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Friendship is on the rocks.
Cristal was one of the names Daddy gave me when I became His bimbo and used in situations when He felt Slave or Babygirl was innappropriate.
"Cristal, this is Alexander and Elizabeth." My blood ran cold. It couldn't be. I looked up and straight into the face of my parents. I stood, petrified for a couple of seconds before Daddy's hand moved down to my ass and pinched it, hard, to snap me out of my stupor.
"I.. err... How do you do? I stuttered.
"Lovely to meet you Cristal," my mom said, as I became aware of my dad's eyes on my bolt-on tits, which were struggling not to burst out of my dress.
"It certainly is," my dad added with a look of hunger in his eyes.
I just stood there, speechless. I suppose a vacant look was appropriate for a bimbo like me. Daddy pulled the chair out for me and I sat down, internally panicking, and suddenly incredibly aware of the plug that was only just holding Daddy's cum in my still slightly gaping asshole.
Throughout the whole meal I sat, speaking only when spoken to and even then like I didn't have a single braincell, just the way Daddy liked me.
I listened to Daddy and my dad talk about work. I sat in silence while they discussed politics. Then my mom asked me if I thought Daddy would propose to me soon. I told her I hoped he would. Secretly I knew that the only rings Daddy would ever get me would be new heavy steel ones to attach leashes to my collar or chains to keep me in place while he abused me.
After a while, the subject of my parents' missing son came up. I had to listen to them talk about how much they missed me and how they just wanted to know what happened to me so they could have closure. The last they knew of me, the old me at least, was that I was engaged to a girl they loved and I was on a business trip when I disappeared and was never found. Daddy had forbidden me to make contact with anyone from my old life when I became his slave. That was long before I was bimbofied and allowed outside again.
Mom looked an inch from crying as she spoke about her lost son, how strong he was, how much of a good man I was. She had no idea that I was right there in front of her. With fake eyelashes, fake lips, and a huge set of bolt-on stripper tits. I couldn't bear to think about what she would think if she knew that her son was now a platinum blonde, collared and owned sex-slave to a sadistic man who hired me out to other men and fucked me mercilessly whenever he wanted to dump a load but whom I worshipped as my God. It would have broken her heart to know that I spent most of my time on Daddy's cock, being violently fucked and begging to be hit or choked just so I could feel Daddy's touch or begging to be allowed to drink his cum.
I excused myself from the table to use the restroom and when I got there I stood in front of the mirror, just staring at my own body. I was so conflicted. Part of me hated myself for being what I had become. But looked at the way the halter part of my dress stretched over my tits and I got turned on, as I always did when I saw myself by then. Until I met Daddy I was a completely straight man and in many ways I still was. So seeing this busty, fake, slut in the mirror was a turn on, as if I wasn't looking at myself.
My head was still swimming when I left the ladies room. I was brought back to reality by the sight of my dad waiting for me in the corridor. He came close and I felt his arm wind around my tight waist.
"I know who you are," he whispered in my ear.
"Wh... Sorry?" I blurted out as my heart dropped so fast I thought it would fall out of my ass.
"Yes." My dad's hand found my ass and he pulled me into him so my tits pressed against his chest.
"I... I..." I couldn't even put a sentence together.
"You're a filthy, nasty little cumwhore."
I didn't know whether to be relieved or not.
He continued: "...and your owner has given you to me for the weekend in a few weeks as a birthday present."
He leaned his head back to look up and down my body.
"Mmm, by the time I'm finished with you, you'll be so used you'll be calling me Dadd