TITLE    : The Sarah Owens Story Ch. 19
STORYID  : the-sarah-owens-story-ch-19
SUMMARY  : Sarah's father makes a shocking confession.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2010-02-06
CATEGORY : taboo-sex-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |18-year-old|bdsm novela|cheerleader|bdsm drama|catholic|transsexual|shemale|spanking|incest|costume|


<i>Note: This series is based upon an idea by Sarah Owens. The characters are 18 years old or older.</i>



* * *



Max Owens was beginning to worry. He'd agreed to the extended cheerleading practice sessions, but they were supposed to end at nine o'clock. Sarah shouldn't need more than a half an hour to get home from school, but it was a quarter till ten, and she still wasn't home. It wasn't like her to be late. At one time, her tardiness would have earned her a sound spanking, while naked, to be administered either by his hand or a ride on the spanking machine he'd christened The Teeter Totter--and, he thought, this time, it might again.



Before, the mere threat of a spanking had been enough to enforce her curfew. Then, after they'd become lovers as well as merely father and daughter, Sarah had hurried home, of her own accord, to be with him. Even with his wife, Marlene, present in the house, Max and Sarah had found a time and place to be alone together. Marlene seemed to suspect nothing untoward between her husband and her daughter, and, if she did, she had the good sense to keep her suspicions to herself. As long as Max wasn't making his weekly demands for sex, it seemed that Marlene was only too happy to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to the incestuous relationship taking place under her nose.



Marlene had taken a two-week vacation to Paris, going with a girlfriend, Cynthia Somebody, from the accounting department of the company for which Marlene worked. Marlene had been hesitant to ask Max's permission to go gallivanting off without him in tow, but once she'd worked up the courage to ask, which had probably taken her weeks, if not months, Max mused, he'd been only too happy to agree. With her out of the house, he and Sarah had the place to themselves, and they could make love as often as they liked, whenever they felt the urge to merge. Then, the late-night and weekend cheerleading practices had come up, and Max had been tempted to say no to his daughter. But he didn't dare. He wanted her at his side and, more importantly, at his beck and call, but it would have been too costly to deny her, so, reluctantly, he'd said yes.



Now, however, his blonde bombshell of a daughter was late, and her tardiness was more than annoying to him. He didn't like to waste one precious moment of his opportunity, especially with Marlene away for two weeks, to be with his nubile young mistress. He decided that, whether she was his girlfriend or not, Sarah was going to have her ass warmed if she weren't home by ten o'clock, which gave her less than ten minutes from now.



Making love to his daughter, having her dainty hand curled around the shaft of his mighty cock or her fingers jigging his balls; feeling her full, soft lips around his stiff, thick prick; watching his manhood vanish and reappear between her buttocks as he fucked her hard and fast up the ass; making her pussy flood itself as he gave her a tongue-lashing she couldn't endure without moaning and groaning--all these activities (and the many others in which they'd indulged) made Max feel half his age again. He felt like a kid, rather than someone who, married to a frigid wife who perhaps had lesbian tendencies--she'd gone to Paris with another woman, after all, for two weeks--was denied the opportunity to prove his virility more than once a week--a paltry fifty two times a year. He felt like a stud, robust, vigorous, potent, and masculine. His daughter had brought out the man in him.



At two minutes to ten, the doorbell rang. Max hastened to the door. When he opened it, he saw a lioness--or someone in a lioness costume--inside a wire-mesh cage atop a flatbed wagon. On a sheet of paper, taped to the front of the wagon, was a note: "Your daughter."



Max grabbed the wagon's handle and pulled the conveyance to the doorsill. Rearing back upon his heels, he pulled hard, and the front wheels climbed over the obstacle, followed by their rear counterparts. The wagon inside the foyer, Max hastily closed the front door.



Inside the cage, the lioness was making frantic mewling and whimpering sounds.



A combination lock secured the door to the cage. Poor Sarah probably thought herself doomed to spend the night in the enclosure's cramped confines, unable to stretch out or stand. Max shuddered, thinking that even an hour, to say nothing of an entire night, inside such a restricted space would be truly maddening. But he wasn't about to let that happen, not to his daughter--and his lover.



Kneeling before the cage, and looking into Sarah's frantic, beseeching eyes, Max turned the knob on the lock, left to 7, right, right to 32, and back to the left, stopping at 18. The "U"-shaped shackle parted from the body of the lock as he yanked the it downward, and he removed the lock from the hasp, opening the door to the cage.



Sarah's eyes were wide with amazement, and, inside the lioness muzzle, apparently unable to speak, she grunted and whimpered.



Max thought he could guess what she was trying to say: How had he known the lock's combination? He had some explaining to do, he knew, and he hoped that Sarah would have the good sense to understand, that she wouldn't be angry--or enraged--and that she wouldn't cut him off from her supply of pussy, as his wife had done, except for once a week.



* * *



Placing his hands upon either side of Sarah's skull, Max drew her head out of the cage. He unfastened her hood's chin strap, tossed back the cowl, and unsnapped the leather band that held the lioness muzzle in place. He pulled the ball gag free of his daughter's mouth, and Sarah gasped, sucking in a deep lungful of air. The muzzle had been stifling. All the time that she'd worn it, breathing through her nose, she'd felt as if, any moment, she might suffocate. Although she received more than enough oxygen, it felt to her as if she were barely able to breathe. She was also sweating. The costume was hot. Perspiration rolling down her brow had gotten into her eyes. With her hands inside clumsy paws, a hood pulled up, over her head, and a muzzle covering her nose and gagged mouth, she'd been unable to rub them, and her eyes stung. They were red, Max noticed.



The butt plug that anchored the lioness' thick, long tail in place was larger than most, both in length and in diameter, and it had been lodged inside Sarah's anus for hours. Her asshole, which had tightened firmly around the invader, felt hard, like steel, rather than muscle. Initially, her bowels had attempted to expel the foreign body, but, unable to pass the long, thick, hard object because of the narrow two-inch neck between much bigger bulges in its length, her rectum and anus had accepted the presence of the occupying object, and the fluttering of her anus and the spasms of her bowels had subsided hours ago.



She hadn't dared to yank the damned thing from her ass in the presence of Coach Bigg, and she'd forgotten about it while Amanda Meeks had pulled her home aboard the wagon, concerned only that she would be seen by others or maybe even stopped by the police. Besides, it would be difficult to remove the plug with her hands covered by the clumsy paws in which the sleeves of her costume ended. She would have to remove it, despite the effort it took her to do so, should she have to shit, but, otherwise, she was just too tired to attempt such a feat. Nevertheless, now that she was again aware of the presence of the object, she wanted it to be removed. It was not part of her. It felt foreign to her. At the same time, strangely enough, it seemed as if the damned thing had a mind of its own and meant to force itself upon her, to become part of her.



Worst of all, being penned up in the close quarters of the cage had been not only uncomfortable--her knees were abraded and bruised--but it had also been taxing, both emotionally and physically. Unable for the several hours during which she'd been caged to stand or to recline in anything but a fetal position, she was exhausted. She was also in a fair amount of pain. Her muscles ached, her joints were sore, and her nerves were frazzled. Her legs had lost some of their strength and flexibility, and Max had to help her, pulling her bodily from the enclosure. When Sarah tried to stand, she fell, and, had Max not been at her side to catch her, she would have fallen and possibly injured herself.



Max snatched the circular coverings from his daughter's breasts, exposing them. Her boobs hung beneath her, resembling udders more than they did a nubile young woman's firm, round tits. He also removed the irregular piece that covered Sarah's buttocks, perineum, and vagina, so that she was naked in all the right places.



Sarah's voice was hoarse. She hadn't spoken for hours, and she'd had nothing to drink but her own saliva since Coach Bigg had allowed her to lap water from the bowl in her cage after she'd wolfed down the sushi in her dinner dish. "How did you know about the coverings?" she croaked.



Max lifted his daughter in his strong arms, and she rested the side of her body against his abdomen and chest. As he carried her upstairs, to the bed in the master bedroom they shared whenever Marlene was not home, he said, "Let me get you into bed first, honey; then, we'll talk."



Instead, as soon as Sarah stretched out upon the firm mattress of the king-size bed and her head hit the soft pillows, she was out like the proverbial light.



* * *



She slept for five hours. She'd probably have slumbered through the night if Max had awakened her.



Drowsily, she asked, "What time is it?"



"Just before three."



"Three!" she cried, sitting up quickly, despite the stiffness in her limbs and the throbbing between her temples. "I have to get to school, Max!! Cheerleading practice starts in an hour, and--"



"Relax, sweetie," he told her. "It's just before three in the morning, not three in the afternoon."



Sarah looked relieved. "Oh." Then she looked peeved. "Why'd you wake me, then, Max?"



"We need to talk," he told her. He smiled. "Then, we need to make love."



"Talk about what?"



"The lioness costume, of course," he reminded her, "and how I knew the combination to the padlock and that your tits, ass, and pussy were concealed by detachable covers."



Sarah squinted at her father. "Yes, you do have some explaining to do, at that, don't you, Max?"



He admitted that he did. "You might be angry, but hear me out, okay?"



Sarah crossed her arms under her boobs. "I'm waiting," she said, her tone frosty. "Whatever you say," she warned, "had better be good."



Max took a deep breath. Here goes, he thought. "A few months ago, I received a telephone call from Bertha Bigg--"



"My coach?" Sarah cried, flabbergasted.



Max nodded.



"My coach called you at home?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.



"At work. She offered me a multi-million-dollar contract as the supplier of South Catholic High School's athletic and cheerleading equipment, everything from jockstraps to practice mats, from helmets and shin guards to pompoms and megaphones, from goal posts and footballs to--"



"Okay, okay," Sarah interrupted. "I get the picture, but what the hell does that have to do with me being caged like a wild animal?"



"Everything," Max said. "The contract includes a clause that requires my company to support the school's athletic and cheerleading programs, and it leaves the interpretation of 'support' completely up to Coach Bigg and Coach Ryerson. The clause means whatever they say it means. It's because of this clause that I installed the Teeter Totter to supplement your spankings at school on The Carousel. It's why I have to go along with your being the school's mascot. I was given the combination to the lock so that I can let you out of the cage during the night and I was told of the costume's coverings for your tits, ass, and pussy because part of the deal is that, at home and during practice at school, these parts of your body must be exposed to reinforce the illusion that you are a lioness."



Sarah stared at her father in stunned disbelief. "And you agreed to such terms?"



"I want to be a good provider for you and your mother, Sarah. As a regional sales manager, I get a percentage of the sales I bring in, including this one, and the cut is for the duration of the contract, not just a one-time, lump-sum incentive. The contract with your school lasts for twelve years--unless I--or you--give Coach Bigg reason to terminate it--and it will easily make me--or our family--wealthy beyond our dreams."



After Sarah had fallen asleep (or, more accurately, had passed out from exhaustion), he'd removed her costume, and the only clothing that the school's mascot wore at the moment was the flesh of her birthday suit. Max reached his arm around his daughter's bare shoulder. "Am I forgiven?"



She jerked away from him. "Hell, no, you aren't forgiven!"



"Sarah, baby--"



"You've been a part of this for months, making me bare my ass every day after school for inspection, to see whether I'd been caned after practice, spanking me if I had--and a few times even if I hadn't--knowing I was being humiliated verbally, physically, and even sexually by my coach, and letting that bitch put me in a fucking cage, as if I were a wild animal, and you expect me to forgive and forget? Asshole!" She threw herself out of bed, sprinted from the room, and slammed the door behind her, leaving her father alone in the king-size bed that they had, as a couple, shared more and more of late as Marlene seemed to find more and more occasions to be away from home, often with Cynthia, the woman with whom, Max was more and more certain, his wife was having a lesbian affair.



Getting out of bed, Max went to his daughter's room, where he found her weeping in her own bed. "If you're going to pout, you're going to do it in your cage, young lady," he said.



"Fuck you!"



Max grabbed his daughter by her wrists, pulled her out of her bed, and hauled her ass downstairs, forcing her into the cage. As she beat her fists against the heavy wire-mesh of the door, he slid the shackle through the hasp, locking it, and gave the combination dial a spin.



"Bastard!" Sarah, trapped inside the enclosure and looking very feral indeed, cried. "I hate you!"



It hurt Max to hear such words from her. After all, Sarah was his only daughter--and a honey of a mistress.



* * *



Nothing facilitates personal reflection as much, perhaps, as being confined by oneself inside the short, narrow quarters of a cage. For the first thirty minutes, Sarah remained hurt, enraged, defiant, and full of self-pity, cursing her father, Coach Bigg, Amanda Meeks, and even her former girlfriend, Marilyn Madison. She also cursed her mother, Marlene, who had become more and more an absent parent, leaving her daughter home alone with a father who loved her not only as his daughter but as his mistress.



According to Max--or her father, as Sarah again thought of her sometime-boyfriend --there was something wrong with Marlene. She seemed to prefer the company of other women--or of one woman in particular--to his own. Perhaps she wanted to experiment a little. Marlene might have come to desire same-sex intimacy which was emotional, if not physical, although, Max had confided to Sarah, he wouldn't rule out the possibility of there being a sexual attraction between the two women, either. After all, lesbianism was all the rage nowadays. Even Sarah had had a lesbian lover.



It was fine with Sarah if her mom turned out to be a dyke, but the teen resented Marlene's leaving her home alone all the time. Although Sarah enjoyed the sexual intimacy she had with her father, she'd also like to have had some time alone with her mom, to talk and shop and watch moronic chick flicks and have a good cry once in a while about whatever. Her mother was a bitch, she thought, for neglecting her.



After the first thirty minutes in her cage, though, Sarah had started to think about the wealth that her father was accumulating by supplying her school's athletic and cheerleading departments with their gear for a dozen years.



South Catholic High School went through a lot of equipment. One or the other of the coaches was always ordering something new--and, often, expensive. Sarah had no doubt that, over a twelve-year period, Max--or her father, she corrected herself--would make quite a fortune as his share of his company's gargantuan profits. He was a good provider, she had to admit. Even in the days when he'd been a strict and humorless disciplinarian, before he'd discovered the joys of incest, her father had also been a very generous man. There wasn't a miserly bone in his body. With considerable wealth at his command, Sarah (and Marlene), she was sure, could have anything they wanted, any time they wanted it--especially if Sarah were both Max's daughter and his mistress. 



* * *



An hour later, when Max came downstairs to check on her, Sarah apologized. "I'm sorry I acted like a spoiled brat, Max. I've thought about my selfish behavior, and I realize that you are only doing what is best for all of us. Let me out of this cage, and I'll make it up to you."



Max had her out of the cage and back upstairs, in their bed, in less than three minutes. It took him only a few seconds to step out of his boxers--the only item of clothing he wore in Sarah's presence when he wasn't altogether naked. He lay next to his nude daughter, thinking her the most beautiful young woman he'd ever seen.



Sarah's small, soft hand curled around his fledgling erection, pumping the tightening flesh of his stiffening, swelling cock up and down.



"Wait, hon," he said.



She gave him a surprised look. Then, she thought she knew why he'd stopped her. She smiled at him. "You want to fuck me in the ass, is that it?"



Max looked at his daughter and shook his head, laughing. She looked so innocent and naïve, with her blonde curls, sun-bronzed tan, sparkling eyes and white smile, that it was hard, even after months of sharing his bed with her, to believe that such a sweet and wholesome-looking girl could utter such words--especially to her father. "As a matter of fact, love, I do," he admitted, "but, if you don't mind, I'd like to do it with you dressed in your lioness costume."



Sarah frowned. She wanted to say no. She'd like to say that yes, she did mind, very much, in fact. But, thinking of the fortune that would be her father's--and, therefore, hers as well--she smiled. "Wait right here, and I'll fetch it, Max."



* * *



When it was over, and her father's semen trickled from her bottom, down her perineum and alongside her labia, wet and warm and thick and sticky, Sarah, lying with her hooded head and muzzled face atop her father's rising and falling chest, her paw upon his flaccid, sperm-smeared prick and balls, sighed contentedly, thinking that it hadn't been bad at all to have made love dressed as a lioness. It had been sexy and fun, in fact, and it was something, therefore, that she would insist they do again sometime. 



"Happy, darling?" her father asked, petting her behind the ears.



"Mmmpfh," she replied around the ball gag inserted in her mouth.



Sarah fell asleep beside her father, naked inside her lioness costume, and purring with contentment.

