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House of Whores

Belinda was feeling so blissful she almost purred in contentment as she sipped tea and looked out the kitchen window. Outside of their country house the fields and woods were bathed the rich sunlight of an autumn afternoon.

"Wow, I've forgotten how beautiful it is out here," she said. Belinda had quit her secretarial job and moved back home from the city after breaking up with Carl. She was tall and blonde, but her glasses and sweater couldn't completely hide the knock-out body underneath, slim from fitness and but blessed with generous breasts and ass. Belinda was idly planning to find another job, to get back into the rat race; maybe in the same city, maybe somewhere else. But for now every day in her first home felt better and better.

Her younger sister Fiona, the middle child in the family, raised her head. She was sitting at the kitchen table, going over a short story anthology with a highlighter.

"Yeah," Fiona said, "It is nice. I mean, if anything, it's gotten quieter since you left. So many farms and businesses closing up, a lot of land just going back to being wild."

Fiona went back to idly scanning over her book. She had a full slate of courses at the university, but most of them were largely done over the internet, so that she only needed to take the 90 minute drive to the campus about every second week, borrowing her father's car. Fiona was dark-haired and husky in stature, which gave her face a roundness, and emphasized the curves of both her breasts and butt.

"Though, it's probably not the greatest for Dad," Fiona added, taking her attention from the page again. "I mean, he doesn't get to mix with a lot of new people here."

Belinda nodded and sighed, leaning onto the counter while looking thoughtful. "Yeah, I mean, it's been over a year since Mom died. And he doesn't do much except work in his study, huh?"

"Well," Fiona said, "it's not like he doesn't get outside. Y'know, stuff like chopping wood or hiking or even canoeing, which he's been doing more of. But he does all that stuff by himself.

"He's really dived into his work. Business is going great, and he's making loads of cash. But the problem is he just does it all from the computer in the study. I wish he expanded his horizons a bit. Took a break to relax."

"Me too Fi," Belinda said, "me too."

The kitchen drifted into silence. They heard a large vehicle some distance away, passing by on the road at the end of their long driveway.

A few minutes later their youngest sister, Samantha, came bouncing in: "Hey guys! Why the serious looks?"

Samantha was in her final year of high school. She had blonde hair like Belinda, but her body structure was radically different: svelte and petite. At first they thought because she was the youngest, that she was just taking time to bloom. But she was now a young woman, though she could easily make herself look much younger than her eighteen years.

"Oh," Belinda said, "we were just discussing Daddy. We were worried that he was working too much."

"He does work too much," Samantha said. "And spends too much time alone.

"Hey! Maybe we can do something with him for Halloween tomorrow? I got invited somewhere, but I can cancel, no problem. How about you guys?"

They all jumped on the idea, and soon sat around the table discussing various possibilities.

At one point, Fiona looked like she wanted to speak up. Her sisters became silent, but Fiona just twirled her highlighter between her fingers, and then chewed a bit on the end of it with her teeth.

"Well..." she began, "what about if guys know the stuff we always talked about doing? Especially on those late nights when we snuck into each other's rooms?"

The three sisters leaned their heads closer to each other, and their conversation was scattered with wavering whispers and nervous giggles.

At one point, Belinda spoke up. "Listen girls, as someone who's been out in the world for a few years, and someone who left here and never thought she would come back, let me tell you this: there aren't going to be many more chances like this for us. Heck, maybe none. So if we want to do this, we should do it."

"And...?" Samantha asked.

"And," Belinda said, taking a deep breath, "I want to do it."

"So do I."

"Yeah, me too."

The three sisters flashed big toothy grins at each other.


Later that afternoon, Belinda walked down the hallway and stopped at the door of her father's study. She saw him working away at the desk in the corner, surrounded by stacked file folders, some of them overflowing with papers.

There were a couple of large picture windows which framed the beauty of the changing autumn leaves outside, but his gaze was fixed on one of the three computer monitors in front of him. As he pecked away at the keyboard, Belinda secretly admired the way his motions made the muscles quiver under his plaid shirt. With his sleeves rolled up, and with the slight flecks of grey in the short dark hair on his head and in the stubble on his face, he looked like a nineteenth century lumberjack confined to doing some twenty-first century computer engineering.

Belinda softly knocked on the door and then strode in, bending over behind her father's chair and hugging him by wrapping her arms around his upper chest.

"Hello, Daddy," she said softly in his ear, and then gave him a kiss on the cheek. She looked at the computer screens, but the scattered numbers were gibberish to her. She stayed locked in the hug, and inhaled his scent.

"Uh," he said, "did you want something, Princess?"

"Oh yeah!" She'd been lost in that musky scent of her father's. "Dinner'll be ready in about half an hour." She was still hugging him and speaking softly into his ear. "Also, you know tomorrow's Halloween, right?"

"Oh," he said, like he didn't actually know. "You girls want to go out tomorrow night? The car's yours, no problem."

"Actually, what we thought was, it would be fun for all of us to spend together, as a family." Belinda gave him a squeeze at the last word. "You know, dress up in costumes, watch a few scary movies, that sort of thing?"


"Don't worry Daddy, we'll take care of that. Just promise you'll free yourself up for the evening. I don't want to hear about any client meetings or any fences that need painting or anything like that, got it?" she teased him.

"Um..." Her father tried to turn to look at her while she hugged him from the back. "Yeah, alright, should be fun. You girls are too good to me, thinking of your old Pop."

"Oh, we'll be very good to you," Belinda said. And then, fearing she'd said too much, she quickly kissed her father on the cheek again and hurried out of his study.


Early evening the next day, the father of the three girls, Bruce, was sitting in his study feeling restless. He'd wrapped up all of his work a few hours ago, like he promised his girls. But they told him they didn't were 'getting everything ready' and asked him to stay in his study with the door closed.

Bruce had settled into an armchair with a novel, but the light through the window was now fading. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Bruce called.

"Hey Dad!" Belinda stepped in and then twirled around so that her father could take a look at her outfit. "Whataya think?"

Her father was silent, and just stared at his oldest daughter. She wore extremely high, black platform high-heels. Black stockings covered her legs, and enough of her short skirt had slipped up that you could see not only the lacy tops of the stockings, but the beginnings of the garters that held them in place. The skirt Belinda wore was black with grey pinstripes, and was not only short but also so tight that the vertical lines warped dramatically over the bulge of her butt, and her panty lines were visible.

Her lacy black bra showed wherever it touched the thin white silk of her sleeveless top, and enough buttons were undone that the part that held the two cups together was visible. Belinda's straight blonde hair was worn up with a clip, and her thick-rimmed glasses had slipped halfway down her nose.

Belinda handed her father a bag. "We went through your closet and put together a great outfit for you!"

Bruce looked in the bag. "My summer suit? I haven't worn that in...damn."

Bruce took his clothes out of the bag, and Belinda suggested her father start with the pants. "Uh," he said, "can I have a little privacy?"

"Hmm?" Belinda asked, looking over her glasses. Then she giggled. "Oh, alright Daddy. But just remember, you're only allowed to dress up with what we picked out for you. That means you go commando."


"No underwear." Belinda saw the questioning look on her father's face, and grabbed one of his hands in hers and pleaded. "Come on! We're just having a little fun! Let us girls be a little crazy, huh? If you want all of us to have fun, you can't be a spoil-sport and play by your own rules, can you?"

Her father nodded hesitantly. When he called her back in, Belinda could see the outline of her father's cockhead pressing against the white cloth of his pants. She shot him a smile.

Bruce finished dressing up in his 'costume' and looked at himself in the closet mirror. "It's a look I guess, but is all this jewellery really necessary?"

"Why of course it is, silly!

"Let loose! Get into character! It's Halloween!" Belinda circled her dad and looked him over. He wore a white suit and black dress shoes. Gold necklaces of all kinds were hanging on his naked chest between the lapels of the suit jacket. The girls had also found multiple gold bracelets for each of his wrists, and even a false hoop earring to put in one ear.

"And just what is my character?" Her father asked.

"And now the final touch..." Belinda placed a fedora on his head. "Hmm, not the same color, but good enough! Ta-da! Presenting 'Pimp Daddy'!"

Her father blinked, "Hmm, ...
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