Daughter's Slut - S01 E62

Story 9 months ago

Daughter's Slut - S01 E62

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 62

A video played.

I saw myself writhing in whorish passion beneath Faizel, moaning out my rapture as our eldest son fucked me so hard on his bed. You could hear his balls smacking into me. I remembered that day. It was when Leyla came up to talk to me about Kimmy wanting to be a slut. I didn't realized she'd recorded it.

My daughter had been so shocked to find me fucking her brother. She thought...

She thought I was a good, Muslim woman before. That I was what she always wanted to be. She never thought I could cheat on my husband, and then she caught me with Faizel. But I had convinced her that I wasn't a slut. That I was just doing things to help out my sons, or to help her to be a slut. I knew I made her understand why I was doing such wanton things. I even had my story for tomorrow all figured out. How I would “reluctantly” agree to fuck Principal Carver with Leyla just to let her keep being a whore.

“I was just... comforting our son,” I said, trembling. I could convince my husband of that. I had to. “He needed... a woman. And Leyla was busy...”

“Clearly!” Leyla said. “Since I was so unavailable for Faizel to use when I caught you. I mean, I had nothing better to do but watch you two fuck!”

I flushed and looked at my husband. I could save this. I had to. “Karim, I was just—”

“Taking care of my son?” he demanded. Then swiped the phone a few times. “And what about this?”

He practically shoved the phone into my face. The video played and...

“Oh, no,” I groaned.

It was taken only an hour ago. There I was, on my hands and knees, as Clint fucked my ass. You could hear me begging him to plow me, calling him “Master.” My husband's face turned into a raging inferno. I quivered beneath the righteousness of his anger.

And then... after Clint had cum in my bowels, I turned around and cleaned my ass off his dick.

The phone shook with fury in Karim's grip. The plastic casing groaned as his fingers clenched around it.

“You! Were! His! Slave!”

“I—”

“You let him fuck your ass! You sucked his cock clean! You never did that for me! For your husband! But you could be your student's whore? His slave!”

“It's just—”

He seized my hair. “You want to be a slave? Is that what my wife wants to be!”

“I—”

He yanked me out of the room, pulling so hard. Pain flared at the roots of my hair. I bent over, my huge tits swaying before me as I stumble dafter him. He marched forward with all the power of a boulder crashing down a hill, nothing capable of stopping him.

Tears burned in my eyes. My marriage was all over. But it wasn't fair. I was just satiating my lusts like he did with our daughter. I was having fun, like him. What was really so wrong about that? I had needs, too. I needed to be fucked. I needed to cum.

And he didn't give me what I needed. He didn't treat me like a slut.

“My husband, what are—”

“Husband!” he roared as he hauled me down the stairs, his every step booming. “Husband! After you called that boy Master you dare call me husband!” His hand twisted, twining my hair around his fist, and yanked me closer to him. I gasped, almost falling down the stairs as I hurried after him. He reached the landing, hauled me to the living room, my son, daughter, and Kimmy following. “Are you that much of a cunt to call me husband after you whored yourself out to your student!”

“You fucked Carter all night, didn't you, Mother!” Leyla hissed as she hurried down the stairs behind me. “He told Kimmy all about it when she asked him. How he paid to fuck you all night long!”

“Just a whore!” my husband growled. “A filthy prostitute. You are my wife no longer!”

My eyes squeezed shut. Tears burned my eyes. My body shook. “P-please, Karim, I should have told you. I should—”

“Do you know what happens to slaves when they betray their rightful owners?” he growled.

“Slave?” I gasped.

“You want to be that boy's slave, but not mine?” he growled. “When I married you. When I took care of you! I paid for your schooling so you could be a whore at your college! And you won't be my slave.”

Something settled into place inside of me. Something that Clint had originally awakened in me that first time I peered through the peephole and saw him with his harem of sisters and his aunt. The way he mastered them. The way he dominated them and turned them into his sluts.

Into his slaves.

My pussy grew juicy even as I trembled in fear. My husband reached his recliner. He sank down naked, his cock thrusting thick and hard from his wiry pubic hair. He was as hung as Clint and my eldest son. Jalal was only a little smaller than them. I didn't resist Karim's strength as he hauled me over his lap, my tits pressing against the armrest, my legs dangling over the other side. I felt his dick twitching against my stomach, his precum smearing on my flesh.

“You want me to be your... slave?” I asked, trembling.

“Want?” he growled. “I purchased your whore body the day I married you. I have been too lax! Too trusting! No longer!” He grabbed my ass, squeezing my butt-cheek hard. “Say it!”

I shuddered and, with no hesitation, groaned, “You own my body, Master! I'm your slave-wife!”

“And you were so naughty. You sold your body to other men!” He squeezed my ass. “You sold what belonged to ME!”

His hand rose and up and then smacked down so hard on my butt-cheek. A cracking slap, thundering like a lightning bolt, echoed through the living room. Pain roared through me. Agony exploded across my rump. I gasped out, my pussy clenching at the strength of my punishment. My ass burned. Tears stung my eyes, rained down my face. I sucked in breaths against the agony.

CRACK!

His second blow fell on my other butt-cheek. I spasmed so hard across his lap. My head lifted up. I screamed out in pain as my husband, my Master, disciplined me. He was right. I was such a whore. A slut. I let all those other men, even my sons, use what belonged to him. I swore to be his faithful wife on our marriage day.

And I couldn't be that. I had proved myself unworthy of being his wife. But I could be his slave.

“You only fuck the men I allow!”

CRACK!

“Yes, Master!” I screamed as the pain twisted through my body, swirling about my lusts, making my pussy even juicier as the hurt spread into my cunt.

CRACK!

“Say it!” he snarled, the sound of his spanking echoing through the room.

“I'll only fuck men when you allow it, my Master!” I screamed out, squirming on him, my snatch growing so hot. As the pain increased, so did my orgasm build. “I promise to Allah and his Messenger!”

CRACK!

“I'm your whore, my Master!” I moaned. “This time... This time I won't break my oath to you!”

CRACK!

“Filthy!” he snarled.

CRACK!

“Cheating!”

CRACK!

“Cunt!”

“I am, my Master!” I moaned, tears falling down my face. “I'm disgusting! You should beat me!”

There was one difference between us: I gave him permission to fuck our daughter. I never gave him the same option to bless my affairs. I just acted on my lusts. I violated our marriage to satiate my own cunt behind his back. I was such a slut. A whore. I needed to be controlled. Just like Leyla did. Or I would fuck everyone. I would just spread my thighs and let any man enter me.

I craved to be a slut. Anyone's slut.

“I am a filthy, cheating whore, my Master!” My ass burned so much. “Punish me!”

CRACK!

I welcomed the pain. Every spanking hurt. I moaned and gasped and screamed. My voice grew raw as my ass burned hotter and hotter. My pussy clenched, my snatch growing so juicy. Every time my husband proved how strong he was made me shudder.

He could master me the way Clint did his Aunt Vicky and his half-sister Lee. My husband could control my lusts, channel them. He would direct me. He would tell me which men to fuck and how. I could let him make all the decisions.

Let him decide how I would make back the money I wasted with my online gambling.

CRACK!

“I'm your slut, my Master!” I groaned, his dick throbbing so hard against my belly.

CRACK!

Such agony blazed through me. The tears poured down my face. My husband and Master reinforced his control over me with every smack of his broad hand. He proved himself strong enough to own my body. To punish me for being a whore.

CRACK!

I could feel my daughter and son watching my discipline, witnessing their father controlling my slutty body. Kimmy knelt before Jalal, her mouth wrapped about his cock, bobbing her head. Would Jalal have the strength to master Kimmy, to make her his slut and control her whorish pussy? He wouldn't abandon her.

He needed to learn from his father. See how a man treated his slut.

His eyes burned as he watched. He absorbed what his father was doing. I moaned louder, shuddering, being that object lesson for my baby boy. He wanted a woman just like his mother, and he needed to see how one acted. I shuddered, loving the pleasure rippling across his face as his hips thrust forward, fucking his cock in and out of Kimmy's mouth.

The blonde slut moaned her wanton passion as she pleased my baby boy.

Then I noticed Leyla watching, fingering her shaved cunt. She rubbed her digits up and down her juicy snatch, getting off on watching my punishment. She was right to tell her father. I needed this. Maybe... Maybe I was so reckless, fucking so many guys, so my husband would find out what I was.

I needed to learn if he were truly strong. Truly a man.

CRACK!

Or maybe I just liked being a slave, and needed to drive him to claim me. He had. He seized me, took command of my passions.

CRACK!

He tamed my slut-cunt to his will. He reigned in my whorish behavior.

CRACK!

“My Master!” I howled. “I'll be yours! I'll do whatever you want! I'll fuck you right now. I can feel how much you need to use me.”

“You want me to use your filthy, cheating cunt?” he demanded. “Why would I when I have our daughter's hot, tight snatch to please me? I might never fuck you again. I might just lock you into a cage to keep you from letting you use that filthy snatch. I'll make you watch as your daughter enjoys my cock night and day.”

My eyes widened. I wanted to rebel, to shout, but... But... He sounded so strong. I had to submit to him. Even if he never let me cum again. My passions would just build and build in me, driving me wild until I became a filthy animal masturbating in a cage, rubbing my cunt against the bars, just so desperate for satisfaction.

“Yes, my Master!” I moaned. “You have to fuck our daughter's barely legal cunt. You have to feel that tight pussy about your dick! She's better than me.” I shuddered at saying those words. Leyla was better than me. She was honest with her father about fucking other guys. She didn't try to hide it.

And neither did Kimmy. She performed during the gangbang for my son. She let him watch her be a slut because it gave him pleasure.

I deserved my punishment.

CRACK!

“Kneel before me and watch,” he growled as he shoved me off his lap.

I landed on the floor, my bruised ass flaring with pain. I grunted, drinking in the agony, savoring being discarded. I deserved this humiliation. It made my slut-cunt even wetter.

“Watch our daughter take your place. On my cock. In our bed. I'll make her my wife and you... You'll just be our slave. Our whore.”

“And what about other guys, Daddy?” Leyla asked. “I... I like being fucked by lots of men. I love you, Daddy, I do. I would truly cherish being your woman. Your wife. But... I'm like Mother, I need to be used.”

My husband grinned at her. “You're my slut, too. You fuck whom I say you can, my little flower.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Leyla quivered and then darted to him.

She nimbly leaped over me to land on his lap, straddling him. She kissed him so hard, her ass wiggling right before my face, her pussy shaved and gleaming with her juices. My pussy was just as wet. I wanted to cum so badly.

I quivered as I listened to her kiss my husband. He was her husband now, too, her Daddy-husband. It was so wrong, so taboo. I shuddered. My hands clenched my thighs to resist shoving between my thighs and rub my cunt. My ass burned. I couldn't sit down. I had to kneel and watch my Master fuck our daughter.

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