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Caught By Daddy

It’s not hard to not get caught…

My parents were in some crazy Christian cult you’ve probably never heard of. Extra misogynist. They told me my whole life woman’s role was to serve. I knew early on that’s the role I wanted. I’d burn with, giddy, nervous energy whenever they spoke about “good, submissive girls.” Daddy tried to interest me in the “benefits” of being with such a girl but I had no interest. I grew my hair and dressed in an increasingly androgynous way. They were concerned but let it slide at first. I was such a good, obedient boy, after all!

They finally spooked the first time I wore a dress. After spending days in my room they decided on a punishment to “scare me straight”; they’d treat me like a girl if I didn’t shape up. Oh no! 😀

I’d been jealous of Mommy for years. We fought just like any mother and daughter, never admitting aloud that the heart of our contention was that we both wanted to be the woman of the house, to be the one Daddy chose. Some daughters won’t admit this means they want to fuck Daddy, but I knew better. 

So I started dressing in tight jeans and short shorts, trying to seduce my father. I knew he couldn’t resist staring at young girls in tight clothes. I hoped I’d be able to flip that switch in him until he thought of me more as a piece of ass than as his son. It seemed to be working. I caught glimpses of the bulge in his pants when I showed off. I let him “catch” me napping in the living room in lacy panties, thigh highs, and a bra. From behind I looked just like Mommy. He got home from work and immediately began feeling me up. 

“Oh honey, what a treat. Our sissy son better not come home and ruin this or I swear I’ll fuck that bitch too.” I heard his belt buckle come undone. “Still asleep, honey? Well, no matter” I felt something warm and hard bump into my ass. His hands started pulling my panties down.

“Mmm, Daddy? Are you home?” I pretended to be groggy and half asleep. 

He fled. I opened an eye to watch as he tucked his cock away while heading to his bedroom. It was a nice cock.

“You better start dressing like a boy or we’ll teach you to act like a real girl. You know what that means!”

“No, Daddy, no!” I tried to make it sound convincing.

That night I listened at the wall between our rooms with a glass. Mommy was concerned. Jealous, I bet. But Daddy assured her that as soon as the threat of being treated like a girl became imminent that I would  snap out of it. Mommy giggled evilly.

“That little sissy won’t last an instant in a good, submissive girl’s shoes,” she said.