Story title: Daughter Rehabilitation
Chapter 4 — Mike POV
“Ahhh, there’s my good girl,” I cooed, motioning for Poppy to join me and her mother in the kitchen. “C’mere, angel. Did you sleep well?”
My wife gave me a look. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit much?”
“How so?”
I opened my arms, acting all casual, and Poppy knew what was expected of her—a good morning hug, followed by a chaste kiss on my cheek and then she was to stand opposite of her mother and close enough to me so I could subtly finger her wet slit during breakfast without my wife catching a whiff of indecency from me.
“Good girl this, good girl that. She’s going to be nineteen soon and you’re babying her like that. It’s ridiculous,” she barked, startling Poppy.
I nodded, pretending I actually gave a fuck about her concerns.
Our marital relationship had been soured for a long time now, but ever since I “rehabilitated” Poppy, I found I gave even less of a rat’s ass about my wife’s feelings and worries.
I didn’t need her for sex anymore and so I didn’t have to make sure I was on her good side to get some pussy now and again. I had all the pleasure I could want, whenever I wanted, and from a much better, much tighter, much more sexually submissive, cunt.
“Good morning, mom, dad,” said cunt greeted, performing her routine, before assuming her place next to me.
I peeled my eyes off her lovely figure—pastel dresses truly suited her much better than oversize sweat pants and hoodies with skulls on them.
“I understand, love, but the therapist said that Poppy had been acting out because she was craving attention. She actually wants to be a good girl for me, I mean for us, and I have to reinforce that I think she is, if I want her to keep walking on this path. You can’t grow a beautiful garden without watering the flowers.”
I then put my hand on my daughter’s back, pretending to give her a few supportive pats, before letting it fall down and then sneak back up, this time under her short dress.
Poppy wasn’t wearing any panties, respecting my wishes, and, speaking of well-watered flowers, she had also lubed herself up for me to use.
My fingers slid right inside her vagina and I eagerly began to finger her, rubbing against her sensitive spot over and over again.
My daughter, on the other hand, was trying her best to stand still and not let a single moan escape her, not even when I pulled out, pinched her clit, then shoved three fingers back into her hole, all at once.
What a good girl, indeed!
Now if only her mother could fuck off and leave me to my designs.
“Yes, daddy,” Poppy backed me up, right on cue. “I feel so good when you praise me.”
Her mother snorted derisively.
“She does feel good, trust me,” I chuckled, increasing the speed with which I was working my fingers in my daughter’s slick pussy.
“So what, you’ll tell her that forever?”
She was so focused on being mad at me, she was completely missing out on all the wet sounds our daughter’s lower body was beginning to emit.
Poppy had even begun to slightly tremble behind the breakfast bar, so close to an orgasm she was.
I wasn’t going to relent, though, and show her mercy.
No.
The little brat could cum right here with her mother within earshot, like the depraved slut she was, or somehow abstain herself, which, lets be real here, wasn’t a true option.
She was a sensitive little cum dumpster, responsive and easily turned on.
I could bet my left nut that she was going to make a mess of my hand while her mother looked at us both, unaware of anything.
“Why not?” I challenged my wife. “What’s wrong with telling our daughter that she is good and she is loved for it? That she makes me happy when she’s being like this, instead of,” I trailed off, hinting at the reckless stunts Poppy used to pull on us both, “oh, I dunno, being a dirty little thot, as her generation likes to say.”
The old hag sighed.
“Well, I suppose you’re right.”
“See?”
“Sure I do! She is a good girl, and she listens to her daddy very well,” she mimicked Poppy. “All you have to do is say something and she’ll bend over backwards to do it. I just,” she said, getting up from her seat and pacing around, “It sometimes feel like she’s been brainwashed or rather, since that’s impossible, that you two are pulling the mother of all pranks on me. I’m not an idiot, Mike! This is… I dunno, it’s off, somehow. It is!”
Debatable, as I had my theories about how much of an idiot my wife may have been, but she was one hundred percent of one thing for sure—she was clearly insanely jealous of the shocking transformation our daughter had underwent at my hands.
My old hag of a wife had tried every trick in the book and had still failed, yet somehow, within a mere month of me being all alone with Poppy, I’d gotten the girl to eat out of the palm of my hand.
Or so her mother thought.
In truth, I’d gotten our daughter to suck the cum out of my balls, and then thank me for it.
Or, more recently, as in right fucking now, I’ve gotten her to take over her public and yet not quite, masturbation, because she was quietly and subtly humping my hand, using my fingers like thin little dildos, as her mother ranted on.
“Now you don’t have to mock her therapy,” I scolded my wife.
“I wouldn’t dream of it! Clearly, that woman, Zhiva or whatever, knows what she’s doing. I googled her. She’s a pretty one, wouldn’t have thought she was also that skilled, her kind isn’t generally that well gifted. One can be pretty or smart, very rarely both!”
Bitch wasn’t anywhere near the good Doctor’s level… or even her own daughter’s. Her jealousy was coloring her in some really ugly paint now.
“You sound a little cranky this morning, love,” I cut her off before she launched herself into another of her rants and ruined the fun I was secretly having on my end of the kitchen bar table. “Say what. Let me and Poppy make breakfast and we’ll bring it to you. You can just enjoy your favorite morning TV program and not lift a finger. What do you say?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll let our Poppy be a good girl again,” she spat, unknowingly triggering the poor slut for the second time in our short conversation.
So with those pathetic last words, I let my wife settle onto the couch, thankfully in a spot I could keep an eye on from the open space kitchen we had, and I pressed my lips against Poppy’s ear.
“Ready to get properly fucked, slut?” I whispered.
That was all the filth my daughter needed to not just step over the edge she’d been balancing herself on, but somersault over it, breaking down into sobs that she needed a kitchen rag shoved into her mouth to be able to stifle.
I then followed my ruination of her with, “I suppose you don’t want me to cum in your cunt today either, right?”
She turned her head, giving me a withering glare, one nasty enough to match the kind her mother had spent half our marriage dishing out.
I pulled out the rag, baiting her to say something to piss me off, but she spared a moment to think on it, before finally mumbling, “No, daddy, please don’t fuck my cunt, use my mouth or ass instead.”
Just like I’d taught her to say.
Ever since I figured out the right dosage to give Poppy, I could enjoy both her bratty personality and her slutty body, all at the same time.
I reveled in the way her hate for me grew with every orgasm I pried from her body, every mewl, every body tremor, every time I found her dripping with an intense need to be stuffed and used.
She could try to resist the mind control, could curse me out all she wanted, but she was a slave to her own biological needs and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, not verbally at least, my daughter was a true born slut.
I could dress her up in all the pastels I wanted, make her wear lace and do her bed every morning, but that only masked the depraved sinner lurking underneath the pretty paints and colors.
Poppy was her father’s daughter in more than one way.
“Then get on your knees, angel cakes, and open your mouth for daddy,” I snickered, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing her down.
I watched as she slowly lowered herself to her knees before me, her eyes remaining cast downward in a rare display of genuine obedience.
Her hands shook slightly as she reached for my pants.
The heat of anticipation coursed through me and I gave her an encouraging pat on the head.
I loved putting my unwashed dick in her sassy mouth.
It was the ultimate act of dominance—I held all the power and received all the pleasure. All that goodness, while her slutty ass had to contend with the musky smell of my balls, the salty taste of my shaft, the knowledge that I’d peed just minutes prior and it wouldn’t be long until more unsavory liquids would come out of there and she’d have to bare me coating her taste buds with my filthy spunk.
Poppy’s fingers fumbled in search until they finally found the button and released it from its hold. With a few swift movements, she had freed my cock and came face to face with the hard desire that pulsed in readiness for all the pleasure that was to come.
“Go on,” I encouraged her. “Be daddy’s good girl and get sucking.”
Poppy opened her moist, pink lips and allowed my throbbing cock into the warmth of her mouth.
She licked and sucked it with practiced intensity, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through my body. Her soft tongue caressed every inch of my filthy cock as she devoured me, making it seem like she was actually starting to enjoy this act of servitude.
But I knew perfectly well how humiliated being made to suck dick was making her feel, and for that, I would always go the extra step and use the act to put my daughter in her place.
With her tongue coated with my cum, she found herself speaking against me and my incestuous desires a lot less often and with a lot less venom.
Manic glee at the prospect of robbing her of one more thing, combined with the needle prick of revenge poking at me, drove me to push myself further inside Poppy’s mouth, almost sliding down her throat.
But not quite.
Not just yet.
Because a sudden rush of pleasure ran through my body at the sight before me, making me take a moment to appreciate its lewdness.
Even without looking up at my face, it was clear that my little slut was both aroused and embarrassed by this act of submission—two emotions which seemed to battle for dominance on the glowing canvas of her flushed face.
“Ohhh, you like that,” I cooed, mockingly. “Let daddy give you some more, then. Take my cock, my little cum dumpster.”
With both hands on her head, keeping Poppy firmly in place, I plunged my shaft straight down her throat, pushing against the tight resistance of her vocal chords.
She winced and fought to expel me from the depths of her throat, panic taking over her.
She’d never had me that deep before and I could only imagine her thinking that I was trying to suffocate her, choke her to death perhaps, with the aid of my dick, aiming for a different sort of punishment.
Unrelenting, I pressed on and held myself down there, until any sounds she could manage were reduced to a violent choking fit.
She struggled there between my legs, her body quaking with fear and revulsion, her nails digging into the flesh of my thighs, her muscles massaging my cock in a desperate attempt at getting it out from her body.
“Breathe through your nose, stupid,” I whispered. “You’ll be fine.”
In an instant, I’d made a complete mess of my daughter.
Saliva was dripping from her chin, a shiny trail along her neck, headed towards her cleavage.
Her eyes were glassy and brimming with tears, a mix of rage and humiliation spilling down her flushed cheeks.
But the most beautiful sight to behold was her puffy cheeks, mouth stuffed with cock. She looked utterly degraded, drenched in humiliation, like a cheap whore.
She made a soundless plea for mercy, her body shaking uncontrollably and I finally relented. When I removed myself from her throat, she gasped loudly and slumped against me, tired and broken.
I smiled.
“That’s what you get for not letting daddy use your pussy, honey. I’ll ask you again: do you want me to keep using your mouth, or will that nice, tight, cunt be available now?”
Poppy shook her head, shoving at my legs with feeble strength.
“No more,” she rasped.
It had been a harsh lesson but one that needed to be taught if she was going to understand the consequences of her “free will”.
I grabbed her chin and made her look into my eyes.
“See, was that so hard, Poppy?”
She shook her head no.
“Good girl, but since I’m hard and we can’t have your mom see me like this, how about we finish what we started?”
”Dad—”
“Shhhh…”
With a steady, oppressive, force I pushed my way into her opened mouth.
She gagged and tried to plead for me to stop as I felt my length slide down the back of her throat until all that remained were my balls, hitting her chin with lewd precision.
This time, though, no matter how much she struggled to breathe and how hard she’d hit my thighs, begging for mercy, I did not relent.
I kept pushing beyond what she thought possible, jamming myself deeper and harder inside.
I skull-fucked my helpless daughter until finally there came an explosive pleasure and every last drop of cum my balls had to give spilled down her throat and filled up her stomach.
Satisfied and pleased with how I’d gotten her to beg for me to fuck her precious pussy, I wiped my cock on her hair and admired my work.
“What a good girl you are, Poppy. Dirty and slutty, but so good. Daddy really enjoyed this, angel, and I’m going to enjoy your main fuck hole even more.”
Poppy silently raised her head to look at me.
A string of cum was stuck to one side of her frazzled hair. Her eyes, glassy and vacant, told me there would be no more resistance from her for a good while.
I’d broken her so superbly.