Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten


It occurred to Tayla one day that she hadn’t been outside the Rutman house and yard since she first arrived in Modwina, except for the purpose of attending the hospital.

No sooner had she thought it, than Tayla was filled with a powerful, all-consuming longing to go somewhere – anywhere – other than spend day after day in the same house, doing degrading chores, and sucking the cocks of the menfolk when they returned from work.

She nervously raised it with the Sheriff that evening at dinner.

“Daddy,” she said, using the name by which she had become accustomed to addressing her captor, “I was wondering if you might take me out somewhere some time.”

At Tayla’s side, Edward laughed.  “Like for walkies?” he said.  “Do you want to piss on some trees and mailboxes, Snowball?”

Tayla blushed – but knew better than to contradict him.  “Just out – anywhere.  I feel like getting some variety would be good for the baby.  And you could be there, to make sure I didn’t run away or anything.”

The Sheriff didn’t look at her.  “No,” he said.  “Out of the question.”

“But Daddy…” protested Tayla.

“The discussion is over, Snowball,” said the Sheriff, wiping his mouth with a napkin.  “Edward, hit the cow’s tits with your shoe.”

And Edward did.


Tayla whined about it the next day to Bessie.

“I can’t be stuck here for the whole nine months,” she said.  “I should get out.  Get some sunlight.”

“There’s plenty of sunlight in the back yard,” Bessie reminded her.

Tayla blushed.  “I just mean…”

“I know what you mean,” interrupted Bessie.  “And it’s not a matter of you running away – there are cures for that – but a matter of give and take.  Your new Daddy has given you roof and board and accommodation and medical care, and what have you given to him?”

“I do chores,” said Tayla, sullenly.

Bessie slapped her.  “Your chores are an obligation of your gender.  They’re not a gift,” she said.  “Be a bit creative, Snowball.  You’ve been slutting around my husband’s house with your cow-tits showing and your cunt bare, provoking him most dreadfully, and what have you done about it?  Let him into your face-cunt – and then, only grudgingly.”

She looked at Tayla.  “Maybe if you try a bit harder, there’ll be a bit more flexibility from your Daddy.”


Tayla knew what Bessie was suggesting.  She was saying that Tayla ought to fuck the Sheriff – encourage him to stick his cock into her pussy, and rape her until he orgasmed.

Tayla had only ever had a cock in her pussy once, and that was the night of the rape that had impregnated her.  Her rational mind told her that it had been a traumatic event, which she had hated – a night that had ruined her life – but after retelling the story every night to the Rutmans while she masturbated, Tayla now had another set of memories superimposed over the truth, and they seemed much more real and vivid now to her than the original events.

When Tayla thought of her rape, she now thought of an intensely erotic night, one where she had been dripping wet at all times, one where she had relentlessly cockteased a man she was crushing on into rough sex in an alleyway.  In that fictional version, Tayla had gasped with slutty delight every time he had slapped her, and moaned like a whore as his dick penetrated her pussy.  She had orgasmed again and again at each fresh new degradation.  In that version, the moment that her rapist had spurted his seed into Tayla’s unprotected womb had been the best moment of her life, and when he was done she had desperately masturbated his sperm deeper into her twat while praying to be impregnated with a rape baby.

And so when Tayla thought about inducing her new “Daddy” to fuck her, part of her mind rebelled in disgust – but part of it practically drooled at the thought.  It wanted her to be ravished again, just like in the fantasy version of her rape.  The thought of being used – slapped – penetrated – made her gushingly wet, even as she knew that was wrong, and blushed at her sluttiness.

Really, she had to admit that her cunt *wanted* the Sheriff to rape her.  Her real objection was the submission it implied – the acceptance of her imprisonment and abuse.

But how was she ever to escape her situation if she couldn’t even leave the house?

And so she set about doing the unthinkable.

When the Sheriff came home from work that night, Tayla was far more affectionate than she had ever been before.  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth, and said, “Welcome home, daddy.”

And then when she knelt to kiss his groin as well, she nuzzled it extra forcefully, and then asked, “Daddy, can I eat my dinner off your cock tonight?”

The Sheriff grunted and said, “Edward’s will be fine.”

But Bessie stepped in.  “Darling, she’s just trying to bond with her new daddy.  You can let her eat with you just this once, surely?”

The Sheriff gave in.  “Very well,” he said.

Edward wasn’t fine with it, though.  Tayla saw his face darken, and immediately apologised (without being asked) for eating from someone else’s cock that night, and begged him to beat her tits in punishment.  He agreed, and Tayla put her breasts upon the table and waited as Edward beat each one five times with the heel of his shoe.  He laughed as milk squirted from Tayla’s lactating boobs, and made her lick it off the table once he was done.

Afterwards Tayla realised with some dismay that she actually had been feeling guilty about “betraying” Edward by flirting with this father, and that part of her brain had been telling her she deserved the pain in her tits as a punishment, and had been relieved when she received it.  It was a disturbing thought, and she pushed it away, not wanting to think about it.

And so Tayla spent her dinner kneeling at the Sheriff’s feet, licking her food off his erect cock like a kitten.  And when it was Tayla’s turn to talk, she talked about how much she had always wanted her Daddy to fuck her.  She had been telling fictional stories for some weeks in which she inserted the Sheriff into the role of her father, to help her bond with her new family, and now she just took it a step further.

She talked about how she had masturbated to the idea of her father fucking her on the night of her 18th birthday.  She talked about how she had always cockteased and flirted with her father.  She talked about how she wished it were her Daddy’s baby growing in her belly.

It felt vile and slutty, and Tayla stumbled a few times.  It was hard not to think about the idea of fucking her *actual*, biological father as she said these things – or picture that it was her real father’s cock she was licking her dinner off.

And the truth was that Tayla wasn’t sure what the truth was anymore.  Had she really never flirted with her real father?  Had she really never wanted her real father to fuck her?

The truth was that she’d always had a strange relationship with her father.  He was religious and conservative.  His pro-life views were the main reason that Tayla has fled her home town to seek an abortion.  He had been quick to call her a slut and a whore when she dressed in provocative clothes – and yet, whenever he was called on to buy clothes for her, he always made purchases from the sluttier end of the fashion pool, giving her tops that were too tight and skirts that were too small.

Whenever he hugged her, Tayla had often been able to feel an erection in his pants.  He would frequently manage to corner her for conversations in the hallway outside the bathroom when Tayla was emerging dressed in nothing but a towel.  He seemed to have a talent for bursting into Tayla’s bedroom unannounced at night just when she was masturbating and reaching orgasm, whereupon he would sit on her bed, and wish her goodnight, and kiss her on the lips, and Tayla would be forced to blushingly kiss her own father while naked and wet-cunted and horny.

Had Tayla really not provoked any of that behaviour?  Or had she always been the kind of slut who cockteased her own father?  She would once have said that she was pure and innocent, and that her father’s behaviour was strange – but no pure and innocent girl would be eating her dinner off an older man’s cock while talking about her desire to fuck her own father.

As Tayla blathered on about how she wanted her daddy’s cock inside her, the Sheriff looked over at his wife.

“Did you put Snowball up to this, Bessie?” he asked.

“I think Snowball has just realised that she’s been a bit of a cunt since she first came here,” said Bessie, “and she’s making an attempt to change her ways and show that she loves her new daddy.  Take it in the spirit that it’s offered.”

The Sheriff nodded – and then silenced Tayla mid sentence by grabbing her hair and pulling her face down on his cock.  Tayla gagged as the cock pushed into her throat, but she soon began eagerly sucking, and before long she was rewarded by her dessert – a hot load of her new daddy’s cum, which she swallowed obediently.

“Thank you, daddy,” she said.  And then – her voice a little choked with shame and fear – “Would daddy like to use me in… other ways?”

The Sheriff sighed.  “You know, Bessie, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you teaching Snowball to be a better woman,” he said.  “That’s the role of a wife after all.  But you know it’s only because the little slut wants to be let out on a leash.  I don’t appreciate you teaching her to be manipulative.”

Bessie went pale.  “I didn’t mean to…”

The Sheriff cut her off.  “Don’t lie to me, bitch,” he said. 

He looked down at Tayla.  “Yes, Snowball, I *will* use you – and I’ll do it in a way that helps you bitches remember that you should never, ever cooperate against a man.”  He turned to Bessie again.  “You remember that game we played with the pretty little shoplifter I arrested that time?”

Bessie looked miserable.  “Yes, darling,” she said.

“Good girl,” said the Sheriff.  “Clean away the dinner, and then Tayla can join us for the game in our bed tonight.”


The game was both simple and complex.  It started with the Sheriff and Bessie stripping naked.  Tayla, of course, was already nude.

The Sheriff got out an odd kind of tape.  It was like duct tape, and sticky on one side, but the other was covered with short, sharp spikes.  He cut off a strip and attached it to his own chest, between his nipples.  Then he took another, and applied it across Tayla’s back, just below her shoulderblades.

He put two leather cuffs around his own upper arms, each with a D-ring attached, and then a belt around his naked waist.

Next, he cuffed Bessie’s hands behind her back, and then gagged her with a ball gag.  He followed up by attaching clamps to Bessie’s nipples, and to her clitoris.  Each clamp had a length of chain attached.

“Come over her and lie with me, Snowball,” said the Sheriff, and he lay on one side of the bed, facing towards the middle. 

Tayla nervously got up on the bed and lay down beside him, in the middle of the bed, facing the Sheriff.

Then the Sheriff motioned to Bessie, and Bessie awkwardly joined them, lying behind Taylor.

Now the Sheriff reached out and took the chains connected to Bessie’s clamps.  One breast chain passed under Tayla’s left, and connected to the Sheriff’s shoulder cuff on that side.  The other went over Tayla’s right arm,, and connected to the other cuff.  Then the clitoris chain passed between Tayla’s legs, and connected to the Sheriff’s belt.

He did something to tighten all three chains – and suddenly Tayla and Bessie were pulled tight against the Sheriff – and against each other.

Tayla now realised the trap.  First, her tits were pressed tight against the strip of spiked tape on the Sheriff’s chest – and it hurt.  She tried to pull back a little, and was relieved to see that the spikes were in no danger of puncturing her skin, but still it was agony.

But pulling away from the Sheriff had two consequences.  First, it forced the tape on her own back to push into Bessie’s tits behind her.  And second it caused the chains attached to the Sheriff’s cuffs to pull painfully on Bessie’s nipples.  She heard Bessie squeak through her gag as Tayla tried to get away from the spiky pain in her tits.

And it was a similar situation with Tayla’s groin.  The Sheriff’s erect cock was pressed against her shaved twat, but if she tried to pull backwards, she would cause the chain to tug on Bessie’s clit – and there was only so far away she could get without pulling Bessie’s clit off entirely!

The Sheriff’s mouth was close to Tayla’s.

“Are you sure you want this, Snowball?” he whispered.

She didn’t.  She didn’t want any of this.  She didn’t want to cocktease a father figure, or fuck him.  She didn’t want to actively encourage the sexual abuse she was receiving in Modwina.  She didn’t want to be part of the Sheriff’s cruel game of torturing his wife.  She didn’t want this man’s cock inside her, and she didn’t want her breasts crushed against the painful spikes.

But nor did she want to just continue to wait and see what humiliation was next for her.  She wanted to do something – even if that something was only being allowed outside, possibly under supervision.  And if she wanted to do that, she needed to please the Sheriff.  She needed to please her Daddy.

“Yes, Daddy,” she breathed, blushing.

And just like that, she felt the Sheriff shift, and the tip of his cock poke against her cunt lips, and then suddenly it was sliding inside her.

She realised then that she was wet.  Why was she wet?  She wasn’t even in control of her own body these days.  She had had the vibrator in her during dinner, as usual, but time had passed – was she truly aroused by the thought of being fucked by her surrogate father?

Maybe she really did deserve all that was happening to her.

She couldn’t help but moan as the Sherifff’s cock slid into her fuckhole.  It felt good.  It was only the second cock that had ever been inside her vagina – the first being Oscar, who had raped and impregnated her.  

Despite the good feeling, she instinctively tried to pull away from it – and heard Bessie squeak through her gag behind her.  She had just pushed Bessie away from her husband, making the chain between her legs go taut, pulling painfully on Bessie’s clit.  And she had forced the spiked strip on her back into Bessie’s tits, even as the chains from Bessie’s breasts had pulled on Bessie’s nipples.

“Do you want to be daddy’s baby girl?” whispered the Sheriff.

She didn’t.  But she knew what he wanted.

“Yes, daddy,” she breathed.  

“Ask me for it,” he said.

“Please fuck your baby girl, daddy,” Tayla whimpered.  “I want my daddy to fuck me.”

The Sheriff smiled, and pushed inside her again.

“If your baby is a girl,” he whispered in her ear, “some day, when she’s 18, you’ll teach her to say those exact same words to the man who raped you.”

Tayla’s eyes widened in horror, and she tried to pull away again.  But there was nowhere to go, with Bessie behind her.  She couldn’t pull back far enough to escape the Sheriff’s cock, no matter how much she was willing to hurt the bound woman behind her.

The Sheriff laughed, and gripped Tayla’s waist, and pulled her tighter against him.  His cock pushed deep inside her, and no matter how Tayla struggled, she was helpless as the Sheriff fucked her – deep and powerful and remorseless.

And despite everything, it felt amazing.  Tayla hadn’t realised how much her pussy had been longing for penetration by a cock.  She felt like she was about to cry with humiliation and degradation – and despite that, she was moaning like a slut, and all she could really think about was how good her cunt felt.

“Fuck me daddy,” she heard herself gasp.  “Fuck your baby girl.”

“Do you want to cum, Snowball?” asked the Sheriff.

“Yes, daddy,” she moaned.  “Please let me cum.”

“Then make it happen, baby girl,” said the Sheriff.  And suddenly he stopped moving, his cock completely still within her.

She squealed in frustration – and knew what she had to do.  She took over, fucking herself against her daddy’s cock, eagerly and desperately.  

This motion, of course, brought agonising pain to Bessie.  She could hear Bessie squealing and sobbing behind her, as the chains pulled painfully on her tits and cunt, and as the spikes bit into her titflesh, but Tayla no longer cared that she was hurting another woman to gain her own pleasure.  She bucked furiously against the Sheriff’s cock, heedless of the cost.

And when she felt the Sheriff begin to shake, and felt his cock spurting cum up inside her, it triggered her own orgasm.  She made her daddy cum inside her.  It was so wrong – and it felt so good – and… the rest was lost in pleasure.

“Good cunt,” breathed the Sheriff – and that was good too.  It wasn’t the peremptory approval he had given her in the past for meeting his minimum standards, for being a well-behaved and acceptable bitch who learned from her mistakes.  This was genuine pleasure.  He genuinely approved of her.

And honestly, that was more than her real father had ever done.  She had waited her whole life for her father to call her a good girl, and he had only ever looked at her tits and called her a slut.  She wondered if he would have told her she was good if she had fucked him…

The Sheriff interrupted her by sighing.

“And before you ask, Snowball, yes, we’ll see about making it so you can go into town,” he said.  “There are some events you should be attending anyway.  But you may come to regret what you’ve asked for…”

And Tayla was so overjoyed to get what she had asked for that she didn’t even think to ask why she might regret it.


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