Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four
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Carrie’s dinner with her son passed in a haze of degradation and – even more shamefully – arousal.
Every time her son Mitch forgot to call her a cunt when he spoke to her, she corrected him. Every time his eyes settled on her face, she would use her hands to bounce her tits a little, so that his gaze would drift back to her fuckbags.
She tried to pretend she didn’t have vibrators humming in her pussy and ass. She tried to pretend she didn’t have painful clamps on her nipples. She tried to pretend her cunt wasn’t soaking wet.
She talked about how women were stupid, and how they liked it when men forced them to have sex. She talked about how women learned best from being slapped. She talked about how it was Mitch’s right to see a woman’s tits, if he went on a date.
“What about other girls, if they… tease me?” asked Mitch.
“You have to be careful, Mitch,” said Carrie. “You don’t want to get caught by the police like Jayna’s father did. But… yes, if you can get away with it, you should force other girls too, if they tease you.”
Mitch thought for a moment, and then said, “What about Jayna? And Luna? They’ve been kind of slutty recently. Remember how Luna showed everyone her crotchless underwear?”
Carrie swallowed. She couldn’t believe she was about to say this. But Jayna could hear everything through the earpiece Carrie was carrying. And she knew what Jayna wanted her to say.
“Yes,” she said. “If your sister or Jayna are sluts, it’s okay to… treat them the way they deserve.”
Was she telling her son it was okay for him to rape his sister and foster sister? What was she doing?
“I won’t get in trouble?” Mitch asked.
“Not from me,” said Carrie. She knew Jayna would never let her discipline Mitch for something like that. “And… I can try to make your father understand.”
Mitch grinned.
“I can’t believe you’re saying all this stuff, mom – I mean, Carrie,” he said. “It’s a whole different side of you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. So she just smiled, and bounced her tits some more.
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They finished their meal and left.
On the way out the maitre d’ said, “Thank you, sir. I hope you and your… cunt… have enjoyed the night.”
“We did,” said Mitch. “Thank the man, cunt.”
“Thank you for calling me a cunt,” said Carrie, blushing.
And then they were outside, and making their way back to Carrie’s car. It was on the far side of the car park, in a dark shadow, far from the overhead lights. They got in, and Carrie went to start the car – but Mitch stopped her by putting a hand on her arm.
“Isn’t there something you’re forgetting, cunt?” he said.
Carrie felt a cold shadow of dread creep across her. She had feared this was coming. And it was her own fault. She had said all those things to Mitch…
“I know what I said, honey,” she said. “But…”
“But nothing,” said Mitch. “I deserve to see your tits, remember?”
“Mitch,” she protested. “I’m your mother…”
She knew Jayna could hear her. She knew Jayna wouldn’t approve. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
“You’re not my mother tonight,” said Mitch. “You’re my whore. You saw how the guy at the restaurant looked at you.”
“But…”
SLAP!
Mitch’s hand lashed out and slapped Carrie hard across the face. Just like she had told him to.
“Show me your tits, cunt,” Mitch growled.
She could see a tent in his pants, where he sat in the passenger seat. Her son was sexually aroused. By her. By slapping her.
“Please…” she whimpered.
SLAP!
The look on Mitch’s face showed her that he enjoyed slapping her. He could do this all night.
“Take your top off, cunt,” he instructed.
Carrie felt like she had no choice other than to do as she was told. Hesitantly, she shrugged the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and let it fall to her waist, baring her huge breasts.
“Why are you wearing those?” asked Mitch.
He meant the clamps on her nipples.
She blushed. “I… I lactate,” she said. “They’re to stop me leaking milk.”
“Milk?” he asked.
She didn’t know how to explain. Her mind defaulted to the words that Jayna used. “I’m… I’m a cow. I have cow-tits.”
Mitch laughed – and then reached forward and pulled the clamps off.
Carrie had to stuff a fist into her mouth to stifle a scream. He didn’t release the clamps – he just pulled them off. That would have been agonising by itself, but it also triggered the return of bloodflow into her crushed nipples – which hurt like having a thousand needles driven through her nipple.
And as the clamps came off, her nipples spontaneously squirted milk – all over Mitch.
He drew away, laughing. “What the fuck?”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
“I guess these were on you for a reason, cunt,” said Mitch – and reattached the clamps to Carrie’s nipples, causing even further pain.
It was too much. Carrie felt herself orgasming, her hips twitching as the vibrators buzzed away in her ass and fuckhole. Orgasming from pain in a car park in front of her son.
Mitch didn’t even notice. He just slapped her face again.
“You know, slapping you is pretty fun,” he said. “What about the next thing?”
“Next thing?” said Carrie, dully, still spacy from the orgasm.
“A kiss,” said Mitch. “You owe me a kiss.”
“Please, Mitch,” said Carrie. “Haven’t we done enough?”
He slapped her again.
“Shut up, cunt,” he said.
Then he reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair – a firm grip that made Carrie gasp with appreciation – and used it to pull her head towards him.
Her son was not an experienced kisser. When their lips met, he didn’t know what to do at first – but Carrie showed him, moaning sluttily, letting her lips melt against his, and pushing her tongue into his mouth. Soon he was pushing back, exploring his mother’s mouth with his own tongue. His spare hand went to her tits, and she felt him first touch, then stroke, then squeeze her right breast. When his grip tightened, hard enough to hurt, she felt herself orgasm again.
This was so wrong. What kind of mother tongue-kissed her son and let him grope her tits? She was a slut – a disgusting, perverted slut. She deserved to be slapped. She deserved to be degraded. She was so disgusting and wrong.
Her son stopped kissing her for a moment. He wrestled with his pants – and to Carrie’s horror, she saw him extract his penis from his fly. It was rock hard. This was her son’s cock, and she was staring at it. She had given him his erection. It was her fault.
Mitch tried to take one of her hands, and Carrie resisted, so he slapped her again, then seized her wrist, and pulled his hand onto his cock.
“Make me feel good, cunt,” he told her.
And Carrie, like the perverted submissive slut she was, began to masturbate her son’s cock.
Mitch resumed kissing her, moaning at the pleasant feeling of his mother’s hand on his dick. They kissed and kissed – and then Mitch stopped, and looked at her.
She didn’t understand – until, suddenly, she did.
“No, Mitch!” she protested. “It’s wrong! I can’t…”
“Shut up,” he said, and slapped her three times, hard.
Then he grabbed her hair and pulled, forcing her face downwards…
… towards his cock.
The tip of it, wet with pre-cum juices, bumped against her closed lips. Mitch slapped her again, her mouth popped open, and he pulled her the rest of the way down. Her son’s dick slipped between her open lips, and suddenly she was giving her son a blowjob.
She wrestled, and tried to rise, but Mitch had a grip on her hair, and he wasn’t letting her up.
“It’s okay,” he told her. “It’s okay, cunt. It feels good. Just suck. That’s a good cunt.”
At the realisation that her son was raping her – that she was tasting her son’s dick, and there was nothing she could do about it – she orgasmed again.
And then Mitch was using his grip on her hair to force her up and down on his cock, and Carrie did her best to suppress her gag reflex and please her son using her tongue.
“That’s it, cunt,” said Mitch. “That feels good,” He bucked his hips against her face, flexing his cock inside her mouth, pre-cum squirting from the tip.
She sucked, and licked, completely helpless to do anything other than be a masturbatory tool for her son’s pleasure.
And then, suddenly, he was cumming, flooding her mouth with his sperm – and she felt herself cum too.
“That’s a good cunt,” said Mitch. “Swallow. That’s right. Good cunt.”
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Far across town, Luna and her father were leaving a different restaurant. As they stepped out into the carpark, part of Luna dared to hope that her ordeal of humiliation was over – that they would go home, and never speak of tonight again.
But the sensible part of her knew that she wasn’t done yet. Because she hadn’t asked her final question yet. And because her father had expectations.
They got in the car, and Luna sat very still, waiting for her father to say something. But instead he just started the engine and began to drive.
They sat in silence for a while, Luna trying to get up the nerve to ask her question, her father keeping his eyes on the road.
Luna began to think that she wouldn’t ask it. She would tell Jayna she had. Maybe Jayna wouldn’t be able to tell that she was lying.
And then, suddenly, her father was pulling off the road. They were in a dark area, on a road surrounded by trees, and the car was rolling into a lightless car park near a poorly maintained public toilet block. There were no other cars around.
The car came to a stop.
Her father looked at her.
“Why are we stopping?” asked Luna. She wanted to call him Daddy, but the date wasn’t over yet.
Bill cleared his throat.
“You remember back at the restaurant we talked about expectations, Luna,” he said.
She did. She remembered that he had said that a man expected certain things of a woman who acted like a slut – the way that Luna had acted. And if he didn’t get them, he might just take them.
“Yes?” she said, acting innocent.
“I’m very worried about you,” said her father, “if you go on a date with a boy, and act the way you’ve acted. He’s going to expect a lot from you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Luna, hoping that her father would remember he was talking to his beloved daughter before this got any more awkward.
“Well, on a first date with a nice girl, a boy might expect a kiss,” said her father. “With a girl who’s a bit more experienced, he might expect to feel her tits a little. For a girl who’s more flirty, or who has a reputation as a slut, he’s going to expect a blowjob. From a girl who’s been a sexual tease all night, he can probably expect to fuck her. And from a girl who’s been completely shameless, he might expect something… kinky.”
Luna’s breath caught in her throat. She had been shameless. But her father couldn’t really expect her to have sex with him, could he? Here, in the family car?
“Daddy…” she breathed, breaking her rule.
“It’s okay, baby,” said her father. “I just want to prepare you for what you’re going to experience from boys. If you act the way you acted tonight with normal boys… well, you’re going to get raped. And maybe you want that.”
She didn’t want that.
“But I just want you to get used to the idea that there are… consequences for the way you act,” her father continued.
She squirmed.
“I’m sorry…” she said.
“I don’t think you really are, honey,” said her father, “or else you wouldn’t do it. But it’s okay. Why don’t we just kiss a little, and I’ll feel your tits? And you can think about how you’d feel if it had gone further.”
Kiss her father, while imagining what it would feel like for him to rape her. She wanted to die of humiliation.
But her father had unbuckled his seatbelt, and now he was unbuckling hers, and then he was leaning in, and Luna had no choice but to kiss him. It was an open-mouthed kiss, and his tongue entered her mouth… and then his hands were on her tits, feeling them through her top, squeezing them, and she felt herself make a humiliating, slutty moan of lust into her father’s mouth.
When her father broke the kiss, Luna asked her final question. It was the worst possible time to ask it – but it was the only time she could sensibly ask it.
He hated Jayna for making her do this.
“Bill,” she whispered, “what does your cock taste like?”
He drew back, looking at her face, his hands still on her tits.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked her.
She couldn’t say no. She couldn’t give any sign that she didn’t really want to ask these questions. So she just gave a tiny nod of her head.
She hoped he’d tell her, with words. She hoped he’d say it was salty, or savoury.
Instead he leant back, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, reached into his pants, and took out his cock.
There it was. The cock that had created her. Thick and veiny – and rock hard. Teased into aching arousal by her own slutty behaviour.
He took her hand in his and guided it to his dick, wrapping her small, soft fingers around its girth.
“Why don’t you pump it a bit, baby?” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Get some juice at the tip. And then you can… taste it.”
She felt herself beginning to pump her dad’s cock, running her hand up and down his shaft. She felt his cock twitch in her hand, and a drop of milky white liquid appear at the tip.
“There you go, sweetie,” her father said. “Just give that a little suck, and you’ll have the answer to your question.”
She didn’t want to. She stared at her father’s cock, her cunt wet, her face flushed.
And then her father put a hand on the back of her head, and started to pull her towards him, and she let it happen, allowing her father to guide her down, down, until her face was in front of his manhood. And then she opened her mouth and took the tip of his cock between her lips.
It tasted good, honestly. Like a salty cocktail.
She went to raise her head – but her father suddenly tightened his pressure on her head, keeping her down.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘blue balls’, honey?” her father said. “That’s when a man gets really aroused, but then doesn’t get any release. Some girls do it to men on purpose. It’s not nice. And you need to know if you do that to a man, there’s a good chance you’re going to get raped.”
He pushed down harder, and Luna felt more of her father’s cock press into her mouth.
“Once you get a man that turned on, it’s important to follow through, baby,” he said. “It’s important to do it willingly, otherwise the man will take it by force. Do you understand?”
She couldn’t speak with a mouthful of cock.
“In a moment you’re going to feel like you want to gag or vomit,” said her father. “That’s your gag reflex, because your throat is going to think it has something stuck in it. But it’s all in your mind, okay? You just have to relax and it’s going to be fine.”
He pushed her down harder, until her nose was flat against his belly, and she did feel it – his cock tickling her throat, and her body suddenly convulsively wanted to eject it. His hand had a firm grip on her hair, now, and she knew that she couldn’t pull away, so she did as her father said, and tried her best to relax.
Slowly, the urge to gag passed.
“Good girl,” said her father. “Now what you’re going to do is, you’re going to bob your head up and down on my dick. You don’t need to actually suck or blow. Just make it feel like your mouth is a cunt. You’re jacking me off with your lips, and providing extra stimulation with your tongue. Don’t swirl your tongue around or anything – just let my cock slide back and forth along it. Understand?”
She couldn’t indicate yes or no, but she held still. When her father relaxed his grip on her head, she did as he had instructed, beginning to raise and lower her head on his dick.
Her father moaned with pleasure.
“Oh, that’s good, baby,” he said. “That’s so good. Your mouth feels so good. It’s such a good cunt. You’re a good little cocksucking whore, baby. Such a teasing little slut. I love you, baby. I love how you’re sucking my dick. I love you so much. You’re such a good cunt. Cockteasing little bitch. This is what you’re good for. Such a good girl. Good little bitch.”
This was honestly more direct affection than Luna had received from her father since she turned 18. It was confusing to her. Hearing her father call her a bitch and a cunt and a cocksucking whore made her blush with shame and hurt – but hearing that she was a good girl and that he loved her gave her a feeling of pride and affection.
Her pussy was so wet. Her father wasn’t paying attention – his eyes were closed, lost in the pleasure – so she reached down and began to surreptitiously rub her twat. It felt good. Being aroused made it less humiliating and degrading to be sucking her own father’s cock. It made the bad thoughts go away.
In fact, it felt so good that within minutes Luna felt herself orgasming. She tried to conceal her shudders of pleasure from her father – but he was lost in his own arousal, and only moments after that he groaned, grabbed her hair hard, pulled her all the way down on his cock, and ejaculated.
She felt her mouth and throat flood with her father’s sperm, and she was forced to swallow it just to be able to breathe.
He held her there for a full minute after he was done, his cock slowly softening as Luna used her tongue to lick the remaining traces of cum from it.
And then he abruptly pulled her off his cock and pushed her away, looking at her with disgust.
“God, Luna,” he said. “I can’t believe you did that. What kind of slut have I raised?”
“I’m sorry…” Luna breathed. She started to cry.
“Don’t do that,” her father said. “Don’t pretend you weren’t desperate for my cum all night. I can’t believe you seduced me, you little whore.”
And then he softened his expression, and said, “Don’t worry baby. I love you even though you’re a slut. I know you can’t help yourself. I know you’re probably going to want to suck my cock again. We’ll help you, somehow.”
And Luna felt such a flood of relief at that affection – however qualified – that she found herself saying, “Thank you, daddy. I’m sorry, daddy. I love you, daddy.”
And they drove home with the taste of her father’s cum in her mouth, and her pussy so wet it was leaving a wet stain on her skirt.
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