laid her heavy body across my legs, I started to worry. I was 6 inches shorter than the last time I spanked her; would she even feel this? Her midsection filled my lap completely, and it was almost comical seeing such a short man spanking a much taller girl. But, I was determined. I gave it all I had. After about 10 loud smacks, she taunted, “Did you start spanking me yet?” There was no strain in her voice, no plea to stop like last time. I continued. “I think a fly might have just bitten me on the ass.” She was enjoying this way too much. Getting tired, I decided to stop and try the belt treatment.
“Get up,” I told her gruffly.
She did, and told me with mock concern, “Look, Daddy, your hand is all red. Did you hurt yourself?”
“That does it!” I angrily got up to take off my belt.
“No, Dad, I think you’ve had enough fun for today,” she told me.
“Bend over!” I yelled up at her.
“No,” she declared. Fine, I’ll just have to make her bend over then. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her down like before. Except this time she didn’t budge. I started yanking her forward but she pulled me back. We started a tussle. She would pull, and I would pull back just as hard. I was able to match her move for move as we vied for position.
After about 2 minutes of this, though, she stated simply, “OK, I’ve had enough.” Then, to my amazement, her arms suddenly surged backward with amazing strength, yanking my frail body off my feet to send me crashing to the ground. In a split second she was on top of me and pinning my arms back. Where the hell did that come from!? I had thought I was winning! She wasn’t … toying with me the entire time, was she!?
She was laying down on top of me, her face inches from mine. I continued to struggle, but she had a firm hold of my wrists and easily pulled them up over my head. She was clearly stronger than me now. After letting me squirm for a few seconds, she said sternly, “Stop struggling.” I realized I had no choice but to comply. She just lay on top of me, staring daggers for what seemed like an eternity, and although I was intensely uncomfortable I remained still as a statue out of terror. Finally, she broke the silence by saying, “You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
I felt utterly helpless. There was no escape. She could do whatever she wanted with me at that point. I started to sob. She just peered down at me, watching my reaction. Finally, she asked, “Am I still grounded, Dad?”
My eyes welled up even more. “No.”
“Can I wear whatever I want?”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“Are you going to be a good boy, now?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Now who is the head of the house?”
“You are, Kyra.”
“Good. And don’t forget it.” She stood and pulled me up with her, now strong enough to lift my entire 121 lb frame without my help.
She held my chin up. “Now, I want you to get all your chores done and then go to bed.”
“What chores?”
“All of them, of course.”
“But I never do the chores.”
She cocked her eyebrow. I replied hastily, “OK, I’ll do them.”
“Good boy. But first, I think I have decided what your punishment will be.” She sat on the couch and pulled me down with her. I tried to resist her but after an embarrassingly brief struggle I found myself laying face-down across her lap. “Pants down,” she ordered.
“Kyra, honey, what are you doing? This isn’t right.”
“Remember, I’m the head of the household now and I know what’s best for you.” She helped me pull them down. After a few tense seconds, I felt a sharp sting on my ass. “Ow!” I yelped. And then another, and another, each one harder than the last. “Kyra, please – Ow! – Please stop!” I begged. Jesus Christ, she could hit! I was learning what it was like to get spanked by someone bigger than me, and I didn’t like having the tables turned one bit. I started struggling.
“Stop moving, or you’ll get more!” I kept still and took her punishment. She kept going for way longer than I did to her. The longer it went, the more my bottom stung and the worse each blow became. Finally, she stopped and said, “That was for trying to spank me just now.” I started to get up but was assaulted with three more devastating blows on my bare ass. “This is for hitting me earlier.” Another three blows. I couldn’t take much more. I had since stopped yelling and started sobbing. “And this is for burning the casserole.” A few more slaps. Fortunately she was lenient on this one, probably considering it wasn’t even my fault.
When she was done, she simply pushed me off her knees and dumped me on the ground. “Now go do your chores.” She sat in my recliner and turned on the TV as I slowly pulled my pants up and walked away, wincing from the pain.
It took me well over an hour to do them, partly because I hadn’t done chores in so long, and partly because it hurt to walk too fast. But finally I finished up and nervously trudged up to her, saying in a meek voice, “Kyra, my chores are done.”
“Are you sure? You had better have done a good job.”
I hesitated, but I knew I did them as well as I knew how. “Yes, Kyra.”
She got up. “Follow me.” She went around the house, inspecting every nook and cranny. “What is this? You didn’t clean the mirror.”
“Oh, I forgot.” How could I remember what all the chores were?
She continued, “This shelf is dusty. And you need to vacuum better.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Well, there’s plenty more that needs improvement, but since it’s your first day I’ll be lenient. Go fix the things I told you and see me when you are done.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Daaaddee, when I’m nice to you, you need to thank me.”
“Yes, dear. I mean, thank you dear.”
“Go on then.” It took me another 15 minutes, but when I was sure those things were spotless I came back to her. “Do I need to check them, or did you do them right this time?” she asked condescendingly.
“I did them right, I promise.”
“Well, OK then.” Grabbing my wrist and twisting it to see my watch, she said, “It’s 9:20. From now on I want you to finish your chores earlier so you can be in bed by 9:00.”
“Yes, Kyra.”
“Go brush your teeth and I’ll meet you upstairs.” Why was she going upstairs? I did as she commanded, and when I had finished brushing I found her standing in my room. She approached and said, “Arms up.” What was this about? She reached out to pull my shirt up. As I was looking down to see what she was doing, I caught a mind-boggling display of her cleavage, still propped up beautifully in her skimpy dress. Shit! She didn’t see me did she? Apparently not. She lifted the shirt over my head then started unbuttoning my pants.
“Kyra, I can do this myself.” She didn’t respond, simply pulling them down around my ankles. She grabbed each ankle one at a time to pull the pants through. Then she stood up and started pulling down my boxers! “Kyra! No! Please, let me keep these on!” I begged.
“Hmm, well, I suppose that’s OK.” She paused. “Daddy,” she said impatiently.
“What … oh. Thank you.” It didn’t seem fair to have to thank my daughter for not stripping me naked.
I was expecting her to take me to bed, but instead she pressed me into her in a tight hug. Fortunately not as tight as earlier, plus with her heels off my face was on her shoulders, instead of buried in her bosom. “We’ve had a big day, haven’t we?” she gleamed. “I’m glad to see that things are finally how they should be.” She started swaying her hips from side to side. Her hips gradually picked up the pace, and I could hear her breathing quicken. “You were so funny today, squirming around in my chest. It felt good, too.” Uh-oh. Danger, Will Robinson. Still holding me firmly, she pushed me towards the bed until we fell on, her on top. Now she was grinding herself on me, using my upper thigh to provide friction for her … nether-regions.
“Kyra, honey, you don’t know what you’re doing! This isn’t right!” I was starting to get frantic.
“Mmm, good Daddy, keep squirming.” She was getting off on her new power over me. With horror, I could do nothing but lay still as she worked her hips up and down my thigh. “You tiny, pathetic little man. I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. Oh, God, yes …” She was drunk with power and arousal.
“No, Kyra!” I yelled desperately. But she was too far gone to pay me any attention. Her breathing turned to panting as her rhythm picked up. She started moaning, louder and louder, until with a final push on my thigh, she orgasmed violently, clenching her legs painfully around mine and writhing in the throes of ecstasy.
She continued to hold me tight as her breathing slowed. I could not believe what just happened. “Oh my God, Daddy, that was wonderful!” she panted. “I’ve made myself come before, but never like that,” she purred, caressing my face. God, no. The first sexual encounter of her young life was with her father. And she forced him to do it, too.
Hopelessly trapped by her arms and legs, I could do nothing but lie under her as she continued to stroke my cheek and stare down at me dominantly, possessively. Any illusions I had had of being able to control my daughter were now out gone. And it was clear that she would continue to exert her dominance over me, even sexually, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.
She grasped my jaw firmly in her strong hand as her mouth descended onto mine. She gave me a strong, forceful kiss on the lips, then she got up, turned the lights off, and shut the door.
My life was in tatters. Just a couple days ago I had her completely in line. Now all of a sudden she had all the power. And she didn’t mind abusing it, either. As I thought back to the horrors of the day I curled up into a ball and cried myself to sleep.