(Click here to buy the e-book of this story!)
Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five
===
On Friday Ivy felt sure that Archer was going to find a reason to fail her project again – but for the first time ever, when he looked at it, he smiled, and said, “This is an A minus. Not an A – but good enough. Well done, bitch.”
And Ivy felt herself fill with pride – and with relief. She could please Archer, if only she was proactively slutty enough. And filling an A2 poster with explicit pictures of her shoving household objects up her cunt – crowned by a photo of her own father’s erect dick penetrating her – turned out to be slutty enough (if only barely).
The result – to her delight – was that Archer didn’t make her re-do the assignment, and didn’t show any sign of planning to “make life harder for her” over the next week. She could just keep pissing in diapers, and tongue-kissing her father, as she had the week before.
On Monday, she discovered that her assignment topic for the week was “People’s Opinions of Ivy’s Tits”. It overjoyed Ivy that she was on week 5 of 6 – only this topic and one more, and she would be free – but it dismayed her because she knew what would be required for this one.
She was going to have to ask people to comment on her tits. And she knew that if the people commenting had only seen her tits with clothes over them, Archer was going to fail her. She needed to actually show people her breasts.
And the “people” couldn’t just be strangers. He would want her to pick people that would humiliate her.
She started with Archer and his friends. She got them to gather around her in the courtyard so that no one could see her past the boys, and then she lifted her top and pulled down her bra to show them all her large boobs.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Mediocre fuckbags,” said Archer. “You should be ashamed of them.”
“God, they’re huge,” said Theo. “Those are human tits, those are cow udders. You’re not a person, you’re a milk factory.”
“I bet they’re fun to hurt,” said Liam. “Can I try?”
Ivy wanted to say no – but resisting any idea the boys had was a bad idea. And she needed reviews.
“Yes, sir,” she said, in a small voice.
Liam immediately reached out and grabbed her tits, and squeezed hard, pulling and twisting the nipples until Ivy squealed.
“Yep,” he said, “they’re fun to abuse, all right.”
That night, Ivy started her project. She took a close-up photo of her tits, and then two more pictures of her topless, with her face visible, and she put all three on her assignment. Then she filled in the boys’ commentary.
“I have mediocre fuckbags.”
“I have cow udders.”
“I’m not a person, I’m a milk factory.”
“My tits are fun to hurt.”
The next day Ivy went to her English teacher, Mr Laughton. She stayed back after class and approached his desk.
Nervously, she raised her blouse. She had chosen not to wear a bra today, to make this easier.
“Sir,” she said. “Do you think I have pretty tits?”
Mr Laughton looked at her.
“Ivy,” he said, “I have been hearing a lot of rumours that you are something of a slut, and I see now that those rumours are true. It’s also the case that you are not doing very well in my class.”
Ivy knew it was true. It was hard to concentrate on English when you had a vibrator in your pussy and you were pissing into a diaper. And besides, most of her homework time was now spent on Archer’s projects.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, meekly – still exposing her tits.
“If you hope to pass my class, I think you’ll need to take some special steps,” said Mr Laughton. “And as far as your breasts go – it is my opinion that a woman’s tits can only be evaluated when they’re decorated with sperm.”
He unzipped his pants, and took out his erect cock.
“Well?” he said.
And so Ivy found herself sinking to her knees and masturbating her English teacher’s cock. She had never masturbated a man to completion before. She had played with her father’s cock, and even had it cum inside her, but this was still something new.
She must have been good at it, because before long Mr Laughton was moaning, and then he was spurting hot semen onto her tits.
“Very good,” he said when he was done. “Clean me up.”
Ivy knew what he wanted, and leaned forward to take his dick into her mouth and suck the juices from it.
When she was done, Mr Laughton looked at her and said, “You look like a complete whore, Ivy. Some girls are born to elegance and intelligence, and others are nothing but rapetoys, and you are the latter. Don’t bother cleaning my seed off you – it will be educational for you to be aware of it on your sex-melons for the rest of the day.”
But it seemed that Ivy would pass her English class, and that was enough.
“I’m a complete whore,” she wrote on her project. “I’m nothing but a rapetoy.”
Her other teachers turned out to have a similar interest in her – and a similar bargain, if she wanted to avoid failing their classes. It was sobering for Ivy to realise that every male authority figure at the school had fantasised about fucking her. Mr Parnett in Physics wanted her to strip nude so he could see her cunt as well, and take a picture. Mr Falwell wanted to cum on her face – and he made her leave his cum there, dripping, for the duration of his History class. The male students saw her, and they had to know what the white liquid on her face was, and they chuckled and made whispering jokes that she couldn’t quite overhear, and she knew that they all thought – no, they all knew that she was a slut.
She wrote down their commentary on her boobs.
“I’m a natural bimbo.”
“I’m too stupid to be good for anything except fucking.”
“I only look pretty when my tits are out and there’s cum on my face.”
And then there was the matter of her father.
Ivy had been getting “closer” to her father every day. He found excuses to tongue-kiss her several times each day now – when he picked her up from school or dropped her off, at home before dinner, and afterwards, and to say goodnight, and to say good morning. Ivy should have been discouraging him – but she wasn’t.
That was mostly because Ivy was required to piss into her diaper at home while talking to her father or kissing him – and she had decided that he was less likely to notice what she was doing if she kissed him. With the vibrator in her cunt, and her pussy wet, these kisses would often end up being long ones filled with genuine passion, and would involve her doing her best to conceal the fact she was orgasming.
She knew that nice girls didn’t orgasm while pissing and tongue-kissing their daddies. She guessed that she wasn’t a nice girl.
Her father would get them to watch a movie every night, and would insist on Ivy sitting in his lap. Often this would happen while she was still wearing a wet diaper, with the vibrator humming inside her, and she would have to sit very still, hoping her father didn’t feel the vibrations from her cunt, or the wetness of her panties, in his groin.
At first, her father picked exploitation movies, with a good share of bare-breasted women, but eventually he moved on to just screening porn. Ivy made the mistake of not challenging her father the first time this happened, instead just sitting on his lap, sure that he must be able to smell her piss and cunt juices, feeling his rock hard cock straining against her buttocks through his pants as nude women capered on TV.
Then, the next night, when she asked why they were watching porn, her father simply said, “You enjoyed it last night,” and Ivy had given in, terrified of an argument which might examine her behaviour in detail – and which might make her father explicitly admit that he had been aware that her cunt had been wet and her nipples had been hard.
He even began asking her which girls she liked in the movies, and Ivy would have to identify a girl with particularly large tits, or a particularly pretty cunt, or who made a cute face when she was being fucked.
On Thursday Ivy decided it was time to get her father’s opinion. When it was time for dinner she emerged from her bedroom topless.
“Daddy,” she asked, as he stared at her fuckmelons, “do I have pretty tits?”
He took a moment to answer.
When he did, he said, “You have beautiful tits, sweetie. They’re the best thing about you.”
Her father liked her boobs. He liked them better than her brain, better than her personality.
“But honey,” her father went on, “I think we need to talk about this.”
Shit, thought Ivy. Shit, shit. I’ve gone too far.
“I think you’d have to admit that you’ve been… a little bit of a cocktease recently,” said her father.
“I know, daddy,” Ivy said. She felt like she might cry. “I know. I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, honey,” said her father. “It’s not your fault you have… a body like that. But it’s very hard on me.”
And, as Ivy watched, he unzipped his pants and took out his cock.
“You see what you do to me?” he said.
His cock was rock hard, and there was a droplet of pre-cum on the tip.
“It’s not very fair, is it?” he asked.
“No, daddy,” said Ivy.
“Do you think you’re going to keep being a cocktease, honey?” asked her father.
She wanted to say no. She wanted to say it was all over yet.
But it wasn’t.
“Yes, daddy,” she said in a small voice.
“Then I think it’s only fair that you take care of what you cause, don’t you?” asked her father.
He was right. Ivy was a disgusting slut who had cockteased her own father. She had known this was coming for weeks now.
She went over to her father, and kissed him on the lips – and as she did, she wrapped one hand around his cock, and began to pump. Her father moaned with desire and pleasure.
And when the kiss was over, Ivy knelt at her father’s feet, and aimed his cock at her face, and kept masturbating him.
It didn’t take long. Soon her father was thrusting his hips, and then his cock was spurting hot cum all over his daughter’s face and tits.
“Thank you, baby,” he gasped, when it was over. He looked down at her and added, “Your tits look pretty, like that.”
And then he staggered away to his bedroom to hide his shame, in a mix of pleasure and guilt.
Ivy didn’t wipe the cum off her. She wanted to leave it on, to remind herself of what a disgusting slut she was for masturbating her own father. She went back to her bedroom and took a photo of herself covered in cum, and added it to her project. Then she wrote her father’s comments on it.
“My tits are the best thing about me.”
“I look pretty with my father’s cum on my tits.”
She would have to clean it off eventually. She wouldn’t use a towel – she would transfer it to her mouth, a further punishment for her sluttishness. And then she would need to go find her father and reassure him that it was okay for him to cum on his daughter’s breasts, so that she could then kiss him while pissing.
===
The next night after their porn movie, when Ivy got up her father unzipped his pants and looked at her significantly. And as Ivy got down on her knees, and took her father’s cock, and pointed it at her face, and began to pump, she knew that this would be a permanent part of their relationship now.
And it was all her fault.
===
You can read all eight chapters of this story right now in my e-book Lessons in Lust – available for only $4.99 USD in the All These Roadworks store! Making a purchase shows your appreciation – and it lets me keep writing hot new erotica! (Click here to view in store.)
===