Daddy & three daughters dress up for Halloween

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 we…uh…you 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, what?”

Belinda smiled and stood in front of him, smoothed down his lapels, and ran a finger down his gold chains – getting a chance to touch the flesh of his chest.

“I said you’re Pimp Daddy! You know, buying and selling pussy, keeping your ho’s in line. That sort of thing.

“C’mon, let’s show you off!”

Belinda pulled her disbelieving father by the hand down the hallway. There was a scowl forming on Bruce’s face, though he also paid attention to the way his daughter’s ass moved under her skirt.

She brought him into the widest part of the hallway, where the stairs were.

“And now,” Belinda called out, “presenting ‘Slutty Samantha’! Ta-da!”

Samantha popped out of the darkness of the living room. She jumped in front of her father and twirled around. She had her blond hair tied up in pigtails on either side of her head. Her face was heavily made up, with strong red lipstick, rouge on her cheeks, and heavy eyeliner. Her short-sleeved white shirt, under which there was no bra, was tied up underneath her breasts, leaving her flat stomach on display. She wore a short schoolgirl kilt and knee-high white socks, and her platform heels were as high as Belinda’s.

Samantha stepped up to her dad, leaned in and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek, said, “Lookin’ good, Pimp Daddy,” and then twirled off to the corner.

“And now!” Belinda called out again, “‘Fuckdoll Fiona’! Ta-da!”

Fiona stepped out of the living room as well, and a gasp came from Bruce’s lips. His eyes were locked on her as she turned herself around for him, and then Bruce felt frozen in place when she kissed him on his other cheek and whispered, “I’m your fuckdoll, you’re my Pimp Daddy.”

She wore a black leather mask over her head that let her hair out wildly through a hole at the top. Her dark eyes looked out through holes that could be buttoned closed by leather flaps, and her red lips and white teeth showed through a hole that could be covered up as well. A bright red ball-gag hung around her neck. She wore a black corset which was tightened so that there was an extra swell in the cleavage of her breasts, which were barely held in by cups at the top of the corset. Leather gloves, black as well, stretched all the way to her elbows.

Fiona’s platform heels were as high as those of her sisters, but in her case they were part of black patent leather boots that went up to her knees, intricately laced all the way. Fishnet stockings went up from there, until they ended just before her leather hotpants, which had a zipper that began in front and went all the way down her crotch and up the crack up her bum, where the loop of the zipper dangled.

“And I,” Belinda said, “am ‘Backdoor Belinda’! Ta-da!”

Belinda went up and kissed her father on the lips. Then she turned around and rubbed her butt into his half-stiff cock, and turned her head to give him a wink.

“Hold on, hold ON, HOLD ON!” Their father stepped back and waved his hands around. “I…uh…I dunno what…”

Samantha, in her schoolgirl clothes, tilted her head and whined, “Daaaaddy. We’re just having a little fun! What do you think people do on Halloween? Dress up, that’s what!”

“But, but…” Bruce sputtered, “What about that outfit, Fiona? Where did you even get that stuff!”

“Dad!” She admonished him, and fixed him with a gaze through her two eye-holes. “You always encouraged us to be creative! And it’s just us four, just family. Not like we have to worry about our ‘reputations’ or some bullshit like that. Nothing’s going outside this house.”

“But…” Bruce’s voice was less strenuous, “This is…this is some kind of theme you picked out…I don’t know…”

Belinda spoke up and put a hand on her father’s shoulder. “I know having three sexy young women in hand may not be your idea of a good time,” she gave him a sarcastic smirk. “But think about us, huh? We’re all grown up enough now, and we wanna let off a little steam, huh? If we can’t be a little wild and crazy and ‘out there’ with our own dad, then what’s left for us, hmm?

“C’mon. We’ll go and make some pizza, and then watch a scary movie, and it’ll be no big deal. I mean, we know you’re an old fogey,” she playfully poked him lightly in the stomach, “but let us girls have a little fun, huh?”

Bruce smiled and chuckled, “I’m not that old! Why, I…um, never mind. Anyway; yeah, yeah, alright, last thing I wanted to do is ruin your Halloween. It’s one of my favourite holidays. Why…” he playfully clinked the jewellery around his neck, “why, I might just show you young girls up and be the wildest one of all!” He laughed.

“Yay! Let’s go into the kitchen and make pizza!” Samantha said.

As they walked to the kitchen, someone pinched Bruce’s bottom.

“C’mon ho’s, let’s get cook up some food in our kitchen before Pimp Daddy beats our asses!” Belinda giggled.

“Yeah!” added Samantha. “Cookin’, cleanin’ and fuckin’, that’s all us ho’s are good for!”

An admonition was halfway out of Bruce’s lips when Fiona said, “Maybe not so good on the first two!”

The girls laughed uproariously.


The girls moved their father into a seat by the kitchen table. Fiona made a show of straining to twist off the top of a bottle of cold beer, and then bent over in front of her father to hand him the opened bottle, displaying her jiggling cleavage.

Fiona and Samantha did most of the preparing of the pizza, while Belinda looked on, hand on hip, giving out orders that were spiced up with remarks like, “C’mon bitches, Pimp Daddy’s getting hungry!” and “Arch your backs and show Pimp Daddy your asses while you’re working…he doesn’t keep you bitches around because he loves you!” She emphasized these remarks with spanking Fiona or Samantha’s ass.

Bruce would sometimes make a motion as if to protest, but every time his beer bottle became empty, Samantha would say, “Fuckdoll Fiona, can’t you see Pimp Daddy needs to be ‘serviced’?” Fiona would then grin through her mask at her father, get another beer from the fridge and twist the top off while pressing her arms together so that her breasts heaved, and then bent over to place the bottle beside her father, rubbing against him and letting him look at her breasts for as long as he liked.

Bruce, face now a little flushed, was finishing off his third beer when the girls placed the pizza in the oven.

“Alright!” Belinda clapped her hands together. “Now, while it’s baking, let’s go to the living room for a little Halloween dance competition! You’ll be the judge Daddy…um, Pimp Daddy, sorry. Gotta stay in character!

“Anyway, you’ll be the judge, so pay close attention!”

“Dance? Judge?” Bruce asked.


Bruce settled into the large leather recliner in the living room, while the three girls gathered around the stereo.

Suddenly a sound boomed out, loud enough so that Bruce jumped in his seat:

“Oh baby, baby, How was I supposed to know…”

Samantha began stepping, swaying and shaking in front of her father, in time to the synthesizer beat.

“…My loneliness is killing me…”

Bruce clutched the armrests a little tighter, and as he tried to gulp down his saliva, a bead of sweat was forming on his forehead. Samantha shook her ass, flapped her skirt so that her panties showed, and thrust her hips.

“…Hit me baby one more time!”

Samantha was grinding her crotch on her father’s knee, and moving upward on his leg when the song ended.

She stopped, flipped away a few stray strands of hair from her face and said, “Damn…alright, Fiona’s turn.”

Fiona took the spot in front of her father’s seat. She stood perfectly still until another electronic beat, this one dirtier and more aggressive, spurring her fetish-doll body to movement.

“…You let me violate you, You let me penetrate you…”

Fiona put a finger of each hand in her mouth, through her mask. Then she moved her hands down over her body, cupping her breasts, sliding down over her stomach, and then grabbing upwards at her crotch. She turned her ass to her father and bent over. She began pulling down the zipper that ran between her ass cheeks a few notches, which elicited a sharp gasp from her father, before she playfully pulled it back up again.

The beat of the music became harder and more urgent: “…I want to fuck you like an animal!…”

Fiona sat down in her father’s lap, facing him, and moved her ass around, giving him a nasty lap dance over his hard cock. She grasped his head by the hair and pulled it into her breasts, rubbing his face in the soft warm flesh.

The song was over, and silence descended on the room. Fiona withdrew her hands and stopped moving, but her father’s head still stayed pressed between her breasts. She giggled and pulled away, “Now, now, I know I’m your favourite, but you’ve still got one performance to watch.”

Belinda took the floor, a few feet in front of her father. In contrast to her corporate sexy-secretary clothing, a heavy rap beat began pumping through the speakers.

“Got you working with some ass, yeah…”

Belinda moved her ass and stockinged legs in time with the beat, showing her butt off to her father, bending over, sometimes pulling up her skirt a bit or spanking her own bottom so that her father could see the constrained jiggle.

“…Call me big daddy when you back that ass up, Ho who is you playing with, Back that ass up…”

Belinda, facing away from her father, shook her ass at him in time with the music. She slowly moved towards him, rubbing her ass over his bulging cock and up over his stomach.

The music faded out then stopped, and Bruce was suddenly staring at his eldest daughter’s ass resting on his bare upper chest, close enough he could probably get his face into it if he craned his neck forward.

“So, who’s the best dancer of your ho’s, Pimp Daddy?” Samantha had moved beside him, and now was running her hand along his shoulder.”Yeah, who’s your pick?” Fiona was on his other side, and she brushed his neck gently with her gloved hand.

By :Deadly Joker

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