When I was just a wee girl, I would sit on the couch with my parents and watch classic TV shows like “Father Knows Best.” It was such a wholesome family show. My mom was clueless about what my daddy would do to me after he tucked me into bed. He always slithered back into my room after she was asleep and said it was time to play a little game; a special game just between him and me. His game was called “Father Knows Breast.” He would suck on my titties. They were smaller then, but he loved to play with them. He did all sorts of things to my breasts at night. He would tie them up; put nipple clamps on them; pour hot wax over them; put his cigarette out on my nipples; bite them; cover them in melted chocolate for a special midnight snack; spank them; squeeze them… There was nothing off limits in his game of Father Knows Breast. My breasts were his to do with as he saw fit.
His favorite thing to do of course was to fuck them. He would climb on top of me at night, push them together, and put his big daddy dick in between them until he shot a load of thick jizz all over them. He would call me a dirty whore and a cock tease, then sneak back into bed with mommy. My boobs, my body belonged to daddy. They still do. He was my first master. Now, I have way bigger boobs and I love them to be mutilated and tortured in a game I call Master Knows Breast. Would you like to play?
Cassandra
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