Let me recap briefly how I found myself in a very awkward position. A week ago, I had discovered that my daughter had been working in an adult bookstore at a glory hole. This knowledge came after I did, if you’ll excuse the crude humor. For a few days afterwards, I was guilt-ridden at what I had done to my daughter, and potentially to my family. However, the guilt faded and was replaced with anger. I was furious that my daughter would do something like that. By the next Friday evening, I was ready to take my anger out on my daughter. My plan was to turn her into the whore she was, and for her to become my personal slut. I had had her stripped naked, on her knees, and swallowing my cum just as her mother, my wife, appeared at the top of the stairs. The two kissed before she took a seat, and stated that we needed to talk.
“You were right mom”, Marci said, a big smile pulling at her lips, “Being dominated by dad was amazing. I nearly came when he called me a whore”. She was still on her knees, perspiration covering her naked body, glistening in the dim light.
Brittany merely smiled at her. “Go clean yourself up slut, take a shower, then come back here. I think by that point, daddy will be ready for you again. And don’t even think about cumming. Remember, your cunt belongs to daddy now”. I watched as Marci stood, and excitedly flew from the room. I couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she bounded up the steps.
I sat there, naked, trying my hardest to wrap my head around what was going on. All the scenarios I had planned for the weekend went flying out the window the moment Brittany saw me pull my spent cock from our daughter’s mouth.
“Relax honey”, Brittany said, pulling her legs up under herself on the couch to be more comfortable. I was so terrified, I couldn’t even lift my head to meet her gaze. “Okay, well, maybe just listen then”, she said, realizing I wasn’t in any frame of mind to relax. “You were right about one thing”, she started, “things are going to be different here from now on”. She paused, seemingly to organize her thoughts, “Marci and I have been planning for this day for months”.
It all started about a year ago, when I found her diary. Not the diary she keeps in her dresser, where she goes on about the boys she likes, school, and what her and her friends were up to on the weekends. What I found was her secret diary, stashed inside the box-springs of her mattress. It chronicled in excruciating detail how she was developing, and how she started exploring her body, and finding out what she liked sexually. I don’t know why I continued to read it, but I was just too excited to stop myself.
She wrote about some things she’d read online, stories of men and women dominating little girls. She read even more online, and found stories of dads who dominate their own daughters. According to the diary, the stories she read brought her to her most powerful orgasms she had ever experienced.
And as I read, I found myself reliving my own sexual experiences, comparing them to the sensations Marci wrote about. Even as my fingers roved over my clit, finding myself wetter than I had been in years, I knew I had never experienced anything nearly as intense. I came reading the diary of our fifteen year old daughter, with more passion than anything I had ever felt before. In that moment, as I climaxed, I succumbed to my own sexual reawakening. Before that moment, I had never craved the sensual desires of another woman. But as my climax subsided, my slick fingers still turning the pages of her dirty diary, I could not think of anything else, my desires aflame with thoughts of what my daughter could do for me sexually.
I didn’t see Marci in the same light again after that. She wasn’t a good little girl anymore, that innocence was lost on the pages of her secret diary. Her whole teenage body exuded sexuality every time I looked at her. I noticed her breasts growing, filling in her tight t-shirts, and her hips gain a shapely curve to compliment her slender form. In short, I didn’t see our daughter any more, I saw an object of sexual desire, and I knew I was going to have her.
Every chance I got, I ran to her room to read more and more of the deviant things she would write about. I spent nearly a month reading through the pages of the journal, each time coming to a greater understanding on how our teenage daughter’s mind worked. And each time also coming to a mind blowing orgasm.
My heart began racing as I made the plans to take our relationship beyond mother and daughter: She was going to be my sexual plaything, my very own slut. I was going to dominate her just as she had fantasized about.
It was a Saturday morning. Cody had headed out to the lake with some friends, and David was called into work that morning. That was going to leave Marci and I alone in the house, all afternoon.
“I read your diary”, I said without preamble, sipping my coffee in my bathrobe, as Marci slowly ate from a bowl of cereal. “Your other diary”, I clarified.
Marci nearly choked on the last spoonful. She was sitting directly across from me at the table. She wasn’t exactly dressed up, probably expecting to be lounging around the house all day. She had on some gym shorts, and a yellow baby-doll top, but nothing else. Her young pert nipples were strained against the thin material tightly stretched across her chest, her tiny pink areola obscured by the vibrant yellow material.
“Your entries were quite vivid”, I said, trying to make my voice sound dominate. “I want you to be perfectly honest with me”, I breathed deeply, exhaling a breath slowly between my lips, before looking at my daughter with a lustful passion. My next question was going to be one that forever changed our relationship, “do you really want what you write about? Do you really want to be a submissive…slut”, I spoke the last word with far more difficulty than I had thought. It was the first time I had called her that, the word almost foreign in my own mouth.
“Yes”, her answer was quiet, her head hanging down, as if she was ready to cry.
“Good”, I said, untying the knot that held my robe closed. I stood from the table, pulling the robe open, letting her see my naked body. It was something she was going to have to get used to seeing from now on. “Will you be a good little submissive slut for mommy?”
She seemed to ponder the question for a while, transfixed on my nude form. “Yes, mistress”, she spoke the title with reverence, granting me the power over her. I felt the power conveyed in her words: She was giving herself completely to whatever fetishes I could imagine. “But I’ve never been with another girl before”, she admitted, still staring at my chest, and clean shaved mound.
I hadn’t either, but I was a worldly woman, and knew well how to please myself. I figured I could teach Marci those skills, and forge her into the slut I desired. “I’ll teach you everything…you worthless cunt”. I walked around the table to stand behind my daughter. Again, I felt another surge of sexual energy. I was about to use my own daughter as a sexual plaything, a task no mother should consider about her own daughter. “Are you wet”, I asked, “is you cunt dripping with desire”, I whispered in her ear. My hands held the table on either side of my daughter, as my body leaned forward, her head resting between my 38C breasts. I had her pinned.
“Yes mommy”, she said, her breaths ragged.
I slapped her arm, playfully, not enough to hurt her, but to tech her a lesson. “I want you to talk dirty, you filthy whore. Answer me again”.
“Yes mommy, my cunt is dripping. I’m wet just thinking about all the ways you can use my young teen body”.
My hands now wrapped around her, holding firmly to her nearly exposed tits. I mauled them, relishing the sensation of holding the young girl in my hands, knowing that she would do whatever it took to please me. I twisted her nipples between thumb and forefinger. And excited moan escaped my daughter’s lips as the pain faded and was replaced with lust.
I let go of her breasts for now. I didn’t want to be fighting with the flimsy material of her shirt. I wanted to press my flesh against hers. I took hold of the hem of the shirt, and pulled it up over her head, her arms reaching upwards to help remove the garment. And with a flick, it was lying in a forgotten pile somewhere in the kitchen, as my daughter was topless before my eyes.
I still stood behind her, looking down the front of her body, seeing nearly the same view she had of her own chest. Her labored breathing causing her tits to swell with each breath. Her tiny areolas almost invisible against the pale white skin, and the pink nipples that jutted outward. My hands again reached out, desiring to feel the young girl’s tits in my hands, just as I had held my own breasts in moments of passion.
Again, I tweaked her nipples, and again she moaned. The sensual sounds she made echoed endlessly in my mind, feeling my thoughts with incestuous desires for my fifteen year old daughter. My mind could only register that I was moments away from an explosive sexual experience, and this body in my hands, moaning in her own pleasure, was going to get me there.
“Take off your shorts”, I commanded, reluctantly releasing her from my grasp. I took a step back to watch the performance she was about to give.
Marci stood, and moved the chair away. She didn’t turn around, as her hands move into the waistband at her sides. She leaned forward, her tits resting against the table, as she lowered her shorts, revealing that she wasn’t wearing panties. I stared at her shapely ass. I remember all the comments David had made about my own butt when we were dating, and when we were first married. And I could only hope what he saw years ago was mirrored in the firm ass of our daughter now.
“Turn around”. She didn’t hesitate, spinning in place to have her nubile body fall directly under my gaze. My eyes went instantly to her mound, a dark triangle of hair pointing to the cleft between her legs. “From now on, you are to keep your cunt smooth. You will shave yourself clean right after I am done with you tonight”.
I stared at her for what seemed like forever, drinking in every detail of her body, the body she was willingly giving to me for my sexual pleasure. She was short, still a growing girl. Her breasts were small, having gotten her first training bra only last year. She had trimmed her pubic hair, turning the tangle into a neat dark triangle. Her tan lines were evident, around her chest and across her hips, where bikini lines showed signs of sunbathing.
I couldn’t wait any longer. This Venus of a girl was offering herself to me, and I was going to drink her ambrosia. My nipples hardened as the cool air of the dining room caressed my chest, and my thighs became slick as my mind envisioned what she was about to do for me. “On your knees, you fucking slut”, I ordered.
Obediently, she fell to her knees before me. I parted my legs slightly, having her perfectly eye-level with my pussy. I watched her blue eyes lock with mine, as she inhaled sharply, absorbing the aroma of my arousal. “Lick my cunt”, I said, no longer able to control my lust.
Her head fell forward, brushing against my lower abdomen. For the first time, I felt the hot breath of my daughter on my pussy, exciting me. Her small nose pressed up against my mound, as her hands reached between my thighs, to pull my lips apart. She blew softly at my exposed pussy, sending a shiver up my spine. In all my life, I never experienced the sensation my daughter gave to me at that moment. The cool air gently caressing my most intimate spot, the breeze only fanning the flames that burned with desire surrounding my labia.
Then her tongue touched me. A thousand volts of electrify passed between her tongue and my clit as they made contact for the first time. I couldn’t help but to grab her head, holding it against me tightly, as her inexperienced tongue gave me sensations I hadn’t known were possible. Of all the times David had eaten me out, despite his self-proclaimed mastery of cunnilingus, it had never caused the surge of sexual desire that I was felling under my fifteen year old daughter’s efforts. “Oooooh, fuck”, I hollered, my voice echoing through the house.
I could feel her smile as she continued. She lapped at my inner lips, each time ensuring her tongue played seductively with my clit. And each time, a wave threatened to overtake me, to crash along the shores of a powerful orgasm. And as her tongue flitted back down to restart its sensual trail along my intimate lips, the wave broke, with the promise of the next bringing me be closer. “Eat mommy’s pussy, you whore”, I yelled, forgoing all pretenses of being quiet.
As the minutes passed, my climax building, my mind became flooded with the desire. I held her head tighter, intent to cum on my little girl’s face. My mind imagined her like that, my cum glistening on her cheeks, smeared across her lips, knowing each breath she took would be filled with my aroma, the aroma of cum and sex. “I am mommy’s whore”, she proclaimed, muffled by my pussy, but the words still rang clear in my head.
And it was the proclamation, combined with a final flick of her tongue across my sensitive clit, that sent me over the edge. I gripped her head hard, holding her face to my twat as I coated it with my cum. “Hold out your tongue”, I yelled at her through clenched teeth, eager to feel the electric sensation of her tongue on my clit as I came. Spasms wracked my body as I convulsed uncontrollably, all my effort used to hold myself up on weakened knees, and to hold my daughter’s face to my crotch.
I was covered in sweat, having just climaxed harder than I ever thought possible. The twin taboos of being with another girl, and that girl being my own daughter filled me with a perverse pleasure, fueling my orgasm. Even as my breathing started to return to normal, I still held her head in place. And she continued to lick, though she lapped between my slick thighs, and not my lips. She was going to become a very accomplished cunt-licker. I was going to make sure of it.
I released her head, her face coming away from my crotch, her heavy breathing still sending sensual chills up and down my spine as it cooled the warm dampness between my legs. “I love you mom”, she said, looking up into my eyes. And as my eyes enveloped her, I saw my fifteen year old daughter, naked, her own body covered in sweat, her face coated with my sweet cum, she smiled up at me and professed her love. I had heard her say those words a million times before, each as sweetly as any young girl would tell her mother. But this time, her words had a whole new meaning behind them. She had come to know me in a way that only her father had before, and her eyes craved more. The desire in her eyes told me, told the world, that she wanted to be used, abused, carnally taught how to please both men and women.
“I love you too, slut”, I replied, lovingly stroking her matted blonde hair.
She remained motionless, enjoying my attentions, but it became clear there was something else on her mind. “Will you help daddy dominate me too”, she asked, her sweet sounding voice defying the vulgar act she wanted.
At that moment, I was filled with a primal selfishness. I didn’t want to share my daughter with anyone. I wanted to keep her all to myself, savoring all the delights the underage body could offer. But I knew, sooner or later, she would go to him, and throw herself to her father. In such a manner, he would say no, of course, denying his own daughter of her ultimate sexual fantasy. David was just too sweet, too devoted, to risk defiling his daughter. Of course, I learned quite a bit about him in our years of marriage, and I knew exactly what buttons to push for him to become the dominating man I knew he could be. “Of course, slut”, I said after the long deliberation, “but we have to be very careful, and plan everything in advance. We have to make him think it’s his idea to dominate you. And you’re going to have to be train on how to please him”, I smiled, knowing just who to call for her training.