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Michael woke to the feeling of a mouth on his cock.
He groaned, and thrust his hips. His mind was full of the image of what had happened last night – his stepdaughter Chloe, who hated him, nevertheless driven by arousal and hypnotic compulsion to kiss the tip of his dick, and suck the salty pre-cum from it. Her eyes had been filled with such an erotic mixture of hatred and humiliation and lust, it was a surprise he hadn’t ejaculated right into her mouth the second her lips touched his glans.
“Chloe,” he moaned – and then, louder – too loud – “CHLOE!”
A voice came from down the hallway – insolent, bratty, annoyed – “What?” And then, alarmingly, moving closer, “What the fuck do you want?”
The mouth vanished from Michael’s cock. It wasn’t his stepdaughter fellating him – it was his fiancee Sarah. They were both naked in Sarah’s bed – and the door to their bedroom wasn’t locked.
“Michael,” said Sarah urgently. “Tell her to go away.”
“It’s too late,” said Michael. He thought quickly – and had a wicked thought. “But I need to cum, because you’ve apparently been cockteasing me while I slept.” His hand went to his cock, and began to stroke it. “Go distract her until I cum. Give her her morning kiss. Don’t let her look at me.”
“What?” said Sarah. “No…”
But the doorknob began to turn as Chloe reached the closed bedroom door, and there was no time to argue, and Sarah was not only naturally submissive, but becoming stupider each day as Michael’s combination of aphrodisiacs and sexual teasing had their way with her, and in the moment of crisis she chose to obey rather than argue.
The door opened, Chloe stepped in, and Sarah jumped out of bed and kissed her daughter on the lips.
This was the ritual that Sarah and her daughter had been performing every day for the past week, under Michael’s urging, but it was different this morning. Firstly, Chloe herself was barely dressed, still wearing the slutty “pyjamas” Michael had given her the night before. There was a see-through pink negligee that fully displayed her tits, and a pair of panties with the crotch cut out, the eight-inch heels locked on her feet, and nothing else.
This might have surprised and dismayed Chloe’s mother – except that Sarah was herself completely nude still, with mussed hair and a wet cunt. She had no room to criticise her daughter’s appearance because she was so ashamed of her own. And so she pressed her nude body against her daughter, and kissed her daughter on the lips, and tried to position Chloe so she couldn’t see Michael.
Michael wondered if Chloe could taste his cock as she kissed her mother’s mouth.
Sarah’s back was to Michael, and despite Sarah’s efforts, Chloe could see Michael over her mother’s shoulder. Michael made no effort to conceal his cock under the blanket. Instead, he pushed back the sheets and began to openly masturbate, looking Chloe in the eye.
Chloe made muffled noises of protests as her mother kissed her – which changed into squeaks of violation, and then a deep, humiliated moan, as her mother’s fingers found the hole in her panties, slipped between her pussy lips, and began to probe her wet cunt. Her eyes remained fixated on Michael’s erect cock.
Michael just smiled, and watched his nude fiance kissing and masturbating her humiliated daughter. He took his time, knowing that Sarah wouldn’t dare stop until she knew he had finished.
The thing that finally pushed Michael over the edge was watching Chloe finally, inevitably orgasm from her mother’s fingers. He gasped, and felt himself begin to ejaculate over the sheets.
As soon as he was able, he spoke. “Jesus, Sarah,” he spat, in a harsh voice. “What are you doing? Did you just make your own daughter orgasm?”
Sarah jumped as if she had been slapped. Her face was flushed and he could see that kissing her daughter had only been making her hornier. She wasn’t thinking clearly, she wanted her own orgasm, and she had no defences against the guilt caused by his suggestion she was molesting her daughter.
“No!” she said. “I mean – you told me – I – I’m sorry…”
“I made a mess,” he said, pointing at the pool of cum on the bedsheets. “Get over here and lick it up.”
There was a moment of tension. This was far sluttier than anything he’d asked Sarah to do in front of her daughter previously. He hoped that she was in a state of such confusion and shock that she would obey, but if she resisted him now…
But she didn’t. Her face red, she scurried over to the bed, climbed up onto it on all fours, and then lowered her face and began licking at the pool of cum as her shocked daughter watched.
Meanwhile, Michael got up – making no effort to conceal his still dripping cock – and walked over to Chloe.
“I don’t appreciate how you’ve been snubbing me every morning, Chloe,” he said. “Giving your mother such affectionate kisses while ignoring me. I think it’s time you gave me a kiss too.”
Chloe’s face was flushed from the effects of her recent orgasm. She was breathing quickly. “Fuck off,” she whispered. “No. No. I won’t.”
“Yes, you will,” he told her.
“Mom…” said Chloe, in a desperate voice.
Sarah raised her head from the puddle of cum long enough to say, “Kiss your father, sweetie.”
And before Chloe could do anything else, Michael had picked her up by her torso, carried her forward, and pressed her against the bedroom wall. His chest was against her tits, her face level with his face. Her feet were off the ground, her legs were spread either side of his hips, and her exposed groin was just above the tip of his cock.
He lowered her slightly, letting her feel the tip of his penis parting her pussy lips, tickling against her clitoris, then moving down to hover at the entrance to her fuckhole.
Her eyes were wide with panic.
“Tell me you love me,” he whispered. “Or I’ll lower you down further.”
There was no escape for her. Over his shoulder, she could see her mother’s bare ass and pussy, as she lapped up Michael’s semen like a pet animal. Michael’s arms were strong, and to the extent she was able to move, the only thing she could achieve was causing herself to slip down so that his dick would penetrate her pussy.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Louder,” he said. “And call me the right name.”
She bit her lip in a last act of furious defiance.
He flexed his cock, letting it swipe a trail of his cum across the mouth of her baby-maker.
“I love you, daddy,” she breathed. Then, louder, “I love you, daddy.”
From the bed, Sarah, still licking, said something that sounded like, “Good girl.”
And then Michael kissed her, and Chloe was kissing him back, furiously, passionately. They were the kisses of a girl who had hate and love confused in her mind, and she tried to bite his lips, push away his tongue, hurt him with her passion – but her defiance only made him harder and hornier. And she was struggling – but she knew that struggling would just get her raped, and they both knew that every violent buck of her hips was an attempt to get him to penetrate her, to cum inside her, to fulfil the demeaning fantasies she had been having since Michael entered her mother’s life.
But he wasn’t giving her what she wanted that easily.
“Beg me to rape you,” he whispered in her ear.
She moaned – but she whispered back, “Please rape me, daddy.”
“Beg me to turn you into my fuckdoll,” he said.
She didn’t reply – only made a choked, humiliated sob that might have been a “yes”.
And then his third demand. “Beg me to impregnate you.”
Her whole body stiffened, and her eyes went wide with shock.
He smiled. “Too slow,” he said – and put her down, and backed away. He seized his underpants from the bedroom floor and pulled them on, while Chloe was still shaking with desperate lust and denial.
He had had no intention of raping her this morning. But making her beg for it was an important step. She would beg again – and next time she would remember why he had said no today, and know that if she wanted satisfaction, she was going to have to give a better answer.
“Go to your room and get ready for school,” he told her.
And Chloe scampered away so fast, one might think all the devils of hell were chasing her.
Afterwards, still nude, Michael’s cum shining on her face, Sarah was distraught with guilt.
“I didn’t…” she said. “Michael, honey, you told me to do it. I didn’t mean to make her cum.”
“You were supposed to check if she was wet, not fingerbang her,” said Michael. “Jesus, Sarah – how long have you been molesting your daughter?”
Her eyes went wider. “I’m not – I didn’t…”
“Do you have any idea what the police would do if they saw your performance this morning?” he hissed at her. “You’d go to jail. They’d put Chloe into foster care.”
Chloe was 18, and the government would do nothing with her regardless of her mother’s behaviour, but Sarah wasn’t thinking clearly now, and Michael knew it. Instead, Sarah wailed – a low, pathetic moan of despair.
“We’re going to have to deal with this, Sarah,” said Michael. “We’re going to have to do something about your sexual attraction to your own daughter.”
“I don’t – I’m not attracted to…” began Sarah. But Michael cut her off by reaching down to Sarah’s naked cunt and feeling it. It was wet. It was always wet these days, because of the drugs Michael was using to keep Sarah horny and stupid, but Sarah didn’t know that was the reason. She thought she was becoming a slut.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered, as Michael fingered her wet fuckhole.
“I’ve got an idea to help you,” said Michael. He took his finger out of her pussy and went to the cupboard. The item he took out was something he had purchased a while ago – something he had fantasised about using on Chloe – but it would be of more use now, applied to Chloe’s mother.
“What is that?” asked Sarah nervously, while complying obediently with Michael as he pulled her up off the bed and began to secure the device around her waist and groin.
“It’s a chastity belt,” he said. “It will stop you masturbating to thoughts of your daughter. We’re going to leave it on you all the time, except once per day, when we’ll do a session to train you out of your slutty little obsession.”
Sarah squeaked as Michael latched the belt into place. It was made of leather and metal, with soft padding on the inside. The groin strap had three interesting attachments, and it was these that made Sarah squeak as the belt was tightened. Two of them fitted against her pussy and anus – not enough to deeply penetrate her, but enough to push at the entrance to her holes, stretching and teasing them. The third was a small concave fixture that fitted lightly around her clitoris, gently cupping it – and gently vibrating. From the moment the belt was in place, there was a constant maddening buzz against Sarah’s clit.
The belt was secured at the waist with a lock, and once the belt was locked on, Michael put the key on his keyring.
“Michael…” complained Sarah. “It feels funny.”
“That’s exactly how it should feel,” said Michael. “It’s just a little constant reminder of why you’re wearing this, and the disgusting behaviour you’ve engaged in.”
“What if I need to go to the toilet?” asked Sarah.
“Just ask me for permission, and I’ll take you to the toilet and unlock you,” said Michael. It was about time Sarah began to seek his permission for even her most basic activities, he thought.
She just moaned again. And Michael knew that between the drugs, and the constant buzzing against her clitoris, Sarah wasn’t going to be doing any rational thinking in the near future.
Chloe wasn’t pleased by any of this. She was furious.
She ambushed him in the corridor, around lunch time, and gave him a vicious poke in the ribs. “Stop it,” she hissed.
“Stop what?” he asked innocent, grabbing her wrist to stop her poke him again. The poke amused him more than hurting him – Chloe’s hypnotic treatment prevented her from using violence against him, and this was clearly the strongest physical protest she could muster.
“Stop what you’re doing to my mom,” she said. “It’s one thing to molest me – but leave her alone.”
“Are you saying you want me to molest you, Chloe?” asked Michael.
“You know what I mean,” hissed Chloe. “Leave her alone. I’ll fight you. I don’t care what happens to me.”
He laughed. “You can’t fight me, Chloe,” he said. “And more importantly, you don’t *want* to fight me.” Casually, he used his free hand to slap her across the face. Then he grabbed her shirt and ripped it. She had changed into a casual blouse and skirt, but he ripped both of these off her as she wailed, and then tore her panties off her cunt with two quick pulls. He didn’t like her current outfit anyway – it wasn’t as slutty as he preferred. He was doing her a favour by removing it from her wardrobe.
She gave a short scream – loud and piercing – but no one would be coming to help her. Sarah was far too horny, confused, and guilty to interfere in the situation, even if she could hear her daughter through her own lust. Michael slapped Chloe across the face again, and then took out his phone and took a picture of her naked body.
Then, deliberately, he unzipped his pants and took out his cock.
“Thank me for disciplining you,” he said.
“I hate you,” spat Chloe. “I hate you, you fucking monster. Why can’t you leave me and my mother alone?”
But she was already sinking to her knees in front of him.
“I can’t leave you alone because you don’t want to be left alone, Chloe,” he said. “And the sooner you admit that, the better. You and your mother both want to be my fucktoys – and you know that, sooner or later, you will be.” He reached out and stroked her hair, as her head approached his cock.
She made a choking sound, and then said, “Thank you, daddy. Thank you for slapping me and ripping off my clothes. Thank you for making mom fingerbang me and kiss me.”
And then her lips touched his cock, and this time he let her suck the tip of his penis for a full ten seconds before slapping her across the face, pushing her away, kicking her in the cunt, and calling her a slut.
The nude photo of Chloe that he had taken was useful only a half hour later. He downloaded it to Sarah’s computer – in the process creating a nice evidentiary record of her viewing porn of her own daughter – and then removed her chastity belt and made her stare at the photo and masturbate.
“I can’t, Michael,” wept Sarah. “She’s my own daughter.”
“Then why are you so wet?” asked Michael. And it was true – Sarah was now so soppingly wet and desperate to cum that Michael had to slap her hand away from her pussy every few seconds as she stared at her nude daughter, in order to stop her from cumming.
He let her edge to her own daughter for ten minutes, before finally pulling her hands away, pushing her legs open wider, and beginning to whip her cunt with his belt.
“This is the only way to train you out of molesting your daughter,” he told her, repeatedly whipping her cunt with his belt.
But, just as he had known she would be, she was far too horny to experience the punishment normally. The whipping was painful, yes – but also each blow gave her pussy the stimulation it so deeply desired. And on the eleventh blow she orgasmed, still staring at the nude photo of her daughter, weeping and babbling incoherently.
He would do this to her every day. And in between, the belt and the drugs would tease her mercilessly.
He wasn’t training her out of lusting after her daughter. He was doing the opposite. And with every day that passed, Sarah would grow to associate her own daughter with arousal, with guilt, and with pain – and associate all those things with being able to orgasm.
He told her she was a good girl as he locked her back into the chastity belt. It was a phrase she had hated when they first got together. “Girl” was infantilising, she said. She was a woman. He shouldn’t call her “girl”.
But now she just accepted it – and even thanked him for helping her – and he knew that he had permission to adjust all his language towards her. He would not be calling his fiancee a woman ever again – or any other term that didn’t reinforce her submissive new relationship to him.
Until eventually it would just be Michael, and his two loving, obedient girls.