Mommy's Hypnotic Discipline
Chapter One: Hypnotized Daddy Spanks His Daughter
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2018
Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this!
Anna Miller
“Valerie!” I roared when I walked into the disaster of my kitchen. Flour covered one counter and spilled over the floor. My induction stove, set on the island counter, had something burned and crusted to the glass surface. Eggshells were scattered over another counter, the milk was left out, and the sink was full of dishes. “Valerie, where are you?”
I whirled around. I couldn't believe the mess I found. My package couldn't arrive soon enough. What was wrong with that girl?
“Valerie!” I shouted as I marched back out of the kitchen, my hair sweeping about my face. My feet were tired from my day at work. My hips swayed. My fingers flexed and relaxed. “Valerie, where are you?”
“What, Mom?” my daughter shouted from the den, sounding exasperated.
I took a right down the short hallway, passing the guest bedroom and first-floor bathroom and burst into our den. It was an entertainment room. My daughter was sitting on the floor with her friend, Wendy, beside her. They both had pouches of frosting and were decorating cupcakes sitting on a baking sheet resting between them.
“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?” I demanded.
“We had to make cupcakes,” said my daughter, looking up, apprehension on her pale face. The nineteen-year-old college girl swallowed, holding a bag stuffed full of pink frosting. Her light-brown hair fell in a bushy sweep around her face, her brown eyes darting wildly, searching for salvation.
Her friend, our neighbor's daughter Wendy, swallowed. She had her black hair falling in a braid down her back. She was a slender and lean girl, only eighteen but not for much longer. She breathed in deeply, looking like a doe before the wolf.
She should be afraid.
“You left my kitchen an utter disaster!” I shouted at my daughter. “How did you make that much of a mess to make some cupcakes?”
“It was a work in progress,” my daughter said; her face set. She deliberately spread frosting onto a cupcake. “I need to get these made for the bake sale tomorrow. I told you about that.”
“You didn't say you would coat my entire kitchen in flour!” My blood pounded through my veins. “Why did you not clean it up?”
“We're still baking!” my daughter answered, giving me a defiant look. She used to be such a sweet thing. Now she just glared at me and fought with me. She never did anything right. When I called her out on it, she gave me lip. “So relax, Mom. Don't be a bitch.”
“What did you call me?” I demanded.
Wendy sat stiff as I passed her to loom over my daughter.
“A bitch,” she said, slowly, carefully. “I'll clean it up.”
“When?” I demanded. “Why didn't you just clean it up while the cupcakes were baking?”
“Because,” she answered.
“Because why?”
She shrugged and frosted another cupcake.
“You march in there right now and you clean the kitchen, young lady! I have dinner to cook, and I can't do it when it's filthy!”
“I'm frosting cupcakes!” she said. “When I'm done, Mom!”
“When you're done?” My voice rose an octave. “You'll do it right now!”
“Why?”
My hands balled tight, my fingernails biting into my flesh. My breasts rose and fell in my blouse as I fought the urge to grab her hair and slap her. “Because I told you to, that's why! Get off your lazy ass and clean it up.”
She frosted another cupcake.
“Um... I have to go,” Wendy said, her voice soft.
She set down her pastry bag and slowly rose. My daughter ignored her and kept frosting. My pulse throbbed in my throat. I didn't know what to do. Valerie was disobeying me. I should grab her and spank her. Discipline her. But that should be a man's job.
That was the problem. My husband and I never disciplined her.
Wendy fled, her braid dancing behind her.
“Well?” I demanded of my daughter. “Are you going to clean up your mess?”
“Eventually,” she said. “I'm busy, Mom.”
My teeth ground together.
“What's going on?” my husband asked from behind me.
I whirled around to see Mitch there, wearing his blue jeans and a tight t-shirt. He must have just gotten home from work. He was a tall man, his sandy-blond hair cut short. He had a buff face, a scar on his chin that was pale compared to his tan face.
“Your daughter is refusing to clean up the kitchen!” I told him. “She's giving me lip and called me a bitch.”
“I said you were acting like a bitch,” my daughter muttered. Then she hopped to her feet and darted past me to her father. She threw her arms around him, pressing that nubile body against his.
The little slut.
“Daddy, Wendy and I were just making cupcakes for the bake sale at my college tomorrow,” she said in that breathy, wheedling voice. It was all girlish and innocent now, all defiance gone. “I just haven't had a chance to clean it. I tried to tell mom that, but she just started screaming at me. She made Wendy flee by yelling at me.”
“She refused to clean it up. My kitchen is destroyed,” I said.
“Destroyed?” Mitch asked, giving me a suffering look. “Valerie, honey, you know you have to clean up after yourself.”
“I was going to do it, Daddy,” she said, squirming against him, rubbing that nubile, nineteen-year-old body against his. “I was. I was almost finished with the frosting. See. Then I was going to do it.”
My husband grinned down at her. “Well, it sounds like your mother needs you to get that done first, and then you can finish frosting your cupcakes. Okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she said.
My husband kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, honey, go get it done. I'm sorry your mother overreacted.”
I ground my teeth as my daughter darted off in those tight shorts she wore. They molded to her tight ass and left her long legs bare. My husband glanced at her for a second and shook his head, glancing back at me.
I glared at him.
“What?” he asked.
“That's it?” I demanded. “She called me a bitch, she defied me, and you're not going to punish her?”
“She didn't seem that defiant to me,” he said. “You don't have to yell at her. If you just act nicely, treat her like an adult, she'll respond.”
I marched up to my husband. “We've spoiled her. We have to stop coddling her. She's a brat. You need to be firmer with her.”
My husband rolled his eyes. “What, do you want me to do, spank her?”
“Yes!”
His smile fell off his face. “Jesus, I was joking. We both agreed that spanking's bad.”
“And look at the results. If you hadn't come here, she would have left my kitchen a disaster, and I would have had to clean it.”
He shook his head. “Anna, she's just a young woman. Relax. You're too stressed out. She's cleaning the kitchen. Pour yourself a glass of wine, sit down on the couch, and just chill.”
“I have dinner to cook,” I muttered, so disappointed in him. He was such a strong man, but he couldn't stand up to our daughter. Valerie just had to smile and press her small titties against him, and he would melt.
I bet he wanted to fuck her. To just bend her over and ram into her pussy. To fuck the little slut hard like in those dirty stories...
The doorbell rang.
I whirled away from my husband. I marched through the house, passing the kitchen. I caught a glance of Valerie leaning against the counter texting on her phone, not doing a damned thing. My anger swelled through me. That little whore needed to be spanked.
I would make sure her father started disciplining her.
I wrenched open the door and smiled at the sight of the delivery man and the package he gripped in his hairy hands. Finally. It was time to change things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mitch Miller
I yawned as I set up from my nap. I liked enjoying those on a Saturday afternoon after getting the lawn mowed and the hedges trimmed. I didn't need naps when I was in my twenties, but now that I was approaching forty, I appreciated them.
I stepped into the hallway and blinked to find my wife coming out of Valerie's room. Anna had a satisfied look on her face, her finger playing with the crystal necklace she wore. I tensed. Were they fighting again? Coming home the day before and finding my wife screaming at Valerie had soured me.
“Still mad at her for ruining your kitchen?” I asked. “She did clean it up.”
“Took her half the night,” my wife muttered. “No, no, I was just finding out how the bake sale went.”
“That's good,” I said, glad not to hear any shouting. My wife was just too hard on Valerie, always putting all this pressure on the poor thing. I peeked into my daughter's room, expecting to find her crying. I was ready to comfort her.
She was a good girl. I just wished Anna could see that.
Instead of finding her sobbing, Valerie was shaking her head as she sat on her bed. She looked dazed, her eyes a little unfocused. Then she blinked and furrowed her brow. She fell back on the bed, holding her fingers up in the air before her, twitching them.
“Did you catch her smoking weed?” I asked in a low voice. I breathed in but didn't smell that herbal tang.
“No, no,” my wife said, her fingers playing with that crystal. It caught the hallway light, flashing across my face.
It was a red crystal. A deep ruby. I frowned, glancing at it. The stone was shaped like a long, hexagonal tube tapering to points at the top and bottom. There was a... flaw in the gem. A crack running through its interior that I just wanted to... stare at. It was fascinating the way it bent and wound.
“Can we talk?” my wife asked.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head, my eyes staring at the necklace. She twisted it, changing how the crack looked. It magnified and warped as she shifted the faceted crystal. Another flash of light crossed my eyes.
The tension melted from my shoulders.
“Talking sounds nice.”
“Good,” my wife said. She took my hand while she kept playing with her new amulet. She gripped me tight and turned me around in the hallway. I followed along, trying to get a handle on that flaw, not caring where we went.
The more she twisted it, the more fascinating it was. It was incredible how it seemed to twist and writhe. Like it was alive. My wife was saying something. Her words were so hard to focus on. I just nodded my head, gripping her hand.
The crack twisted like a snake. It writhed. It undulated. It sometimes caught the light and flared up through the crystal, igniting like a fiery scar. Light flashed across my face as my wife talked. Her voice soothing.
Made sense.
Her hand covered the amulet.
I blinked, my thoughts heavy.
“You agree?” my wife asked.
“Yeah,” I said, still blinking. My stomach growled. I was starving. I was sitting on our bed. When had that happened? “Of course, I do, honey.”
“I knew you would,” she said and gave me a quick kiss on the lip, her dark-brown hair slipping off her shoulder. She rose before me, her large breasts swelling the tank top she wore. She had on a tight pair of shorts. She didn't normally dress like that.
“Those are nice,” I said as she turned, the shorts hugging her ass. “Haven't I seen Valerie wearing something like that?”
“I guess,” she said as my eyes followed her rump. “It's comfortable. Good for around the house.”
“Definitely,” I said, loving the sight of her ass. “Makes me want to spank you.”
She giggled. “Mmm, maybe tonight. Now I have to cook dinner. Chicken fine with you?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “Is it that late already?” I glanced at the clock, saw it was almost 5. “Shit, I guess I took a longer nap than I thought.”
“Guess so,” my wife said with a shrug. Then she sauntered off, humming. She was in a good mood. I was glad about that. The last few weeks, she'd been angry all the time about our daughter. Maybe she was finally getting that Valerie was becoming her own woman and wasn't a child any longer. She needed to be treated more like an adult.
I flexed my hand, my cock hard. I really wanted to spank my wife's ass. Maybe I'd fuck her doggy style. We hadn't done that in a while. It would be hot. Plowing into Anna's pussy and cracking my hand on her rump. That stinging sound would echo through the room.
God, that would be hot.
I lay back down on the bed, these naughty thoughts filling my mind. I almost masturbated. I hadn't done that in a while. The only thing stopping me was the desire to wait and enjoy my wife tonight. She was acting frisky. We were going to have a great time.
When she called me for dinner, I had a huge smile on my lips. I pulled on a fresh shirt and slapped on a touch of cologne. I whistled as I headed through the house. Valerie appeared from her bedroom in a pair of tight jean shorts and a tank top. She darted ahead of me for dinner.
She had a spankable ass, too, and...
I froze at that. A guilty flush shot through me. Why did I think that? Christ, that was my daughter. I knew she was growing up, but... she was my little girl. When she turned to go down the stairs, I shook my head as I noticed for the first time the profile of her small breasts cupped by her tank top. It was clear she wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts looked so perky.
“Jesus,” I muttered, my hard cock throbbing. I was too horny. Maybe I should have jerked off.
I kept my eyes looking towards the ceiling as I followed my daughter down the stairs, the image of her short-clad ass burning in my mind. My hand itched. I forced myself to think of my wife's rump. A plumper ass. Perfect for spanking.
My wife had a big smile as she set plates down at the table covered in breaded chicken, a bowl of salad in the center. She had a naughty glint in her eye. She came up to me and gave me a lingering kiss, pressing her body against me.
“Ugh,” my daughter groaned. “I'm right here.”
“Mmm, you're father's just such a sexy man,” my wife said. “So strong.”
I grinned at my wife, my dick throbbing. We were definitely getting frisky tonight. Wild sex, like we had before we had our daughter. I sat down at the head of the table, my dick leaden, my wife to my right, my daughter to my left.
My wife fingered her new necklace as we said grace.
Dinner was spectacular as usual. I had two pieces of chicken and devoured a large salad, my wife's homemade vinaigrette seasoning it to perfection. My daughter hardly looked at her phone at all as she chatted about the bake sale and how all her cupcakes had sold.
It was nice to have dinner as a family without my wife and daughter sniping at each other. It was peaceful. Enjoyable. I was glad my wife had finally recognized that Valerie was growing up. My eyes glanced at my daughter, that tight, pink top molding to her youthful breasts. They were small like my wife's were when we married. Anna's tits had grown two cup sizes with her pregnancy and stayed round and delicious after she'd weened our daughter.
I flushed, realizing I was ogling my daughter again.
“That was good, Mom!” my daughter said and then bounded to her feet. “I have homework.”
She darted off, her ass swaying in those tight jean shorts.
“Wait!” my wife called after her. “Your dishes!”
My daughter was out of the dining room, not listening.
“Get back here, Valerie!” my wife hissed.
“It's fine, I got it,” I told her, grabbing my plate and setting it on my daughter's. I stood up. “Relax.”
“I'm not going to relax.” Anna glanced at me. “Discipline your daughter.”
I blinked as that itch in my hand intensified. My daughter's rump flashed through my mind. Then this strange anger burned through me. It was almost like it flowed into me from beyond me. It spilled over me, this dark rage.
My daughter had done something wrong. She was being a brat. She had to pay for that. I whirled around and bellowed at the top of my voice, “Valerie, get back down here right now!”
I heard my daughter's steps freeze on the stairs.
“NOW!” I roared. “Get your butt back down here!”
My wife nodded in approval, this look of shining delight in her eyes. She folded her arms across her chest, her purple tank top stretched over her round breasts, her nipples pressing hard against the cloth. She wiggled her hips.
My daughter's footsteps padded down the stairs. She was taking her time. I could hear her slinking through the house. My anger swelled. Where had this rage come from? Was I really mad because she forgot to take her dishes to the sink?
My daughter crept into the dining room, her bushy hair spilling across her pale face. She trembled as she stared at me. “Daddy?”
“Tell her she's been a bad girl,” my wife moaned, her voice throaty.
“You've been a bad girl!” I growled. “You know you are supposed to take your dishes to the kitchen and rinse them off!”
“I...” She swallowed. “Daddy, I'm so sorry. I'll do it right now.”
She darted toward the table. She snagged her plates and darted towards the kitchen. My eyes locked on her ass in those tight shorts. My hand clenched. This strange urge to do something that I thought was wrong swept through me.
The sink hissed on as my wife came up to me. “It's good she's doing it, but she still has to be punished.” Her breast rubbed against my arm through her top. I didn't feel a bra. She leaned in and whispered, “Disciplined.”
My hand balled into a fist. My dick went lead.
“Valerie, when you're finished, get your butt back in here because we're not finished!” I growled.
“O-okay, Daddy,” my daughter gasped. Dishes rattled. “I'm so sorry, Daddy. It won't happen again.”
“You better believe it won't,” I said. “You'll learn your lesson today!”
My daughter slinked back into the dining room. Her face was colorless. She squirmed, her nipples poking hard at her top and her cheeks flushed. She moved to me. She looked up, her eyes so vulnerable. She hugged me tight. I felt her youthful body against mine.
She wiggled against me. She squirmed as she pressed her face into my chest. “I'm so sorry, Daddy,” she moaned. “It won't happen again.”
My dick ached and throbbed. My cock was rock hard as I felt her nubile body rubbing against my body. Her breasts pressed into my chest, her nipples hard. I felt how firm her tits were. She ground against my cock, stimulating me.
“I'll be a good girl,” she whimpered.
“The little slut is trying to get out of her punishment,” my wife said. “But you won't let her. You'll spank her.”
“What?” my daughter gasped.
“Yes!” I growled, that itch in my hand intensifying. “Bend over the table right now, drop your shorts and panties, and take your punishment, young lady.”
Where had this impulse come from? Why had I told her to drop her shorts and panties?
...spanking a bare ass is the best form of discipline...
My daughter broke away from me. She bit her lip but didn't object. “I... I was a bad girl. Bad girls should be spanked.”
“That's right,” my wife hissed. Her hands were rubbing at her stomach. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks flushed. “And you're such a bad girl, aren't you? Rubbing yourself against your father! Disobeying me!”
My daughter's fingers found the fly of her shorts. My heart beat faster and faster. My dick twitched as I heard the snapping pop of the fastener coming undone. The zipper rasped. Valerie's breasts jiggled in her pink tank top as she wiggled her hips back and forth. She shoved them down, revealing a pair of lacy, gray panties, cut narrow in the front.
“What a whorish pair of panties!” my wife hissed. “Where did you get those?”
“Bought them,” my daughter muttered. She turned around and I saw it was almost a thong. Most of her perky, young ass was on display as she bent over, thrusting her rump at me. I could see tufts of her brown hair peeking out around the edges. “With my money.”
She stepped out of her shorts and folded them up and set them on the chair. Then she trembled. She shoved her thumbs into her panties. She shoved them down her hips. That naughty garment rolled off her peachy ass.
I sucked in a breath. That ass was perfect. Smooth. Silky. My dick throbbed and ached. My wife whimpered beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, she slid her hands up her tight top and groped her tits. She massaged her breasts, squeezing and kneading those lush orbs. Her fingers dug into her bounty, her nipples straining against her blouse.
“Such a spankable ass,” my wife moaned, her hips wiggling back and forth.
Her amulet sparkled.
“Yeah,” I groaned.
My daughter bent over more. Her pussy peeked out between her thighs, covered in a soft down of light-brown hair. Her slit tight, virginal. Drops of her dew covered her hair. Was she excited by this?
...only a slut gets excited by being punished...
My daughter folded her panties and set them atop her shorts. Then she bent over the table. She pressed her face down on the wood surface. Her brown hair spilled over her cheek. She wiggled her hips back and forth, her juices trickling down her thighs.
“I was a bad girl,” my daughter said in that breathy tone of hers. “You have to... to spank me.”
“Yes!” my wife moaned. “Spank her, Mitch! Discipline our daughter! She's been so bad.”
I drew back my hand. I couldn't believe I was doing this. This small voice at the back of my mind screamed out in protest. That ass was just delicious. It begged to be spanked. Bad girls had to be disciplined.
Hard.
CRACK!
My hand came down on my daughter's ass. Her butt-cheek wiggled. A bright, red handprint appeared. My daughter's back arched. She let out a moan that was halfway between pain and halfway between pleasure.
My dick twitched and throbbed. I sucked in deep breaths as I felt the warmth of my daughter's ass lingering against the palm of my hand. This was insane. Why was I doing this? My hand itched. I had to spank her again. And again.
I had to discipline my daughter hard. I cocked back my arm. My fingers twitched and flexed. My heart pounded in my chest. My hand soared down at my daughter's ass. My dick ached. It seemed to go so slow. Like I was savoring this moment.
CRACK!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anna Miller
My pussy clenched as my husband delivered the second spanking on our slutty daughter's ass. The amulet worked. My daughter was proving that she was the slut I thought she was. Her juices glistened in her bush. She wiggled her rump. She moaned like a whore in heat as her father delivered her discipline.
My left hand slid down to my shorts. I pressed my fingertips into the waistband. I brushed my panties, caressing the lacy fabric. My fingers dipped into my underwear. They slid through my bush, moving lower and lower. My cunt was on fire.
My daughter was such a slut.
CRACK!
“Discipline her,” I moaned as my fingers found my hot flesh. I stroked myself as my husband drew back his hand. He was finally being that strong man I knew he could be. He was finally taking our daughter in charge and disciplining her.
We were idiots to buy into that BS about not spanking your children. They needed to be controlled, or they would turn into slutty brats. It was only a matter of time before the little whore showed up pregnant. She was wild.
Now she was leashed by the amulet.
CRACK!
My fingers rubbed up and down my pussy. My right hand ripped up my tank top, bunching it beneath my armpits and over my boobs. I squeezed and kneaded my breasts. I went back and forth, kneading my tits, my nipples on fire. This was the hottest thing in the world.
CRACK!
My husband's muscles flexed beneath his shirt. They rippled beneath the fabric. He was so strong. Finally, he was being a man. My daughter's ass wiggled. It glowed red. That bright hue, that blushing stain of discipline, made my pussy wet.
CRACK!
I thrust three fingers into my sopping cunt. I normally didn't start with three, but I was just so juicy. Pleasure fluttered through me. I groaned when my pussy clenched down on my digits, the pleasure sweeping through me.
CRACK!
“Are you sorry, young lady?” Mitch growled as he cocked back his hand.
“So sorry!” my daughter moaned, her hips wiggling back and forth.
CRACK!
My daughter's back arched. Her bushy hair rustled about her head. She moaned out in wanton need. More juices coated her pubic hair. The dew beaded on those hairs. It was so delicious. I thrust my fingers faster and faster in me. I pinched my nipple, twisting it, my breasts jiggling.
CRACK!
“Yes, yes, spank our daughter!” I moaned, my orgasm building inside of me.
CRACK!
“You were a bad girl!” my husband growled.
CRACK!
“You need to listen to your mother!”
CRACK!
“You need to clean up after yourself!”
CRACK!
“I'm so sorry, Daddy!” my daughter moaned, her ass a bright shade of crimson. Her butt-cheeks rippled with each spanking her father delivered.
CRACK!
A bead of her juices ran down her thigh.
CRACK!
I whimpered at the sight of it. She was a true slut, just like I knew. Just like I told her. I quivered, my amulet swaying between my naked breasts. I twisted my nipple, my pussy clenching around my fingers. Pleasure shot through me. It rippled through my body.
CRACK!
“Yes, yes, yes, spank the slut!” I moaned. My thumb slid up my folds and found my clit. I massaged my bud.
CRACK!
Sparks burst through me. I whimpered, trembling, on the verge of my climax exploding through me. I massaged my bud as my husband cocked back his arm again. My daughter's ass raised up to meet the stroke just the way a dirty, nasty slut would.
CRACK!
“Control our daughter!” I moaned, my legs quivering. I was so close to exploding. This was the hottest thing in the world.
CRACK!
“I am!” my husband growled. “Apologize to your mother now!”
My daughter glanced at me, her face flushed. Tears beaded in the corners of her eyes.
CRACK!
“Mommy, I'm so sorry for being a bad girl!”
CRACK!
“For not listening to you!”
CRACK!
“I'll be good from now on!”
CRACK!
“Yes!” I moaned. My daughter's ass glowed bright red. My fingers thrust deep into my cunt. This was all my dreams come true. I pumped my fingers faster and faster in and out of my twat. Juices spilled down my thighs. “Spank her pussy!”
My husband froze for a second, his hand about to fall. He glanced at me then. His eyes were glassy. He also understood now as he nodded his head. His cock tented his khaki shorts. My poor daughter made him hard.
She'd pay for that, too.
“Spank her pussy now!” I howled, saying the trigger word.
“Yes!” my husband snarled. “Naughty sluts have to be punished!”
My husband's broad hand swung down almost like a golf swing. He smacked his hand right into my daughter's cunt.
SMACK!
My daughter's head threw back. She cried out in orgasmic rapture. Her passion echoed through the dining room. Her body shuddered. Her rump clenched as my husband pulled his hand away. My fingers dug deep into my cunt, stimulating my snatch.
Juices gushed from my daughter's cunt. They flooded hot down her thighs and soaked her bush. The tangy musk of my daughter's pussy filled the air. I breathed in her whorish passion as she bucked and spasmed on the table.
“I knew it,” I howled, my thumb massaging hard, fast circles on my clit. “Only a slut would cum from getting spanked by her daddy!”
“I am a slut!” my daughter howled, just like I told her to. “I'm a naughty slut that wants her daddy! I'm so sorry, Daddy! I hugged you and pressed against you and acted like a whore around you to manipulate you!”
“I knew it!” I gasped as I came.
My pussy convulsed around my three digits. My flesh rippled. Juices spilled around my fingers. My tart musk filled the air, mixing with my daughter's tang. My eyes fluttered as the pleasure screamed through me.
Stars danced across my vision. I twisted my nipple, my head thrown back. My crystal amulet swayed before me. It worked just like the website advertised. I whimpered in delight, my pussy convulsing around my cunt, juices spilling down my thighs.
“You're a naughty slut!” I howled. “Now fuck our daughter, Mitch! Give her a real punishment! Show her what happens to naughty fucking teases!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mitch Miller
“What?” I gasped even as my hands went to my shorts. The pop of my fastener coming undone echoed through the living room.
“You have to fuck our daughter,” my wife moaned, her hand kneading her tit, the other one ripping out of her shorts, her fingers soaked in her juices. “She's a slut! You heard her!”
“But it's not right,” I groaned as my wife shimmied out of her shorts. My own zipper rasped. My wife's tits swayed, plump and round, her dusky nipples fat and hard.
“Mitch, honey, I love you,” my wife moaned. “But you have to discipline our daughter with your cock!”
I blinked as I pulled my cock out of my boxers. I looked down and saw myself lining up with my daughter's pussy. I had no control. That voice screamed in my head that this was wrong, but my dick was so hard. I was a monster. I couldn't help myself.
“Sorry,” I whispered as I nuzzled my cock through my daughter's silky bush and pressed against her silky folds.
Against her hymen.
I felt my daughter's virginity against my dick as my wife ripped off her tank top, her amulet flashing as it danced between her breasts. She came up behind me as I stood rigid, on the precipice of violating my daughter's pussy. Of popping her cherry.
What was wrong with me?
My wife pressed behind me. I felt her tits through my t-shirt. My dick quivered against our daughter's pussy. “You have to punish her,” she whispered. “Discipline our daughter with your cock, dear.”
...a slut has to be discipline with her father's cock, or she will fuck every boy she can and wind up pregnant...
I was a terrible father for this. I thrust forward hard.
My daughter whimpered as I pushed against her hymen. I felt her cherry stretching and stretching. Then it popped. I buried halfway into my daughter's barely legal pussy. Her tight sheath wrapped about me.
I groaned at the rapturous heat that spilled around my cock. My daughter was so tight. So wet. So silky. It was incredible. Did Anna feel like this our first time twenty years ago when we were nineteen? I groaned as I slid deeper and deeper into my daughter's pussy. Her flesh engulfed me. My heart pounded in my chest as I sank to the hilt in my daughter's flesh.
“Goddamn,” I groaned.
“Enjoy punishing her,” my wife purred, hugging me tight as my dick marinated in our daughter's pussy.
“Daddy!” squealed my baby girl. “Oh, yes, Daddy! Punish me! Punish me with your cock.”
I was in my little girl. As my wife pulled away from me, I drew back. I slid through my daughter's pussy. Her flesh squeezed around me. She gripped me with this passion. I groaned at the heat soaking down my shaft. My balls grew tighter and tighter.
I buried to the hilt in my daughter's cunt. My balls smacked into her clit. She gasped and groaned, her pussy clenching around my dick. My back arched as this wondrous ache seized me. Pleasure spilled down me.
I was a monster for loving this.
I gripped my daughter's hips and fucked her. I pounded her deflowered pussy. My crotch smacked into her ruby-red ass. Her tight butt-cheeks rippled. She clenched down around me, gasping, groaning, the table shuddering as I fucked her. My balls smacked into her, heavy with my cum.
I couldn't cum in my daughter, but... but... I couldn't stop fucking her either.
“Jesus!” I gasped. The tip of my dick throbbed in her tight cunt. Her silky flesh massaged me. “Jesus, Valerie!”
“Take your punishment, you little slut,” my wife moaned. She was on the other side of the table, her dark-brown hair swaying about her face. She mounted it, her naked tits swaying.
Light glinted off the amulet. The flaw in it almost drawing my attention but...
I had my dick buried in my daughter's juicy twat. Her flesh clenched around it, massaging me as I buried over and over into her. I groaned, pumping hard, fast. I rammed deep into her nineteen-year-old cunt. My baby girl gasping, moaning.
“You were such a wicked child,” my wife purred. She seized our daughter's bushy hair. My wife pulled Valerie's face, guiding our daughter's mouth to my wife's pussy. “Apologize. Make mommy cum.”
A hot lust shuddered through me as I didn't so much as see as witnessed the effect my daughter's licking had on my wife. Anna's head threw back. She let out a shuddering moan while Valerie's juicy pussy clenched around my dick. I groaned, my hips thrusting forward hard.
Fast.
I pounded my daughter with powerful strokes. I buried again and again into her. She whimpered and moaned. Her head tossed back and forth. Her pussy clenched around me as she feasted on her mother. Her gasps were incredible. I loved the sounds she made while I pounded her pussy.
I drove to the hilt in her again and again. I buried into her with hard thrusts. My daughter groaned, her eyes squeezed shut. Her hips wiggled back and forth, stirring her pussy around my cock as she feasted on her mother's pussy.
“Yes,” I groaned, my lusts rising, “apologize to your mother!”
“Mmm, she is, dear,” my wife moaned, her breasts heaving, the amulet dancing between them. “She's got her tongue deep in my pussy. That's what your mouth is for, young lady! Not arguing with me, but licking my cunt!”
...a good girl licks her mother's cunt, and you should encourage our daughter to be good...
“Yes!” I growled, thrusting harder. “Eat your mother, honey! Feast on her!”
I pounded my daughter hard. Fast. I drove my cock into her deflowered depths. My wife's moans echoed around me as I fucked our little girl. Valerie's silky, tight pussy massaged my dick. The ache built at the tip. That itching pressure. My balls grew tighter.
I was going to cum in my baby girl. I was going to fire my seed into her depths. I groaned, shocked by the lust gripping me. This forbidden, incestuous passion gripped me. I drove hard and fast into her, my crotch spanking her ass with every plunge into her juicy depths.
“Yes, yes, fuck our daughter!” my wife moaned. “Oh, Mitch, she's going to make me explode. She's such a good girl now! She's not a slut now! See! See! Discipline! That's what she needed!”
My daughter whimpered.
“You're going to cum on your daddy's cock, aren't you?” my wife moaned, gripping our daughter's hair and grinding on her face.
“I am!” Valerie moaned into her mother's pussy.
My daughter's cunt squeezed about my cock as I plunged into her.
“My ass hurts and my pussy feels amazing!” my daughter moaned. “I'm going to explode. I can't help myself!”
“Yes!” I growled. “Cum on my cock!” Why was I saying that?
...good girls need to be encouraged...
“Explode on my dick!” I growled. “Then I'll cum in you!”
...good girls need their daddy's cum in their pussies...
“I'll pump so much cum into your pussy!” I growled, slamming into my daughter.
“Yes, flood the little slut!” my wife moaned. “Oh, yes, suck on my clit! Mmm, you're mommy's good, little pussy licker now, aren't you?”
“Yes, Mommy!” my daughter moaned.
I slammed hard into my daughter's cunt. I was on the verge of exploding, but I held back. She had to cum first. She had to explode. I thrust hard, fast. If she orgasmed, she would get her reward. It would reinforce her punishment.
Show her a better way to act. To be our whore.
Where did these thoughts come from?
“Daddy!” my little girl moaned. Her pussy grew hotter. “Oh, Daddy, your cock... Yes!”
Her pussy rippled about my dick. She spasmed just like her mother would. My daughter's cunt sucked at my dick, hungry for my cum. I groaned as I drew back through her convulsing heaven, the pleasure surging down my shaft to my balls.
The tension built at the base of my cock as I buried into her.
“Cum in her!” my wife howled, her tits heaving, light flashing off the amulet. “Cum in our daughter's cunt right now!”
“Yes!” I growled, my balls full of cum. The pressure hit its peak.
My dick erupted into my daughter. Into her fertile pussy. She was a mix of my wife and me. I pumped her flesh full of my incestuous seed. The pleasure slammed through my mind. This intense rush of bliss spilled ecstasy across my thoughts.
Stars burst across my eyes. We were all moaning, all cumming. My daughter squealed. My wife gasped. I grunted. Valerie's pussy milked my cock. Her tight flesh massaged my shaft, spasming so hard.
“You're cumming in me, Daddy!” my daughter howled.
“Yes!” my wife hissed. “She's such a slut! Our slut!”
“Yes,” I groaned as my pleasure peaked in me. I hung there for a moment, my dick spurting the last of my seed into my daughter's pussy.
Then I crashed into guilt.
“Jesus,” I gasped, ripping my cock out of my daughter. I stumbled back in horror. No longer was her pussy tight. She gaped open. My cum, pearly with streaks of pink in it, spilled out of her and stained her bush.
I stared down at my softening cock soaked in her juices.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I groaned, the room spinning around me. “I just fucked our daughter.”
“Yes,” my wife moaned, trembling on the table. “Oh, god, it was amazing. You disciplined her.”
I lurched to the right, hitting the buffet. I gripped the polished wood. I sucked in breaths as I struggled to understand. What had I just done? I just violated my little girl. Where had these lusts come from? These impulses? Jesus, they echoed in my mind.
...good girls need their daddy's cum in their pussies...
...spanking a bare ass is the best form of discipline...
...a slut has to be discipline with her father's cock, or she will fuck every boy she can and wind up pregnant...
What sort of monster was I?
I felt sick. I darted for the kitchen, for the sink. I couldn't believe I just did that. My wife called after me, but I couldn't understand her over the guilt screaming through my veins. I stumbled into the island, the corner slamming into my naked hip. I bounced off and grabbed the other counter for support and...
Stared at the cordless phone sitting there.
I snagged it. I was terrible. I couldn't be around my little girl. Not if I hurt her. I picked up the phone. My fingers dialed the three numbers. I brought the receiver to my ear. I pressed it there as my stomach coiled.
“Mitch!” my wife shouted.
I couldn't look at her.
“911, please state the nature of your emergency,” the calm words of the woman on the other end of the line said.
“I... I need to report a crime,” I groaned.
“Mitch!” my wife shouted. “Look at me!”
Something flashed in the corner of my eyes. I groaned and said, “I... I...” I had to confess what a monster I was. I couldn't be around my sweet Valerie. “I molested my daughter!”
To be continued...
