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A Caged Submissive Stepdad Joins a D I never asked.
Very calmly, my wife told me that she wished for a divorce because she was still in love with Lt. Jan: who was also her daughter’s biological father. I nodded.
“You see, Dean, I don’t want to start friendzoning you: it’s just that the two of us have been like brother and sister for so many years. Believe me, I have so much gratitude for you: you’ve taken care of us, you’ve given me back hope, you’ve supported me… and you’ve raised Barbara as an intelligent and wonderful daughter, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. But…”
“Yes, and…”
“But you know that ours is not a married love, Dean. Even this kink of yours for the male chastity cage:”
I felt a tad defrauded: “You always said you liked it…”
“Yes! Yes, I like it! Oh, Dean, believe me, achieve my orgasms facesitting on top of your mouth, while you have your penis under lock and key, is a fabulous feeling of Power.
I liked it you gave me unforgettable orgasms.
But I am deeply in love with Jan (Lt. Jan) and it wouldn’t be fair…”
I knew she was sincere.
I had known it all along.
And there was no point in dragging out over time a situation that, in any case, would have pained both her and me. “I know. I knew it all along. All right. I’ll pay you the amount you want as an alimony…”
“Oh! No, Dean, you don’t have to! I don’t need the money, and besides, with my job, my paycheck is much higher than yours (like 29% of wives in Western countries, although no one seems to understand how important it is in the daily life of couples)! If you support me, I will ask the judge to rule that I, the wife, will pay you, the husband, a major part of my earnings. And our house, I want it to remain with you, so it will be less traumatic for Barbara, who sees you as a father even though she knows you very well…”
“She knows…”
“Dean: Barbara’s face is a copy of Lt. Jan’s face. Anyone who sees a photo recognizes the resemblance. Even without a DNA test.”
“Clever girl..:”
“Yes. Barbara is so clever, she has already figured it all out. I talked to her and she understood me.”
###
So it was that in court they saw the simplest and most loving divorce in History. We went in as newlyweds and came out as friends, holding hands with our daughter.
Soon after, my daughter was diagnosed with a nasty tumor in her left breast. The surgeons were forced to remove one of her breasts. They proposed some solutions for implants for bursa escort cosmetic purposes, but she did not want to: she always said, “It is like a war scar: it shows that I survived.”
Thus, in her early twenties, my daughter (who was not my daughter) had had a breast removed.
Such severe trauma is like a sieve: it selects important friends from superficial acquaintances.
My daughter introduced me to her girlfriend: TD, Teresa Delrosario. “Daddy (she called me that even knowing that her biological father is Lt. Jan) Daddy, meet TD: Teresa. She is my girlfriend, we are lesbians. I could tell you that she is the smartest girl in the Literature class or anything else to distract you, but instead, I want you to focus on the fact that your daughter is a lesbian.”
I hugged her. “You are my daughter and that’s it. Everything else is just details.”
###
.
Chapter 3 the first encounter: the Fellowship members.
.
The first “Encounter” was very simple: a patrol of orcs, routed by the party in an instant.
The girls played with small figurines representing their characters. A very geeky thing, bordering on obsessive: Teresa’s she-dwarf clearly showed the overlapping of different colorations in the dyeing of her hair, as if she had been painted several times to look like Teresa as time went on.
I had been given a common Lego figurine (out of scale): the classic paladin in shining armor. It was just a momentary character, I thought.
Orcs and other monsters were fished out of a drawer full of miniature creatures, or sometimes they were sculpted with a 3D printer drawing from an online catalog reserved for true Geeks.
In the loot, we found a magical armor that would give additional protection to all the Party. My daughter read the marginal annotations, “You have found the legendary “Armor of Thoris,” which adds a considerable bonus to all Party members and especially those who for different reasons cannot use real armor, such as a wizard, a halfling and who knows, sometimes a barbarian in rage like Orlando when he was furious… I love so much to see Teresa when she is furious…”
The girls cheered “I me, I’ll take him” “No, it’s armor, you can’t you’re somehow a wizard” “Me, pick me!”
Barbara shook her head as if to chase away all speculation. “No. It clearly says that it is armor reserved for Paladins. Only a Paladin can choose whether to wear it or not.”
Without speaking everyone turned their eyes toward me.
“Oh! bursa escort bayan That’s me!” I stammered, still not fully imbedded in the role.
I coughed to try to assume an appropriately epic tone of voice. “My Liege, I would be honored if you would allow me to wear said armor by taking it from the collective loot, I forgo any other rewards. The bonus need not be personal as well, I am content with it being a benefit to the lives of these girls.”
Barbara smiled. “All right then. Now I’ll look for a design on the Internet to 3D print the figurine. And in the meantime, while I’m looking…I must warn you that one of the orcs had thrown a vial at you that had released a magical liquid, which poisoned all fabrics like the Shirt of Nessus.
“What can we do!” cried Esmeralda frightened.
“Roll for Perception.”
Fortunately, Skye the She-Mage got an 18 and a 20 from the dice.
The Narrator sighed with relief. “Pfff…you are lucky. So: Skye has the sudden insight, that this liquid does not affect Silk.
If you are wearing some silk clothes, you can continue wearing them, otherwise it will be convenient for you to undress.
I jokingly said, “Well, I’m lucky, I’m wearing the pure silk boxers you gifted me for Christmas!”
Before I could react, Teresa grabbed the pants of my sweatpants and pulled them down to below my ankles. “I confirm,” said the Hispanic berserker, “it reads his boxers are silk.”
“Okay,” said the Narrator, “then everyone undressed while keeping only the silk clothes.
I noticed that the girls giggled. But not at the embarrassment of them. Almost all of them wore long silk robes-Skye the she-Magician, in particular, took off almost nothing except her shoes: long sleeves of transparent silk covered her shoulders and arms, with a knot over her freckled breasts, and a long silk gown hid her pussy from my view, showing me only the navel pierced (she smiled and told me “it’s a power magical ring”).
The she-halfling wore a light gray camisole that reproduced the ring pattern of a chainmail (Mithril, perhaps, created for a teenage elven prince…), printed on a silk fabric: and, yes, underneath she showed a bush of frizzy, unruly black hair, but the camisole was long and covered almost half her thigh.
Her feet were bare, as befits all Bilbo Baggins’ relatives for nearly a century.
After the first meeting, my Paladin treated the wounds of each member of the party. My daughter approved and was escort bayan satisfied, at least for the moment. It looks like we will have some father/daughter “quality time” this week.
I could see that as Master/Narrator she gave a few notes to individual players after the dice rolls. She only gave me a card that said “With your Perception, you don’t notice anything.”
Instead, to the girls Barbara would write lots of little notes and receive them in response, in secret. I thought that the girls probably had more perception because they were more experienced.
Barbara said that to heal my Paladin gibberish was counterproductive because I was not a real Healer.
I didn’t understand what she meant until Teresa (my daughter’s girlfriend) took a “Horse Bit” gag with a double harness of black leather. She gritted her teeth and said, “Barb…”
I feared Teresa was about to say my daughter’s name, contravening one of the very first rules of the game! No one dares to disrespect the Dungeon Master!
But Teresa was an experienced player and could take calculated risks.
She growled hissing syllables at me, punctuating loudly, “Barbarian, now, will gag you, dumb Paladin.”
I instinctively brought my hands close to my chin, but my daughter frowned.
“No, this is a big No, rookie. When the Barbarian wants to put a gag in your mouth, you must not react with your arms. I’ll ask our Magician to cuff your wrists behind your back, so you won’t have any more instinctive temptations.
And perhaps our she-halfling could take on the task of rolling the dice for you? That way we can see how many healing points you can offer, now that you don’t overpower the effectiveness of the potions with your confused babble.”
Within minutes, I was gagged, cuffed, and caged. I was still wearing my black silk boxers, but otherwise, I was almost naked, dumb, old, and out of shape amid these cosplaying girls accustomed to 20-year-old studs with sculpted abs. And I was dramatically aware that all of them knew that underneath were my exposed blue balls and penis curved in a perpetual bow of submission, inside the metal armor of a paladin shrimp.
My daughter did not look astonished. “Daddy-Dean, would you go get drinks from the refrigerator? The glasses are already on the table here, everyone has their own, you just have to go all the way to the kitchen…”
Wearing only my boxers, I walked to the kitchen, going down and up the stairs.
I don’t know how many minutes I might have taken. Certainly, too few for Barbara to be able to 3D print a figurine.
Yet my new figurine was there on the table waiting for me. Perhaps my daughter had had it in her drawer for a long time? I don’t know.
The body of a human, male, shoulders, biceps, waist, and jaw. It looked enough like me to be a figurine.