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Daddy's Little Psychopath

By: LordOfHell



*Author's Note: I like to experiment with different types of stories, so this one will be much different from the others on my site, which mostly deal with "true love" as well as incest. This is story is part incest, part psycho-thriller and part cheating spouse. If neither of these are your cup of tea, please leave now. Otherwise, sit back, relax and enjoy.

Addendum to editors: No sexual activity occurs with any character that is under eighteen. All characters who engage in erotic behavior are legal adults.

-Version edit: 1.1-

******

The day that my daughter was born was the happiest day of my life. My wife Eileen and I had been hoping for a child for years, and the day she announced that she was pregnant, I ran through our entire neighborhood screaming "I'm gonna be a Daddy!" at the top of my lungs. That little escapade embarrassed the hell out of Eileen, but I came home and immediately fucked her brains out, so she forgave me pretty quickly.

We settled rapidly into the groove of impending parenthood, becoming more excited as we watched her belly grow day-by-day. Of course, Eileen went through the typical mood swings and physical changes that came along with child-bearing, but I was patient, loving and understanding. My baby was giving me a baby . . . and there was nothing that could break my jubilance about that!

My daughter was born on July 9th, during the biggest heat wave of the year. Our apartment didn't have working air-conditioning, and I complained to the super about it constantly, worried about my wife and unborn daughter's health—even doubly so after she went into labor. For the next eleven hours, I was beside myself, worrying if suffering through the heat had induced my wife's labor and whether or not that would affect her health or the baby's. The hospital staff did their best to calm me down, and I knew they were doing all they could, but I'm a very excitable person—especially when it comes to my family.

Fortunately, after hours and hours of pure torture, my wife finally gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. We had already picked out a name for her: Rhonda, and we took turns holding her the entire night.

We were able to afford a bigger home, and things were going remarkably well at first. Rhonda was a relatively normal baby and infant, although our first sign that she was more than she appeared was when she began crawling in four months. Eileen and I were amazed, and even more so when Rhonda was outright able to RUN at six months. Not walk. Run. Eileen and I were excited that we had given birth to a real prodigy—a wonder child that would surpass all of our greatest hopes and dreams.

If only we knew.

Rhonda soaked up knowledge like a sponge. Eileen and I tried homeschooling until she was six, but she quickly outpaced our combined education. She was doing trigonometry by that age, and the most math I could remember was algebra. I was exceptionally good at English and Literature though, so I would continue to read with my daughter, and we used to talk afterwards and compare literary critiques. Rhonda's acumen was amazing, and she was able to pick up on greater subtext and abstruse themes than I could ever dream of doing. Eventually, rather than teaching her, she was beginning to teach ME, and I was captivated at learning what insight my little girl had to share.

However, things weren't all good. A few years after her birth, Eileen began to distance herself a bit from Rhonda, and she used to stand by and just watch our little girl play on her own or with other children, such as when her cousin Teddy came to play. Teddy was three years older than Rhonda and had a reputation for being something of a bully. I didn't like the kid, but he was my brother's brat, and Eileen was close to her big brother, so I really couldn't object. Besides, they were just kids: it's not like they could really get into trouble.

Like I said, though, Eileen began to distance herself from our daughter and secretly observed her whenever Rhonda didn't know she was around. At first, I thought it was some bizarre motherly instinct, but eventually, I began to suspect different. It seemed like Eileen sensed that there was something wrong with our daughter, and she wanted to keep her distance. Every once in a while, I tried talking her out of her behavior, and she would make an earnest effort to get closer to Rhonda, but it would always fail a few weeks, days, or even hours later.

Don't get me wrong—Eileen was a wonderful wife and mother in every other respect, but her detachment to Rhonda just didn't feel healthy. Rhonda seemed pretty happy, though, so I decided not to press the issue. I just doubled my efforts and decided to spoil my little girl rotten. I relished the time Rhonda and I spent together reading, watching movies, and discussing them afterwards. And I mean real, in-depth adult conversations. Sometimes, it felt a little weird that my young daughter seemed to be talking down to me, having to reword some things so that I could understand it, but I was immensely proud of her, so it didn't matter.

******

Things were pretty good for awhile. I bought Rhonda all the books she wanted, and she finished all of them immediately. She would always come to me immediately after, saying that they had left her with even more questions. I sat down and read them with her, and found myself suddenly unable to really keep up with my little girl's conversations anymore. But since she loved to talk to me, that didn't matter.

But Eileen was less than thrilled.

"I think this is getting worse, David," she told me as she paced back and forth, biting her nails. "This . . . this isn't normal for a child to be acting like. She's not supposed to be reading those types of books like what you bought her."

Again, I found myself trying to be the voice of reason. "Well, Rhonda ISN'T normal," I corrected her, "she's an unbelievably gifted child, and I think the longer we try and hold her back, the more confused and miserable we're going to make her."

"Then what do we do, David? I can't keep up with her anymore, and even you're starting to struggle. I think it's time we considered other options. Maybe we should start seriously discussing hiring a tutor for Rhonda . . ."

I gave in and we stretched our financial resources to look into getting Rhonda some mentorship. Eventually, we found a professor from a local college who was used to dealing with exceptionally gifted children. With his help, Rhonda gained her high school diploma at seven and completed a full college curriculum by the time she was nine. My pride in her only grew as I watched my little prodigy develop, and Rhonda beamed at me whenever she saw the love in my eyes. During this time, however, I got laid off from my job and our family began hitting horrible financial straits. The only thing that kept us going was all of the money we got from schools looking to develop our daughter's 'gifts', but I felt really guilty exploiting my only child for my own gain.

One day, when Rhonda was eleven, Teddy was sleeping over at our home again. Eileen and I left he and Rhonda to play together while we sat down and discussed our current economic crisis. Eventually, we heard a scream in the living room and came to check. When we got there, Teddy was laying in the living room, trembling and holding his stomach while Rhonda was calmly sitting a chair, playing with her Game Boy. There was a lot of blood on the carpet underneath Teddy, and his shorts were pulled around his ankles. Eileen ran to call 911 while I went to Rhonda and asked what happened.

"Teddy and I were playing," she told me very calmly.

"Playing!? Ronnie, what the hell kind of playing ends with a boy's stomach bleeding?"

"Teddy said he wanted to 'play doctor'. At first I didn't want to, but he kept pushing, so I just tried to do a little surgery. But all of a sudden, he started crying that it hurt, and he didn't want to play anymore. I don't think he meant the same thing I thought he did, Daddy."

I couldn't believe that Rhonda was reacting with such cold indifference. She had nearly cut her cousin's belly open, and didn't seem to give two shits about it. It was at that moment that I finally began to think that Eileen was right about Rhonda and that there really was something wrong with her. But I felt conflicted—just what had Teddy, that little punk, been trying to do? Upset, I left the room and sat with Eileen as we waited for the paramedics.

Eileen rode with them after they arrived and told her brother she'd meet him in the Emergency Room. In the meantime, I stayed home with Rhonda and wondered just what the hell I was going to do about this mess.

"What's wrong, Daddy? Did I do something I shouldn't have?" she asked me with a very worried tone.

How the hell was I supposed to answer that? Frankly, I felt that the little punk got just a bit of pathos for whatever he had tried to do with his cousin. Of course, she always could have just yelled for Eileen and I, but would we even have believed her? If she'd screamed, it would have been her word against Teddy's, and Eileen had a habit giving that little snot too much due because he was her brother's kid.

What bothered me most, however, was the twinkle in Rhonda's eye. She didn't even seem to care that she had just effectively MAIMED a young boy.

Rhonda could see my apprehension, and she stepped closer . . . tears beginning to well in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Daddy?"

"We'll talk later, Ronnie," I told her. "Daddy needs to think right now."

"Why don't we think together, Daddy?" she asked me. "All my fancy certificates say I'm good at it."

"No, not this time, Ronnie," I argued. "Just go to bed and sleep."

Her eyes narrowed, and she stared right at me and declared: "No."

I shot disbelief right back at her. "What did you say?"

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong," she told me. "It's not fair!"

"I decide what's 'fair', young lady," I hollered. This was the first time I'd ever gotten ANGRY at my daughter, and I was a bit too miffed and excited to be patient with her. "I told you to go to bed and you will do what I say!"

She smiled at me. "Make me."

That set me off. I rushed at her and picked her up into my arms, kicking and screaming. I carried her into her room and threw her onto her bed even as she hammered on my back, hollering bloody murder. When I turned to leave, she grabbed onto my shirt tail and refused to let go. When I pulled her off, she would just pounce right back and grab it again.

This was far too exhausting for me, and I was far too old to be struggling with an eleven-year-old. I unbuckled my belt and looped it. Then, grabbing her hand tight, I spanked her with my belt until she began whimpering. She was fully-clothed, so I knew it wasn't really hurting her, but I had never spanked her before in my life, and I could tell she was really upset about it. Eventually, she finally let go of me and sank back on the floor, gasping for breath and softly whining.

"Now stay in here and don't cause any more trouble!" I yelled. I slammed her door behind me and left.

******

Eileen didn't get home until late, and she returned with my brother Steven. The three of us sat in the living room—after I'd vigorously cleaned the blood from the carpet of course—and decided to talk things out.

"And that's what Rhonda says happened," I told them, finishing up my story.

"Really," Steven said, holding his chin in contemplation as his right leg lay folded over his left. "That's certainly different from what Teddy told me in the hospital. He said that Rhonda wouldn't leave him alone and that she stabbed him for no reason."

"Come on, Steve. Teddy would say that he wasn't doing anything wrong."

"Well, she's always been an 'odd' kid, from what my sister tells me," Steve retorted. "From what I hear, she's been doing all sorts of odd things, hasn't she? Like slicing the limbs off her dolls?"

I shot a glare at Eileen. I hadn't told ANYONE else about that little incident, not even my own family. But, of course, Eileen had run off and told her big brother just like she did with every other little hiccup in our marriage.

"Don't give me that look," she told me. "I tried talking to you about it, but you always dismissed me like I was the one that was crazy."

Steve nodded. "And now, my son's paid the price because you wouldn't listen."

"Wait just a damn second," I said, suddenly feeling very protective of my daughter. "YOUR boy started this!"

"David!" my wife yelled, but I wasn't listening. Neither was Steven, whom my words had clearly upset.

"Who are we supposed to believe!? My boy, who hasn't gotten in trouble a day in his life, or your little hellspawn in the making?!"

I jumped out of my seat. "'Hasn't gotten trouble' my ass! Your boy's ALWAYS been a bully! Everybody in town knows that!"

"Rumors," Steven dismissed, rising from his chair as well. "Teddy gets picked on just like every other kid in school. I taught him to fight back if anyone ever gave him issues."

"How many 'issues' is your boy gonna get in with kids smaller than he is?" I snapped. "You want to talk about 'not listening to warnings', how much is it gonna take for you to realize that you got a little Cobra-fucking-Kai living with you?!"

"STOP IT!!"

Eileen stepped between us and tried to push us apart, but it was almost impossible for her to move two men whose combined weight was almost three times her own. However, with her there, neither of us were inclined to take our argument to the next level, because I sure as hell didn't want to hit my wife, and Steve didn't want to hurt his sister.

"Please, both of you sit down, and let's talk like we're supposed to be the adults."

Steve and I took our seats again, but we were shooting daggers from across the room.

Eileen then turned and looked at me. "David, maybe it's time that we got Rhonda . . . you know . . . some help . . .?"

My anger immediately shifted toward her. "What?! Are you SERIOUSLY going to blame our daughter for this!? You're going to take HIS side!?"

She took a deep breath. "Please calm down. I've been telling you for years that there's something wrong with—"

"Fuck calming down!" I yelled. I was becoming so upset that my wife was taking her brother's side that I had totally forgotten about my 'episode' with Rhonda earlier. Now, instead of really thinking that there might have been some issues with my daughter, I was determined to protect her honor from the asshole brother who thought his own 'perfect' brat could do no wrong.

"If you're going to take his side, then what the fuck am I doing talking to you!?" I stormed out of the living room and headed toward Rhonda's room.

"David, where are you going?"

I turned to answer her. Through the corner of my eye, I subconsciously thought I saw my daughter's door close just as I turned the corner, but my mind quickly dismissed it. "Rhonda and I will stay someplace else tonight!" I yelled, pushing my daughter's room open. "You two can discuss how you want to blame her all you want while we're gone. But for now, she's going with me."

"You can't . . . you can't just take my daughter out of here!"

"The hell I can't!" I replied. I turned to Rhonda and said, "Come on baby, get your coat and your games and stuff. You and Daddy are going someplace alone tonight."

She didn't question me and immediately raced to get her things. I led her out of the house, with Eileen protesting the whole time.

******

I took Rhonda to an inn for the night. After I got there, I started to feel a little guilty about what I'd done, so I called Eileen and told her where we were. Afterwards, I settled in to try and get some sleep while Rhonda laid on the other bed, reading a new book that I hadn't seen before.

"Hey, princess," I said softly. "What're you reading now?"

"Jungian psychology and how it applies to social dynamics in the 21st Century," she replied.

I winced, sorry I asked. "Yeah, have fun with that, sweetie."

She put the book down for a moment and asked, "Am I really in trouble?"

"I don't think so, baby," I answered, although it was mostly a lie. "Teddy was wrong, and he sorta deserved what he got."

I regretted those words almost immediately. I shouldn't have said that. But, I was still pretty angry.

She smiled at me. "So you believe me, Daddy?"

"Of course I do, sweetheart," I said with a returning smirk. "You're my little angel and I won't let anybody hurt you."

She got up from her bed and walked to mine, crawling next to me and leaning her head on my arm. "I love you, Daddy," she said.

As I stroked her head, I told her, "I love you too, darling. With all my heart."

******

At some point, we must have fallen asleep watching television, because the next thing I remember was a knock at the door startling me. The knock was loud and forceful, and I wondered just who the hell it could possibly be.

"Hang on a minute!" I yelled as the loud knocking persisted. I figured it was probably Eileen, or most likely Steven, considering how heavy the knocking was.

However, when the door swung open, I found two uniformed cops staring me down.

"David Scott?" one of them asked.

"Y-Yes?"

"Your wife called us and complained that you'd kidnapped your daughter. We've come to take her home and place you in temporary custody."

All at once, my built-up rage returned.

"My daughter is legally under my custody," I protested. "And I didn't kidnap her. I took her out of the house because my wife, her brother and I were having an argument and I didn't want anyone to get hurt if emotions ran high."

The officers simply stared at me with the same expression. One of them took a step inside the room. "Just come with us, sir. We'll return the child to her mother for now, and we'll take you to the precinct tonight until things cool off and this all gets sorted out."

"This is ridiculous!" I protested, disobeying the cop's order to turn around. "I look out for my daughter's best interests and I come out looking like the bad guy!? I told you, she's under my custody! You can't just walk in here and take her from me!"

The cops ignored my protests and one of them went over to grab my daughter. She began to yell for me.

"Noooo! I want to stay with Daddy! Stop it! Daddyyyyy!"

My daughter's screams only agitated me further. "Dammit, let her go! Why won't you go and check to make sure I'm her legal guardian!? Just, take your hands off her and go straighten this out now."

I tried to push past one of the officers, but he grabbed my arm, trying to force it behind my back. Running on paternal instinct and high on adrenaline, I took a swing at him. My fist connected to his jaw, and my left reeled back for a second strike. The next thing I knew, my second shot missed and I was face-first on the floor, with my stomach on fire and the officer's knees in my back.

"Mr. Scott, you're under arrest for assaulting an officer," he said. "Please do not resist any further or you will risk bringing further charges against yourself. Do you understand?"

I only growled in response.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes, goddammit! Ow, you're hurting me! Ease up a little!"

As the officer's partner took my daughter away, screaming for her father to help her, I was led from our room in cuffs and stuffed into a squad car. Eventually, Eileen and Steven showed up to claim our daughter, but neither of them said a word to me. I just burned holes in them with my eyes from the back seat of the patrol car until the cops returned to cart me off to jail.

******

Eileen dropped the kidnapping charge, but I got sentenced to three years for the assault, although I only did nine months. Eileen and I worked through our differences, and she stuck by me faithfully while I did my time. In the meantime, she took Rhonda for psychiatric evaluation, although they were unable to find sufficient cause to declare our daughter as anything other than a troubled youth with a few sociological problems. They mostly blamed the problems on her relationship with Eileen—they said that Eileen's distrust and borderline dislike of her own daughter was, in turn, causing Rhonda to "act out" in socially awkward behavior. Eileen made an effort to correct the mistake and she told me that her relationship with Rhonda really improved over those months.


Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 02



Author's Note: I sincerely recommend that you read "Daddy's Little Psychopath" before reading this. Reading any further than this will spoil that story's twists. 

The tags you can expect to find in this story are father/daughter incest, rough sex, non-consent, cheating, reluctance, cuckquean, and blackmail. Also, the story is split in the dual perspectives of both spouses. Now, if you don't like the basis for this story because of something I just mentioned, don't read this. I don't really mind criticism, but I say this just to save YOU time.

For those of you still here, enjoy and please leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers, even if it's negative. Thank you and enjoy.

Addendum to Editors: This story does not contain any scenes of explicit sex with characters under the legal age of consent.

******

-DAVID-

"I want you to talk Mom into a threesome," Rhonda told me one evening as she lay atop me, breathing softly into my ear, our sweaty bodies writhing together as my cock slowly and delicately sawed in and out of her extremely wet cunt.  As she fed her rubbery nipple to my mouth, allowing my juicy, salivating lips to enclose upon my own little girl's hard areola, the surprise in my eyes made her smile. "Oh no, not with me, Daddy. Haha. Do you really think I'd let that diseased harlot touch me? Noooo . . . I want you and The Bitch to have a threesome with a nice friend of mine. You'll like her, I think."

Ronnie drew my lips to hers and kissed me deeply, our tongues wrestling feverishly as she sat in my lap, he hips rising and falling with a rhythm like slow machinework. Her saliva tasted like mint, and after all this time, she still wore that same exquisite perfume that drove me crazy with lust. My hands explored my little girl's slick, naked form as we slowly ground our sex together. I could hear every sound our sloppy, slippery loins made as easily as I could hear the heavy breathing between both of us. By this point, any apprehension I'd felt about this affair, about fucking my own offspring—flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood—had been erased completely. Just as I had when she was a child, I now worshipped my daughter—only this time, it was because of her luscious body moreso than her unparalleled genius.

"Don't forget to cum inside me, Daddy," Rhonda told me as I licked eagerly on her buoyant breast. "You've been slacking off in that department lately, and I would really hate to punish you. Need I remind you that this is baby-making season?"

She knew what that would do to me. I grunted, gripped her tightly in my arms until our bodies were mashed firmly together, crushing her pillowy tits onto my chest. Then, I turned and slammed her onto her bed. I just threw her down like she was a rag, and she moaned excitedly. Her eyes were glazed with pure lust as I pounced and forced her thighs apart. She yelped in feigned helplessness as I grasped her heels and pushed them as far back as I could, nearly parallel to her shoulders.

I leaned my full weight into her, bending her legs so far back that her knees touched the mattress with every downstroke. I plunged my cock into her without gentleness or compassion. I just started to fuck her mercilessly, pounding my shaft deep into her while she hung onto my neck, screaming and moaning as I took her forcefully, punishing her tight little cunt.

It was her own damn fault with that last line she spoke. If there was anything that I loved more than fucking a pussy, it was cumming inside of one. Seeding one. And Rhonda's threats of 'punishment' as she called it, only enticed me further. After years of this, I had begun to feel a perverse pleasure in my daughter's control. For years, Rhonda had coerced me into sex by threatening me and my family with bodily harm and blackmail—and I loved it. It made it 'okay' for me to feel release. I wasn't just fucking my daughter, I was 'saving' my wife's life. I wasn't just filling my little girl with spunk, I was 'protecting' my family. I wasn't just making a hot little bitch pregnant, I was making a 'sacrifice' for everything I loved.

And gradually, methodically, Ronnie had broken me. My little girl had turned me into her willing pet, ready to do her bidding at her command.

She had already carried two of my children to term. Only weeks earlier, Ronnie had given birth to our second child, so now I knew it was time to get to work on our third one. Even though I knew it was twisted, I couldn't help feeling excitement at that. Months before, my wife Eileen also gave birth to a couple of twins, but because their gestation and labor had taken a huge toll on her, the doctors didn't recommend that she get pregnant again. Eileen went on birth control until she'd eventually get her tubes tied. When Rhonda heard, she was jubilant beyond belief.

"No more substandard brats from The Bitch, then," she had told me with a massive smile on her face. "I want you to support her on this, Daddy. I never thought I'd say this, but it's probably the smartest decision she's ever made in her pathetic life."

I really hated when Ronnie talked about her mother like that, but I couldn't talk back to her—not during 'silent time'. It was then that I was only allowed to nod and listen or else Rhonda would punish me. Rhonda usually invoked silent time when she needed to demand sex from me without my consent (which, believe me, was occurring less and less) or when she had something to say, but silent time didn't always involve sex.

Sometimes, Rhonda just wanted to spend time with me. She loved to talk to me about what new discoveries, interests, and happenings were developing in her world as a budding microbiologist. In a twisted sense, it was just like how things had been when she was a child, when she used to teach me things that her vastly superior intellect had discovered. Rhonda had been born a genius—her IQ tested at over 140 when she was very young, but I honestly believe that she was still holding back. Ronnie was so smart, she had never really been my "child" in a sense—I was only able to mentor her until she was about four and from that point on, her intellect vastly eclipsed mine. Still, I took it upon myself to study with her anyway, because I loved the feeling of pride I got at having such a brilliant baby girl.

Although Rhonda was a little emotionally distant to most people, she always beamed at me and eagerly enjoyed spending her time with me. In those days, I thought it was just because she wanted to make her Daddy happy, but after we began fucking, I started to wonder if that had ever been the real reason. In any case, let me restate that Rhonda didn't always just use her control to enforce sex from me. She also wanted my love and my approval; to have someone to share her gifts with. Just like the old days, I didn't understand ninety-percent of what she talked about, but she simply adored my efforts to try.

But the difference between then and now was that she wasn't just little "Rhonda Scott" anymore. To the world outside of our home, she was Doctor Rhonda Scott, brilliant virologist.

Aside from her genius, Ronnie was fit, gorgeous, charismatic and very successful. Every one of her scientific peers loved her, and men just couldn't stay away from her. Ronnie always put on airs that she was a slut, and she loved teasing and flirting with men of all ages and personalities. But, Ronnie wasn't actually interested in any of them. It was all part of her cover, you see, to explain why she kept finding herself knocked up with no fathers for her babies. Sometimes, she even hired men to date and claim to have fucked her, without anyone having a clue that they were just escorts.

No matter how many men—successful entrepreneurs, lawyers, scientists, and doctors—propositioned her, Ronnie would come home and slide herself down on my cock and tell me I was the only man in the world that she loved. As sick as it might sound, that never failed to make me cum hard. What man wouldn't want to see a sexy woman with those kinds of credentials snub every other guy that headed her way and then crawl into bed with him?

And Ronnie was still my little girl. I hated seeing the way those lechers pawed at her, treating her like some cheap bimbo. She always purred her satisfaction when she noticed my possessiveness and savored the fact that I had totally surrendered to the taboo of an illicit affair with my eldest child. She constantly reminded me how much of a dirty pervert I was for letting her make my cock hard and she called me an 'incestuous bastard' just before I loosed my streams of cum into her womb.

To her credit, Ronnie was also a fantastic mother. She adored our children—which I was forced to pretend were my grandchildren (which they were, now that I think of it)—and thought that they were the greatest things she'd ever made. That was saying something, considering how much she'd accomplished in the scientific community. I, of course, loved our children, but equally to the other three that I legitimately had with my wife, Eileen. All of them meant the world to me, regardless who their mother was. But Rhonda hated her siblings. She pretended to be a good big sister to them, but in reality, she hated them every bit as much as she hated her mother, regardless of how much I begged otherwise.

"I just can't, Daddy. I just can't see any of your magnificence in them. The Bitch's putrid womb destroyed any trace of that, and now they're nothing more than horrid abominations. Not like our babies, Daddy. The ones I make for you will be pure and untainted."

It was no use. No matter how much I pleaded, Rhonda would never forgive Eileen for the mistake she'd made which had once nearly destroyed our family. Ronnie made an effort to act as a loving daughter, but only to avoid suspicion. And only to make me happy. In private, every word she spoke about her mother was slathered in malice and acrimony.

"I know that I'm bad, Daddy, and that part of you really hates me, even if you really like everything else we do." As she tended to do during times like this, she just stood up and pulled her skirt down to her ankles, lifting her blouse and bending over in front of a wall. She looked so obscene: here was my beautiful daughter, the prodigious Dr. Rhonda Scott, pointing her round ass toward her father's bulging crotch.

"I'm so mean to you, Daddy. I hurt you and hurt you, and I can't stop. But, it's not my fault. I came from inside her, so I'm ruined, Daddy. I need you to punish me." That's what always she claimed, but most pretense of this being 'punishment' usually faded quickly. "Tell me what a bad girl I am. Tell me much you hate me. Come on, Daddy. Let it all out. Hurt me. I promise you'll feel better!"

I took my belt off and spent the next twenty minutes turning her ass cheeks rosy. Rhonda whimpered, cried and moaned, and eventually I was just too hard to continue. I dropped my own pants and fucked her against the wall until I came in her pussy, and she turned her head, gazing into my eyes with pure amorous hunger. Her hot breath tickled my lips as I pressed deep, and she kissed me deeply in appreciation. She ground her ass against me to coax out every drop of my seed that she could.

She was right. I did feel better.

Since the Scott family had recently expanded from three to eight in the past few years, Rhonda voluntarily bought a new place for our entire family to live in, nice and secluded from the rest of society. Though it forced me to change jobs and forced Eileen to move to a different branch of the public library, the new house made it much easier for all of us to find living space.

And much easier for Rhonda and I to fuck each other like crazy.

For the most part, I was fucking her in the "hot rooms"—the place where no one in the family was allowed to go without Rhonda's permission. This was where she kept all of her notes, books, and materials needed for working at home. It was essentially a wing of the house which served as a combination of a workshop, rec room, lab, and extra bedroom. Ronnie had seen to it that it was equipped with extra living quarters, just in case she needed to pull some all-nighters with in her important, ground-breaking research.

"YES, FUCK ME, DADDY! POUND ME HARDER!! DESTROY MY TIGHT, WET PUSSY!! FLOOD ME WITH YOUR SPUNK AND IMPREGNATE ME!!"

. . . Or if she needed her Daddy to fuck her stupid.

And so, there we were again, with my daughter making as much noise as she dared as we fucked in the confines of the soundproof rooms Dr. Rhonda Scott had bought and paid for. I leaned into her hard and growled like a demon possessed as I put forth extra effort to get every last pint of jizz into her waiting womb. Rhonda screamed in ecstasy and cried "Oh Yes! Oh Yes!" as she felt my hot juices washing her insides. Not for the first time, I gave in to the pure bliss of knowing that it was my daughter's cunt I was trying to impregnate. I knew it was nasty, but I didn't care. I knew it was wrong, but I still loved it.

And God help me, I didn't want to stop.

******

-EILEEN-

My husband is cheating on me, and I can't prove it. But I know it's true.

My name is Eileen Scott and I'm writing this just so that I don't go utterly mad. I don't intend for anybody to really read this, and I'm not really much of a writer, so I really hope you aren't expecting too much out of this. Oh geez, I just used the word 'really' three times in one sentence didn't I? Anyway, yeah . . . there's a clear example of my profound writing ability. David is the English major in our family, not me, so forgive my limited vocabulary. But I just have to get this out of me.

It's been driving me crazy every single day, and I'm afraid that I'm going to lose my husband. I've been married to him for almost 24 years now. We have four wonderful children, and two beautiful grandchildren. Our oldest girl, Rhonda, is a doctor now, and our family's finally climbed out of the money problems we'd been drowning in for a long, long time. I work at the public library and David works in sales. Neither of us really make a whole lot of money and, hell, we've never even had savings or a 'rainy day' fund. For most our lives, we could be safely classified as "poor white trash".

But things are exceptionally good for us now. We've gone from upper-lower to upper-middle class, our financial future is secure, our brilliant daughter is one of the most renowned researchers in medical science, and my husband fucks me almost every night until I'm well satisfied.

So why do I feel that something is terribly, terribly wrong?

And worse, I'm worried that it's all my fault. I fear that I once made a horrible mistake that drove a rift into my family, and though I've tried for years to make up for it and mend that rift, I don't think I'll ever truly succeed.

I met my husband David when we were both teenagers, and I immediately knew I was going to marry him. The two of us both wanted the same things—a house, kids and old age together, and we dedicated everything in our lives to making that dream happen. We both agreed not to let our egos, hangups, or our careers get in the way of that goal. Our first and only priority was living in matrimonial harmony, and we made a lot of sacrifices. For example, David lost his job at a multinational corporation because they wanted to move us, and I couldn't go.

Both of suffered a lot to be together, but what we wanted more than anything was to love each other until we were both gray and wrinkled. That dream made both of us happy.

I became pregnant with our first child a few years after our wedding, and it was great to see how pleased David was as my belly grew. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world watching him fawn over me while I was carrying our firstborn. As my body started going through changes and my hormones grew unbalanced, I became quite a bitch, but David took every bit of it in stride. He loved me unconditionally, and he was there when I finally gave birth to our daughter Rhonda. The night he and I held her for the first time is still one of my favorite memories.

Rhonda was a bright child. No . . . 'bright' isn't doing it justice. Rhonda was a genius. And that's not an exaggeration. Her IQ was off the charts, and when most children were only learning how to spell 'd-u-c-k', Rhonda was able to recite the entire US Constitution off the top of her head. I'll be honest: it freaked me out, seeing how quickly she could grasp even the most complicated subject, and it wasn't long before her intelligence started to eclipse both my husband and myself. Ironically, despite me working in a library, David was the one with the penchant for literature, so he and Rhonda used to read together and discuss. But soon it became clear that David was only going through the motions and that Rhonda's intellect had grown far beyond his as well.

I convinced David to find some mentorship for Rhonda, despite the fact that we could barely afford it. A professor from some university used to come by four days of the week and tutor Rhonda and she earned a full college degree by the time she was eleven. David was immensely proud and would brag to everyone about our little 'prodigy'. He spoiled that girl rotten and treated her as if she was queen of the universe.

Me on the other hand? Something about Rhonda just didn't sit right.

The first time I thought something was wrong happened when she was four. During that summer, we had a problem with birds slamming into the plexiglass door leading from the kitchen to the back yard, and the constant banging was driving me nuts. Occasionally, it would even be the same damn bird slamming into it over and over. You'd think that after the first time, it'd learn its lesson, but nooooo.

One day, I happened to come across Rhonda, who heard the thump and went to go investigate. There, she found an injured bird out back that was obviously stunned after hitting its head on the plexi. Rhonda went outside and scooped the bird in her arms, cradling it gently, with motherly care. I knew that bird was probably filthy, but I decided to watch my little girl to see what she would do. Watching her care for such a timid little creature tickled my heart.

But to my immediate shock and horror, Ronnie went to the kitchen drawer and removed a pair of hefty scissors and then got ready to cut one of the wings off the bird. I immediately ran into the room and grabbed her wrist, putting the scissors back in the drawer and tossing the bird out of the back door. Rhonda just looked at me, confused and upset.

"What are you doing, Mommy!?" she asked me in a very monotone voice. The way she asked me it was like she wasn't confused but just . . . angry.

"That's my line!" I snapped at her. "Why were you going to hurt that bird!?"

She looked at me like I was an idiot. "I wasn't going to hurt it. I was helping it." With my mouth hung in utter astonishment, she continued.

"You and Daddy were complaining that the birds don't learn their lesson when they fly into the glass, right? Well, if they can't fly anymore, then they don't have to learn! Problem solved!"

I was completely befuddled. Was this normal logic for a four-year-old?!

I decided to explain the problem with her theory, as rationally as I could. "But hurting things doesn't really solve their problems, darling. Making mistakes and not learning from them is bad, but if you hurt someone just to teach them a lesson then you're not improving anything."

Rhonda stared at me with a blank face. Then, a few seconds later, she said, "That's stupid."




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 02



My jaw dropped. "W-What?!"

"Don't you read Thomas Hobbes, Mommy? 'During the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that conditions called war; and such a war, as if of every man, against every man.'"

Rhonda seemed to wait for me to get it, but when I just looked at her blankly, I could see her frustration brewing. Finally, she broke it down for me:

"Those that are greater need to keep the lesser in check for their own good. Otherwise, everyone just hurts themselves and no one really gains anything."

She looked away and muttered under her breath, "Daddy would have understood that . . ."

How is a mother supposed to deal with that?! Do you have any idea how it felt to be lectured by my four-year-old daughter on some sort of twisted philosophy that was way beyond my 14th-grade education? The look in Rhonda's eye that day horrified me: it was like she looked down on me, thought lesser of me for not understanding something that was probably very simple to her.

I knew then that I couldn't do this alone. I needed David's help.

But David wouldn't listen to me. He was completely fixated on his little genius daughter, and every spare moment of his time was spent reading with Ronnie, discussing topics from history to literary analyses to meaningless videogame trivia. David simply worshipped our daughter, and in response, Rhonda always clung to him. No matter what I tried to say, David refused to dare imply that our daughter was less than perfect.

I knew it was all up to me. If he was determined to be our child's best friend, then at least one of us needed to be a parent.

I did my best to keep an eye on her, to find something that I could present to David to prove my point. I told David about the bird incident, but Rhonda never did anything like that again. Thus, David was convinced that it had been an innocent mistake, but I wasn't so sure. One day, when Rhonda was nine, I found her dolls in the trash with all of their clothes removed, and every limb cut off at the joints. When I asked her why she'd destroy and trash all of her toys, she said to me:

"They were all wrong."

I when I pressed further, she again gave me that same look. She then showed me an anatomy book which David had bought her and pointed to the picture of a nude man and a woman, which of course looked nothing like the stripped dolls. "See?" she repeated as if she were talking to an imbecile. "All wrong. There's nothing to learn from them."

Afterwards, I told David that I thought we needed to hire a tutor for her so that at least she'd have some guidance. In the meantime, however, I was getting a bit frustrated at David's constant refusal to see my concern, so I called my brother Steven and let him know what was going on.

"A tutor?! Please. That's a waste of money if you ask me. That girl just needs more contact with kids her own age," Steven told me. "I know you guys are all excited because your little angel seems like the next Hawking, but mark my words: if you don't keep her in contact with her peers, she'll start thinking she's better than the rest of them!"

What Steven said to me made sense, so we arranged for his son, Teddy, to come over a bit more often to play with Ronnie. I observed them whenever I could, but neither David nor I could watch them 24/7. One day, Ronnie hurt Teddy—nearly cut his belly wide open—and we had to rush him to the ER. Steven met me at the hospital, and we talked about what had gone wrong. Teddy told us that Rhonda had come at him with a crafting blade, forced his pants around his ankles and cut him just to humiliate him. I burst into tears listening to his story, and Steven gently pressed me to get Rhonda into therapy before she became a real danger.

When I got home, David had a completely different story he'd gotten from Rhonda. She had claimed that Teddy had tried to convince her to 'play doctor'. Rhonda was brilliant, but she wasn't very socially conscious, so she had no idea what that meant. She cut Teddy's stomach because she thought it was how things worked, and it never crossed her mind that she would really hurt him.

Honestly, both versions of the story scared the bejeezus out of me.

David and Steven both believed their own child's version, and I tried to remain neutral. However, after I mentioned therapy to David, he blew up at me, claiming I was taking Teddy's side and blaming Rhonda. He stormed away with Rhonda in the middle of the night, not telling me where they were going. I was scared and angry at him, and I didn't know what to do. Obviously still a bit bitter, Steven suggested that I call the police and tell them that my daughter's father had run off with her. I was so distraught that I listened to him.

That turned out to be the worst mistake of my life.

Eventually, David called me and said they were at a motel, so the police went over there to talk to him. Things went a bit overboard and David, still high on emotion, struck one of them.

I lost my husband for nine months due to that incident.

While David served time, I finally got some therapy for Ronnie and they assessed that she was a normal girl, but had grown 'emotionally distant' because of the borderline contempt I constantly showed for her. At first, that suggestion made me angry, but they pointed out how I always spied on her, my refusal to try and see anything from her point of view, and my reluctance to try and bond with Ronnie in any meaningful way. Ronnie was not a normal child, isolated by her own intellect, and I made things worse by acting as though she were a freak. I almost broke into tears at the revelation: I had been treating my own little girl like an outcast!

To make things worse, Teddy's story about that night quickly started changing. While at first he'd said that Ronnie had come at him for no reason, when questioned why he didn't just cry for help, he said that they had been making out and he didn't know anything was wrong. Eventually, the little liar just came clean about it and confessed that he had tried to force his own cousin into a make-out session. Steven refused to believe it.

"Y-Your little hellion's just got my boy confused!"

"Steven," I said, "don't call my daughter that. And if he's so 'confused', then why is he telling the exact same story that she did, right to the last detail? I've spoken to Ronnie many times about it since that night, and there's a lot of things we never told you or Teddy. But now, he seems to have 'remembered' all of them, including the fact that he tried to force himself on his cousin!"

Steven knew he was cornered then. "Oh, come on, Leeny! Is that part really such a big deal? I mean, he's three years older than she is! In puberty! And look at what you allow that little diva to wear! Yeah, she's smart, but you let her dress and act like she's already grown! You know a teenager can't control his hormones! Teddy, he—"

I walked away from my brother then. I felt so stupid. Now I understood why David had always been so defensive of Ronnie. I could hear the spite in Steven's voice. Both he and Teddy hated Rhonda, because she was smarter than both of them. Teddy wanted to prove his superiority by bullying her, and Steven would do anything to make his own child look better than ours. I was a fool for not being able to see it before.

Now after all these years, I really regretted the way I'd treated my daughter, and I apologized to her, telling her that I would be a much better mother from then on. I begged her to forgive me for causing so many problems. For ever doubting her, and for making a stupid mistake that took her father away for nine months.

Ronnie smiled and hugged me and told me that it was okay. She would always love her Mommy.

I was so happy that I fell to my knees and hugged her as I cried.

******

-DAVID-

Let me backtrack a bit.

Months before the 'threesome' incident, Rhonda and I were making love when all of a sudden she asked me what I would do if Eileen ever caught us. I was horrified at the notion, as I didn't want to lose my wife, regardless of the number of times I'd broken our vows up to this point. All this time, I was still convincing myself that I was 'doing this for her', even though I mostly knew deep down that that excuse wasn't near good enough anymore. Like I said, after over three years of this, I had become accustomed to it, and I selfishly wanted to keep both my wife and my lover.

I didn't know what to say. Frozen by the dreadful possibility, I just hovered above Rhonda, my cock still in her pussy, but my body petrified. Rhonda just stared into my eyes for a long time, just waiting for a response before finally retracting the question, telling me just to fuck her like normal.

Then one day, my second-born son William got very ill. I immediately knew that Ronnie was behind it, and I marched to her in the 'hot rooms' and asked what I needed to do in order to fix things. First, she commanded me to strip. An hour later, while still I made slow, tender love to her, she then gave me her second demand.

"I want you to tell me that you love me, Daddy."

I grunted as I ground my hips, my voice booming in a guttural roar. "I love you, Ronnie."

"I want you to tell me that you'll always love me."

"I'll always love you, Ronnie."

"And now," she licked her lips, "I want you to tell me that it's me you really love, and not The Bitch."

I paused and held my breath. I stared in my daughter's eyes as she lay naked beneath me, staring expectantly. She just looked at me blankly, waiting for me to speak.

I tried to give her what she wanted. "It . . . It's you t-that I love, Ronnie and not—"

"No . . .!" she screamed as she slapped me across my face. The sting hurt far worse than I had expected it to, and I thought I could feel a sharp sting as if I'd been cut. Sure enough, after a second or two, I sensed a drop of blood across the left side of my face. I stared at Ronnie's right hand and saw a strange ring . . . filed and cut so that the underside was extremely sharp, much like a razor blade.

My body tensed and I glared at Rhonda. She only smiled confidently.

"I had to punish you, Daddy. You were going to lie to me. But that's okay, there's still plenty of time for me to train you.

"But I wonder . . . do you think I make William sick with something he'll recover from on his own or that he'll need me to cure for him? Which do you think it is, Daddy?"

"Please, Ronnie," I begged. "Don't hurt him. I'll do anything."

She kissed me lovingly on the lips. "I know, Daddy. So don't lie to me. When you tell me how much you love me . . . how much you hate The Bitch . . . I want to look into your eyes and believe it. And I want you to cum in my pussy the moment that you say it. You're smart, Daddy, but even you won't be able to maintain a lie during an orgasm."

She held her ring, still slightly reddened. "My little friend here will let you know each time that I don't believe you. If you feel something sharp cutting your flesh, you'll know that you've failed me."

Seeing that sharp ring, along with the murderous twinkle in Ronnie's eyes, I was stricken with terrible fear. Fear for my son, whose fate was in my hands. Fear for my own safety, from the cutting I didn't want to receive. And fear of my daughter, who I knew meant every word she said. Ronnie stared into my eyes as I contemplated her threat, the torment in my features making her pussy wetter by the second. I could feel the velvet walls of her cunt stroking and massaging my cock. Involuntarily, the physical stimulation combined with my utter terror actually made me even harder, and it made my heart beat ever faster.

"What are you waiting for, Daddy?" Ronnie slapped my ass with the ring, and I grunted as the sharp sting dug into my ass like a spur. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard. This is your chance to punish me good. If you can, make me feel just as much pain as I give you.

"And then, tell me you love me."

She made me keep this up for hours and she cut me many, many times as we fucked. Each time she did it, rather than disturb me, the sharp stings actually spurred my naturally aggressive instincts. I could feel my brain devolving, my body tensing as pain made me far more horny and primitive. I grabbed Rhonda's hair and yanked it, I pulled her tits hard, I choked her, I picked her up off the bed and slammed her against a wall while I continued to fuck her. She came on each instance, letting me take my frustrations out even as she remained firmly in control.

Every once in a while, she'd say it again: "Tell me you love me more than The Bitch."

And every time I tried to, I felt her cut into my flesh.

I had to do something drastic. The life of my son was depending on me. I needed to go deep inside my mind and rearrange all logic.

In order to convince myself of what Rhonda wanted, I had to think like her.

I did a mental comparison. I invented two completely imaginary figures in my head: "Beloved Ronnie" and "Bitch Eileen".

The way it worked was simple. In a way, no matter how twisted she became, I would always love Beloved Ronnie. I was proud her, regardless of what abominable things she did. Despite all of the horrors she subjected me and the rest of our family to, Dr. Rhonda Scott was irreplaceable to the rest of society. She developed treatments and vaccines for degenerative conditions damn near like a hobby. Beloved Ronnie, my beautiful little girl, had saved more lives in her lifetime than I could possibly imagine. If Ronnie was gone, the entire world would weep at the tragedy.

On the other, there was Bitch Eileen. Always bossy and selfish when she was pregnant. She never listened to me in an argument. She always listened to her idiot brother Steve, until she had to be smacked over the face with how much of an asshole he was. The rest of her family hated me just as much. She had me put in jail over what was just a bullshit misunderstanding. She always spent the most money in our household, despite being the lowest earner. If she was gone, most of the world wouldn't even notice.

And she had never, EVER listened to my warnings about the way she treated Rhonda as a child. Everything that Rhonda did now was her fault.

It was those feeling which saved my son's life. A short time afterward, I came hard in Ronnie's pussy, screaming how much I loved her. How much more she meant to me than The Bitch. Ronnie screamed hard as she held me close, and this time, I didn't feel anything sharp cutting my skin.

This happned right about the same time that Eileen had started becoming a bit more irritable and unhinged. Nothing seemed to be going right for her. She was written up at work for being late or absent six times due to car trouble. She'd gotten the entire vehicle checked out after the fourth incident, but every mechanic in town assured her that her car was in perfect condition. About the same time, she suddenly misplaced her credit cards and IDs, and had to go through the exhaustive process of getting new ones. Someone ruined her credit afterwards, and Eileen fought like hell to try and get that reversed. But the problem was, she couldn't prove that the purchases debts she'd racked up were caused by someone else. There were some strange expenses on her account BEFORE she lost her cards and the credit companies didn't believe there had been any odd usage because of that.

Eileen became bitchy as hell, but she and I were still fucking like crazy. My sex life with Ronnie constantly kept me aroused and ready for action, and Eileen was addicted to it. However, we didn't spend much time together otherwise, since she was always in a bad mood. Eileen never talked anymore. We never held each other. We never went out. We just woke, ate, fucked and argued.

Eventually, she confided in me that she felt like there wasn't much to our marriage besides sex and the children anymore. She and I hadn't actually gone out or enjoyed each others' company for years. She was worried that we were drifting apart.

I wanted to try and rectify that, but my double life with Ronnie was getting in the way. Like I said, by this point, I wanted sex with Ronnie as badly as she wanted sex with me. Thus, I was actually trying to balance my love life with both my wife and my daughter evenly.

Which brings me back to the beginning, when Ronnie first mentioned the idea of the threesome. Needless to say, I was stoked about the idea, but I had never even broached that sort of subject with Eileen before. Not even during our wild, teen years together. But Rhonda had given me an order, and I couldn't disobey.

******

-EILEEN-

My life is spinning out of control.

I'm only one "strike" away from being fired from a job I've held for over twenty years, all of my credit cards have been stolen and maxed, and I'm pretty sure that my husband is giving himself away to some sleazy, homewrecking bimbo.

Why is all of this happening to me!?

It's been about a half-a-year since the last time I asked David if he was cheating on me, and just as always, he denied it.

"Honey, I could never make myself do something like that to you," he said. "I would have to be some sort of monster to willingly betray my wife."

At first, his words always made me feel a bit better, but when I think about them later, I start to feel uneven. Over the past three years, David has slowly gone from flatly saying "No, I'm not cheating on you" to using more wordy and lengthy responses. I never hear the words "no" or "I'm not" anymore. His wording is always intricate and clever—always a denial, but never a flat no. The English language was always his specialty, so I suppose that only makes my suspicions feel that much more validated.

I've followed him every now and again. The latest time, I told him that I had been written up at work for car trouble six times, but really, it was only five. The sixth instance was me skipping work so that I could follow David for a day. David works in sales, so his hours are somewhat sporadic. I pick days when I knew he would think I was either at work or the 'mechanic' so he would be free to do whatever he pleased.

I've followed David on numerous occasions, but not once did I find who he was cheating with. The only things David did was work, go out to the store, go golfing with his buddies, and stay home to play with the kids. There was a girl at his job who I was almost sure would be the one, but nothing ever happened. She was young, blond, gorgeous and sexy, but as far as I could tell, she was just a customer. She and David never did anything that set off any alarms.

But other than that? Nothing. No secret phone calls. No shady rendezvous. No inappropriate hugs or signs of affection. Nothing.

I think I might be losing my mind again. I can't find any evidence of it, but . . . but I know David is cheating. God, that sounds so crazy when I type it like that! It sounds like crazy paranoia, doesn't it?

I want to shake this feeling, but I just can't. It . . . it feels like an odd tingle in the back of my neck. I can't let it go. My mind is telling me everything is fine, but my heart is going off like an air raid siren. The sex with David is better than ever, but we've been lacking intimacy. I've been having the absolute worst few months of my life lately, and David won't hold my hand and tell me it's alright or hold me close and comfort me. He won't look into my eyes. I can tell that he's pulling away from me, and it's just aggravating me even more.

Why would you do this to us, David? What do I lack that makes you risk breaking our love apart?




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 02



Well, I . . . I guess . . . I'll find out soon.

David asked me if we could have a threesome.

Now I can finally meet the bitch.

******

-DAVID-

"Why do you want a threesome?" Eileen asked me suspiciously.

"I just thought it might be a new experience for us to try," I lied. "I know you said that we don't do much besides make love anymore, but maybe we can try something that will be new to explore. Something fresh to broaden our marriage."

I was selling the pitch like I sold insurance at my day job, and I could see Eileen's interest piquing. Then, she dropped a bomb on me.

"So if I decided to bring another guy into our bedroom, you'd be okay with that?"

The suggestion hit me like a ton of bricks. Eileen had been 100% faithful to me our entire marriage, as I had been to her before I started being blackmailed by Ronnie. Like any guy, when I heard the word "threesome", I immediately thought of myself banging two chicks, but she had thrown ice water over that fire with one simple question.

But I was stuck. If I didn't sell the idea to her, then Ronnie would punish me, and that meant mortal danger to everything I cared about. Eileen herself included.

I swallowed my pride and answered, "It would be weird, hon, but I would do whatever made you feel good."

I was lying my ass off so much I thought someone might hand me an Oscar.

Eileen smiled softly at me for that, and then she said, "I'll think about that. But, I don't want to do anything you're uncomfortable with. And to be honest, I've always wondered what sleeping with another woman would be like."

I thanked God for letting me dodge a bullet there. At least for now.

Eileen and I began to discuss the details of the group session, and I have to say—we were both getting turned on by the idea. It turned out that what I said to her in lies actually came true: just talking about the idea rekindled a spark between us.

Eileen made it clear that I was not to fuck our lover without a condom, and that she was NOT going to watch while I did her. Eileen wanted this to be a full cooperative experience between the three of us. I didn't have a problem with that—I was just giddy that my wife wanted to experience something like this with me. For the first time since it'd started, I thought that my affair with Ronnie was the best thing to ever happen.

In the meantime, Ronnie introduced me to her friend, the one that I was to suggest to Eileen. She looked about twenty-two, the same age as Ronnie, but when I asked, she stated that she was actually twenty. Okay, so I was off by a couple of years. In any case, Ronnie was right—I did like her. She was very pretty, sweet and polite. I never did have sex with her, but of course, I knew that I would get the chance eventually. For now, Ronnie was simply getting the two of us acquainted, to better sell the idea that she was a friend of mine when I introduced her to Eileen.

Rhonda had created an entire cover story for me about how she was a customer at wor. Fortunately, Eileen seemed interested in meeting her. She did seem to fidget anxiously the first time they came face-to-face, and I got the sense that Eileen was somewhat jealous of how young and pretty she was. But I assured my wife that those things meant nothing to me. Which was true. I didn't actually know this girl. I'd only met her two or three times when Rhonda sent her to my job so that we could go over our "parts".

In any case, eventually the three of us retired to the bedroom, and the threesome went off without a hitch.

Afterwards, Ronnie came to me in private and kissed me on the lips. "Thank you, Daddy. Now, I have everything I need, and it's thanks to you."

I had no idea what in the hell she was talking about, and she only winked without telling me anything. Whenever I saw that twinkle in Ronnie eye, it almost made me shit myself, and this time, there was something especially malicious about it.

Shortly after that experience came and talked to me about another threesome. As we started thinking about candidates, she suddenly told me: "Okay, so there's this guy at work that I think is rather handsome and he—"

I think all of the blood drained from me at those words. I had known this was coming for a while, and I knew it was only apropos after what we'd done—and after what I'd done with Ronnie all this time—but the weight of it just struck me like a ton of bricks. I stopped the conversation and told Eileen I needed to go get some air, and I didn't return home for almost twelve hours. I didn't decide to finally come back until my wife called me and told me she was worried.

"Honey, if you don't want to do this, then you don't have to."

My guilt came crashing down . . . hard. I tried to insist that it was fine, and we could do it if she wanted to, but she knew I was lying. "I don't need anyone else but you, David. I'm only upset that you weren't honest with me the first time I mentioned it. But, that's okay, baby. Let me show you that you're more than enough man for me."

Her smile only blossomed as she dragged me into our room.

But as I lay thinking in the dark of our bedroom, with Eileen's warm, loving arms draped around me, I started thinking. I didn't expect that it would hurt so much when Eileen suggested being with another man. Even if it were with my permission, it would tear my heart in two to watch some other guy fuck my wife. I'm not insecure about my penis size—hell, I'm told it's actually quite above-average—but the thought of someone else sampling my Eileen's gorgeous body . . .

. . . It pissed me off to no end!

But then I started thinking about what I'd been doing with Ronnie. For the first time, I looked at it from Eileen's point of view. And I didn't like what I found.

I had always told myself that I had no choice about what I did with Ronnie. Yes, I enjoyed it . . . holy God did I ever . . . but it never would have started in the first place if she hadn't threatened and blackmailed me into it. While I guess you could consider me a 'willing' participant now, I had no doubt that I still loved my wife. If she ever left me because of all this, I would kill myself. I couldn't bear to live without her.

But at the same time, I couldn't live without Ronnie anymore, either.

Ronnie's body had sparked sensations in me that I had never even known existed. She controlled my mind and body with equal malleability, knowing exactly how far she could push me. I'd never felt more alive and more like a stud. My young, nubile daughter was going to impossible lengths to keep my cock in her pussy—to keep my babies in her womb—and it just excited me to no end. I still wanted to grow old with Eileen, but I was beginning to see the things that Ronnie possessed that she lacked.

I remembered the comparison between the two that I had done: 'Beloved Rhonda' versus 'Bitch Eileen'. Though I knew it was an exaggerated account of both my lovers, it was still largely true. Her bitchy attitude recently had shown me that Eileen was not good at maintaining herself when things went out of hand. At the first sign of trouble, Eileen always panics and assumes the absolute worst. While Ronnie merely stays cool and analyzes until she finds a solution to regain her control.

I thought: if I had to make a choice, which would it be?

I just have to pray she doesn't find out, I told myself, or if she does catch me, I'll just explain everyt—

And that's when I recognized that I'd fallen completely. It was then that I knew I had totally betrayed my wife.

What the hell was I saying!? 'If she catches me'!? That's exactly how cheaters think! They cheat and cheat and tell themselves that what their partner doesn't know doesn't hurt them . . . but that isn't true. Trust is very much a part of someone. It's every bit as real as their facial expressions, their feelings, and their actions. A person gives out their trust as an extension of themselves and expects the recipient to take care of it the way they'd take care of their actual body. And I had abused Eileen's trust . . . badly.

I looked at my beautiful wife sleeping beside me. I didn't deserve her. Not at all.

It was then that I knew what I had to do. Ronnie had told me what the consequences would be if I ever told my wife the truth, but I didn't care anymore. I wouldn't make any excuses. I just had to trust Eileen, the way she trusted me. Even though I had betrayed her over and over again, and she'd probably want nothing to do with me, I had to do one last thing to prove that I loved her.

But I had to do it without Rhonda knowing.

And that meant being extremely careful.

******

-EILEEN-

I hate to say it, but I really did want to enjoy our little group sex. I honestly had always wondered what another woman would be like. And that's what made it so weird. My mind was screaming at me not to enjoy it, but my body wouldn't listen. In my heart, was no way I was going to enjoy sex with the bitch that was ruining my marriage, but in reality, I enjoyed it way too much.

I wasn't terribly surprised when I saw who it was. The same blond bimbo I'd seen at David's job before. What did surprise me, however, was that she seemed as dumb as a bag of wet cat hair. She was unbelievably beautiful and possessed a humongous set of tits, but I had thought David would be above such a cheap floozy. But obviously, it was becoming clear that I didn't know my husband as well as I thought I did.

So now I had to think: what did I want to do? David seemed happier than ever, and the threesome had returned some our lost intimacy. Despite my attempts to deny it, I had to admit that I enjoyed it thoroughly, although I definitely would have wished for a different partner. I brought the idea of two men up to David and he freaked. For some reason though, the hypocrisy there actually made me feel happy. At least now I knew that David didn't just want to give me a way cheaply. I didn't want any other man but him, although I was willing to do what it took to make him happy.

But it just tore me up every time I thought of him cheating. I still had no proof that he'd done anything, so if confronted him I knew he would just deny it.

But this time, I couldn't bear to hear it anymore. Not after meeting her. Not after bringing her into our bed. Now, if I had to hear David lie to me one more time, I would lose my mind.

Also, let me confess something: it wasn't the affair that was killing me. Although the idea that some other woman was fucking my man made me jealous, it was the knowledge that I could no longer trust the man that I loved that destroyed me. David and I were supposed to be one soul, but if refused to be honest with me about something this sacred to our marriage, then he wasn't the type of man I could be with for the rest of my life. I did believe that David loved me, and I knew that I loved him with all my heart, but trust is too vital—too important to our relationship.

As I sat behind my desk at work, I twirled my wedding ring, deciding whether or not to take it off. I promised myself here and now that if I did slide this ring off of my finger, it would never be put back on. So I needed to think long and hard about this. I needed to make the choice that was going to affect the rest of my life.

Was trust so important to my marriage that I was prepared to end it here and now? I couldn't prove David's infidelity, so if I divorced him, I had no leverage. The split would destroy both of us. I needed to really know whether or not being able to trust the love of my life would be worth all of that headache. All of the aggravation. All of the pain.

And then I decided, yes . . . it was.

Like I said, trust is everything. If David had wanted another woman, he could have come to me. I don't know if I would have agreed to let him sleep around, but at least I would have been given a choice. At least I would have known that my husband respected me enough to allow me to make some decisions in what was supposed to be a partnership. Hell, even if he'd cheated on me, but came and confessed to it, I would have likely forgiven him. Like I said, my only dream is to grow old with him, and I'm willing to sacrifice almost anything to do that.

Except trust.

With my vision blurred by tears, I gripped the ring tight and began to slide it off. My hands shook and shivered the whole while, and my heart felt like it was tearing in half.

And then, just at that moment, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I said, trying my best to hide the fact that I'd been crying.

"Hey baby," said David's voice.

Hearing him say that, just after what I'd decided to do, almost made be shatter to pieces. But, I held it together and replied, "Hey honey. Um . . . what's up?"

"I just, ah, wanted to ask if you would mind heading to the Secretary of State's office and getting a new plate sticker for me. Somehow, the old one rubbed off of my car and I gotta get it replaced before I risk a ticket."

I hesitated for a long while.

"Hello?" David said. "Leeny, are you there?"

"David, I . . . we need to—" I bit my lip, desperately wanting to say what was on the tip of my tongue, but being way too spineless to do it. "I'll pick it up on the way home, okay?"

"Thanks, sweetheart. This means a lot to me."

"Yeah, okay" was all I could say.

"Love you."

"I . . . love you, too."

******

I got to the Secretary's office shortly after I left work, and the whole time I wondered what the hell I was doing there. Why was I doing this? My marriage was over. Why would I do this for a man who obviously didn't love me enough to stop betraying my trust?

And the answer was . . . because I loved him. And I couldn't just walk away.

But still, I toyed with the ring on my finger, still firmly locked in place just for now. I had bought myself more time to think, but my answer still hadn't changed. It would take something dramatic to convince me that there was a chance to save my marriage. To make me believe that David still loved me.

Then suddenly, I heard his voice. "Eileen."

I spun in shock, finding David standing right behind me in the vehicle sticker line. "David!" I cried. "What are you doing here? I thought you needed me to—"

"You have to follow me now," he said. "We don't have much time."

David grabbed my wrist, firmly but gently, and led me away from the crowd. In my heels, I was barely able to keep up with him as he walked so briskly. The whole time, I was calling to him, demanding an explanation for why he told me to come here if he could just have done it himself. Eventually, David pulled me around a corner, into the employee area of the surrounding mall.

"Okay, this is good," he said, "I think we can talk here."

"What's going on, David?" I asked him angrily. "What's this about?"

David took a deep breath, and I saw the color drain from him. He took slow deep breaths as if he was gearing up his courage to say something. I felt a sharp dread tingling in my spine as I waited.

"Eileen," he said with remorseful eyes. "I've been cheating on you."

Even though I knew it. Even though I'd known for a while, that didn't stop my heart from breaking. Just hearing David admit that, just hearing him say that he'd betrayed me and our marriage vows, made me burst into tears and start pounding my fist into his chest.

"You bastard! I knew it! I knew it! Damn you! You BASTARD! Oh God!" David didn't raise a hand to stop me or to defend himself. He just let me beat on his chest again and again as I let out all of my emotion. "Why?! Why would you do it!? And for her!? She's just some dumb blond bimbo! How could you throw away everything just for something that stupid?!"

"No," David said gently. "You've got that part wrong, Leeny. It wasn't with her."

"What?" I said, taken by complete surprise. "Then . . . then who was it?"

David turned his head away from me, and he looked down at the floor. I didn't think it was possible, but it seemed like this confession was going to be even harder than his first. I could see tears start to flow down his cheeks as he started to tell me.

"It was . . . Oh God forgive me . . . It was . . . Ronnie."

My entire body went cold. I couldn't have heard that right.

"Ronnie? OUR Ronnie? Our daughter?"

He only nodded.

"You . . . you sick FUCK!" I yelled, and I started to storm away. But then he grabbed my arm.

"Don't . . . don't you touch me, you MONSTER!"

But he didn't let go. "I deserve that," he said. "I deserve everything you say to me right now, but I need you to listen. I can't just let you go just yet."

"David, take your filthy hands off me right now, or I'll scream!"

"Leeny, please listen to me. Your life is in horrible danger."

I held off from screaming, but I didn't stop struggling. "What . . .? Why should I believe you?!"

"You shouldn't, really," he shrugged. As I finally calmed down enough to actually look into David's eyes, I saw how much this was hurting him. How frightened he seemed to be. "You really have no reason to trust me anymore, sweetheart. But . . . I'm begging you to."

He was so sincere. I found my anger beginning to fade, replaced by pity. "David . . . what's going on? What happened?"

"Eileen . . . Rhonda hates you."

Out of all the words David said to me at that moment, I think those cut the deepest.

"She . . . she hates me?!"

"Yes," he said sadly. "For the past three years, Eileen, Rhonda has been blackmailing me into sex with her. No, not blackmail . . . it's pure brainwashing. She's been threatening me, you, our reputations, and the lives of our children. She's been forcing my compliance by telling me that she could ruin any one of our lives—or just kill us outright."

"That . . . that's just . . . how could she hope to get away with it!?"

"She doesn't plan to," he told me. "She doesn't care about what happens to her if she ever has to carry out her threats. She's made it clear that her only goals are to fuck me and screw you over. If either one of those goals fails, she'll have nothing else to lose."

"Jesus, David . . ." Then, something else he said hit me. "Oh my God, three years?! Then, our grandchildren . . ."

David nodded. "Are mine."

I sunk against the wall behind me, letting my husband's words really drove home. All this time, I'd thought Rhonda had forgiven me for what I'd done all those years ago, but I was dead wrong. She had borne me a grudge all this time, just looking for ways to hurt me. Of course, David could easily be lying about all of this just to make excuses for fucking around behind my back, but I had no reason to believe that. He had no reason to tell me about the affair at all . . .

. . . Unless he did so out of love.

"David, we have to go to the police . . .!"

He shook his head. "Not around here, at least. She'll have thought of that. It's the most obvious thing to do. Besides that, we have no proof. Rhonda could claim that we're just trying to ruin her reputation and get her money. She makes more than both of us combined now, so it would be easy for her to sell the idea that her father had been sexually abusing her for years with her mother's cooperation and, now that she's rich, we just want her out of the way so we can take everything that's hers."

"Well. . . what are we supposed to do, David? How do we fight this?"

David glanced at his watch. "Oh Jesus, I've wasted too much time. It took me days to plan this and coordinate our schedules to pull this off. Ronnie doesn't know that we're both here at the same time. Before I came here, I went to the gym and changed clothes and took a shower to make sure that I wasn't wearing a bug or a wire. I took three cabs to make sure I wasn't being followed. But now, I need to get back to the gym and pick up my clothes just to avoid letting Ronnie figure anything out."




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 03



For my new readers, first let me extend a hearty welcome. Second, let me explain this story a bit. This is the third installment of my Daddy's Little Psychopath series. Chapter One can be found here and Chapter Two can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, mother-daughter incest, rough sex, reluctance, and blackmail. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

This story picks up where Chapter Two left off, but backtracks a bit to explain what happened after Eileen discovered her husband's affair with their daughter. Like before, this story switches perspectives between the protagonists quite a bit.

Addendum to editors: This story does not contain any scenes of explicit sex with characters under the legal age of consent.



******



-EILEEN-

"Now that we understand each other, listen to me very carefully . . ."

My heart was pounding as I listened to my daughter's voice on the other end. I heard the spite and hate slathered on every word she spoke, and my memory was drawn back to everything she'd said and done over the past decade or so. It wasn't easy for me to accept, but the reality that I faced told me Rhonda had been keeping her true feelings hidden from me that entire time. Every time she smiled at me . . . every time we hugged . . . every present she bought for my birthday . . . every time we had girl talk . . . and every single time she said 'I love you' . . . it was all a lie. 

The harsh truth was that Rhonda, my own daughter, considered me to be the worst scum on the planet and didn't care whether I lived or died.

"The first thing that I want you to do is go home, hug your husband, tell him how much you love him . . . and then fuck him stupid," she told me. "You have no idea how much I hate telling you that. You really don't. Hell, you don't even deserve him, you know. Every night that he spends in bed with you is an absolute waste an amazing man with a fabulous cock. In fact, I bet you don't even know what to do with it. I bet you didn't even know that your husband likes having his cock and balls scratched, did you?"

When I didn't answer immediately, Ronnie spat: "I asked you a question, Bitch."

"N-No, Ronnie, I didn't," I answered sincerely, my voice trembling. 

"Heh. I found that out after only fucking him for a few months. And how long have you two been married? Twenty-four years, isn't it? Two dozen years of marriage and you still don't even understand how to turn your own husband on and fully satisfy him."

I sobbed unintentionally. I had tried not to let Rhonda understand how much her words truly hurt me, but it was almost impossible to hide. I knew what she said was true, and it made me feel so pathetic. David had always satisfied me sexually, but I'd never been the adventurous sort in bed. David never asked me about doing anything to spice up our loving, and he had never expressed any sort of dissatisfaction, so I never knew that he had these other fetishes or turn-ons. Even twenty-four years later, David and I had never so much as tried anal sex before.

Even worse, during the three years David and Rhonda had been fucking each other, my sex life with him had become more healthy than ever. David was insatiable now; even if we made love to each other until compelte exhaustion during the night, he would be ready and willing again first thing in the morning. David was a complete beast in bed now, and had been for the past several years. At first, I'd hoped that it was because of some sort of mid-life hormones or something, but now, the truth of it had become clear to me. The reason my husband's libido had suddenly exploded was because our younger, nubile daughter was pushing him to the absolute brink.

Was that really the power Ronnie held over him? Was she really that much better than me?

"So, like I said, I want you to go home and fuck your husband and tell him that you'd never even think of leaving his side. Tell him that our fucking doesn't bother you in the least Tell him that you love him more than life itself. Tell him that horses can fly and dinosaurs lived on the moon. Whatever. I don't care what you say to him, so long as you make it clear that you're staying. I want Daddy to be completely happy. When he realizes that he gets to fuck both his wife and his daughter without reservation, I want him to feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

"You have one hour to get home and do what I told you, Bitch, but my instructions for you don't end there. This weekend, Daddy is taking the kids to a ballgame, and you and I will have the house all to ourselves. Whatever plans you had, you're going to cancel them and report to my 'hot rooms'. You're now a part of this new life, whether you want to be or not."

Her voice then plunged to icy, emotionless depths, and every part of my body immediately went stiff.

"And if you don't do exactly as I've told you, if you dare try to ruin things between Daddy and me, I will destroy your fucking life one step at a time."

She hung up, and left me standing inside of the mall, my entire world suddenly ripped out from beneath my feet. 

From just that brief conversation, I immediately understood why David had come to be dominated by her. Rhonda had a way of commanding authority; she didn't just ask you to do something, she commanded you. She didn't merely outline her plans to you, she told you specifically how things were going to be. She told you your very place in life. The mere tone of her voice invoked fear, and it was only after experiencing it that I realized how frozen in complete terror I had been. If this is what David had been putting up with for close to three years, then he had never stood a chance.

No longer having a reason to stick around the mall, I headed straight for my car and started the engine. Rhonda had instructed me that I had an hour to get home, and I wanted to get there as soon as possible. I didn't know how Rhonda had figured out David's plan, but it was obvious that she was monitoring me in some way. It'd be dangerous to linger or dawdle anywhere—Rhonda might very well assume that I was trying to find a way to sell her out.

As I drove home, a number of things went through my mind. First amongst them was jealousy. Parents are supposed to be proud of their children and celebrate when they accomplish more than they ever could, right? Yet I couldn't feel anything but pain and envy at the idea that my daughter was simply better at everything that mattered to me. She was the main provider for our family, she was vastly more intelligent than me, she was far more youthful and beautiful than me . . . 

. . . And she satisfied my husband sexually better than I did. 

Somehow, even with all of this on my mind, I kept it together and tucked it out of my head when I got home. I ran right to a shocked David and threw my arms around him. I did exactly what Rhonda had told me to do: I sold the idea that I didn't care if they were intimate, so long as he loved me and we could be together. I tried to force myself to believe every word, because otherwise I wasn't sure my lies would convince David, either. It seemed to work, though, as David quickly scooped me into his arms and carried me to our bed. He undressed me quickly and pushed me on top of the mattress. 

It had been a while since David had licked or sucked my pussy, but he did it eagerly this time. He gently pushed my thighs apart with his hands and buried his lips and tongue into my mound. I was cumming in seconds as my husband's tongue rubbed animatedly against my clit, and my backed arced while I screamed in orgasm. David's lips touched my thighs, and he ran his hot, wet tongue along my legs until I was soaking the sheets with my pussy juices. 

Part of me wanted to think: "How much of this has Rhonda taught him? How many times did she make him do this until he not only became good at it, but enjoyed it?" The thought that my husband's sexual appetite was a result of his affair with our daughter should have killed my mood, but it didn't. My mind was completely overtaken by lust, and all I could think about was how good this felt. It was hard to care about where David had learned this or who had taught him when he was so damn good at it. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore and I begged him to mount me.

David did exactly as I pleaded, and within a minute, he had thrust his gorgeous cock inside me and was pressing his hard body atop mine while he ground away. My arms held him close, and my hands explored his back, noticing for the first time the scratches and claw marks that had undoubtedly been put there by our daughter's rough fingernails. A few of the wounds still seemed fresh, and David often groaned savagely and lustfully as I stroked one. It was hurting him, but it made him fuck me harder. The process was automatic, almost like instinct. The more physical pain I caused him, the much more intense the fucking was.

Rhonda, you magnificent bitch, I thought.

David pressed his lips to mine and our tongues wrestled as his cock stayed inside me, the erect girth sliding against my moist tunnel. I had lost count of the number of times David had made me cum, and I begged him not to stop. David kept up a vigorous pace for well over half an hour before either of us even began to tire. 

His body began to shudder, and I knew his orgasm was coming. I held him close and yelled, "Do it, baby! Cum in my pussy! I want to feel you! Please, honey!"

On command, David came inside me, and I felt his potent cum rushing inside, filling me and searching for a way to make me pregnant. Unfortunately, I had been using birth control for quite some time, and my doctor wanted me to get tied. I'd already had four children—twins most recently—and my body wasn't capable of delivering anymore without health concerns. It would simply be too risky for both myself and a child if I got pregnant again, so I would never be able to bear my husband another child.

But that's okay, because our daughter can take care of that for him.

That stray thought made me gasp. Why did I just think that? How could I possibly get myself to think that my husband impregnating our daughter was 'okay'? 

 Jesus, what was wrong with me? 



******



-DAVID-

The night before, my wife and I made love until neither of us could move. We lay in each others' arms the entire night, and I'd never felt more loved or secure. 

Then, the following morning, my daughter slipped into the bathroom while I showered, and I fucked her against the shower wall until I came deep in her pussy. But even after we 'cleaned ourselves', the two of us were only more turned on, so my baby girl told me to follow her to her bedroom, where pounded her pussy long and hard for over an hour until my cum flooded inside her once again. 

Afterward, I came out to find my wife fixing breakfast, so I walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek as we summoned our entire family for their meal.

So, to recap, I spent the night making love to my devoted wife, woke the next day and fucked my daughter, and then sat down to eat breakfast with them and all of our children.

Would I be a bad guy if I admitted to loving this arrangement? 

It had been about a week since I confessed to my wife about my affair with my daughter, and to my utter surprise, Eileen decided to stay with me. I gave her the opportunity to leave—to free herself from Rhondas trap—but she chose to stay. Because she loves me, she said. And as long as I loved her, she could share me with Rhonda. That I could have both of them, if I wished to.

Dear Lord, I was in Heaven. Just what have I ever done to earn this? 

Until that day, I had been wracked by guilt whenever I looked into my wife's eyes and lied to her. But now that she knew the truth, I felt more compelled to prove my love to her than ever. I understood the sacrifice she was making, and I wanted to show my appreciation with all of my heart. With Rhonda, there was sex, but no true romance. Oh sure, I loved Rhonda in a sense. She was my brilliant daughter, my gorgeous and sexy lover, and the mother of half of my children. My mind went blank whenever she stripped and showed off her luscious tits, her perfect hips, and her heart-shaped ass. Rhonda was the vision of feminine perfection, and she never fails to drive me crazy with lust . . .

. . . But she could never, ever, replace Eileen in my heart.

Being in the situation I had been in for the past three years really changed the way I thought. Until recently, I'd never really thought of the differences between lust and love . . . between sex and love-making. I'd always thought that they were just words that meant roughly the same thing . . . but now, with two lovers to look after, I was beginning to form a different outlook. Looking between the two of them, I could understand the difference. 

I loved them both, in different ways. And I lusted after them both, for different reasons.

The thing that worried me most was that, without me, the two of them were completely incompatible. By now, it was no secret that Rhonda absolutely hated her mother, and there was no mistaking the mix of fear and resentment on Eileen's face whenever she glanced at our daughter. I was living in a house with two tigresses who wanted to claw each others' eyes out, and the only thing that held them both back was their mutual desire for me.

It didn't take a genius to see how this was a ticking time bomb.

Now, unless you've in this situation yourself, this may simply sound petty and selfish, but . . . I knew I could never give up either one of them. Both of them completed me in different ways, and the loss of either would be devastating. It was far too late for things to go back to what they once had been—and I wouldn't have wanted them to even if it were possible. I wanted things to move forward, not backward. I wanted progress, not regress. 

But what could I do? 

How could I keep two feuding lovers happy without choosing between either of them?

In the end, I concluded that the key was Ronnie. Eileen, for whatever reason, had chosen to stay with me, and she was doing her best to put up with what our daughter and I did. Eileen was making an incredible sacrifice—not just for me, but for our entire family—so I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask anything more of her. 

Rhonda, on the other hand . . .



******



-EILEEN-

The rest of the week was somewhat uneventful, other than the big lie that permeated through our household. 

I knew about Rhonda's affair with David, but he didn't know that Rhonda was aware that he'd told me. Rhonda had then instructed me to keep secret about that knowledge to David. So, I had to lie to my husband while at the same time he and I lied to Rhonda. If you're having trouble following, don't worry about it—it was an utter nightmare for me to keep straight as well. All you need to understand was that Rhonda was the puppet-master behind everything. And, genius that she was, she never seemed to have trouble keeping it all straight herself. So, for the most part, I just tried to follow her lead.

But, I'll be honest: that first week—when David and Rhonda would disappear for hours at a time . . . when Rhonda would walk by in her slutty outfit and David would unconsciously turn his eyes to leer at her . . . when Rhonda would cast me triumphant, knowing smirks every time our eyes met--it was hard. It did horrible things to my psyche every time I realized that my husband and daughter were off somewhere fucking while I was in the basement doing their laundry or while I was looking after the kids. I felt like I was the concubine, tending to Mistress and Master's needs while they did as they pleased with each other. 

I felt like the lesser person, despite being a woman who had been dutifully married to her husband for over two decades. 

There were times when I just wanted to scream or break down and cry, but I couldn't do anything that would shatter my act. Mostly, I tried to make up for it at night when David and I were alone together. As always, David was magnificent in bed, and sex was becoming a narcotic for me now—every problem I had seemed to melt away when I was making love to my husband. It was the one thing that kept me going.



******



Eventually, the weekend finally came, and just as Ronnie had said, David took all of the kids—yes, all five of them—to a baseball game with his buddies and their families. It was an outing had been planned for weeks, but I'd elected not to go because I hate sporting events. I thought it was a bit strange that a man would be willing to take five children to a ballgame on his own, but now that I knew how manipulative Rhonda could be, I had to wonder how much of it had been her idea.

When they were all gone, and the house was empty, I honored my deal to meet her inside of her secret little den, what she called the 'hot rooms'. They were a section of the house to which Rhonda had barred all access. Since it was Dr. Rhonda Scott, the successful and wealthy virologist, who'd bought this house, there were several places she always kept locked. However, on this day, I found them unlocked, and for the first time, I was able to see what the inside of Rhonda's secret area looked like.

Honestly, it was almost like a complete home, in its own right. There was a kitchen, a bathroom, an entire area for recreation and exercise . . . and a bedroom. It was impossible not to notice the queen-size platform bed, ready-made for two individuals to share comfortably. Though it was made up tidily as I passed by, I could definitely smell the pungent aroma of sex inside; it then occurred to me that David hadn't been in bed when I woke up this morning, and his side had been cold enough for me to realize that he'd slipped away hours before. I hadn't actually seen him again until just before breakfast.

A chilling question entered my mind. Had Rhonda "summoned" him here, or had David simply left my side in the middle of the night because he developed a sudden craving for our daughter's pussy? Had my David willingly abandoned my side just to sneak off and fuck her? I tried hard not to think of it, doing my best to hold my emotions.

I would not give Rhonda the satisfaction.

Eventually, I reached an area which seemed something like a library. Rhonda had always loved books; it was David's insistence upon reading to her at a young age that had first caused them to bond. With Rhonda's IQ, she was capable of understanding even the most complicated subject matter very quickly, so I had no doubt in my mind that she'd read each one of the hundreds of wall-to-wall books inside the room. 

After that, I entered one final door which led to a steep staircase leading downward. I was quickly swallowed by darkness as I descended the steps, with only a soft, artificial glow keeping things lit enough for me to see.

At last, I found Rhonda, seated behind a desk adorned with a complicated web of computers, monitors, and all sorts of digital equipment that I have no expertise in. All of this equipment had to have cost Rhonda a fortune, and I couldn't even guess at how much the electricity or network costs ran. Even Rhonda, with the money she made as a doctor and virologist, should have been bled dry just to maintain an operation on this type of scale . . . 

. . . unless she had another source of income.

Seated with her legs crossed and out on display, she was dressed in a very sexy silk robe which she hadn't even attempted to tie in the front. As such, her ample breasts were on full display, along with the rest of her cream-colored body and skin. On her otherwise bare feet, Rhonda wore a pair of heeled slippers which she allowed to hang off halfway from the foot draped on top. 




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 03



For the first time in my life, I found myself noting just how perfectly-shaped Rhonda's legs were. Her thighs were thick and meaty, but with more lean muscle than fat. Her legs possessed an enticing amount of definition which only seemed to make them seemed more streamlined and sleek, with every single curve accentuated. 

Rhonda was so physically perfect that it felt difficult to believe she had ever come out of my body. I had always felt that she looked more like myself than David, but she'd definitely gotten her body type from his side of the family. I often met David's mother, and she was an absolutely stunning woman well into her sixties. It was obvious, looking at Rhonda now, that she would probably keep her impeccable beauty will into her gray years. 

Me? I'm still counting the crow's feet and stretch marks.

Rhonda never looked up toward me and kept her focus exclusively upon the monitor. From where I stood, I could barely see what was on them, but it seemed to be a split-screen of various surveillance images. I only saw them flash for a second, but I was certain I'd seen an image of my bedroom, the garage, and even the inside of David's office. Rhonda clicked away to her desktop before I could get a really good look, and then she finally spun in her chair to face me.

"Hello, 'Mother'." She used the title with such disdain and mockery that it had just about lost all meaning. "Just so that you know, I don't much care how much of that you saw. These are only a few of the ways that I keep track of the two of you, and I have several others. Also, I've remedied the mistake that allowed Daddy to almost slip my notice a few nights ago, so you can be sure that it'll never happen again. I don't make the same mistakes twice.

"And frankly, the sooner the two of you accept that I own both of you, the happier we can all be. I'm having lots of fun and I enjoy what Daddy and I do. But know that I'll do whatever it takes to keep what I want, and if I go down, I'm taking the two of you with me."

My heart was pounding and I merely nodded to Ronnie, indicating that I understood.

Rhonda tilted her head, resting her cheek on her hand as she studied me like a raptor studying its meal. "But the one I'm most concerned about is you. Daddy is clever, so that makes him somewhat predictable. You, I'm afraid, are so monumentally stupid that I don't quite know what you're going to do. But, even the dumbest animal understands not to stick its nose somewhere that burns, so I think I need to make a few things clear.

"I have several ways that I can destroy you, emotionally, socially, or even physically if need be. Right this second, I could make a phone call. Your abused and battered body would be found three months from now inside of a ditch somewhere in New Jersey, without a shred of evidence pointing to me. Heh . . . in fact, I've already practiced my oh so very tearful and distraught reaction when the police arrive with the grave news that my long-lost mother's body has been found after several harsh months. Months in which Daddy and I will have spent . . . 'consoling' each other, of course.

"But then, after weeks of further investigation, the police will slowly discover evidence that points to the late Eileen Scott as a sexual predator who abused her position as a public librarian to stalk several of her victims. By the time I'm finished, that name will be remembered in the same vein as Ted Bundy and Mary Bell. To everyone that matters, your death will be seen as little else but karmic justice. Just an ugly, monstrous woman who reached a sad, but deserving end. No one will ever bat another eyelash in remembrance of you, except perhaps as a cautionary tale to scare children straight.

"However, let me assume . . . just for giggles . . . that you're not quite as dumb as I take you for. Even if, for whatever odd reason, you managed to take me by surprise and murder me, or to expose my schemes to the public, my absence would prompt a number of things to happen and the end result would not be much more pleasant for you. For a few months, maybe even a few years, everything will seem fine. You'll think that you're safe. That you've won. But then, all of a sudden, you're on your way to work and you stop at a red light when a group of men in ski masks show up and take you. You'll know they work for me when one of them whispers to you, 'Rhonda gives her love'. Then, they'll take you to dark, rat-infested factory and do things to you that I'd rather leave to your imagination.

"And if you think that this is a bluff, that there's no way I could arrange anything like that, then I welcome you to challenge me. Everything I've done for the second half of my life has been to set this game in motion. You have no idea how much I would enjoy making the last hours of your life as unpleasant as possible. Punishing your stupidity is something I enjoy only secondarily to feeling Daddy's load inside of me.

"Or, if that doesn't do it for you, then know that the lives of your children hinge on my satisfaction as well. I consider them to be pale filth in comparison to the flawless, wonderful children that I made for Daddy, and that I will continue to make for him far, far into the future. The thought of harming a child means absolutely nothing to me, and much less one of your fetid atrocities. I will end them if I have to, and I assure you that it will not be pleasant.

"So, if you suddenly find yourself overwhelmed by the need to something incredibly stupid and consideration for your own safety doesn't deter you, then perhaps thinking of your children would."

Her eyes then narrowed. "But then, you've never given much of a damn about your own child before. So maybe not. Haha . . . it doesn't matter to me, either way. I'm sure to be entertained no matter what you do."

So this was how Rhonda saw me—as someone who had never cared about her at all. But that wasn't true . . . if anything, my failing had always been that I'd cared too much. I had always felt that something was 'wrong' with Ronnie, even at a very young age. Normal girls didn't try to cut the wings off birds. Normal girls didn't slice the limbs off their dolls. Normal girls didn't stab their cousins in the stomach and then feel absolutely nothing about it. Ronnie had done all of these things, and for years I had tried my best to find out why and 'fix' her. 

But I had never realized that Rhonda wouldn't want to be 'fixed'. Or that she would resent the idea of ever being considered 'broken' to begin with. Rhonda was a pure narcissist, who felt that everything she did was flawless and impeccable. The fact that I, unlike David, didn't absolutely worship her for her beauty or her intellect, made me her enemy.

"I'll tell you the same things that I told Daddy. For the rest of the afternoon, we're entering 'Silent Time' now, and that means you are not allowed to speak unless—"

Suddenly, Rhonda stopped and pondered.

"You know what? Nevermind. Forget I said anything. You can say whatever you want, whenever you want. Speak your mind, Mother dear. I won't stop you."

What was that about? Why had Rhonda just reneged a chance to give me an order? Why would she make it okay for me to just speak my mind whenever I felt like?

If Rhonda being tyrannical made me feel frightened, then her being considerate made me downright paranoid.

When she was finally within arms' length of me, Rhonda's hand rose and she outstretched a finger to me. She lowered the finger onto my collarbone, just below my neck. Then, slowly . . . carefully . . . she took the very tip of her fingertip and glided it down my chest. Her touch made my entire body shake uncontrollably, and I released an instinctive moan. My reaction caused Rhonda's eyes to glance up at me and smile, as her finger continued to slide downward, hooking the zipper of my blouse and undoing it as her fingernail continued to tease my sensitive flesh.

"Daddy likes it when I touch him like this," Ronnie said haughtily. "I know all of his sensitive, highly-erogenous spots. Furthermore, in the three years that we've been fucking, he's even come to know mine. We actually share a lot of them in common, Daddy and I. We've come to know each others' bodies so well that when we take our time, we make each other cum maybe twice or even three times during one session."

Ronnie continued slide her finger around my exposed chest, the extreme-most edge of her nail igniting my nerves and bringing my bosom to the bursting point of pleasure.

Then, Ronnie whispered softly to me, "How does that make you feel?"

"R-R-Ronnie," I stammered quietly. "P-Please don't . . ."

Rhonda scoffed. "Don't what? Don't make you feel fantastic?" When my zipper had been lowered fully, all the way to the bottom of ribcage, Rhonda used her fingers to press the folds of blouse aside so that my nipples were visible. "Look at how hard these are. You're enjoying every second of this."

God help me, but I was. Whether I wanted it to or not, my body was reacting completely on its own. Rhonda knew well what she was doing, and she was quite adept at learning how to make my body respond. But that wasn't all—Rhonda and David must have finished fucking hours ago, and yet Rhonda was still dressed this way. At first, I thought it was to rub my nose in what she'd done with husband, but as she slowly slid her fingers around my breast, delicately pinching my nipple, that wasn't how I felt at all.

Whether I wanted it or not, my body was actually responding to this.

I tried to deny it, but I'd been somewhat turned on ever since I'd entered the basement and saw how obscenely-dressed my daughter was. Further, knowing that she'd just fucked her father not even hours ago only excited me more. 

Rhonda leaned into me, the naked flesh of our breasts gently coming into contact. The feel of Rhonda's soft chest warmed me. Slowly, Rhonda slid my blouse down from my shoulders, eventually exposing my chest completely. My arms became entangled within the sleeves and folds of my blouse, restricting my movement and allowing Rhonda complete control. 

As Rhonda looked into my eyes, and I into hers, a strange feeling overcame me. Although she did look much more like myself, she still boasted the best of David's looks. I could see flashes of my husband as I shivered and moaned from her touch. I was finding myself almost orgasming from nipple play alone, despite the fact that it was my daughter doing it. Or perhaps, it would have been more accurate to say that I was orgasming because it was my daughter that did it. It felt so dirty . . .so absolutely immoral . . . 

But it didn't last long. My titilation turned into immediate agony when Rhonda tightly gripped my exposed nipple and twisted . . . HARD. I screamed out and my eyes popped open. With my arms still caught within my half-removed blouse, I couldn't do anything to stop her except try to back away.

"Don't you dare try to stop me, Bitch," she told me with the most hate-filled eyes I'd ever seen. "You deserve this. You know that you deserve this, don't you?"

"Aaaaaah! P-Please, Ronnie! It . . . it hurts!"

That didn't serve to stop her at all. In fact, it actually seemed to spur her on. "Tell me that you deserve this, Bitch. Tell me that this is justice for trying to take my Daddy away!"

I think Rhonda bringing up that old shame actually caused me more pain than the nipple-twisting did. Yes, roughly ten years ago, I fucked up horribly and made a mistake which put my husband in jail for nine months. For years afterwards, I'd worked hard to try and make up for that error, redoubling my efforts as a wife and mother until my husband and daughter both forgave me.

Or so I had thought.

"R-Ronnie, please . . . it was . . . ahhhhh . . . it was eleven years ago . . .!"

She twisted harder as she insisted, "Tell me what I want to hear, Bitch, or I swear to God, I'll twist this until it tears off."

I was in tears and I couldn't bear it anymore. "Agggh!! Yes, yes! I-I deserve this!! I took . . . took your fa-father away f-from you, a-a-and this is my punishment!"

The worst thing was that, somewhere deep inside of me, I wasn't making that up. Somewhere, in the darkest part of my soul, this was actually how I felt.

There hadn't been a single day that had gone by in these eleven years that I hadn't regretted what I'd done. On that day, eleven years ago, I had called the police over a petty disagreement between David and I, about Ronnie. It was right after Ronnie had stabbed Teddy, her cousin. Both children had their own version of the event, each contradicting the other. When I refused to believe my own daughter's story, David became incensed. For David, Ronnie was his little angel, and he couldn't fathom taking anyone else's word over hers.

Things got heated, and David angrily assaulted an officer. I'd never expected him to do that. David wasn't a violent man—he'd never so much as even raised a hand toward me. How the hell could I have known that he'd swing on a cop!? 

But, I still don't blame him for it. He was an angry father acting on instinct. I place the real blame on myself. Why did I even call the police in the first place? Because I was angry I guess, but if I'd never done something so moronic, David never would have gone to jail, I wouldn't have lost my husband for nine months, our family never would have been torn apart . . . 

. . . And my own daughter wouldn't hate me as much as she did now.

"My fault. This is all my fault," I sobbed. "I deserve this. This is my punishment. I ruined my family. It all went wrong because of me."

Rhonda released my nipple, and I fell to my knees, sobbing and gasping for breath. As I struggled to regain my senses, I saw one of her slippers kick off of her foot. 

"Lick it," she told me. 

I stared up into Ronnie's eyes, and she only continued to stare down in contempt, expecting me to follow her commands. Feeling my heart quickly drain of hope, my tongue timidly reached out for my daughter's foot. I took a deep swallow as I stared, hesitant. 

"Please, Ronnie," I begged. "Haven't you done enough to—"

"Do it, Bitch," she ordered.

Her insistence lit a fire inside me, and I took my mouth to my daughter's toes and began to lick them, slowly. This, of course, was another first for me, in many different ways. I'd never done anything like this before—not even with David. It sounds weird, but as I let my tongue run along each of my daughter's tiny phalanges, all I could actually think about was how moist and smooth they were. How warm they felt, like the rest of her body. 

I felt a rush—something that's difficult for me to describe—as I worked my daughter's lower appendage with my mouth. There I was, on my knees inside this dark and cold cellar, servicing my own daughter's foot with my lips and tongue. 

I heard Ronnie let out a slow, lustful sigh. For the first time, I noticed that while ran my tongue across her toes, Ronnie kept a finger inside her pussy, slowly sliding it in and out, allowing me to see the digit glistening with her juices. I was a bit puzzled at first, as I didn't think there was any chance that I actually turned Rhonda on in any physical way. But, as I watched her, I began to understand. 

It wasn't that she was turned on by what I was doing as much as why I was doing it. Rhonda relished the power, the dominance. She loved being treated like an empress, and having me—the person she hated most—demonstrating my . . . 'inferiority' . . . turned her on immensely. 

Indeed, that was exactly what a narcissist like Rhonda would be turned on by.

I started to stop and look up at her, but she stopped and pulled away from me, stepping back into her heeled slipper. 

"Okay. That's enough," she told me. "Get back on your feet."

When I was standing straight again, Rhonda began to speak.

"This much should be obvious, but I feel I should explain anyway: from today forward, you will become a happy, willing little cuckquean for Daddy and me. The only meaning in your shitty little life now is doing everything in your power to ensure our happiness and see that all of our needs are met . . . sexually or otherwise. 

"To provide an example, if I decide that I need Daddy to myself for an entire weekend, you will remove yourself and the kids for a few days so that we can fuck anywhere and anytime we please. Take them to your parents' house. Take them Disneyland if you so choose. I don't give a shit, so long as you understand that while you are gone, I will be fucking your husband at every opportunity and he'll definitely cum inside me within every room of our house. And perhaps a couple of times in your bed.

"Additionally, if Daddy's age someday catches up with him and he becomes unable to keep up with regularly fucking both of us, it is my bed that he will occupy from then on, and you will have to do without. Is that understood?"

I couldn't help but cringe, but I nodded nonetheless.

"Repeat it to me, then," she said. "What is your purpose?"

I swallowed. "To . . . to make sure that you and David are satisfied, s-sexually or . . . or otherwise."

"What will you do if I decide I want him to myself for a time?"  

"Clear myself and the kids from the house."

Ronnie grinned evilly. "So that what?"

I bit my lip, hesitant to respond. "So t-that . . . so that you and David can fuck anywhere and anytime you please."

The damn smile on her face made my blood boil. She knew how painful it felt for me to say that—to give another woman, especially my own daughter, permission to take ownership of the man I'd married. She was making it clear to me now that she considered David to be her mate and lover, not mine. As I'd mentioned before, over the past week, Ronnie had made me feel like a concubine in my own marriage, and it seemed that she aimed to keep things that way for a long, long time. 



******



-DAVID-

"It's me," I said, knocking on the entrance to Rhonda's 'hot rooms'. I saw a small light above the door flash once, and then the hard metal door clicked. I turned the handle and the heavy door swung open to grant my entrance. 

As I made my way through the various quarters inside, I eventually came to the spare bedroom and found a half-naked Rhonda, dressed in little besides a set of bra and panties and her favorite heeled slippers, sitting on the edge of the bed and biting her nails in eager anticipation for me. She smiled wide when she saw me and spread her legs open while her fingers slipped underneath the thin material of her underwear. With a lusty glint, my daughter played with herself enthusiastically.

Her belly was already bulging. Our third, unborn child showing signs of developing inside of her womb. Rhonda swelled with pride, and she took her free hand and placed it atop her bulging abdomen. 

"I can't believe I'm showing already, Daddy. God, you're such a stud. I think you've put enough cum inside me to impregnate every woman in Nicaragua. My poor ova didn't even stand a chance—especially with how strong your boys swim."

Rhonda was playing directly to my deepest fetish, the willingness to give in to my baser instincts and become a pure animal. Every man is hard-wired with the goal of breeding. We've tamed ourselves and act civil in the face of society, but the beast is just beneath the surface, struggling to break free. Ronnie made it quite clear to me that she not only expected me to fuck her, but that she wanted to waste no time letting that beast out. She wanted babies. My babies, and lots of them.

To my primitive instincts, that was like music to my ears. So what if it was my own daughter I was breeding? All of our children were beautiful, hale and healthy, and I loved every one of them. It was fun being both a Daddy and a Grand-daddy, and I sure as hell had fun making them. Hell, I would never admit this to my wife, but Rhonda had given me some of the best sex of my whole life.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 03



But Rhonda herself was well aware of that fact. Being a doctor, she tended to know exactly how to make my body respond the way she wanted. She had found every erogenous area of my body, knew how to make me rock hard within seconds, and figured out exactly how to push my body to the brink so that I could give her the hardest orgasms imaginable when my sperm flooded her. 

"Daddy? Why are you still clothed?" she cooed. "My pussy is so wet right now, and it's waiting for you." 

 Breathlessly, she added, "I NEED you, Daddy."

"Please Ronnie, we need to talk," I began, trying my best not to alarm her. 

Rhonda slipped her finger, still wet with her own cum, into her mouth and began to suck on it. I could never get over how hot . . . how obscene . . . she looked when she did that.

"Daddy, I don't think you understand. That wasn't just a suggestion. I want your pants off within the next ten seconds and your cock buried between my thighs immediately after that. This is not open for discussion. Like I said, I need you."

Still, I hesitated. What I wanted to say to her was more important than sex. But, then I thought about it: would what I had to say go smoother if I fucked her to satisfaction first? If so, maybe the sex wouldn't be such a bad idea after all . . . 

The more I stood and pondered, the larger the tent in my pants grew. It seemed that, despite my reasonings, my loins were ready to make up my mind for me.

"Daddy?" Rhonda repeated. "Do I need to spell it out for you? Fuck me. NOW."

I couldn't take it anymore. The authority . . . the pure lust in my daughter's voice made me shed my pants on the spot. My excitement only rose as I saw Ronnie watching me strip, her eyes fixated hungrily on my cock the whole time. It was at full attention, ready and eager to enter her pussy, and she licked her lips with anticipation.

In seconds, I had both her feet in my hands as I stood at the edge of her bed, tipping her backward. Her thighs spread apart and her back fell upon the mattress as she waited for me to push my knob inside her. I felt my tip touch the lips of her opening, and it sent a shockwave of lust through me. 

Not for the first time, I reminded myself: this was my daughter's cunt . . . my little girl's pussy . . . that I was about to invade.

"Please, Daddy," she begged, "please put it inside me. I need to feel your cock in my pussy."

That did the trick. Without hesitation, I leaned forward and thrust myself in to the hilt. Ronnie gasped and moaned, and I grunted like a beast. God, she was always so tight. Every time felt exactly like the first time.

"Fuck me, Daddy," she cooed. "Fuck me hard. Please."

I did as she instructed, putting far more energy into every thrust, sinking my cock deeper inside her with each push. I could feel the walls of her moist tunnel clutching my cock lovingly, massaging it. 

Ronnie reached up and took my hand in hers, then slowly placing it upon her swollen belly. 

"Mmmm. Can you feel it there, Daddy? Our love child. You put it there, Daddy. You put it there for me. You gave me a baby to make for you." 

Her words only spurred me to fuck her harder, as she knew they would.

"Annnh! I . . . I'm going to make a beautiful baby for you, Daddy! Y-You'll see! Mmmm! My womb is just for you, Daddy. It's only going to hold your babies!"

Damn, but she knew how to send me over the top. I dug deep and I erupted inside her again, my cum seeping into every part of her womb. I swear to God, if I didn't know that it was anatomically impossible, I would have been certain that I'd given my own unborn child a bath in it. 

"Oh, thank you, Daddy," Rhonda said with great satisfaction. "You have no idea how badly I needed that." 

But now that the moment had passed, and I was thinking with the right head again, I needed to get right back to business.

"Rhonda, we need to talk."

Almost instantly, her expression changed. "About what?"

Her hawkish eyes almost stopped me. Her gaze alone almost made my blood run cold. 

But, I maintained. I remembered why I had come here in the first place.

"I'm here to talk about Eileen."

What happened next seemed positively unreal. Have you ever seen one of those cartoons where a beautiful princess or sexy temptress is revealed as the mean old witch and they do that close-up of her face so that you can see their features turn from drop-dead gorgeous and angelic to frighteningly hideous and evil? 

Well, that's kind of what happened to Ronnie, right at that moment. Her brow furrowed, her teeth clenched, and every muscle in her face tightened until it didn't even seem like it was the same woman. If her eyes had gone red and horn sprout from her forehead, I don't think I would have been any more surprised. Just looking at her, I suddenly knew what it was like to stare into a vortex of pure hate.

Ronnie reached beside her bed and grabbed a glass snowglobe. Screaming like a banshee, she tossed the thing at me with as much force as she could gather. At that range, it was impossible to dodge or defend for a man my age, so the glass object bounced off my forehead with a loud THUD. Pain and dizziness immediately struck as I heard the globe break and shatter somewhere on the floor behind me.

Ronnie pounced forward, and her attack had made me too weak and wobbly to defend myself. I don't know how she managed the strength, but she grabbed me and pulled me onto her bed, climbing atop me instantly.

"You're here because of The Bitch!? You come into my room and spit that worthless harpy's name in my face after you fuck me, Daddy?!!!!" She grabbed my shirt tightly and, still showcasing an ungodly strength that I'd never seen before, tore it open with one swift pull. "NO! I refuse! My bedroom is the one place her name should never be spoken, unless it's as part of a fucking punchline! I thought you understood that, Daddy. After all these years, I thought I'd finally taught you better."

She put my cock right back inside her and began to grind.

"Oh Gooood, yes," she moaned. "Can you feel it all the way inside me, Daddy? God, every time . . . it fits my pussy like a glove. I love feeling you so deep inside me . . .!"

I tried to speak, but what came out of my mouth was only gibberish. Rhonda giggled and placed both of my hands on her breasts. "Feel them, Daddy. They're better than hers. Younger, full of fresh milk for our babies. Not that like those dried up, sagging bags of hers."

Ronnie bucked and rode me for several minutes, screaming and moaning through several orgasms while she fucked me in my semi-conscious state. I wish I could say that this was the first time that this had happened—that this was my first experience with being raped by my own daughter—but no, that wouldn't be true. In fact, this was how everything had started. This was what that first time with Ronnie had been like, almost exactly . . . except the first time, it had been with poison instead of a blow to the head. 

"You don't need her, Daddy," Ronnie continued. "I can do everything for you that she ever did. Better, in fact. You'll see. As long as you do as you're told, I'll take care of you. I'll never betray you. Not like HER . . ."

I was coming out of my daze, but I still couldn't move properly. Ronnie still had me at her complete mercy, and all I could do was lay back and let her take what she wanted. 

I realized now that I had failed my wife yet again. I had come here to fight for her—to argue with Ronnie on her behalf—but I hadn't been strong enough. If I hadn't let her control me . . . if I hadn't given in to my instincts . . . I might not be in this position. I might have been able to stop her. 

The guilt weighed me down with a heavy heart, and I felt tears welling in my eyes.

Ronnie stopped when she saw them.

"What . . .? Why are you crying, Daddy? What's wrong with you?!"

"Nothing Ronnie," I said, defeatedly. "It's nothing."

That only ticked her off more. "You're acting strangely, Daddy. I don't like it. What's gotten into you today?"

"You wouldn't understand," I responded dryly.

"I'm sorry I hit you, Daddy . . . but it was for your own good. You can't bring her name here . . . not into my bed. You understand that, don't you? You understand that you had to be punished for speaking of that . . . that . . . creature in my most sacred place, right?"

"Sure."

My nonchalance finally sent her over the edge. "WHY!?! Why can't I ever get through to you!?! Why can't you see her for what she is?!! She betrayed you! She betrayed both of us! Why don't you see that?!"

I repeated my previous answer. "You wouldn't understand."

"So tell me!!! What does she have that I lack!? I'm younger, smarter, more successful! I please you better than she does . . . you can't deny that! I give you children—more of them than she ever could! And I'll never, ever turn you down any time you want to fuck me! So what is it?! What can she possibly do for you that I can't?! Whatever it is, tell me and I promise I'll do it better than her!"

Finally, I looked Ronnie right in her eye. She looked maddened, insane, but I wasn't afraid. For the first time, I wasn't afraid. I knew there wasn't anything she could do to make me feel lower than I was right at that moment. 

Unflinchingly, I gave her my answer.

"She can love me, Ronnie."

Still atop me, her back straightened as she continued to look me in the eyes. It was hard to read Rhonda's expression after that. Confusion . . . disbelief . . . amusement . . . relief . . . I saw mixtures of all of them. 

Then, suddenly, she broke into an uproar.

"Ha ha ha ha!! Is that all!? 'Love'? That's what you're so worried about, Daddy? 'LOVE'?!" She leaned forward and kissed me. "Oh, Daddy. I love you, too. And more than she ever did." She wiggled her hips, with my cock still inside her pussy. "Can't you feel that, Daddy? Can't you feel how much I love you . . .?"

"No, I can't, Ronnie," I told her flatly. "Like I told you . . . you wouldn't understand."

Immediately, I felt her strike me. Not a slap . . . not a scratch . . . but an actual punch. Ronnie hit me with her fist as hard as she could, making my jaw explode in pain. Combined with the trauma from my earlier injury, for a second, I actually thought I may have been about to die.

"DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I'M AN IDIOT, DADDY!!!" she screamed at me. "I know what 'love' is! I've felt it for you my entire life! I've always known that we were meant to be, you and I. I knew that you were the one I'd bear children for, Daddy. I always have. You're the only man I've ever thought was worthy. And then . . . the day she took you away from me, I knew that she was the only thing that would come between us. That's why she had to be stopped. Or controlled."

Her brow narrowed. "Or destroyed, if it came to that."

Her nails dug deeply into my chest. I could feel them penetrating the flesh, probably piercing enough to draw blood. "Is that what you want, Daddy? For me to destroy her? Because I will. Gladly. I've put up with her all these years for your sake, but the Bitch is starting to become more trouble than she's worth."

A wide, sadistic grin formed from her lips. "I could do it and get away with it, Daddy. You needn't be afraid. No one would ever know the truth, and you and I would be free. I've been holding back, Daddy . . . resisting the urge to throttle the life from her each time I saw her . . . stopping myself from gouging her eyes out with my fingernails . . . but all you have to do is say the word, and we'll be rid of her. Forever."

I caught my breath, gasping hard through the pain. "If you do anything to hurt her, Ronnie, this is over."

She cocked her head toward me. "What?"

"As long as my wife is happy . . . and healthy, I'll do whatever you say. But, if you ever hurt my wife . . . harm her in any way . . . then I'll never be yours again." 

It was funny . . . that simple phrase was what I had originally come here to say. That was all. Finally, in the most roundabout way possible, I had finally gotten around to spitting it out.

I could practically hear Ronnie's teeth grit. "Since when do you give me orders, Daddy?! Have you forgotten how much of your life I could fuck up if I wanted to? How I could ruin you with a ph—"

"Yes, yes, 'with just a phone call'. Blah blah. I've long stopped caring about what you do to me, Ronnie," I answered her. "Go ahead. Kill me. Send me to jail. Frame me for murder or rape or whatever you want to. I don't care anymore. But, you won't hurt Eileen. Or any of the kids . . . whether they're hers or yours. If you do anything to harm them, I'll never be your fuck toy again. I swear it. You'd have to rape me each and every time, and I'd fight you to the very end. And that wouldn't work for long. As much as I would hate to leave my children, I'm half convinced that I'm a failure as a father, anyway. I'd kill myself if it keeps them safe and makes you understand."

Her eyes widened. For the first time in three years, I think I'd finally done something she hadn't expected or planned for.

Still, she remained calmly detached. This was how Ronnie got when she faced a problem: she became cold, calculating. "I could stop you, you know. I could stop you from doing it."

"Only if you had some way of watching me 24/7 and were always within reach. But, how likely is that? I mean, you seem to be able to monitor all of us pretty efficiently, but if I wanted to throw myself off of a bridge, could you stop me? If I tried to drop a toaster in the bathtub, would you be there to catch it every time? Come on, Ronnie. You're a genius . . . but you aren't God."

Now, it was her turn to cry. As her tears dripped on my naked chest, Ronnie sobbed, "Why would you do that to me, Daddy? Just for her!? Do you really love the Bitch who sent you to jail that much more than me?"

I thought for a minute before I answered that. "You see? That proves that you know absolutely nothing about love."

"What . . .?"

"I don't know how much of this will sink in, but let me explain something about love to you, Ronnie. Love is when someone is flawed, inconsiderate, and sometimes downright mean and you still want them to succeed with all your heart. You can't know what it's like to love someone until you can look at them, realize that everything they do hurts you, and still want them to be happy. Do you understand?"

She shook her head without hesitation. "No. That doesn't make sense! How is that 'love'? It just sounds like idiocy!"

That much was the truth, but it was also my reality. Regardless of how much Rhonda had done to me, I still wanted nothing but the best for my little girl. Even if it was in self-defense, I'd never hurt my little girl, my wife, or any of my children. I would never think ill of Ronnie, even if she turned into the next Joseph Stalin or Caligula. No . . . as crazy as it sounded, I would always love Ronnie. Always. 

God help me.

I don't expect for it to make sense, and I don't think anyone who's ever had to struggle between more than one lover to truly understand. It wasn't about who I loved 'more', or who deserved my love more than who. Love isn't about deserving it. And it isn't something that should be fought over. 

After three years of this, I knew that now.

So, I shrugged. "Such is love. I told you that you wouldn't understand. But, I meant what I said, Ronnie. I want Eileen and all of the kids to be well taken care of. If any of them are miserable, or if something bad happens to them, then we are done. Forever." 

Rhonda stared at me with an icy disdain. I could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Plotting, scheming. I had taken a measure of control from her, and she didn't like it. Even as she lay atop me, she was deciphering ways to reestablish her dominance.

But then, she did something completely unexpected. She smiled and nodded.

"Alright, Daddy, you've got it," she told with an otherworldly glee. "From now on, I'll never hurt the Bitch again . . . or any of the children, hers or ours. I'll show her love, Daddy. Just like you want."

What was it about her words that made me so worried?

What was it about that smile that made me want to flee from the room, screaming?

"I'll show you that I can understand love just fine, Daddy. But you just have to promise: when I do what you ask, you'll love me unconditionally, won't you?"

I nodded. "Of course I will, baby."

"And you'll fuck me whenever I want, however I want, right?"

"Yes, Ronnie. So long as you hold up your end."

"Good, Daddy. Now, lay back. I think I socked you pretty hard before, and as your family physician, I must recommend that you rest and let me take care of you . . ."



******



-EILEEN-

I just couldn't understand what Rhonda wanted from me. She called this my 'training', but being trained meant preparation for something. You train a soldier to fight an enemy. You train an employee to do a job. You train a pet to behave. But, if Rhonda wanted me to do any of those things, I just couldn't fathom what strapping me to this chair had to do with anything.

The room was pitch black when I heard the door swing open and her heels clicked on the floor. "I have a nice little surprise for you today. Would you care to guess what it is?"

"I don't know if I want it, Ronnie, whatever it is. This . . . this is making me too uncomfortable. Please, if I must do this . . . can we simply get it over with?"

The dim light from the doorway highlighted Rhonda's smooth, nude figure. From my bound position, her eyes almost seemed to glow with a sinister gleam to them. She smiled at me . . . that same sadistic grin that she always reserved solely for me.

My chest beat rapidly; no part of being bound in a dark room with a nude daughter that hated me bode well for what was to come. I was absolutely terrified. The uncertainty of what was coming made my every hair stand on end and my skin icy to the touch. My chest was heaving with heavy breath as Rhonda reached out and lovingly caressed my chin.

"What's the matter, 'Mommy'? Don't you trust me?" There was a sweet malice to her voice as she mocked me, knowing full well there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop her. "Don't you love me . . . 'Mommy'?"

She paused, as if waiting. It took me a while to figure out that she actually expected me to give her an answer.

"What . . . what do you want from me, Ronnie?"

"Oh. I guess you don't 'understand', either," she told me, as if it were the punchline to some sort of inside joke. "I knew Daddy was wrong about you."

Her words snapped me back to full attention. "D-David . . .? He said something about me?"

She smirked smugly. "Uh-huh. He sure did. In bed. While I fucked him."

She was attempting to rile me up, but that meant nothing anymore. For better or worse, I had grown numb to the reality of their affair. All that I was interested in was that David had said something about me . . . something that Rhonda didn't want to acknowledge.

That gave me hope. 

"W-What did he . . .?"

"He said he loved me, Mommy. He said that no matter what I did to him, no matter how naughty I was, he would always love me." Her smirk widened. "That's what we have, Daddy and me. That's what you'll never take away from us."

There was something wrong with what Ronnie was saying. Something just didn't fit. She was lying somehow . . . but whether directly or through omission I didn't know. She was trying to throw David's words in my face, but there was something different about the way she was acting today. It was like she had a point to prove.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 04



Greetings, readers. First an apology.

Sorry I've been away for so long. I've been working on other writing projects (trying to turn my long-unfinished novel into a FINISHED novel) and issues with my personal life have kept me busy. That doesn't mean I have given up on you or that I'm abandoning Literotica. I love you guys, and I would never do that. You can count on me to continue writing by hook or by crook.

Now for my new readers: this is the third installment of my Daddy's Little Psychopath series. Chapter One can be found here, Chapter Two can be found here and Chapter Three can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, mother-daughter incest, rough sex, reluctance, and blackmail. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

Please, please, please leave a comment below. I can't stress enough how much feedback helps me write.

***

Addendum to editors: This story does not contain any scenes of explicit sex with characters under the legal age of consent (18).

******

I let Daddy pour all of rich, creamy seed into me while I held him close and breathed into his ear, both of our bodies slick and glistened with sweat. He always felt deliciously warm after spending all of energy to seed me. The scent of our combined sex hit me already; the incestuous cocktail between my legs, oozing from my cunt even as my father's cock stay lodged within.

I licked his ear, a sign of appreciation for demonstrating how much he loved me. Then, my eyes fell upon the mirror in front. I gazed at myself, conjoined with my father on the countertop of tiny room, my legs spread wide for him, his ass thrust deeply between them, and my hair ragged and chaotic like a freshly-fucked whore.

I preserved it to my memory. My near-perfect, eidetic memory. The best part about being a genius wasn't just being smarter than everyone else or getting people to do anything I wanted—it was the fact that I could recall moments like this in almost flawless detail. To date, I still had the memory of the first time I fucked my father tucked away in my special place. He was helpless in bed, paralyzed by the virus I'd poisoned him with; I forced him to empty his balls into my cunt even though he was delirious with a fever. It was amazing.

But this image was even more special. As always, the sex was fantastic, and Daddy had become well-trained at pleasuring me. But, the true excitement came from gazing into our reflection, knowing that if I could see this image . . . then so could The Bitch.

She was there. On the other side of the "mirror", watching us. Everything I could see in the glass before me, she could see from the next room. She could see her husband pumping his semen into my cunt. She could hear him crying out with greater joy than she could ever give him. Yes, that's exactly what 'she' would see.

My 'mother'.

I hated to even use that word to describe her. She wasn't a mother; she was proof that genetics have a sense of humor. The only reason any competent God would have created her was so that she could give birth to her far superior replacement: me. But that was also the very reason why I am an atheist; that same God should have been smart enough to know that the world would be a better place if only she'd died in childbirth.

"Ooooo, thank you for fucking me, Daddy," I whispered into his ear just before I kissed his soft and masculine lips. He responded in kind, and we shared time exploring one-anothers' mouths as his hands roamed everywhere. My skin was always extra sensitive post-coitus, and he took full advantage. He seemed proud, confident, his male ego reassured when his daughter thanked him for plowing her tight pussy. I had Daddy wrapped around my finger, and I wanted her to see it.

Eventually, Daddy went limp and pulled out. I stayed in my spread position, reclined on the counter like a wanton slut. I pushed a finger into my pussy to coax as much of his cum out of me as possible. I wanted her to see that too. Her spouse's cum pouring out of me, just in case she had forgotten in the past couple seconds.

Hey, she's a moron. They do things like that.

*****

After Daddy left, I floated from the counter and exited myself. I went the opposite way we come, and wound up in the dark, empty room where The Bitch was. I clicked the light switch and brought the room to full illumination.

"How did you like the show?" I asked her, probing for a response. "How did you like seeing your husband fucking me so handsomely?"

She panted and swallowed. "I . . . I . . ."

I smiled. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, God . . ." she sobbed. Good. The aphrodisiac was doing its job. Contrary to myth, they don't work like magic love potions, making someone immediately fall head-over-heels. It takes time. Back when I was eighteen, I began wearing my own chemical mix of pollen, vanilla extract, and my own cum. Whenever I was near Daddy, I would let him get a good whiff even as I bombarded him from all sides with seduction. It took a long time to get him to become instantly hard in my presence, but the wait was worth it.

The concoction I used for the bitch was different, but her reaction was much quicker. Quicker than even I expected.

I slowly unfastened her restraints, allowing her to move as she wished. She remained still, trying to catch her breath. Trying to make sense of the mixture of emotion that must have been flooding through her.

She still needed a little . . . guidance. So once her binds were released, my pussy parked right next to her face as she turned toward me with wide eyes.

"It's intoxicating, isn't it?" I asked her. "The cream Daddy pumped into me makes such a delightful mixture with my own cum, doesn't it? Doesn't it look and smell so inviting?"

She swallowed deeply as she watched it oozing from between my legs. She didn't provide an answer.

"Go on," I spoke to her like an infant. "Taste it if you want. It's alright."

I could tell that she was confused. Did she really want to do this? Would this make me happy? I simply held my cunt open and waited, meeting her eyes with an expectant stare.

When her hand reached for my pussy, I smacked it away. "No, no. Use your tongue only. Come on, 'Mommy-dearest'. Get a good tasting of Daddy and me's 'special recipe'."

She hesitated and looked up at me. I only gazed at her expectantly. I didn't waiver my eye contact. I was in control, and she knew it.

She leaned forward and poked her tongue out, gently touching the folds of my pussy, where the gooey gobs of Daddy's cream were still oozing out. I felt her wet tongue tickling my moist flesh, and I moaned without realizing.

I grasped the top of her head tightly and trusted it her face into my sex. I held her in place, with no chance to escape. I pushed my hips forward to meet her lips.

My mother began lapping at my pussy, gobbling up all of the cum Daddy had dumped into me—tasting for herself how good his juice was when mixed with mine.

My free hand roamed across my naked front, drifting from my swollen, milk-laden breasts and the bulbous belly which held my Daddy's baby. I saw her eyes glance up to notice it once, and she immediately invoked a shiver. She moaned softly as I pushed her mouth deeper into my cunt.

She'd just realized that the exact concoction she was eating was exactly what had created the grandchild in my belly. The thought of it made her cum instantly.

"Alright, you can stop now," I told her, pushing her away. I made sure to separate her from me right at the cusp of her orgasm, and just for a moment, I saw her glance at me with disappointment.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, 'Mommy'," I said to her, stepping away. "I wanted to you to fully appreciate where your place in this family was going to be from now on. I wanted to see it with your own eyes."

Her eyes filled with tears as I left her with those words. I wasn't quite sure what part of her that statement had cut the most, but it really didn't matter. Seeing the The Bitch on the floor, utterly broken, with her face dribbling the cum her husband had left in my pussy . . .

. . . The feeling made me cum again.

******

I didn't do anything too sinister for the next few days. Mostly, I would just lightly brush my arms or fingers across Daddy's chest, buttocks or shoulder when I passed him, and note the look in The Bitch's face as she watched him react to it. I wanted her to know that I owned him, just like I now owned everyone and everything else in this house. I could make him dance at my whims, and there was nothing she could do about it. Every now and again, I even called to Daddy from another room and beckoned him to me, making him jump to me like a puppy as I whisked him into our special place.

I knew I was skirting the "rules" of our little game—threatening to let Daddy on that I knew his secret. But, I didn't care. The look of defeat in her eyes was well worth it.

I didn't even talk to the bitch directly again until several days afterward.

I handed her a list. "Here you go, Bitch. Read it."

She took the note from me and glanced at the names and phone numbers upon it. Of course, she didn't understand what it was for.

"W-What is this?" she asked me.

"Those are 'friends' of mine that you and Daddy are going to begin fucking."

Her eyes nearly popped from her skull. "T-There's at least twenty names here!"

"That's right, and you're going to fuck them all within the next month. You'll have to schedule for later in the evening, though. They won't be available to play until school lets out."

Her eyes snapped to me. "School!? Ronnie, how old are some of these—"

"Pay attention. I'm talking. Your question is irrelevant, anyway. You and Daddy are going to fuck them. Period."

I licked my lips. "Besides, all of them are just aching to fuck Daddy. You know how teen girls love older, distinguished men, don't you? I've chatted with each of them online, shown them Daddy's picture, and they're quite eager to bed him. Didn't you know what a catch your husband was? You must be aware that if you had been out of the picture, Daddy would have gotten all the young pussy he could ever want. Personally, I don't think he'd mind.

"But this won't be a one-man show, I'm afraid. Some of them were upset when I told them that a sag-chested hag like you was part of the package deal, but they'd do anything to get a man like Daddy to fuck them.

"Also, the deal was no condoms. They hate them. So, you're going to make good use of that little 'lesson' I gave you the other day, and you are going to lick the cum all of their pussies after Daddy finishes inside. I gave a glowing review of how good at it you were, and this was the only way we could come to terms."

I could tell that she was upset, and God it made me so horny. If Daddy had been around, I would have fucked him in front of her right then. As it was, I couldn't help myself and started fingering myself while I looked at the anguish on her face.

"You . . . you want me to just whore out my husband?" she asked me.

In truth, my original plan had been to whore out both of them, separately. It was all part of our little game. At first, I was going to have an entire varsity football team take turns on her, but Daddy had gone and made that stupid threat. He told me not to 'harm' her or make her 'unhappy'. 'Unhappy?!' Hmph. I bet a whore like her would have come to like being gangraped; by the time every boy had his turn, she would've been begging them for more.

But I couldn't risk it now. I needed to make baby steps. My plans had changed so that I could play the game without breaking her.

In truth, it wouldn't be that difficult. And, actually, I was beginning to like this game better than the original one I had planned. It required more ingenuity—more finesse. But it still sucked.

I wanted to make this bitch suffer.

"As I recall, you immensely enjoyed the last time I arranged a threesome for the two of you," I responded, continuing to finger my clit. "In fact, you enjoyed watching your husband pounding that young girl's pussy, and just as you did with he and I the other day."

She swallowed. The reaction in her eyes was so predicable She was accepting the logic I fed to her.

It made me even wetter. God, the way someone's face changes when they know they're beaten . . .

I pulled the puppet's strings a little more. "If you would like to, you can suck my clit right now until I come."

Her eyes snapped to me. She knew how much I hated her; how unclean I thought she was, body and soul. I hated the thought of being near her stench, of being near the air she polluted with her presence. But, this was a special exception. When she suffers . . . when she realizes how pathetic she is, she's beautiful to me. And I without Daddy's cock nearby, I needed something to take care of my insatiable lust.

But the beauty of it was that I'd given her a choice.

Step Two of Stockholm's Syndrome: when held captive by someone they fear, the hostage will do anything to make their captors see them as valuable. In their subconscious, they think it humanizes them in the captor's eyes. . . makes them harder to hurt if things turn for the worst.

She wasn't able to help herself. Ha. So gullible, like most idiots. People are sheep, waiting to be led either to the pasture or the slaughterhouse by their superior. I knew what her choice would be before even she did, and as I watched her fall to her knees and lean her head between my legs, my arousal only doubled.

"Come on, now. Lick your baby girl's juicy cunt."

******

-DAVID-

I didn't know what Rhonda was planning anymore. I didn't have a clue in hell what her game was, but . . . God help me, I was starting not to care. I didn't think it was possible, but my sex drive had gotten even higher ever since I let Eileen in on our dirty little secret. Maybe Rhonda suspected that Eileen knows the truth and this was her way of reestablishing control . . . I had no idea. All I knew is that I'd never enjoyed so much pussy in my entire life, and I didn't know if I could stop if I wanted to.

Rhonda let me know that she would be "renting" my cock out. The way she explained it, there were a number of co-ed friends that would require fair payment for a few favors. Somehow, she convinced most of them that making use of my cock would square them, and the girls agreed. I didn't know how Rhonda pulled that off, and to be honest, it really didn't matter. All I knew was that for months, I got visit after visit from a long line of gorgeous teens who craved my cock.

Once again, the deal was that I needed to convince Eileen to participate. Unknown to Rhonda, I let my wife know right away that this was one of our daughter's schemes, but she didn't seem to pay that any heed. For whatever reason, Eileen was even more eager to go through with our group "activites" this time than before. If I didn't know any better, I could almost swear that Eileen had grown to love the taste of clit and the touch of another woman. God, I wanted that to be the case. It would kill me to think that she was doing this solely for my sake.

I dared not ask, though. I'd grown way too accustomed to my situation, for better or worse. Sex was like a drug for me now, and I was willing to shut up and do whatever Rhonda wanted me to, so long as I got more and more of it.

To my astonishment, Rhonda didn't show an ounce of jealousy regarding the other girls. They were younger than Ronnie, and some of them had larger busts, tighter asses, and fitter bodies. There were even a few exotic hotties here and there. I fucked at least three black co-eds, one Chinese, and one girl from Saudi Arabian. The latter one, incidentally, became my favorite out of the bunch. I had never known that a Middle Eastern woman could be such a whore. I'd always thought that it was against their religion or something. But this girl would do anything for my cock.

Rhonda didn't mind at all, and sometimes, I would even fuck her while she replayed some of my other sessions. It would turn us both on to watch me pump into some tight teen cunt for nearly half an hour and then empty my balls inside her. More than once, I would cum simultaneously both on the screen and inside my daughter's pussy. Rhonda screamed through an orgasm every time I did it, and I tended to lose every ounce of control.

This went on for months. Don't ask me how I managed to find the stamina to fuck a plethora of young girls, my daughter, and my wife just about every day. I have no idea how. But somehow, I did.

One day, I was fucking Rhonda from behind while she fast-forwarded through a video of myself, Eileen and Katy (the Arab girl). If I recall right, this was either the third or fourth time we had met with Katy, and one of the more intense sessions. While I fucked Katy on her hands and knees, she was screaming as my cock slid in and out of her eighteen-year-old pussy. She never shut up during the entire fucking, and it took Eileen sticking a nipple in her mouth to deafen the noise.

Whenever her mouth was free, Katy would be in tears, sobbing how much she loved my cock. How she couldn't believe how good I was. She told me that she would do anything for my cock. She would cook for me. She would clean for me. She'd quit school and have my babies.

God, how that turned me on. Do you have any idea what it does to a forty-something to hear a teen girl scream her love for his cock? To say that she'd be willing to throw her whole future away to have his babies?

As I watched it onscreen, I unconsciously reached down and scooped a hand under Rhonda's belly. By this time, Rhonda was more than seven months showing, but she looked closer to nine months. We'd found out, you see, that she was going to have triplets—a first for our family. Just hearing another woman screaming for me to impregnate her made me appreciative of the buns I already had growing in my daughter's oven. Rhonda still looked obscenely sexy as her belly widened with our children.

But, as she watched me fuck Katy on the television, Ronnie seemed transfixed by something.

"Mmmm, Daddy . . ." she purred, "you really did conquer that poor girl, didn't you?"

I only grunted my answer, too busy thrusting my hips hard into Ronnie's ass to be intelligible.

"I should be jealous, you know," she told me with a gasp, wriggling her pussy muscles so that they gripped my cock as tightly as a set of fingers. "You fuck her different than you fuck me." She forced me to slow my stride, but I responded by making the in-strokes harder than ever. Rhonda grunted her pleasure and I felt her heeled slippers rise to rub against my inner thigh.

But I didn't know how to respond. Rhonda sounded upset, but her actions were loving . . . affectionate. That was always the problem with Ronnie . . . her mood swings were too unpredictable. Saying the wrong thing right now would tick her off , and who knew what she'd do afterwards.

"What . . . what would you like me to do, Ronnie?" I asked pleadingly.

She chuckled. "Nothing, Daddy. I'm not upset. " She turned to face me and caressed my face as I continued to fuck her. "You can do with that slut whatever you want. I don't mind."




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 04



Hearing her say that shocked me. Hearing her call the other girl that made me even harder. My hands rose to her breasts and I squeezed them hard, mauling them with my powerful fingers, driven by insane lust. I fondled my own daughter's tits, as I'd been doing for well over three years now, and embraced the intoxicating feeling it gave me.

"Do you want to get her pregnant, too, Daddy?" she cooed.

Again, I didn't know how to respond. She noticed my reluctance and smiled.

"Daddy, I told you it's okay. You can do anything to her that you want. Her, and any of those other girls. I got them for you, Daddy. They're my gift to you."

I couldn't believe what she was saying. It made me pause from fucking her, just for a moment.

"Ronnie," I asked, "why would you do that? I . . . don't you want me to yourself?"

She just chuckled at that. "You still don't understand, Daddy? I told you before . . . I'm the only one who knows how to make you happy. I'm the only one who truly loves you. You may think The Bitch loves you, because she's loyal. But any dumb dog can be loyal. At one point, I thought about testing that loyalty by getting her high on ecstasy and then letting a bunch of young studs rape her."

Her words caused a huge lump in my throat. I half-hoped that Ronnie was kidding, but I knew better than that. Ronnie never kidded. If she said she'd planned to do that, then she'd honestly considered it. I didn't even want to know how far in the execution phases she'd gotten.

"Relax, Daddy," she told me. "You made it quite clear to me that The Bitch was off-limits. And oh, how I HATED you for that."

Her voice became menacing, just for a moment. It was as if those past feelings had completely resurfaced just from an off-mention. I thought Ronnie would attack me again.

But then, she said: "It occurred to me, though . . . why do you claim to love her even though you clearly fuck me with such vigor?" Her hand reached down to give my still-stiff cock a squeeze. "And I figured it out. You're just a pervert, that's all. My Daddy is just a dirty, horny pervy. You want to have your cake and eat it, too."

"What?"

"You don't really 'love' The Bitch, you know. You just like having her. You just like knowing that her pussy is there for you to fuck whenever you want it."

I swallowed and tried to answer, but she cut me off.

"Think about it, Daddy. When I let you fuck my first friend that time, you jumped at the chance. You wanted it. You fucked that little skank like your life depended on it, and if The Bitch hadn't made you use protection, you would have loved to have soaked her pussy with your seed, wouldn't you?"

I was shivering, practically salivating at the thought. Ronnie noticed and smiled.

"And yet, when The Bitch asked for her turn . . . when she asked to bring another man into your bed . . . you were furious, weren't you? It was like someone had wedged a hot poker right into your gut."

I remembered those exact feelings. Ronnie was absolutely right about it. When Eileen had even inquired about fucking another man, I felt like a hypocrite, but it made me want to vomit. I felt like Eileen was mine. Her lips, her beautiful breasts, and her aging body . . . I would never let another man have them.

It was that realization which had made me confess the truth to her about Ronnie. I couldn't handle feeling like a hypocrite.

"It's okay, Daddy. There's nothing wrong with being a pervert, you know. If you weren't, you wouldn't be where you are now. If you weren't a pervert, you wouldn't be fucking so many horny teenage girls on a regular basis.

"If you weren't a pervert, you wouldn't love fucking your own daughter as much as you do."

"Please, Ronnie . . .don't . . ."

Finally, she got to her point. "Mom means nothing to you," she told me, calling Eileen 'Mom' for the first time that I could remember. "She's just another pussy for you to enjoy. Just flesh for you to use to your heart's content."

Again, her words stopped me. "That's . . . that's not true, Ronnie!"

She tilted her head slyly. "Oh? So if I gave you a choice to stop fucking me, right now? Would you take that offer?"

I swallowed. She couldn't mean that! Not Ronnie. Not my little sociopathic princess.

It had to be some sort of trick. Ronnie wouldn't let this just end.

"I told you years ago that what I wanted from you was more children than you gave The Bitch," she said. "You gave her four." She placed a hand on her belly. "And now, you've given me five, including the ones in here. I've fulfilled my purpose for you, Daddy. I've undone the mistakes she birth into this world by offsetting them with a greater good."

Was she actually telling the truth? I remembered her saying that, shortly after our first child had been born, but I never thought she was telling the truth. Ever since then, she had always said she'd never give me up. That she would never let Eileen have me to herself again. So which was the truth? Which was what Ronnie truly wanted?

As the gears in my mind shifted, Ronnie smiled yet again.

"I'm giving you a chance, Daddy," she said, her fingers still wrapped around my throbbing shaft, coaxing subtle amounts of pre-cum onto her fingertips. "Which would you rather like? To have your life back the way it once was, or to continue using this fabulous cock to make as many beautiful babies inside me as possible?"

There was a storm in my head. My thoughts were moving a thousand miles per second, but going around and around to nowhere. Ronnie sounded so sincere . . .so honest . . . but, I'd been fooled by her before. There was no honest way to know whether this was the truth or another trick.

But if she was telling the truth . . . this could be it! I could have my life back! I could once again belong to Eileen and no one else! I could love my wife again the way I used to.

And the only thing it would cost me was the best sex of my entire damned life.

Ronnie just stayed where she was, bent over, with her round and sweaty ass pointed right at me, her pussy still gaped open from the pounding I'd given her minutes ago. In the meantime, she pressed the Play button on her remote again, and I watched myself fucking Katy once again. I heard Katy promising to be my slave. To be my whore. To do whatever I asked her to do, whenever I asked her to do it.

I didn't even notice that Ronnie's hand was still squeezing my cock, still coaxing it gently. I didn't notice it as I watched my past self roar and explode into Katy's pussy. All I knew was that my mind was made up at precisely that moment.

My hands immediately went onto Ronnie's ass cheeks as I pushed back into her. I drove as deep as I could in one stroke, claiming her hole as mine once again. Rhonda gasped and purred her satisfaction, letting my cock go as her hand slipped down to lovingly caress my balls, making them swell to the brim with my waiting seed.

I don't know what came over me right at that moment. As I began to stroke my cock in and out of my daughter's moist cunt, I suddenly felt possessed by something primitive and fierce.

How dare she suggest I give this up!? How dare she claim to be letting me lose!?

"Oh, oh God, Daddy!" she moaned. "Yes! Fuck me like that! Fuck my pussy hard! Cum in me, Daddy! Cum in your daughter's pussy!"

Her demands only spurred my emotions. "You're damn right I will, you little whore. You think I'm done with a perfectly good body like yours?! You think I'm done breeding this body?!"

Ronnie hollered out as she collapsed on the bed, screaming while her pussy flooded. I was mercilessly pounding away now. I didn't care if I hurt her. I didn't care if my cock was going all the way into her cervix.

I punched into her again and again until my cum flooded her womb. I didn't care that she was already pregnant. I imagined my seed searching for more eggs to fertilize. More babies to make. I wasn't going to be satisfied with just five.

The hell with that, I wasn't going to be satisfied with the nine I already had!

To my amazement, I kept fucking even though I'd just emptied my balls. "You want me to knock up your whore friend?!" I asked her. I spanked her ass when she didn't reply and she immediately yelped an answer.

"Yes! I want you to make that little whore pregnant! I want you to treat her just like a filthy skank, Daddy!"

"She's nothing to me, you know that, don't you?" I said. "Her cunt is warm and tight, and she's good material to impregnate. But that's all. She's just a thing."

"Oh God yes, Daddy!" she screamed. "What about the others?! What are they, Daddy?!"

"They're all playthings to me!" I yelled again, pushing down deep as I pounded my little girl's ass atop the bed. "I don't care about any of them!"

Ronnie cooed once again, licking her lips in ecstasy. "Knock those bitches up, too, Daddy! Show them that you're a stud!"

We were both getting into a rhythm now. What I fed to her, she gave back and vice-versa. For the next ten minutes, I promised to impregnate all of her girlfriends. I promised to treat them like dirt. I promised to turn them into slobbering, brainless sluts whose only purpose was to hunger for cock.

And then, I said something I didn't intend to. Something that just . . . slipped out.

"And your mother, too. She's just a whore like them. She means nothing to me!"

Ronnie immediately turned to look at me. I had never seen that look in her eyes before.

". . . Say that again, Daddy."

I didn't hestitate. "She means nothing to me."

She licked her lips. "Who doesn't, Daddy?"

"The Bitch," I responded without thought. "The Bitch doesn't mean anything to me. She's just another toy for me to play with until I get tired of her."

"Ooooooh!" Ronnie sighed. "Cum inside me now, Daddy! Please! Cum inside me and tell me again!"

I did exactly what she told me, I welcomed it. I needed to release.

"That fucking slut I married doesn't deserve my cock," I said to Ronnie. "She's inferior to you in every way. Inferior to all the other sluts I fuck, too. She doesn't deserve to lick my juices clean from your cunts, but that's all she's good for! That's all she—NNGH!"

I screamed out and pushed as far into Ronnie as I could, my body shaking as a wave of pleasure took me. I sent jet after jet of baby juice into her tunnel, and I felt her pussy try to squeeze every drop from me.

I couldn't believe how good that felt. How wonderful it was.

I knew then that I'd made the right choice.

******

-RHONDA-

It only took three goddamn years and more time, money and effort than I would have liked, but I finally have Daddy where I want him.

Admittedly, my plan worked even better than I hoped it would. I honestly never expected that The Bitch would be so easy to manipulate with my Stockholm plan. I had been trying to work it on Daddy for years, but it never seemed to stick. He always resisted me and I could never figure out how to break his last ounce of will. It was maddening, and I had almost given up hope.

Until luck finally found it course.

Daddy had been right the day that he'd warned her about my plans: The Bitch was the key. He'd told her that my biggest weakness was how much I hated her. He tried to save her by helping her slip away before I could notice she was gone. Fortunately, I lucked out and found out about his little scheme before it happened. Still, what Daddy had told the bitch stuck with me, and it made me reconsider my plans.

Until then, I had been satisfied with merely fucking Daddy behind her back while we both pretended to be a happy family. I got so much pleasure smiling in her face, calling her "Mommy", and pretending to like the harlot while I knew that I would be fucking her husband before the day was out. The feeling I got from that was second only to the actual fucking Daddy gave me.

I was worried that I would be losing that side of things after Daddy squealed, and things seemed even bleaker when Daddy made his ultimatum. If I couldn't rub my superiority in her nose, then I wanted to make her suffer. But Daddy had made me promise not to do so. I could have ignored him, of course, and done it without his knowledge, but it was too much of a risk. I'd become just as addicted to Daddy as he's become to me. If I could, I would nuke the entire world before I'd ever give up fucking him.

But now, things were right back on track, and all I had to do is keep both of my pawns on the proper course.

******

ONE YEAR LATER

I was sitting in my lab, reviewing notes that the hospital had sent on a new virus that was sweeping through Detroit. I read through the reports, already isolating what sort of contagion it could be, but unless I could get my hands on a sample, I had no way of knowing how it could be cured.

It seemed to have possibilities, though, in case I ever needed to put Daddy or The Bitch back in line again.

But then, my smart phone vibrated. I reached for it and noticed that the message was from my automated security bot. I had plenty of bugs and wire taps hidden over every inch of the house, the surrounding property, and even in several places Daddy and The Bitch frequented, like their offices, their cars, and others. The bugs were cheap and easy to make with the right materials, and were small enough to be disguised as a shirt button, a cufflink, earrings, or anything else I chose. Technology really gets better all the time.

But that's especially true when you're a prodigy like I am. I developed a nifty little system by networking the surveillance bugs, my home computers, and my mobile apps. I won't bore you with technical details, but the way it worked was that when anyone—whether Daddy or The Bitch or anyone within earshot of the bug—said certain words, I instantly got a feed of whatever was said both afterward and up to a minute before the word was spoken!

How cool is that, huh?

So when I checked the feed, I noticed that several of my "alert words" had been tripped: "Rhonda", "blackmail", "bugs", "police", and "confess". I frowned the moment I saw that combination and clicked on the full conversation window.

"Mrs. Scott?"

"Yes . . .? My name is Burt Lowrey. I'm a detective."

"T-The police?"

"No ma'am. I'm private investigator, hired by an interested party. I was hoping to speak to you about your daughter, Rhonda."

To Be Continued . . .



Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 05



Like I said last time, you guys can count on me to continue writing by hook or by crook.

Unfortunately, all of my previous data got erased when my old computer died, which—combined with a new job—slowed down my ability to write. But like I said, I'm determined to finish this story for you all, so after much toil, here's the fifth chapter of Daddy's Little Psychopath

Now for my new readers: this is the third installment of my Daddy's Little Psychopath series. Chapter One can be found here, Chapter Two can be found here, Chapter Three can be found here and Chapter Four can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, mother-daughter incest, rough sex, reluctance, and blackmail. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

Please, please, please leave a comment below. I can't stress enough how much feedback helps me write.

***

Addendum to editors: This story does not contain any scenes of explicit sex with characters under the legal age of consent (18).

******

-EILEEN-

In the past few weeks, David had begun to use the pool continuously. Almost overnight, he suddenly had a use for it, and our poolside had sprung to life once again after years of neglect. Except this time, David wasn't alone. It wasn't Ronnie that was joining him, either . . . it was . . . those other women.

Young girls, one after another. David began inviting them to our home and treating them to dips in our pool. For years, he'd been procrastinating to figure out how to make the Jacuzzi feature work, but he got it up and running in only a day just so that he could get those other floozies to come and take their tops off for him. First every other night, then practically every, David shared the pool with some hot young thing, and sometimes even two or three. One night, I came home from a late night at work to find David sitting out in the Jacuzzi with a redhead on one arm, a blonde in another, and that Katy girl sitting atop David's lap while facing him. I couldn't see anything below the surface of the water, but the look on David's face told me that his cock was inside her, and she was fucking him something good.

One of the other girls licked and nibbled on David's ear while the other stroked her hands all over his chest. It was obvious that my husband was in pure bliss, as he couldn't even keep his eyes focused. Katy's eyes were locked on his, and she often leaned forward to kiss him on the lips while she gently ground her hips into his. Her body was sparkling and wet from the water and lights of the Jacuzzi, and her tits were dripping with steam and sweat. David sat back and let his three lovers do all of the work, while he simply enjoyed himself like a king on his throne.

Eventually, I heard David cry out, "Oh shit! Oh shit! Almost there!"

Katy's chest began heaving and she fucked him faster, placing her hands on his shoulders while she bucked on top of him like a cowgirl.

"Please, David! Cum inside me! I need your hot cum in me, please! I need it so bad!"

The two continued fucking for at least another three minutes until David began grunting in earnest. I saw his expression lock, and he looked passionately into Katy's eyes as they both did what I assume was a mutual orgasm. I saw their gazes remain transfixed while David came off his high enough to realize that I was standing just inside the house, looking out into the patio. David's eyes looked right at me, and he didn't flinch, waiver, or show a hint of regret or hesitation. He stared at me with the eyes of a lion.

It was at that time that I realized I hadn't yet even taken off my coat or dropped my shopping bags. I had been so engaged in what was going on outside that I didn't even remember what I was supposed to be doing inside.

Eventually, Katy rose, her naked ass coming above the water's surface just for a moment as she lifted herself away from David's cock. David's attention went from me to her again, and I watched as she gently pulled both of her arms until she went down on her knees. Then, David's hand touched the top of her head and pushed it under the surface, keeping her held underwater right below my husband's legs. David's eyes glazed over once more, and I knew that Katy was deeply sucking his throat, even while his strong hand kept her submerged.

She was down there for some time, and I started to worry. By reflex, I watched her head attempt to rise at least twice, but David kept her down there. He forced her to keep his plugged in her mouth and under the water. My concern only grew when her attempts to rise were thwarted three extra times, but David finally let her up the fourth time.

Katy burst from the water hastily, choking desperately and clamoring for breath. I thought she would be furious, or at least upset, but she threw herself back into my husband's arms yet again and their tongues slithered together lustfully.

"So . . . INTENSE . . ." she gasped. "Makes me . . . cum every time!"

David smiled at her and then turned his attention to one of the other girls. "Come on, now, she's got me hard again."

The redhead's grin went from ear to ear as she rose to set herself upon my husband's lap . . . and it all began again.

You may be wondering how all of this made me feel. After all, my husband had just brazenly fucked some teenage slut in our pool and manhandled her without giving a care to me. But, the truth was, I didn't know how to feel about it. On the one-hand, I was used to David's extra-marital capers. It had been a few months after I'd discovered that he'd begun an affair without own daughter, but I'd also learned that it wasn't largely his fault. Ronnie, as it turned out, was a vengeful and manipulative bitch who'd been scheming to take my husband away from me for years, and she had finally succeeded . . . sexually, at least.

But David had still loved me. He and I were trapped under Rhonda's rule, but we still had each other. He never stopped making love to me, or holding me in his arms, or making me feel like I was the woman he'd married. At least, at first.

In the past weeks, David had suddenly changed. I had no idea what had caused it, but I was sure Ronnie was behind it at least partly. Ronnie was behind everything. I don't know what she did or said to him, but David had become almost a different person overnight. I had always known that David reluctantly enjoyed having sex with Rhonda . . . after all, our daughter grew into a gorgeous, sexy woman, so why wouldn't he . . . but as of late, the "reluctant" part had ended. Now, David fucked Rhonda, and any other woman that opened her legs for him, with utter abandon.

Twice in the past week, I had come home to find that David had taken the day off work. I knew this because the moment I opened the door, I could hear the sounds of fucking coming from out bedroom. Rhonda and I had a little . . . agreement, and she usually didn't like to fuck David in our bed—she said the smell of my body disgusted her.

But that day, it wasn't Rhonda I found in our bed, but Sera, one of the coeds that Rhonda had arranged to be David's "servicers". When I walked into the room, David was mounted between Sera's legs, rutting away like a man possessed, making our bed creak and moan with each driving thrust as he relentless pounded the girl's pussy. Sera's long, shapely chocolate legs were spread wide apart, giving my husband ample access as he drilled into her tight cunt. Well, I'm assuming she was tight, anyway . . . David's cock is impressively thick.

Sera's mouth was wide open, and all that escaped it were cries of joy and ecstasy. It was clear that David was putting everything Rhonda had taught him about fucking to work as she slammed every inch of her pussy and kept her on the heights of ecstasy. If I had to use my womanly empathy to guess how many times Sera came then, I would put it somewhere between six and seven . . . and that was only after I'd walked into the room. Who knew how long the two of them had been at it before I arrived.

As I had so many times in the past, I found myself mesmerized. I'd been privy to threesomes with David before, but he was always much more base and animalistic when he fucked someone without me around. It sounds weird of me to say this, but I had almost begun to prefer watching David fuck someone than taking part of it myself, because I felt like David really let himself go when that happened. In the past few weeks, I had learned that watching my husband give pleasure was usually better than receiving it from him myself.

David fucked Sera without either noticing me for another twenty minutes and she came several times afterward until David finally let himself go, and came deep inside her pussy. David never wore condoms anymore, even though he had for the first few threesomes we'd had together. Now, whenever I saw him fuck someone else, it was always bare, and he always, always finished in either their ass or pussy.

I wondered whether or not he was trying to get these girls pregnant. I couldn't imagine why—we already had five children running around the house, without even counting the triplets that David had put into our daughter.

But that was only the beginning of the change, before the true depths of his transformation could be felt. I finally realized how much of a different man my husband was one day while I was out in the garage doing some cleaning. I'd woken up pretty horny that morning, after hearing David and Ronnie fucking half the night, but when I woke up in the morning and looked for him, I entered Ronnie's wing of the house and heard Ronnie giving the soundproof walls a true run for their money. So, I left the two of them at it and decided to work off my energy in a productive way.

I was about an hour into the task when I was carrying a box of garbage to the front of the garage, where the workers know to pick it up. The box was way more than I should have even tried to handle, and I accidentally fumbled it before I got there. With a frustrated groan, I stopped and bent myself over to begin collecting things. I was about halfway finished when I felt something bump into me from behind.

I turned in fright, and found David standing right behind me, with his hands on my hips.

"David! Where did you c—"

"Shut up and keep your voice down," he told me. "Unless, of course, you want to attract attention . . . "

I started to ask what he was talking about, but then I felt his hands tightly grip the hem of my spandex pants, followed by a loud rip.

"David! What do you think you're—"

Before I could say another word, David had his pants pushed down and his cock had entered me from behind. There we were, right in the back of our home while my husband thrust himself deep into me and began to fuck me. I could barely even think straight for several seconds until my mind settled down from the initial orgasm.

"David . . . ugn . . . " I moaned, still attempting to draw some breath. "What in the world is this?"

"This, my dear, is the way it will be from now on," David began, his hands gripping my hips tighter as he continued to pound into me. "I'm just giving you a taste."

My knees almost buckled. David had to hold me steady while he continued to bang me in my hunched-over position.

"From now on, your job is to give me this pussy . . . or anything else that I want . . . whenever I want it . . . with no questions asked. Is that clear?"

"David, I—"

"IS. THAT. CLEAR?"

Our home was in a tightly secluded area, but there were still people who came to the nearby parks and hillsides for recreation or wildlife observation. On top of that, this was the season when all the bird watchers liked to come out to find some rare and endangered type of fowl that lived in our area or something, so I knew that in all likelihood, other eyes weren't far off.

The fear of being caught only enhanced the insane pleasure I felt at the moment, but it also made me more eager to give into my husband's demands.

"Yes! Yes, it's clear!" I agreed. "Oh, oh God . . . I'm cumming."

"Don't you dare," David told me. "Sometimes, the sound of a woman's orgasm makes me cum on reflex, and I'm not ready to blow my load just yet. First, I want to straighten out a few other things, understand?"

"L-Like what?" I asked, trying my best to keep my body in check.

"First, I want you to know that both Katy and Sera are pregnant."

My heart skipped a beat. This was something I'd feared and knew, with the way David had been fucking them, was inevitable. Still, it made me worried. We lived in a huge home, but now we were expecting ten young legs and feet running through. What was David thinking!?

But then he continued. "I've come to like this. I've come to enjoy my new life. I've come to love what Ronnie does for me, and I wanted you to know that she's replaced you as my favorite."

Another shock went through me, but this time, it wasn't entirely pleasurable. "David . . . what are you saying?!"

"I'm saying that, for all intents and purposes, I belong to Ronnie now. She's done more for me in the past four years than you did throughout our entire marriage."

I whimpered, not just from David's words, but because I knew that Ronnie had every inch of the house bugged. So, she would know what David had just told me . . . if she wasn't aware already.

Then I started to worry. What was this then . . . what David was doing to me now? Was this a "goodbye" fuck? Was this one final thing to remember him by before a divorce? Even after everything that he'd done for the past months, and the years I hadn't known about before that, I still loved David . . . I still needed him. I couldn't see my life without him at all. We'd sworn we'd always be together until death.

But if I'd already been replaced, then, he didn't need me anymore.

"So, what I'm telling you is that you need to better earn your keep," David spoke up. "You don't own this house—Ronnie paid for every brick. You don't cook, clean or watch the kids—Katy does that for us now. And you don't give me half as much sex as any of the other girls . . . including Ronnie. So, what exactly can you do for me?"

There was a long pause where I was sure that David was waiting for an answer . . . but I couldn't think of anything. Not like this . . . not with him both fucking me and making me feel like so much garbage at the same time. I was on the edge of both tears and orgasm at the same time.

"Since you don't have an answer, I'll give you what I've been thinking about: I want you to be ready . . . at every waking and dreaming second of every day . . . to do whatever you can to please me and Ronnie. I'm giving you this opportunity because you've been totally loyal to me despite everything that's been happening in the past few years. But, that is the only courtesy I will extend. Furthermore, this offer is pending whether or not you answer the next question to my satisfaction."

I held my breath. Despite myself, I could feel the wetness trickling from between my legs.

"Did you get your tubes tied yet?"

I gulped. "N-No. I know . . . I know I needed to, but I just haven't—"

"Good," David said as he reached forward and lifted my sweater above my tits, fondling them. He squeezed them vigorously, evidently more than pleased with my answer. "I want more babies from you.

"The only good thing you've done in your life is give me beautiful children and a daughter who's showed me all the love a true daughter can. Other than that, what have you given me? All those years of 'happiness' we had together? Even a month with Ronnie easily trumps that."

Again, I was dumbfounded. These sounded like Ronnie's words, not David's. Had she forced him to say these things? Maybe that was it. Maybe David was only saying this because Ronnie had made him.

I wanted to believe that. I truly did.

"Ronnie's shown me the light," David told me. "I only care about three things now: making my beautiful, slutty daughter happy . . . finding out how many other sluts I can fuck at any given time . . . and how many babies I can make with them. And if you aren't adding to any of those three, then I have no use for you. Understand?"

I swallowed hard. "Y-Yes, David."

"Hmph," he responded. "Admittedly, I'm used to younger wombs now, so I don't even know if one this used up can give me what I want. But, it's mine, anyway. Understand?"

God, why was this making me shiver all over? Why was this making me so wet?! "Yes, David."

"Furthermore, the conditions of my service to Ronnie are now the conditions of your service to me. You will not refuse me, ever. If I tell you to bend over and spread your legs, you will do it, even if I call and tell you to do it at the grocery store. You will not speak of this deal to anyone, not even Ronnie, and if you are doing anything else when I desire your pussy, you will drop whatever it is immediately and serve my needs.

"Is this understood?"

"Yes, David."

"This offer is more than fair to me," he said. "None of the other girls are being treated so leniently."

I don't know why I said these next words. They . . . just slipped out of me. "T-Thank you, David."

David gave my ass a firm slap and then I felt him begin driving harder into me. "You may cum now."

I let go with everything I had. I'd been building up ever since he'd first forced me to hold back, and it was like setting off an atomic bomb. I came so hard that I blacked out, and only came to when I felt David squirming his cock into me, trying to coax the last bits of cum.

When he was done, he just turned and left me, forcing me to scramble back to the house to clean up and find some clothing. While I was showering I took time to absorb everything. I sank into the water and sobbed, still positively shaken.

I knew then that I'd lost the man I'd married. The David that had been with me from then on had gone, and I didn't know if he would ever be back. It didn't seem likely, with the way Ronnie kept him so sated and wrapped around her finger. If I had to be honest with myself, I had lost my husband months ago . . . actually, maybe even before then, when he and Ronnie first started fucking behind my back. I think this was just the pure, uncensored reality finally slapping me in the face.

David belonged fully to Ronnie now. Even his tone, his wording sounded like hers. By all rights, my marriage was over.

But, as I sat there, the obvious thought never crossed my mind. Not once did I think about leaving, or divorcing David. Not once did I think about walking away from it. Curiously, I was numb to by the time the water stopped running. Once the initial shock had died down, I was left with nothing but purpose . . . and fulfillment.

This "new" David excited me as much as he terrified me.

******

THREE DAYS LATER

-RHONDA-

I had to admit that I was amazed at how eager to follow my orders The Bitch had become. Over the past few months, I'd noticed some sort of change in her. It happened right after the day I saw Daddy going out to meet her near the garage. Unfortunately, I never found out what happened between the two of them that day, because by sheer bad luck, my audio surveillance file was corrupted. I ordered Daddy to tell me some of the details the next time we fucked, but it would have been nicer to hear it straight from the recording.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 05



Daddy had basically said that he'd put her in her place and told her that she was no longer the top woman in his life. He said that I was his completely now, and his cock was mine to use whenever I wanted. He said I'd earned it, and that he finally understood.

I was happy to hear Daddy tell me that, I told him that I wasn't mad if The Bitch knew about our affair and, in fact, this would only make things eager for us. Then, I moved Daddy into my room from that night on, and I even found him four more playmates to fuck and do whatever he wished to. Daddy was happy to accept them, and I let gave him an entire weekend to get acquainted and fulfill all of his carnal desires. It was all to let Daddy understand that when he does something to please me, I will always reward him. That's what a real woman does for her lover, in addition to bearing him as many children as he wants and can put inside of her. I think now, after it's too late, The Bitch might finally understand that.

And ever since then, things could have gone any better. The Bitch knew her place in life, at last. She and Daddy still had sex, but it was only fucking. When Daddy made love, it was only to me.

I finally gave birth to Daddy's triplets, and he had me pregnant again less than two months later. Having Daddy sleeping in my bed worked out for the best, because he couldn't go through a single night without fucking me at least twice. He always woke up in the middle of the night and slipped his cock back into my pussy. And of course, I always gave him access. It was the least I could do for the man I loved more than any other— for my obedient and sexy Daddy.

The hard part was keeping the other women from knowing too much. None of them were aware that Daddy and I were lovers, and it was difficult to keep it that way.

You may be wondering who these girls were and how I got them to be Daddy's whores in the first place. Well, I'm afraid that I can't give away all of those little details, but let's just say that every person has a price and I'm very good at finding what it is. I'm also very good at covering my tracks, and figuring out how to make sure everyone except me loses if things don't as planned. That said, finding sluts like these is actually rather easy. The hard part is making sure that they stay just sluts.

Two of the girls, Sera and Katy, became pregnant just a couple of months after Daddy pledged to knock them up. As promised, both girls found a "mysterious" sum of funds within their bank accounts after a successful birth, a deposit noted only as "Services Rendered". Afterwards, however, pregnancy was hard for Sera, and she chose to end her service thereafter. Daddy insisted on keeping the baby, so we added her coffee-colored mutt to our nursery while she went on with her life. Whatever she's doing now, it's not my problem, but she's a significantly richer woman.

The other girl, Katy, reveled in her pregnancy and seemed to be in absolute heaven carrying my father's child. It was her first time, but she handled it with remarkable wherewithal. She showed off her belly to Daddy whenever she had the opportunity, and often showed up at our doorstep wearing ridiculously tight clothes that wouldn't fit a pregnant woman. As I found out during my many, many pregnancies, Daddy has a sincere fetish for those sorts of things. He loves tight clothes on pregnant bodies and the shameless flaunting of their condition. I knew as much, and that's why I gave him his own sluts to play with . . . a group of women with no limits, ready to be bred on his command.

. . . But I wasn't prepared for what occurred after that.

It all started with an email I received on my . . . "business" account.

"I want to renegotiate the terms of the contract."

"The price remains the same," I responded. I had always suspected that one of my girls would eventually attempt to change our arrangement, so I was ready. "Take it or leave it."

"I don't want to change the price," the message replied. "In fact, I'm willing to completely forego the money, if you'll listen to my terms."

"I'm listening."

"When I give birth, I'm going to give my child to David, no strings attached. He wants our baby to live with him, and I want to give him everything he wants."

Those last words made me pause before I responded. "That's fine. It specifically stated in the contract that The Client has the option of laying claim to his child, without option of refusal. You can give him your child and walk away. Sera did the same. How does this change our terms?"

"I want to move in with our child. I want to raise him with David."

Furiously, I punched into the keyboard. "Absolutely not. That wasn't the deal, and is not a considerable option."

"I don't care about what the reasons you set me up with him are, who this 'Client' is, or who he is to you. To me, he's David, and I've fallen in love with him."

When I read those words, I think my teeth clenched so hard that I cracked a molar.

"In that case, I am terminating our agreement, effectively immediately."

"What?!"

"From here on, you are forbidden from having contact with The Client, and when you give birth, a few of my people will arrive to collect the child and deliver him to The Client's home. Is that clear?"

"No, I don't want that! That isn't how I want this to be! I don't want to stop what I'm doing! I just don't want to be just a whore to David anymore. That's what this is, isn't it? Letting your 'Client' fuck us, dominate us, and knock us up like you paid us to? It's just a more specific type of prostitution, but I don't want that for David. He's an amazing man, and I want to be his whenever he wants me."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss. Our agreement is canceled and your contract void. You and I will have no further business to conduct. Goodbye."

I destroyed all copies of the messages after that and switched to a backup account. I've learned in my line of work that you can never be too careful. I placed a number of phone calls to a few people I trusted. Professionals. I arranged for them to go to Katy's apartment and explain the terms of our separation in more specific . . . and stronger . . . wording. I made sure that they understood the girl was not to be hurt. Not while The Client's child was still inside her. I had no intention of depriving Daddy the fruits of his labor.

But now it was just the matter of telling Daddy that his little Arab baby machine wouldn't be around anymore.

Luckily, I knew that fucking Daddy's brains out first would do just the trick.

******

-DAVID-

Ronnie wasn't showing yet, but I knew she was pregnant. I'd grown to have a sense of these things, after eight pregnancies during my lifetime combined from a plethora of different women. The body language, their skin complexion, even their smell . . . I was able to spot a pregnant woman within any type of crowd. My daughter was definitely carrying one of my buns in her oven, but just on the odd chance that I was wrong, I was determined to correct that tonight.

I had come to enjoy making love with Ronnie. Slow, tender love. We'd never really done that before. Until months ago, I had always half-resisted what Ronnie and I did. I was always partly ashamed. But now, I worshipped my daughter and her juicy, tight cunt. There was no way that something which felt as good as sliding my cock into my gorgeous daughter's pussy could ever be wrong. I found out through first-hand experience that all those geneticists and doctors had been completely full of shit. My daughter had given me five gorgeous and healthy children in her lifetime, and I had no aims to stop. My little girl was put on this Earth to spread her legs for me and grow my children in her belly, and I was going to fulfill the purpose God had intended for her.

It was also liberating knowing that Eileen had been lying to me all this time about Ronnie knowing of our affair. That meant I was free to be myself around both Eileen and Rhonda, and I could fuck Rhonda whenever I damn well pleased. You have no idea how maddening it was to limit fucking Rhonda to once or twice a day and mostly in her bedroom. Rhonda epitomized sexiness with everything she did—the way she cooked a meal and slowly ran her tongue over the spoon, the way she always looked deep into my eyes and licked her lips while she read one of the medical books she'd written to me, and the way she would rub her hands on her belly, indicating that she was either pregnant, or sorely wanted me to put another one inside her.

Ronnie did these things at all hours of the day, and now that I was free, I could take her whenever I wanted. Ronnie was still the best sex I ever had, but I had to admit—Katy was now a very close second.

Anyway, like I said, I was making love to Ronnie, with her heels propped on my shoulders and my cock as deep into my daughter's pussy as I could get it. I didn't want to take a chance that even a drop of my cum escaped her womb. When I was ready, I emptied my balls into my daughter's cunt and stayed in that position for another six minutes while the two of us kissed and cuddled. When I was done, Ronnie scrambled to her knees and started to lick and suck my cock all the while rubbing my cock with these smooth, shiny pearls. Ronnie knew this trick with them where she could not only get me hard again, but coax my balls into creating more cum. It only took a few minutes for me to be ready, but I let my little girl worship my cock a little longer before I put her on her back and ravaged her again.

We fucked each other until we were exhausted and I cuddled with her in what was now our bed. It felt nice to be able to sleep with my daughter until morning, because I was always sure to slip my cock into her again before the night was done. The only bad thing about it was that I couldn't get Eileen to sleep in here as well, because Ronnie said she didn't like her scent. It was just as well . . . I tried to find time to fuck Eileen too when I could.

Before I could drift to sleep, though, Ronnie rolled over and began lightly moving her fingers over my chest.

"Daddy, would now be a good time to give you some bad news?"

"Of course, baby," I answered as I kissed her on her lips. "After fucking like that, there's absolutely no bad news you could give that would ruin my mood."

That's what I had said.

But I was wrong. Completely wrong.

Hearing that Katy wanted to quit our love affair was probably one of the most heart-breaking things I'd heard in my entire life. I'd gotten so accustomed to the fact that Katy was mine that I didn't think for a fact that she may not have been completely serious. The truth was, I didn't know anything about Katy outside of how great she was in bed, and I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that she had a whole different life outside of me. That didn't mean that it didn't sting like a sonuvabitch, though.

Katy was one-of-a-kind. Nobody was willing to do what she did for me. Nobody.

Katy always called herself my 'complete and loyal slave', and one day, to test that, I ordered her to not put on any clothes until I told her she could. I made her drive home naked and show up at my door the next day just as nude. In fact, I later found out that she'd stopped at the gas station on the way home and pumped her gas in the buff. I hadn't intended her to be that dedicated to me, but she was.

Which made it all the more strange that she would suddenly abandon me like that.

But the only other possibility was that Rhonda was lying to me. She's never hesitated to be dishonest before, but why would she even want to now, when she knows I'll do whatever she wants? It wouldn't make any sense to finally earn my complete trust and then throw it all away, would it?

But then, Ronnie sometimes doesn't make sense . . .

******

-EILEEN-

THREE WEEKS LATER

"Mrs. Scott, my client has come to me with concerns that there may be some underhanded dealings going on which you may or may not be aware of."

I tried my best not to let on that I was scared to death with every word this man spoke. Part of me just wanted to tell him to go away, to leave me alone and stop trespassing. But, would that look too suspicious? How much did he know already? How much did whoever hired him know about my husband and daughter?

Looking up at the stiff mid-day sun, the stranger lifted his hat and rubbed his brow.

"There's lots of bugs out here aren't there?"

I gulped. "W-W-What?!"

"Lots of bugs in the garden, aren't there? I didn't bring any repellent."

I was so relieved that I didn't know what to say. For a moment, I was convinced he was talking about a different type of "bug" entirely.

"Oh, well, you know . . . I work out here so often that I never notice. Ha ha."

He smiled and nodded. "So if I may have a moment, Mrs. Scott, would you happen to have seen any strange blackmail going on in your home?"

"B-Black . . . what?"

"Any strange black males," the detective asked. "I've been told that some of the people here have reported burglaries with young black males seen escaping the scene. And, I beg your pardon if this seems a tad bigoted, but this neck of the woods is pretty homogenized, and there isn't a single African-American household for dozens of miles. However, I was told that your daughter was dating a black male, and I thought there may be a connection."

I remembered—Yung Doc had been one of Rhonda's many 'fake boyfriends' over the years, to cover up her affair with her father. She never had sex with any of them, but she sometimes 'dated' them for a while—just long enough to give the impression that they fucked. Rhonda had reputation for being somewhat "easy" amongst her friends and colleagues, which was the way she wanted it.

But this particular guy hadn't been around in some time. I had no idea what this detective thought he knew, but he clearly wasn't quite on the ball.

"I'm sorry sir, but my daughter's private life is private," I said to him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be going inside."

Again, he nodded. "I understand ma'am, but I confess that I was hoping you'd be able to provide me with a bit more information."

"I don't know anything else. I'm sorry."

Again, he smiled. Something about it unsettled me. "I understand, ma'am. Thank you for your time, and enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

Finally, the detective started to make his way back down the hill, wherever he'd come from. I waited until he was well out of my sight, and then I beat a hasty retreat back into the house.

******

-KATY-

I received the phone call right when the detective said I would. I answered it on the first ring . . . that's how excited I was to finally have news.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Hasan?"

"Yes?"

"Yes ma'am, I've just come from the subject's home and I think you were right. There's definitely something strange going on in there."

I let out a breath. "Is David alright? Is he in trouble?"

"Not as far as I can tell, ma'am. He wasn't home when I got there, but I've been watching them all week and he seems to be going about his regular day just fine."

"Thank Allah," I said with relief. Part of me was heartbroken to think of my David's life going on without me, but that was hardly of importance. His happiness was, first and foremost, what I cared about.

"But what about the other things I suspected? Did you find out anything else?"

"Not entirely ma'am, but I have a strong suspicion that you were right about the daughter. I asked the mother about her, and she immediately froze. I used a few hot words like 'blackmail' and 'bugs' to gauge a response, and she almost pissed herself when she heard them. There's no doubt in my mind that someone in that house is using blackmail, and all signs point to the super-genius, mega-doctor daughter."

I felt elated. "Thank you very much, Mr. Lowrey. I'll tell my friend to forward your fee, but please continue your investigation. It's important to me that I find out what's going on."

"Of course, ma'am. My client says that I'm yours until the case is resolved, so rest assured . . . you can count on me."

When I hung up my phone, I sat back in my chair and clasped my hands in prayer. I knew that Allah had no reason to hear me—I'd betrayed my faith so many times at this point, and I was still unclean and attempting to chase after a man who was already wed. But, there was something that felt wrong. Very, very wrong.

But luckily, I had made another powerful friend. Someone that was just as concerned with what was happening in that hose as I was.

And if that Rhonda had anything to do with this . . . if she was the one who was trying to keep me away from my David . . .

. . . Even Hell wouldn't match the fury I unleashed on her.

To Be Continued . . .



Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 06



This is a special chapter of "Daddy's Little Psychopath" that introduces a new central character: Katy as well as taking a very dramatic twist for the series. I hope you like it.

Now for my new readers: this is the third installment of my Daddy's Little Psychopath series. Chapter One can be found here, Chapter Two can be found here, Chapter Three can be found here, Chapter Four can be found here, and Chapter Five can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, mother-daughter incest, rough sex, reluctance, and blackmail. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

Please, please, please leave a comment below. I can't stress enough how much feedback helps me write.

******

-KATY-

This is a new journal that I've taken to recording in order to organize my thoughts better. I apologize if I make any grammatical mistakes or show a less than acceptable understanding of the English language, as my first language is Arabic.

So, please allow me to introduce myself. My very formal name is Princess Kathirah bint Saleh Abd al-Hasan . . . but most Americans know me by the simpler name of "Katy" Hasan. I picked up that nickname during my first year or so living in the United States, when I was just a little girl. I gave my teacher attitude because she was doing a math problem wrong, and I refused to agree with her even when she hit me on my knuckles and made me write "I will not act like a know-it-all" three thousand times. People said that I was being "catty", and eventually, everyone just shortened my first name to call me that all the time.

I was born the final child of thirty-seven to Prince Saleh Abdul Hasan, and my father decided to use me as sort of an "experiment". I don't mean that in a bad way. It was just that, after raising eighteen of my brothers and eighteen of my sisters, my father decided that his final child would be the one he raised to be special. I was sent to the United States when I was only a baby, to be raised and educated both in the ways of the West and the East. My father wished for me to be something unique—exactly what he expected me to grow into, I'm not sure, and he died before he could reveal the grand plan to me.

As a result, I'm a product of two worlds. I speak both Arabic and English fluently, although I feel much more comfortable in the former. I'm well-versed in both American and Saudi history, culture and literature, and I have an education which is both Islamic and secular. I'm more than capable of blending in completely in either worlds, being able to drop my Arabic accent for an American one and vice-versa, but I much prefer to simply be myself. It's far less stressing that way.

I was followed everywhere by a team of chaperones and tutors, but when I grew older, I became bold enough to try venturing on my own from time to time. I became a party girl, drinking, clubbing, doing all of the things good Muslim girls shouldn't. Well, everything except one. I never let anyone take my virginity, although many, many men tried. Don't get me wrong—it wasn't because I was a prude or anything . . . while it's true that Islam forbids sex outside of marriage, the rules are different when you're rich, and especially when visiting outside of Saud. I've actually broken several of your American laws several times since I was a child, but it was all covered up because my father was one of the richest men in the world.

As the saying goes in my family, "The rules need not have meaning to us."

I was a very naughty girl. I liked attention, so I intentionally wore clothes that barely covered my breasts, my rear, or my legs. I have a birthmark just below my left butt-cheek, and the rule I always followed was that if my outfit covered the mark, I wouldn't wear it. I wanted men's tongues dragging across the floor when they saw me, and for the most part, I got what I wanted. However, it was frustrating that most of the men that approached me were all Muslim, because even when I was younger, I had developed a fetish for white men.

I wanted my first lover to be special. I wanted him to be kinky, exotic, and something I would remember forever, even when I would eventually return home and probably be married to some boring Saudi guy. I wanted to release all of my inhibitions and fulfill my every fantasy while in the States. Oh yes, some of us Muslim girls are that way—that's something the news will never tell you.

One day, I was approached by a man who said that he was searching for "talented" girls. I did not know what exactly he meant, but I decided to try this. Eventually, I was sent for "testing" with other girls. There were over forty of us, and many of them were foreigners like myself. We were all instructed to strip ourselves naked in front of total strangers and try on various lewd and perverse clothes. The men had cameras and videotape with them, and they filmed us all. Some of us were instructed to touch each other and look into the camera a certain way. Some of us were even made to kiss.

That was my first experience touching my lips to another woman's . . . and I did not find it to my disliking.

The men thanked us for our time and released us, saying that they would be in touch. They called each of us back for more pictures and more making out, but one by one, some of the girls never came back. Whatever happened to them, I was the last girl to be approached . . . and I believe it had something to do with the fact that I was still a virgin at the time. I have heard that this would have made me "priceless" in certain circles.

When I was eventually approached for "work", I was called in to take several more pictures, and a video where I did nothing but describe myself and talk about what sort of things I liked and disliked. They asked me who my favorite actor was (Matt Damon), what sort of guys I liked (brown hair, blue eyes, light skin), and what my turn-ons were (letting go, being a complete, wanton slut, being fucked like a cow). The men once again thanked me and then paid me for my time—I had never held so much American money in my hands at one time! They told me that if I wanted more where it came from, that I only needed to continue coming when they called.

Eventually, I was contacted by someone through email . . . this mysterious person would only refer to themself as the "Buyer", who said that they were acting on behalf of an equally mysterious "Client". I was never allowed to know the name of this Buyer, and the only business ever conducted was electronically. However, I was told that I would get to meet the Client in person should I meet certain criteria.

I wasn't naïve. I knew that I was being traded as a good . . . but this was such an opportunity for me. The thought of being marketed off sort of appealed to a darker side within me and gave me a rush that was unbelievable. The Buyer told me that all I needed to do was meet the Client and his wife, and do anything and everything they told me to. It would be over within hours, and I would walk away with more money than I could count. Of course, I didn't really need the money . . . but the thought of taking it for letting a stranger have my pussy made me wet.

When I was eventually called and told that I was "hired", I only asked the "Buyer" for one request: to see a picture of the man that would take my virginity. I was sent a picture by mail with no return address. He was most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life. Matt Damon could go screw himself.

His name was David. He was brown-haired with specs of gray, he had a very rugged and sexy five o'clock shadow, and his eyes were crystal blue. His nose looked strong and narrow, his lips were thin but soft, and his chin was thick. His skin was peach, with the lightest of tans. He was everything I had ever wanted and more.

Of course, I was nervous . . . and that only increased my excitement. I wanted to live dangerously—I wasn't within the States because I wanted to be coddled and protected. I wanted to live a life to be remembered, and to make my own choices, for good or for bad.

I went to David's home and steeled myself for what was to come. I was directed to a lovely home deep within a lush, forested hillside, somewhat separated from the nearest city and miles away from another home. I went to the front door and rang the bell.

When the door opened, I was greeted by a lovely woman who appeared to be somewhat in her late thirties, although I would soon find out that she was actually in her early forties and simply looked very good for her age. She was dark-haired and fair of skin like David was, and she possessed friendly brown eyes. I knew immediately that she must have been David's wife, and imagined that the two of them must have made some gorgeous children together. She invited me inside and made me feel right at home. She asked my name and even made me a cup of tea, telling me to wait in the living room until she could locate her husband so that he could meet me himself.

I had never been more scared in my life, nor so excited. I did not know what these two wished to do with me, only that it would be something sexual and that I was being paid to fulfill their every desire. As I stated already, I was still a virgin at this time, and I was still "intact" as a proper Muslim woman should be. But, if I went through with this, I would be finally crossing a line that I would never be able to turn away from.

Finally, the woman returned from the top of the stairs and said that David would be soon to join us. I stood and waited for this man to appear . . . to see what kind of creature I was willing to be sold to. My heart was pounding so fiercely in my chest, and my palms had run cold. Half of my mind told me to run out of the door, return to my family and my chaperones and tell them that I was foolish. But, the other half would not allow it.

So, I waited. And then he appeared.

For me, it was pure love at first sight.

******

-RHONDA-

For the first time in a while, I couldn't fully enjoy Daddy's cock while it slowly pumped into my tight, hungry pussy. My mind was in two places at once, mulling over what I'd heard being said between The Bitch and that detective that had shown up earlier that day. The conversation was very odd, with nothing that really seemed to be worrisome, but that was actually what worried me the most. Those questions were almost pointless for a hired investigator to ask, which led me to believe that he was attempting to gauge The Bitch's reactions. Unfortunately, neither the audio nor the camera angle gave me a good indication of how she'd reacted or what her facial expressions were. But knowing her dumb ass, she was probably as subtle as a bonfire.

That meant that this detective was suspicious. And that he would be back.

I didn't dare tell Daddy what had happened. He had more important things to do, like making sure that our sweaty, wet bodies rubbed together while he mounted me from behind. Daddy didn't need to concern himself with the day-to-day. He didn't need to even think at all. I would do all of those things for him. All I needed him to do was use my pussy for his own delight, and make sure that he kept me filled with his milky seed.

Daddy delivered on all levels. He spent a solid half-hour fucking me hard from behind, sawing in and out of my moist cunt. He grunted like an animal every time he thrust all the way into me, and the impact was so hard that my arms nearly gave out after a few minutes. We were only half into it and my body was completely covered with sweat, and I could feel it dripping from him as well. The sheets below me were soaked with the efforts of our lovemaking.

Eventually, Daddy slowed down and began making slow love to me. Keeping his cock buried to the hilt while he pulled me against him and kissed me from behind. I rolled my tongue and my father's tongue together until we'd swapped saliva, and then I looked him deep in the eyes and soaked in the fire in his eyes as he continued to slowly grind my pussy and squeeze my tits. His hands wandered, everywhere, the slickness of my sweat, making it effortless for him to touch me anywhere he pleased—and I encouraged him to touch me everywhere. I loved feeling his strong hands over every part of me.

Then, abruptly, Daddy threw me face down on the bed again and began to fuck me even more savagely than before. It was just a constant tremor of action, my body bouncing back and forth on Daddy's cock with complete abandon while he fucked me with an inhuman pace. There was no gentleness or rhythm of any kind. Daddy just took me like a force of nature, and I lay on my stomach and let him.

He eventually grasped my hips hard and shot his load deep inside me, where our next child had already begun to grow. I was now a full month pregnant with Daddy's sixth child . . . well by me, anyway, but I don't count any of those other pieces of garbage he made with those other sluts . . . and he already had me wishing he could somehow get me pregnant again. I'd carry a thousand of Daddy's babies in me if it were possible. I'll give him all the children he could ever want.

That's why this detective situation was pissing me off. Where the fuck did he come from? What did he want? I finally had everything I always wanted. Daddy was completely happy, The Bitch was a broken cuckquean, and I shared my bed with the only man I'd ever loved. Eleven years of planning and my genius had finally made it happen.

So, why couldn't the rest of the world just fuck off and die!?

******

-KATY-

"Oh God, David . . . I . . . I love what you do to me. I love the way you feel inside me."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as I continued to feel his balls slap against me from behind with each thrust. "Tell me how much you love it."

"I l-l-love it more than anything in the world, David! I've never felt s-s-so good!"

"So do you want my cock in you as often as possible?"

"Y-Yes, David! I want it in me always!"

"That makes you my slut, you know that? That makes you my slutty little slave to fuck whenever I have the need."

"Yes, David! I'm your slut! Your slave! Your whore! Your sharmootaa! Just don't ever stop fucking me! Please, don't ever stop!"

"What will you do for my cock, slut?"

"I will do anything you ever ask me to, David! I will follow your every command!"

"Then say right now that you'll be my slave from here on, and that you want no other cock but mine."

"I . . . I will be your slave from here on, David . . . now and forever! I will never let another cock near me but yours!"

"Tell me that you want to have my baby."

"Yes! Yah, Allah! I will have your baby, David! I will have as many of your babies as you want! I will be your woman, for you to use and impregnate as you see fit, now and forever!"

Sitting alone in my home, I listened to that recording over and over. I wasn't allowed to bring a video recorder to my "sessions" with David, but I was able to smuggle audio one. I kept it in my purse the whole time, and I often listened to it when I returned to my home and thought of David.

Faleen, my chaperone and friend, felt concerned for me, saying that I was becoming too "attached" to the American man. She said that I needed to remember that this was all in fun, and that I needed to remain respectfully aware of my role as a Saudi princess.

But I didn't listen to a word of it.

I was in heat, I was in lust, and I was in love. I thought about David every day and every night. My body burned white hot when he wasn't inside me, and no matter how much money I received from the "Buyer", it was never enough. The money only made things worse. It told me that David was only mine so long as the Buyer was willing to pay. If he . . . or she . . . ever decided to end things, I would never have my David again.

When David finally made me pregnant, it was the happiest day of my life, despite the furled brows of everyone in my court. I'd wanted so badly to give him a baby, and Allah, who is all-powerful and all-kind, finally blessed me with one. The all-knowing one understood what a great man, David was.

I wanted to add to the four children he already had. He was always such a wonderful father whenever I saw him with his own children as well as the two grandchildren his daughter had produced from her various boyfriends. David loved children, and I knew he wanted nothing less than to see my body swelling with his child. At last, I was able to deliver just that.

David carried me over the threshold like a blushing bride when I broke the news to him, and we spent the entire day making love. No other women . . . not even his wife . . . just he and I. I had never felt so loved or fulfilled. I knew I'd made the right choice to make this man the father of my children, and I swore that I would keep my body in good health to bear him many more for the far, far future. Even if it one day cost me my family and fortune.

My belly grew at a steady rate, and David watched me with a keen eye. He enjoyed touching my swollen belly, and seeing his fruit stretch me. I intentionally wore the tightest clothes I could find for him, even if they were a size or two too small, just so that he could see how obscene I looked. On more than one occasion, David was on hand to witness my breasts tear through a bra that didn't fit me or my belly pop a button on a shirt too small. It drove him crazy with lust to me, and he could never keep his hands . . . or cock . . . off of me.

In the meantime, however, I sometimes began to wonder of his wife. I wanted to speak to her on occasion, but we could rarely exchange words. I think she saw me as just another of her husband's distractions—after all, the black girl Sera had been impregnated by David just as well—but I wanted to be friends with her, because I wasn't planning on going anywhere. I had no desire to steal another woman's husband, but Islam doesn't insist that a man can only belong to one woman. A strong, willful man can love many women, and I had no doubt that David held love for us both. I also suspected that David had another lover as well . . . . There was never any evidence of such a thing, but it was just a feeling I acquired after nearly a full year of being a part of his household.

Soon, it became time for me to give birth, and I started to think long and hard about my future with David and that of our children. The nearer I came to my delivery, the more the situation weighed at my conscience. Here I was, pledged to belong to David until the end of time, and I was still accepting money for servicing him like a common whore. Receiving pay for wifely or motherly duties would be one thing, but I was being paid by a third party for doing nothing but opening my legs for him. I didn't want that for David anymore. He deserved to have me, and to know that the money meant nothing to me compared to his happiness.

But, that was when tragedy struck. When I tried to change the deal with the "Buyer", he or she became furious and immediately forbade me from ever seeing David again! I pleaded with them to change their mind, but they stopped returning my mail, and eventually the server told me that the email address no longer even existed! A few days later, mysterious men . . . armed men . . . arrived at my door. They came in and made themselves at home in my home. Some of them even began to eat my food! My tutors and chaperones did their best to protect me, and make me feel safe, but they weren't trained bodyuards.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 06



One of the men sat down and calmly, but menacingly, explained to me that my contract with the "Buyer" had now been canceled and that any further contact with the "Client" would be unhealthy for me.

I had never been more terrified! Who were these men? What did they have to do with David?! Why couldn't I just be with the man that I loved?!

I gave birth a few days later, and the same men appeared to take my child from me. In such a short time, I had lost my David and my child! I became so depressed that I could no longer eat nor sleep. David was all I could think about, and our child as well! I never even knew my own baby's name! I had always promised David that he could name him, but now I was forbidden to even hear what my own child's name was!

I spent months tearing at my walls, feeling trapped, weak and powerless. I was a Princess, but I felt like gutter trash. I did not know what to do. One day, I finally decided to take a chance and go to my David. I had to go to him and see that he was alright. I had to at least know my baby's name!

Without alerting my chaperones, I was in my sedan, and I had barely made it within a mile of the home when all of a sudden I heard a loud honk. I barely had time to react before a massive vehicle—a garbage truck—came barreling into the front of my vehicle. The next thing I knew, I was spinning, the metal in my car was growling and groaning, and the world would not sit still. When it all finally stopped, the front of the car was totaled, but there was miraculously little damage to the rest of my vehicle or myself aside from a few scrapes and bruises.

But it wasn't over quite yet.

I looked up to find a man in a black ski mask walking toward me with a crowbar in hand. I desperately struggled to free myself . . . to find some way to get away . . . but I was trapped underneath a jammed seatbelt!

The masked man walked toward me menacingly and I saw his crowbar raise and smash the side window of my car. Then he went to the front and battered the already-smashed windshield before finally breaking off the passenger's mirror. At last, the man walked to the driver's side of my car and stared down at me.

"You were warned to keep away, but you apparently didn't understand or didn't hear us clearly. So, we figured we'd make the message as clear as we could." His weapon slammed into my car door, making me yelp in terror. "If we catch you around here today, what we do to you will make what just happened to your car seem like a massage.

"Do you understand?" Before I could respond, he then said, "Wait, what am I doing? You're an Ack-med. So wait, how do I say this? Oh yeah! Hall Tauf-ham?"

I knew what he was trying to say: "hal tafham", which means "Do you understand?" in Arabic. But, he butchered the pronunciation . . . whether from his own ignorance or through intention, I do not know.

Nevertheless, I was too terror-stricken to debate it with him. "Yes, I understand!" I yelped.

"Good girl," he said, turning away. "You be safe out there, now, ya hear?"

******

-EILEEN-

"Oh god, David. Give it to her. Pound that pussy. Pound it so ha—"

I was so excited over the hot incestuous fucking happening right in front of me that I stuffed myown tit into my mouth without even thinking. I suckled on my nipple hungrily and sloppily as I watched my husband's tight ass rise and fall between my daughter's thighs. His cock rose and feel out of Rhonda's tight, fleshy cunt, making soft squelching and squishing noises as the load he'd dumped into her pussy earlier continued to keep her cunt moist and ready for her father.

David was grunting like an animal, his powerful groans barely drowning out Rhonda's own soft moans and murmurs. Her hands rubbed across his back and occasionally over his ass as he continued to grind into her pussy, taking his full length from hilt to tip almost every time. Ronnie was in pure heaven—that much was obvious, and David was clearly locked in primitive lust.

Even I had to admit I was enjoying this far more than I should have. My husband was right before my eyes, fucking our daughter, and all I could do was suck on my breast and finger my cunt. I'd long lost apprehension about watching them fuck, and in fact, I now begged them to do so in front of me. David was ridiculously savage when he fucked Ronnie, and I couldn't get enough of watching it. Rhonda always brought out the wild beast in David, and I shook all over when I remembered that it was our pregnant daughter that David's cock was buried into.

"Fuck her David. Fuck your baby girl. Dump your load into her!"

"Do it, Daddy," Rhonda moaned. "I want you to cum in me more."

"Of course, baby, of course. Daddy always has plenty of cum left for you."

"Ohhhh, thank you, Daddy. You know my pussy will always accept your cum. Anywhere. Anytime."

David hunched on his shoulders and really began beating into Rhonda's pussy now. Her head fell back and she screamed, and David began to shout and moan in earnest. I watched as his ass cheeks clenched and he pushed himself balls deep. His balls trembled as they piped hot jets of cum into Rhonda's waiting pussy, and bits of cum began to ooze out of her as David continued to slowly grind away, until the last of his energy dissipated.

"Thank you so much, Daddy," Rhonda cooed as she kissed David on the lips. I couldn't see their heads or faces from where I sat, but I could tell from the suckling noises that the two of them were kissing like a couple deep in love. David kissed our daughter as if she were his wife, instead of the woman seated behind them.

Finally, he broke his kiss and said, "I'm not ready to quit yet. I can still go again in your pussy, Ronnie."

"Mmmmm, later, Daddy. My pussy is just a little sore. We've been at this for, what . . . has it been three hours, Mother?"

"Um . . . f-four," I answered weakly. Suddenly, I was back to myself. Back in my right mind.

"Huh? What did you say, 'Mother'? I've been fucking your husband for four hours?"

I swallowed. "Y-Yes."

"Ah, I completely lost track of time," Rhonda said with a smirk. "Daddy fucks me so good that every moment feels like forever."

"The same is true of you, baby," David answered. "My cock just can't get enough of your pussy."

Rhonda eyed me wickedly, and suddenly, the pain all came rushing back. I once again remembered that I had not only lost David as my lover, but now I'd technically lost him as my husband. He was completely dedicated to Ronnie, now. It was amazing watching the two of them fuck . . . the chemistry and the pounding of their flesh was completely mesmerizing . . .

But this part . . . the afterglow with the kissing and the cuddling and the sweet nothings . . . this was the part that really stung. Hearing David tell Ronnie how much he loved her . . . how much he needed her . . . how lost he felt without his cock inside her . . . that was almost too much to hear. Even worse was that I knew David meant every word now. At first, he said these things in Ronnie's presence to appease her . . . but now . . .

. . . He was completely, totally brainwashed!

"Do you want me to make you breakfast in bed, Ronnie?" he asked. "You really don't need to move in your condition."

"Oh silly Daddy, please, I'm not even showing yet," she giggled. "I can make my own breakfast. I just need to run down to my lab for a little while, and I'll be back before you know it. Then, you can come and dump a whole new load into my pussy . . . or any other hole, if you prefer. It's been a while since you've done my ass, and since I'm pregnant now, there's no chance of it going to waste."

"Oh, I don't know," David said with a smirk. "There might be another one in there I haven't gotten to."

Again, Ronnie giggled. "Oh, you. What am I going to do with you?"

I swear, I wanted to vomit right then, especially when Ronnie looked me right in the eye with that same twinkle. This was what she had always wanted. This exact moment is what she'd been planning an entire decade for. It was finally within her grasp . . . her greatest dream . . .

. . . and my worst nightmare.

Ronnie slipped on a robe which did nothing to cover her body, and I could still see stream of David's cum running down the insides of her thighs. The bottom of the robe was so short that David smacked her firmly on her ass as she began walking away, and she trotted off with the largest smile she could muster.

As soon as she was gone, and we were alone in the room, David's hungry eyes turned to me.

"Like I said, I'm not done yet, and I still need some pussy."

I nodded, and my body began to move on its own. "Yes, David."

*****

-KATY-

I went to the hospital after my encounter, and then to the police to report the accident. I told the officer the entire truth—that I had been hit by a garbage truck and that the driver had then approached me and assaulted me. The officer took down my entire statement before eventually telling me to speak with a detective.

"So, Ms. Hasan, you say that someone hit your car and then walked out to threaten you? Why would they do that?"

"Because I was warned to stay out of the area, but someone I care about lives there and I just wanted to visit."

The officer nodded his head and then sighed. "I see. Well, have you considered that it might be best to leave some things well enough alone, ma'am?"

I stared at the officer in confusion for a moment. "What? I don't . . . I don't understand."

"Well, I mean, perhaps this person you're trying to find don't want to be found? Maybe time you thought of that, hm?"

What was this man talking about!? Why would a policeman say these sorts of things?!

"How could I possibly know that?! I just want to speak to him to find out for myself!"

"Well, let me level with you ma'am . . . if what you're saying is true, then it seems pretty bad for your health to keep tryin' now don't it?"

"Why are you saying such things?! Why are you asking me all these questions! Aren't you supposed to help me!?"

"Well, I'd be more inclined to help you if I thought I could believe your story, ma'am. But come on! This is all a bit far-fetched, don't you think?! Your car gets totaled on the way to meet some guy you bumped uglies with, some guy in a mask assaults you, and then you come in here looking for us to investigate something so flimsy? I mean, for all I know, you made the whole thing up just to try and get out of admitting you're a lousy driver."

I blinked once, and then my brow narrowed. "I never told you that I had been intimate with the person I was looking for. I only said that I went to see someone I 'cared about'."

The detective continued to look at me for several moments with a blank, emotionless stare. He didn't look away, speak, or even try to move for more than two minutes, until finally . . .

"Ma'am, for your own good, just let it rest, okay?"

"Oh my God! You're part of this, aren't you!?"

The detective scoffed at me. "Now look, you're getting even crazier. Why don't you just go home and let that bump on your noggin heal, hm? I promise you'll look back on this and realize how silly you've been acting."

"You're all policemen, and you behave this way!? Men in your status are supposed to be honorable, not thugs with badges!"

He laughed at me. "Pfaw! Like I need a lecture from a whore who decided she was too good to take money anymore." He wasn't even keeping up the façade anymore, either knowing that he was a horrible liar, or feeling that he had nothing to fear from me anyway. "Now look, princess, why don't you just go on home and cry into your pillow or something before I run you in for any charge I could think of? You think daddy would like bailing you out like that?"

I didn't have much choice. Though I still boiled inside, I had to take my leave and go home defeated, realizing for the first time just how far out of my grasp I had reached. I had no idea what was going on, or what evil was behind this, but there was something powerful, almost demonic, that held the tethers of this entire town . . . no, it seemed more like the entire county! There were eyes everywhere, watching me . . . taking account of my every move.

Even my own apartment didn't feel safe anymore. When I undressed for bed, when I showered, I just had the impression that there were eyes watching. That feeling never went away, no matter how much I tried to ignore it. Eventually, I moved out of that place and moved into another apartment in a much different part of town. I still didn't feel safe here, but at least it didn't feel as though I was being watched at all times.

If the police were corrupted, then how deep did this evil go? How far did it spread? Who could I even trust!?

******

"Hello, this is Aziz. Kathirah, is that you?!"

I swallowed before answering. "Yes, brother, it's me."

"What's this I hear about an attempt on your life? What is going on in that country?"

"It's . . . it's nothing, Brother. I . . . I can handle it."

"Nonsense. It has obviously become too dangerous for you to remain there. I will send men to retrieve you and protect you until you are safe at home."

I was in tears now. This was not going as I had wished. "Aziz . . . Brother . . . Please . . . I have to stay."

"I'm listening," he said.

"I have run into trouble. BIG trouble, and I need to get myself out of it."

"Ah. Don't worry, little sister. I will take care of it right away!"

"No! Aziz, I don't want to come home! That's not the kind of help I need!" He remained silent and waited for me to continue. "I just . . . I just need money!"

"Ah, so you want more of my money so that you can get yourself into even deeper trouble than you are in now?" He tisked. "What is it, Kathirah, gambling? Have you gotten yourself into some kind of debt?!"

"No, Aziz," I answered, still sobbing uncontrollably. "It's not gambling. I've just . . . I've just got nowhere to turn. There's something I must do, but if I try, then there are people that will kill me!"

Aziz's voice became low. His entire tone instantly changed. "Who are these people?"

"I do not know, but that is what I must find out! I must find out, for Daud's sake!"

"What? Who is Daud!? A lover?"

I knew I wasn't telling the complete truth. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to be completely honest, either. 'Daud' is the Muslim version of the name 'David', so I was technically telling my brother the truth. "Yes."

"I see," Aziz responded. Through the phone, it was impossible to gauge his reaction. Not that being in person may have helped me much. He was always difficult for me to understand.

Finally, however, he spoke. "I believe I can assist you, Sister. If it's only money you need, I can arrange it."

"Thank you, Brother! Thank you very much!"

"I only wish for you to be happy, dear sister, but I do wish that you would cease insisting on this 'independence' nonsense. It is alright to admit when your reach has exceeded its grasp, and you can always come home."

"Yes, I know, Brother."

"So, my one condition is that you one day introduce me to this Daud, once he becomes my brother, and bring many of your children here to meet their uncle!"

"Thank you, Aziz! I will remember to do so!"

"Very good, sister! I wish you the best!"

******

I finally had the money I needed, and within a few weeks, I'd come up with a plan. I needed to get close to David, but in a way that was much safer. I would need someone that could help me investigate what was going on at David's home.

As I'd begun to think, I started to suspect that there was someone living in the home that was behind things. The thing that had always seemed strange to me was that neither David nor his wife seemed to be aware of what was going on between myself and the "Buyer". Again, had no proof of anything, but I just had a bad feeling. And, I didn't think the wife had anything to do with it, either . . . she just seemed too nice . . . and she was always just as eager to please David as I was, if not moreso. She loved him, with all of her heart.

So that just left one person: the daughter, Rhonda. I had never met her, but David had first mentioned her when he brought up his children. Or rather, he was forced to mention her after I pointed out a contradiction. At first, David only mentioned having three children, and he brought me to meet his sons. I didn't think anything was strange about this, even though David and his wife were and older couple, it may have just taken them a while to finally produce children.

But then, after David and I had met a few times for sex, I met two other children I had never seen before. I asked David if they were his as well, and he sort of looked at me puzzled before he finally said that they were, in fact, his grandchildren. Now, it was my turn to be puzzled, as none of the children I'd met so far had been anywhere close to an age capable of breeding.

That was when David said, "Oh of course, Ronnie!" Then, he added: "You haven't met my eldest daughter, Rhonda."

What struck me as strange about that wasn't that David didn't remember that I hadn't met Rhonda, but that he seemed to only just then remember that he even had a daughter at all. It was almost as though he didn't consider her to be a daughter. At the time, I simply blamed it on great sex making him absent-minded. Only minutes earlier, David had cum into my pussy two consecutive times.

But, I always had the instinct that something was very wrong about Rhonda.

I searched everywhere for any parties that I felt I could trust. Someone who would investigate my plight and had the resources and skills. I couldn't use just any private investigator . . . I needed to be backed up by someone whom I could tell my story to and let him see it for the injustice it was. I took my time and spent weeks searching . . .

Until I finally found the one.

Someone who hated this sort of injustice . . . this sort of evil . . . as much as I did.

Someone that I knew I could trust.

******

"It's nice to finally have a chance to meet you, Ms. Hasan," Mr. Lowrey said the first time he was able to speak with me face-to-face. Until now, we had only spoken through electronic mail and encrypted voice chat. I came from one of the wealthiest families on Earth, so I understood how confidentiality worked. He didn't even know my real name until roughly two months after we first made contact.

"No, thank you for coming," I told him. "I really needed your help, and I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Well, I'm glad that you came to my client and that my client pointed me to you. Everything you've told me . . . what's happened to you . . . and what's happening in that town . . ." His brow furled. "It disgusts me."

I felt the need to interject. "I don't really care about what's going on everywhere else. All I want is to be with David again."

He breathed a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I know. But . . ." he stopped himself and shrugged. "Never mind. This isn't about what I want. Let's see what we can do for you. No mother should ever be told to walk away without even learning her own baby's name."

My eyes merely fell. I tried to hold back tears. I don't think I did a very good job, because he reached out with a handkerchief.

"Sorry. But don't worry . . . we'll fix this."

"Thank you," I said, accepting his gift. When I had finished cleaning myself up, I said, "So what are we going to do?"

"You're going to just relax and stay safe and out of trouble. Don't stress about anything. Some friends of mine have already made some headway, and eventually we'll get something that you can use."

I nodded. "What have they found?"

"It's the daughter, no doubt," he told me. "Rhonda."




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 06



My suspicions confirmed, I believe that my skin turned pale and my breathing grew thin. "Are you sure?"

"I don't have a single doubt otherwise," he told me. "That girl . . . she's one of the scariest creatures I've ever encountered in my life. She . . . she just doesn't seem human."

"What do you mean?"

"It's difficult to explain, and I have no evidence to support it . . . but, I think she's sort of set herself up as some a 'Queen' of sorts around here. I don't know how she did it, or when, but that's the vibe I feel."

"A queen?"

"Yes. I think she controls this town. The government, the police, the industry . . . everybody."

"Can . . . can you prove it?"

"No . . . there isn't a shred of evidence to be found. But, that's the thing that's so suspicious."

"What?"

"There's a lack of evidence where there should be. Rhonda has had five children, right? So, how come no man steps up to take credit as a father? Yeah, it's possible that she just got knocked up three different times by deadbeats, but that seems uncharacteristically sloppy for an award-winning virologist and supergenius prodigy like Rhonda. Especially since by all accounts, she seems to obsess over money down to the last tenth of a percent of a cent. She seriously does not waste a penny. But, if she could prove paternity—and she's a medical doctor, so she should be well aware of how that works—she could be thousands of dollars richer if she'd only take the deadbeats to court."

I shook my head. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with proving that Rhonda is a crook?"

"Don't you see? Half the things about Rhonda don't make sense. She has hundreds of security systems and surveillance equipment all over that home of hers that have to be worth at least a quarter-million, but not a dime of her traceable income indicates that she bought anything like that. That means she bought it with funds that can't be traced by anyone—not even the government. That means she's got an entire system of finances that we don't know about!

"And as far as the children are concerned . . . haven't you noticed that even with the number of 'boyfriends' she has, she spends more time at home than anywhere else? That she won't let any doctors besides herself treat or even do a casual check-up on her own children?"

I was beginning to dread where this was going. "Mr. Lowrey, what are you saying?! Just who do you think is the father of Rhonda's children!?"

He only looked at me sadly, and then diverted his eyes without speaking.

"No . . . .! David!? Her own father!?"

"Like I said, it's just a hunch, but I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Is . . . is David willingly doing this?"

"From what I can tell? Hell fucking yes. Have you ever noticed the way that he looks at Rhonda? He tries to hide it when other people are around, but it's clear that he has a wandering eye for her. Rhonda herself seems to revel in dressing slutty and teasing her father."

So that was it. Rhonda was David's lover. She was the other woman I'd never known about. She also had to be the "Buyer" that set me up with David in the first place—why, I have no idea, but it didn't matter anymore.

She'd just made the biggest mistake of her life when she pissed me off.

"So what can we do?"

"Well, if we could somehow do a paternity test on one of her children, we could prove who fathered them."

I frowned. "And what would happen to David?"

"Well, the penalty for . . . for, well, incest . . . is severe in this state. David could be facing prison time. As much time as—"

"Then that isn't an option," I replied. "I don't want David to go through anything of the sort. Think of something else."

He sighed again. "I don't have anything else. I didn't even have much of a case there, but Rhonda is a clever bitch and keeps herself looking clean."

So I was stuck. The only lead I had against Rhonda was something that would also destroy David, and possibly his entire family. I didn't think David or his wife were aware of what a monster their daughter truly was, or what she did outside of her work as a doctor. If I took Rhonda down with this, I'd potentially destroy David's life too, and his children would be split apart and shuttled to foster care.

I needed a different plan.

"Mr. Lowrey, you mentioned that Rhonda has had a lot of boyfriends in the past, didn't you?"

"Yes, so?"

"Then I think I may have a plan."

******

-RHONDA-

I was finishing some work in the hospital, checking on patients that had been stricken by the mysterious flu strain that had become all the rage lately. I treated every person I could find, doing my best to find a way to contain, control, and eventually cure the contagion. I was the best virologist for nine states, and I made damn sure people knew as much by the end of the day. The doctors and nurses practically worshipped me, calling me an 'angel sent from heaven'.

Their praise was nice, but the better price were the excellent samples of the flu that I had collected. These would come in handy. Now that I knew their half-life, communicability, and rate of escalation, that meant it was safe enough to use on The Bitch, Daddy, or one of their brats if I ever needed to. I could infect them and then cure them just as easily . . . or I could sit and watch them suffer. It all depended on whether or not they remained obedient.

But, I had just headed to the spare office that the hospital had set for me when a young man entered.

"Dr. Rhonda Scott?"

"Yes?"

"These are yours, ma'am."

I snatched a white envelope out of his hands and tore them open.

Child visitation papers and a demand for a paternity test? Who the fuck would dare!?

I looked at the name: Clay Stevens. I recognized him as one of my "boyfriends". One of the men I'd paid to say he fucked me and keep his mouth shut. Unfortunately, now it seemed that he wanted to extort me for more money.

Clay knew damn well that he wasn't the father of my children, because I wouldn't let that ugly son of a bitch or his cock within ten feet of me. He was useful as a decoy so that people wouldn't know that I was being knocked up by Daddy, but now he was proving to be a nuisance.

Like I said, why couldn't the rest of the world just fuck off and die and leave Daddy and me alone?!

But, fine . . . if he wanted more money, he could have it. I contacted Clay's lawyer and talked him into settling out of court—I would pay him an exorbitant sum just to shut him up and renounce visitation for "his" child. I would even throw in some fake documents saying he'd knocked me up.

In a way, this was actually a good thing. This actually made my cover story more believable.

******

-KATY-

And she took my bait. Like I knew she would.

Oh, I've heard all about how smart Rhonda is. I looked her up online and saw all the awards she'd won—all the honors she'd received. She gained her first degree as a child, and had gone on to earn several more before even being old enough to drink. She was considered to be one of the smartest people on the planet, and everyone felt she was one of the most gifted people of our generation.

Which made her an absolute moron.

Yes, you heard me. A moron.

The problem with being intelligent is that the only thing it does is help you connect dots quicker. The average person sees A and B . . . but a smart person sees A, B, C, D and all the way through P. When you're intelligent, you make faster realizations and reason things at a faster pace than others. It makes you feel comfortable and secure because you see things others don't.

But that's the first rule in chess: you only become smart by playing someone smarter than you. And, if no one is smarter than you are, then you get dumb. Very dumb. Being able to connect dots faster means that all I need to do is show you the dots I want you to see, and then your "smartness" lets you connect them all on your own.

Rhonda's degrees did not impress me. Neither did her fancy awards or her seven-figure job as a medical researcher and virologist. She was merely an obstacle to me. An obstacle between myself, David, and my child.

So, she took my bait. As I knew she would. We were able to pay Mr. Stevens enough for him to go back on his word to Rhonda, and claim to be her first child's father. Rhonda, predictably, chose to go the route that most benefited her, by paying him off a second time.

That meant we had her right where we wanted her.

******

-RHONDA-

Someone was fucking with me.

No sooner than a week after I paid off that idiot Clay than eight more men all stepped forward demanding both visitation and paternity tests for my other children. Eight! I was only pregnant three times . . . four with the one inside me now! They can't all even be the fucking father! And there's no way I can pay them all the same amount of money I paid Clay!

But the problem is, if I turn them all down and prove they're not the fathers, then that means my cover story starts to fall away. Not to mention, my children's genetic information will be processed in the court . . . and with modern medical equipment, it's possible to figure out who the father is even with an inbred child. Sooner or later, it would be possible for someone to put two and two together and figure out that I'd been bearing my own father's children.

So I was completely fucked. Either I spend half a fortune shutting up every one of those clowns, or I screw over everything I worked so hard for.

I spent days tearing my hair out over this. I was only barely in the mood to let Daddy fuck me, but I didn't dare turn him down, because I promised I never would. And if I turned him down, that just meant he'd fuck The Bitch more. So, I let Daddy take my pussy as usual while doing my best to keep him in the dark. I took my frustrations out on The Bitch, instead.

I had never made use of my studded dildo before, but I sure as hell made good use of it that week. I took The Bitch to the same room where I'd made her watch me fuck Daddy and I fucked her in the ass with that studded dildo. I forced her to her knees, and shoved the cock into her mouth, making her choke on it like the dirty little bitch she was. I made her gag, only took it back out when she vomited. I didn't want any of her filth touching me.

Then, I forced her onto all fours, made her spread wide for me, and shoved that dildo up her asshole with one stroke. Oh my god, she howled like such a banshee. I knew that she had never been fucked there before, and I knew she'd expected me to fuck her in the pussy. But no, I wasn't in the mood to let her enjoy this that much. I wanted to stretch that asshole of hers as much as I could. I made damn sure it hurt.

But the problem was, it became less fun the more I did it. After the first couple of times, the filthy Bitch started to enjoy it. "Um, Ronnie, are . . . are you going to fuck me in the ass again?" she asked me, with trembling anticipation.

It was no fun watching her cum again and again while I kept fucking her ass, and eventually I got tired of it. I had no desire at all to see that whore in pleasure.

And then she said something that really got my goat.

"Thank you so much for what you've done, Ronnie," she said. "I convinced David to fuck my ass for the first time last night, and he just barely fit. I think the stretching you gave me really paid off!"

I swear to God, I came this close to stabbing her in the throat with a rusty knife there and then.

******

I needed to know who the hell was ruining my life. I didn't believe that all of those guys suddenly grew a set of balls overnight, so that meant someone was trying to get my attention. I reinstated several of my old web handles and email addresses so that whoever was trying so hard to get my attention would find it much easier.

Eventually, I finally received the message I was waiting for.

"So, are you ready to renegotiate yet?"

It was that slut, Katy.

"You know you're dead, right, Bitch? I gave you the chance to walk away, and now you've pissed that away."

"Oh, no. You don't scare me. I know who you really are, Ms. Rhonda Scott."

I angrily typed back. "So what? You want a medal for figuring it out? One would look pretty on your corpse."

"No. I just want the same thing I always wanted. I want to be with David. I want to be with him and our son."

"And what the hell makes you think you have any leverage on me? I could tell the whole world what sort of fun little things a Saudi princess likes to do in her spare time. Or, did you not realize that I knew who you were too, bitch?"

"Go ahead. My family is worth billions. That story would get quashed before it even made the news. On the other hand, I think you would have a much harder time recovering from the world finding out that a world-renowned virologist has been blackmailing her father in a relationship for years, and that she has five children by him. Or that she paid men to cover up the whole affair. Or that she embezzles millions of dollars from banks a year."

That bitch! How the hell did she find that out!? How could she possibly know about that!?

No, it was a bluff. It had to be.

"Your family would cut you loose. Yeah, rich Saudi families like to have their fun, but when it starts making their image look bad, that's when princesses lose their fancy titles."

"Yes, but I still haven't broken any laws. You have. You're the one who will go to prison for a long time, considering all the things you've done. You, David, everyone. Everyone except me and my child. When David would be arrested, and you all lose everything you own, my child will go back to his mother. And even without my family supporting me, I'll at least have him."

I hated this girl more than I hated anyone in my entire life. Even The Bitch . . . and I didn't even think that was possible.

"Okay, fine. Let's hear what you want."

"I already said it. I want to resume seeing David. You won't have to pay me anymore. I will gladly let him fuck me and give me his children."

"Deal. But, if you fuck with me again, you're dead."

"I knew you'd come to your senses eventually, Rhonda. Thank you very much for your business."

When I was done, I picked up one of my monitors from the stand and threw it to the floor. I stomped around on the mesh of wires, metal and plastic until my heels broke and the soles of my feet grew sore. I had just lost my perfect family. I had just let another woman come between me and Daddy again!

 Why!? Why did this keep happening to me?! I just wanted to be with Daddy! What was so wrong about that!?

Eventually, I sat down and got a grip. I forced my arms, my hands, and my knees to stop shaking. I had to remember who was in control. I had to remember that I was the genius. Not her. She was a clever bitch . . . I'd give her that . . . but I could play the slow and steady game.

First, I needed to know a few things . . . such as who had tipped her off to my plans.

Even with her money and resources, there was no way in hell that stupid little bitch could have figured this all out by herself. She had help, and I needed to know who.

The first step was figuring out where she had spent her money. I checked with the Saudi banks, where the rich Saudi families liked to do business. I eventually found a huge amount of cash that had been wired from Saudi straight to a township nearby.

Within a few days, I'd figured out where she'd spent the money and who she'd called most often. Most of the calls went to Los Angeles County in California, to an area code that had only recently been instated. That told me that whoever she was speaking to had to be wealthy . . . almost as wealthy as she was.

A week went by, and I finally had a breakthrough. I figured out who lived in that area, so I knew who her mysterious friend was . . . but they were remarkably well-encrypted. I was right about him being wealthy. He had recently jumped from a multi-millionaire to a billionaire worth at least $11 billion US dollars. He was also well known for an extremely extravagant lifestyle, and for being extremely private about his life. Absolutely nothing about what went on in his life was public.

Which meant he had things to hide.

I could destroy the asshole. And by doing so, I would eliminate any leverage that Arabian bitch had on me.

So I got myself a nice cup of hot chocolate, settled down at my computer, and began to read. I poured through pages of information and data like a good bedtime story. I absorbed numbers and data. Places and dates. Every little secret was opening up to me.

Soon, I knew everything I needed to know about you . . .

. . . Mr. Barry Garrett.

To Be Continued . . .



Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 07



Sorry again for the late chapter everyone. I'm sure you're tired of my excuses by now, so I'll just skip them. I'll just let you enjoy the chapter you've been waiting so long for. :)

New readers beware: this is the seventh installment of my Daddy's Little Psychopath series. Chapter One can be found here, Chapter Two can be found here, Chapter Three can be found here and Chapter Four can be found here, Chapter Five can be found here, and Chapter Six can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, mother-daughter incest, rough sex, and reluctance. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

Please, please, please leave a comment below. I can't stress enough how much feedback helps me write. I do read all of your comments and emails, even though I can't respond to them all.

******

-RHONDA-

It made me sick to see how happy Daddy was to have his little Arab fuck slave back. I wasn't there to see it in person, thank God, but when I watched the footage, I counted roughly 12 seconds elapsing between them hugging at the door and his cock pounding her pussy in the bedroom. Daddy just dragged her through the house, tore her clothes off and threw her to the bed. She didn't say a word in objection or even try to resist. She let Daddy have her any way he wanted. She let him cum in her pussy and begged him for more because she wasn't sure he'd gotten her pregnant yet.

God, I hate that Whore. I didn't think I would ever hate anything more than The Bitch, but she managed to surprise even me. In a way, it's almost funny. I'll be sure to have a good laugh about it someday . . . after I beat her face in with a shovel.

Her time was coming. Even as I sat in my Control Room, watching the surveillance monitors and cameras I had installed across every inch of my home, I had plans. I'd make sure the little slut knew what happened when you crossed me.

******

-EILEEN-

David was so happy to see Katy again. I don't think I'd ever seen him smile like that . . . not since the day I said 'Yes' as he slipped the ring on my finger or when he found out I was pregnant with our first child. I knew he liked Katy, but this went beyond just personal fondness. He didn't treat her like the other girls. He didn't even treat her like Ronnie or me—he was obsessive over Katy . . . controlling. He treated her like a servant more than a lover . . . and Katy was just happy to please him. It would have been really cute . . . if this weren't my husband I were seeing.

Fortunately, David eventually stopped fucking her in our . . . my . . . bedroom. Unfortunately, he converted his reading room into a second bedroom for her. I wondered how Ronnie felt about that, since the house was technically hers, but she never seemed to care. Whenever I saw Ronnie, it was business as usual: fucking David at any opportunity and ignoring me as much as possible.

Thinking about all this, I sighed and checked my pregnancy test again. Nothing.

I was still only 45, and as far as I knew, my biological clock was ticking fine. My doctors said that I was still probably a few years away from menopause, and I would be able to conceive. If I ever conceived. Unfortunately, all my life, I've had what doctors referred to as "poor egg quality". David and I had tried for 13 months straight before I got pregnant with Rhonda, and it took almost a full year before we had William. Worse yet, my medical condition only worsened with age. I had no idea when . . . or if . . . I would ever get pregnant again . . . but David wanted me to. It was risky for a woman at my age, and my doctors had urged me to get my tubes tied . . . but David wanted a baby from me.

Why did I even want one? I don't know . . . I guess I just wanted to please "my" David. Well . . . he's not "mine", really. Not anymore. Seven weeks ago, David got Ronnie pregnant again. Two weeks after that, it was the Thai girl, Papao. Then the East Indian girl, Poojintha. After that, the Czech girl, Ivana. And, of course, he was really, really trying hard to put another one in Katy. And it's gotten even worse since he lost his job. This was his job now. David was putting babies in sexy young women like he was some sort of pregnancy vending machine.

I still didn't understand—where did Ronnie find all of these girls? Where had they all come from, and why were they all foreigners? Why did they want David's babies so badly? Some of them didn't even speak a word of English! I had the feeling that there was something terrible going on . . . that we were all party to something horrible. Like everything about Ronnie, though, I couldn't prove any of it . . . so I just kept it to myself. Every night, though, I prayed that God would keep us safe.

Everything about my "new life" left me so conflicted. The new David . . . I hated him, but I wanted him so much. When David would fuck me, I never wanted it to end. It was so rough, so physical and so passionate. I wanted him to keep using me. David would tear my clothes off of me. He would bend me over whenever he felt like and fuck me there. He would push me on my back and put my legs on his shoulders. He would fuck me strongly, and bite my tits like an animal. He spanked me until my ass was burning with his handprint. He pulled my hair until the roots almost felt like they would tear. He would keep pounding into me the whole time, fucking me like I'd never been fucked before. Fucking me with the strength and energy of a man half his age.

But eventually, it would be over. And when nighttime came, I slept in my bed alone. David was a better lover than I'd ever known, but I had to share him now.

God help me, I don't know how to fix this. I want to have my husband back . . . but I don't want to give up this incredible feeling. It's a selfish contradiction, but I can't help myself. The other girls make me feel so weak and stupid and helpless and ugly . . . but David makes me feel amazing. I don't know how to give up one without the other! And Ronnie would never let me divorce David—she would never risk letting me go! No matter how much I worried or thought or prayed, I just didn't see a way out.

And every day, I slipped closer toward just giving up.

One night, Katy came out of "her" room dressed in nothing but one of David's t-shirts. Sweat covered her whole body from head-to-toe, making the fabric stick to her shapely body whenever she moved. I could even see her perky, healthy nipples poking through the front. She was practically floating as she meandered through my home, heading to the kitchen for what I could only assume was a mid-fuck-snack. She didn't notice me at all, even though I was less than twenty feet away, burning into her with my eyes.

I could hear her in the kitchen for several minutes, moving things, rustling through my neat cabinets for God-knows-what. Whatever she was doing was making an ugly racket, so I lifted myself from my seat and stalked her into the kitchen.

"Um . . . can I help you?"

She finally broke from her daze and her head whipped around to look at me. Even with her heavy makeup smudged and weathered from sweat, she was still crazy gorgeous. I hated that. Why was every girl having sex with my husband so much younger and prettier than me?! I was sure, in my earlier years, I could have given them a run for their money—but 24 years and four kids later . . . I didn't stand a chance.

"Oh, hello," she said sweetly. "I'm sorry. I was just looking for some sort of beer. David said that he would like one."

She turned back around and bent over to look deeper into the fridge. David's shirt pushed up on her thighs just slightly, and I was able to get a glimpse of his thick, silvery seed seeping down her thighs. Globs of it. It was absolutely obscene . . . there was so much of it leaking from the girl's pussy that there was no doubt what David was trying to do with her.

Well, it wasn't like I didn't know that anyway. Straight from the horse's mouth, David had told me. The only thing he cared about now was making babies . . . and using young womens' bodies for that purpose had become his passion—his obsession.

Did this girl even know who David was now? Did she know that Rhonda was just using her as a means to an end? She was just a tool to keep my husband brainwashed. To keep his mind so addicted to pleasure that he would never even think of questioning our daughter.

"Oh, I've found it!" she exclaimed, removing herself from the fridge and producing a tall can of Miller. "Thank you so much for your help!"

I was stunned. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Thanks? For what? I didn't do anything."

She smiled and began to sashay closer to me, kicking the fridge closed behind her. "Oh, I think you being here made me think a little clearer. I came here a bit light-headed after . . . well . . . after such a busy afternoon."

I guess she stopped herself from saying, 'After fucking your husband for four and a half hours straight.' Somehow, the attempt to spare my feelings only made me feel even worse.

"Well, now you've got what you wanted. So I guess you can go back to trying to fuck David to death," I said, heated.

She smiled at me. But not in the way I expected. Not in triumph or in contempt. Not with the malicious intent to destroy what was left of my marriage.

Instead, she only smiled at me with genuine joy and then said, "That would be selfish, wouldn't it?"

Then, she disappeared into the bedroom again and the door shut behind her. Roughly ten minutes later, the bed began creaking. Two minutes after that, the moaning started.

******

"She's going to destroy us, you know."

Startled, I spun and saw Rhonda standing in the doorway, wearing her favorite robe.

"R-Ronnie . . .?" I stammered. "What . . . what are you . . .?"

"I spent thirteen years planning everything to the letter. I had it all so perfect. I knew how to make Daddy happy. I knew how I could finally win the man of my dreams. And I knew how I could finally punish you. To make you pay penance for your colossally misguided mistakes."

I couldn't look her in the eyes. Once again, the shame washed over me. I knew what she was talking about—the moment which still haunted me to this day. She knew how much it hurt to be reminded of it. She knew how much pain it had caused me over the years and how desperate I'd always been to make up for it.

Everything Rhonda was doing to me now . . . Everything that had happened to my family . . . I'd caused from my own actions.

"We were all happy, weren't we? Daddy was so happy—you could see it in his eyes. I was so happy . . . ."

She touched her belly. Even though it didn't show much now, David's child was growing there as we spoke.

"And you were happy, too, weren't you? You find this as kinky as Daddy and I do, don't you?"

Despite myself, I felt a twinge of lust at the thought. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I had to admit that seeing our daughter pregnant with my husband's child turned me on. Rhonda's body was immaculate—she was a perfect hourglass, with as wide and curvaceous as her amazing bust. Her tummy was toned and fit, with nary a hint of ugly fat. Her legs were long, lithe and slender—just as David liked them, and she always wore the same heeled slippers to show them off.

I still couldn't believe she had ever come out of my body.

What happened that made me get shafted by the genetics in this family? My mother, David's mother, and Ronnie were all still gorgeous to this day. Why was I the only one struggling with her weight, or using makeup to hide her crows' feet? Why did the "hotness" gene skip me and go straight to Rhonda? It wasn't fair!

Still, Rhonda was a sight to behold. I no longer had any compulsions about admitting it. In fact, I could even admit that Rhonda had finally helped me realize my bi-curiosity. Even now, the only reason I was disappointed to see Ronnie was because she didn't have her studded dildo with her. God, she always knew how to fuck me with it until I hollered and screamed like a banshee.

But when I looked down at her crotch, she was bare. Ronnie, of course, picked up on it. She smiled at me. Slowly, Rhonda's nubile body existed the door way. Slowly, her hip swayed and her heels clicked on the floor as she stepped closer. Eventually, she stood next to me . . . so close that I could feel her heat. The folds of her robe had fallen aside, letting me get a view of my daughter's breasts. They were ripening so well . . . slowly swelling with milk for my grandchild.

Ronnie gently reached up and slipped her finger into my mouth. I suckled on it gently, instinctively licking and coating it with my own saliva. In the meantime, Ronnie's other hand had pushed away my tight leggings, making them fall down to my knees, leaving me in my bright, soaked panties. Ronnie's nails scratched roughly against the soft cheeks of my rear, and traveled slowly up my spine. It felt like lightning shoot up from the small of my back.

I was already under her spell. My eyes were closed, and my arms had fallen limp. I let my daughter do whatever she wished with me. It hurt, but in a good way. I knew Ronnie hated me, but she knew how to perfectly blend pleasure with the pain. My nipples were hard, and my breasts perky . They reached out from my chest as if drawn to my daughter's rack. I wanted to press my tits against hers. I wanted to feel her body against mine.

Ronnie slipped her finger out, letting a trail of shimmering spit fall from my lips. Her hand slowly rolled down my belly, both tickling my tummy and making my heart race with excitement.

Finally, I felt two of Rhonda's fingers gently slip into her mother's pussy.

"I assume that you're hoping I'll fuck you again," she said as she gently fingered my pussy.

Embarrassed, I didn't answer. I only moaned as my hips ground against my daughter's fingers, gushing loads of cum all over them.

Then, just as quickly as it started, Rhonda pulled away. Her fingers were still gooey with my juices, and my pussy was aching to be played with.

"No . . .! Please, Ronnie! Don't stop!"

"Well, blame her," she said, indicating the next room, filled by the ecstatic screams of the youthful Katy. "If she doesn't go, we may never have an opportunity like this again."

I swallowed. "What . . . what do you mean, Ronnie?"

She gave me a familiar look. The 'Are-You-Stupid?' Look. She had been using it on me ever since she was four.

"In case you haven't forgotten, the three of us: you, me, and Daddy, are all committing a felony. The three of us are all related by blood." She again nodded toward the bedroom. "But her? She's different. This is all fun to her. It's just a game. She can have as much fun as she wants with us. She can destroy our entire family and walk away unscathed. Then everyone loses—you, me, Daddy—and all of our children."

My heart paced wildly. I hadn't considered it—I had just become so used to Ronnie being in control that I thought that there was no way we could get caught. Ronnie was so smart . . . so brilliant. She had planned everything so perfectly. She, David and I could fuck as much as we wanted and no one would ever find out.

But now, with this girl around . . .

Ronnie saw that I was starting to understand. She smiled at me, knowingly. I think, just for that instant, she didn't think of me as an idiot.

"I made a mistake bringing her around. She's more trouble than she's worth, and now I have to get rid of her without being conspicuous."

I swallowed. "G-get r-rid of her?"

Ronnie's expression remained blank. She simply looked me in the eye and asked me:

"If you had to . . . could you kill her?"

"K-Kill . . .?!" I nearly fainted. "I don't think I could . . . I don't know how to . . ."

"I'm not telling you to do it," Ronnie continued. "I'm only asking if you could. Even if you hate me, would you do it to protect your husband? Your children? Your grandchildren?!"

My babies . . . all of them were precious to me. Even the grandchildren David had made with Ronnie. Even the ones he had made with other women . . . they were all so innocent. I could never let anything happen to them.

"I . . . I don't know. I . . . I suppose if I had no choice . . . to . . . to save my family . . . "

She smiled at me. The look in her eye . . . I don't think I'd seen anything like it in years. She waltzed up to me, her beautiful hips swaying ever so gently. Her fingers gently caressed my cheek, and then she leaned over to give me a loving kiss.

Then softly, she said: "Thank you, Mommy. That's all I needed to know."

******

Ronnie had given me lots to think about. I spent the rest of the night stewing it over in my mind. I was so deep in thought that I barely even heard the moans, screams and grunts in the bedroom. If I had been, I would have noticed from the sounds David was making that he'd just cum inside Katy again. That would mean it was time for another break.

She came out of the room once more. This time, much less floaty and much more sore. Her pussy lips were swollen and inflamed, and she had even more of David's juice dripping from between her legs.

I cast one look at her, frowned, and then turned back to my magazine.

". . . So I assume you don't approve?" I heard her ask.

Instead of brushing it off, I responded reflexively.

"What, you think I should be supportive of my husband screwing another woman and trying to knock her up? That she spends more time with her than she does with me?!"

She didn't frown at me. She didn't have any strong reaction at all. I think my response was something she had been expecting. Waiting for, even.

"I see. I did not know this arrangement was not to your liking. After our original meetings, I thought you were much more willing to see me with David. You enjoyed our first sessions so much."

I had almost forgotten that the first four times David and Katy had sex, I had been involved with them. Originally, David's "affairs" had started as threesomes, and David and I would meet with the girls together. Ronnie was taping us together—using it as leverage. It was her ace-in-the-hole, if David and I ever betrayed her.

But then, David changed. He began seeing most of the girls on his own. Katy was his favorite, by a mile. He had grown quite fond of her, and her willingness to completely submit to him. With Rhonda, David could never be in control, and with me, David still held back a little. Katy, however, would do anything David asked her to do without any reservations. As meek and sensitive as David had once been, in his middle age, he was starting to relish the power. He was becoming more assertive . . . more conquering.

I had forgotten Katy wouldn't know about any of that. She wouldn't have known what our home was like before she and the other girls showed up. Or what David had been like before all of this.

She wouldn't know how much she'd taken away from me. From all of us.

"I'm sorry," I said, even though I truly didn't want to apologize. "Forget I said anything. Just . . . just do what you've got to do and go back into the bedroom. David is waiting for you." I turned back to my magazine.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 07



"Wait, please," she called to me. "I do not wish to end our talk this way. I have been wishing to speak to you for some time now, and I do not wish to make a horrible impression."

Curious, I turned. "You've . . . been wanting to talk . . . to me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes!"

"What . . . what could you possibly want from me?"

"To be your friend, of course!" she said happily. "I have long wanted to speak to you, First Wife. To learn about the first woman who managed to win David's heart."

I blinked. "I'm sorry . . . what . . . what did you call me?"

"'First Wife'," she told me. "It is a term of respect. In my family, the first wives of the husband are treated with reverence, and looked to as advisors and leaders. As David's newest, it is my job to learn from you and be of help to you."

I was dumbfounded. What was this girl on about, exactly!? What the hell was her game?

"Well . . . contrary to the way it appears, David still only has one wife," I answered smugly, showing her my ring.

"I know," she sighed. "Believe me that I wish it were not so. But, maybe if I am successful, that can be changed."

"Successful?" So Rhonda was right—she did have a scheme!

"Yes. I am hoping . . . someday . . . for David to join Islam."

That finally did it. I guffawed, loudly. "Oh yeah? Well, you've got a bit of a problem there, then. David is Agnostic, but he was raised in an Eastern Orthodox family. I'm Baptist. I've had arguments with David for years about our religious differences, and I still can get him to step within twenty feet of a church."

At those words, she merely nodded and smiled. "It was not meant for you to convert him, then. Perhaps Allah will allow me more success."

That did it. I just couldn't take any more of this girl. I suppose after years of being party to his affair with Ronnie, I had just come to expect something a little different. I was used to bitterness and insults and aggression. I was used to being told that I was trash and that David didn't love me. I was used to smirks and evil laughter. I wasn't used to this. Whatever the hell this girl was doing. At least with Ronnie, I knew where I stood. Ronnie hated me, and she loved to humiliate me. But as long as I did what she told me, and let her have David like she wanted, my life was normal.

But it was like Ronnie had said. This girl was dangerous! She was trying to change everything—she wanted David to herself. She wanted him to convert to her religion, and then probably run off to Afghanistan or someplace!

She was an even worse threat than Ronnie.

"Look, girl. You can do whatever the hell you want with my husband. Right now, I can't do a damn thing about it. But don't think that I have any interests in being friends with you. As far as I'm concerned, David will one day get tired of you, like he does the other girls he fucks and knocks up . . . and the only memory left of you will be whatever kids he's had you make for him."

Her eyes turned narrow and resolute. She gazed straight at me, without a hint of wavering.

"I will make sure that doesn't happen. I love David, and I will be sure to remain faithful and true to him no matter what. I will prove to him that I am his, and his alone. Forever, if he will have me." Once again, she began to wander off.

As she walked past me, I was compelled to cry out, "I don't get it. Why do you love him?! I just don't understand it. What has David given you? What does he do that makes you feel so in love with him!?"

She stopped in her tracks for a moment. I think my question finally hit her somewhere. It took her several moments to turn and look in my direction, her silvery eyes looking into mine as she answered.

"He . . . he looks exactly like my father."

"What . . .?"

"Yes, I admit it. Ever since I was a little girl, I was brought up to be something special for my father. He did not want just another proper Saudi princess. He wanted something unique from me—that is why he raised me in both the ways of Saudi and of the rest of the world. I enjoy more freedom and privacy than any of my other sisters, and Father took a keen interest in me as I grew older.

"Unfortunately, he never told me what he wanted from me. He died two years ago, before I could return to Saudi to see him. That fact has always haunted me."

"What . . . what do you think he might have wanted from you?"

"I do not know. But, I have thought about it often . . . and in thinking of it, the only answer that I came up with was not what Father probably wanted me to be, but what I would have liked to be."

I waited for her answer.

"I would have liked to have become one of Father's wives."

I nearly choked. "Are . . . are you serious?"

"My father was an extremely handsome man, as you can tell just by looking at your husband. David is the spitting image of my father, although he is shaven. Every time I look at him, I see my father's eyes looking toward me, admiring my body, showing approval or disapproval for what I've done and who I am. When I do something to please David, I hear my father's voice praising me. Telling me that I am worthy of him."

"My God . . . you're . . . you're just like—!"

She tilted her head, waiting for me to continue. "Hm? I'm just like . . . what?"

If I hadn't known better, I would have almost thought she knew what to expect. Like she was just waiting for me to say something she already know.

"Nothing. I just . . . I just think that's a little crazy is all. It's a crazy reason to be in love with anyone."

Her shoulders lifted. "Perhaps. But it is honest."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I have to leave. This is just . . . too weird for me."

"Very well," Katy nodded. "I hope we can speak again sometime . . . First Wife."

******

-RHONDA-

Of course, I was listening to their whole little chat. It was actually disgustingly adorable. The Whore was trying so hard to reach out to The Bitch as a friend, but there was no chance of that.

I had planted the seed of doubt.

Divide et impera. Or, for those of you simpletons who don't know Latin, "Divide and conquer". It wouldn't do me any good to have allowed that Arab bitch to get my mother on her side, so I had to make sure that The Bitch saw her as an even bigger threat than me. Katy and I . . . we're a lot alike, I admit. We're both young, sexy, and eager to give Daddy everything he wants. I'll even admit that Katy is clever . . . far more clever than I could have thought for a girl who never finished college.

But only one of us is a genius.

This was truly one of my greatest accomplishments. Despite all of the abuse, the spite, and the pain I've caused The Bitch, the gullible sheep still trusted my word. All I had to do was show her something she feared more than me, and she would believe anything I had to say. Thanks to Katy, the Bitch would think of me as her friend. She'd see me as the only stabilizing element in her life, and anything which upset the balance of power would be an enemy. This was the power of Stockholm Syndrome at its finest.

Now, I didn't have to do a thing to either of those bimbos. I could simply sit back and let natural selection take its course. In the meantime, I could turn my attention to a far more difficult opponent: Katy's mysterious friend in LA.

He would be getting a rather nasty surprise himself, any day now.

******

-DAVID-

I was fired from my job after the sixth day in two months I No-Called-No-Showed. I'd had that job for twelve years, and I'd put thousands of hours of my life into it. By getting fired, I'd lost my pension plan, my health insurance, and the minor perks and benefits.

So did I regret it?

Well . . . each of the days I missed work, I was spending my hours in bed with at least one incredibly sexy women—sometimes more. When I could have been sitting behind my desk, going over sales reports, meeting with stupid clients, and putting up with the ineptitude of my coworkers, I was instead buried between some woman's legs, shooting my load into her womb, making her beg me to make her pregnant. Instead of a stuffy office, I was working hard in a slut's cunt. I knocked up three extremely gorgeous and exotic women: an Asian, an Indian, and a Slav. I made them pregnant with my baby. I played and tasted racks and asses out of this world. And in the two months that followed, I got to fuck them all while I watched their bellies start to stretch with my child.

So, let me ask you: do you think I regret any of it?

It was just like Ronnie promised me. I didn't need to work anymore. I didn't need to shop anymore. I didn't need to do anything anymore. Ronnie took care of me. She took care of all of us. We were filthy rich. A couple times, I asked where Ronnie got all of her money from, but she would only giggle and tell me not to think about it. I've finally started to listen to her. I've learned not to think hard about anything anymore. I trust Ronnie. She'll take care of Daddy, like a good girl. And in return, I'll keep her fucked. I'll make sure her pussy is put to good use.

Ronnie and I ate lunch together in the afternoon. Afterwards, she sat in my lap, and the two of us gently and lovingly necked while she showed me the new crop of sluts she'd picked out for me.

"This one is Samoan," she told me, gently nibbling my ear. "How do you like her, Daddy?"

I looked at the beautiful specimen in the picture—such perfect, C-cup breasts. Juicy pink lips. Long, wavy black hair. And honey-tanned skin. She was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.

I wanted her. I wanted her so badly.

"If you want her, she's yours, Daddy," Ronnie moaned. "Just say the word and I can have her here tomorrow. She'll be delivered straight to our door, and you can fuck her all you want. Wouldn't she look gorgeous with a big tummy, Daddy? Don't you want to see what your precious little half-Samoan baby would look like?"

The combination of Ronnie's hips wriggling on my crotch, her wet, slick tongue inching into my ear, and the imagery she was seeding in my mind drove me nuts. I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to help myself. I just wanted to give in. Things were always better when I gave in to Ronnie.

"Yes, baby. She would. I . . . I want her, Ronnie."

Ronnie smiled at me lustfully. Gently, she kissed me on my lips. "Whatever you want, Daddy. Anything you need. I'll give you everything."

I licked my lips. "Ronnie, baby, I need you."

Ronnie only gazed at me with those dark, sexy eyes of hers, gently sliding a finger between her wet red lips and suckling it until it glistened with moistness.

"What do you need, Daddy?" she asked me in a sweet, servile tone. She slid that wet finger over her clit to try and guide my answer to what she knew we both wanted.

I was uncontrollably horny. I pushed my pants to my ankles and let my stiff cock breathe. Ronnie's eyes dashed downward hungrily—glancing at my cock with a hunger I never got tired of seeing.

"Do you want me to suck your cock, Daddy?" my little girl asked me in the sweetest voice.

"Yes, baby. I want you to suck Daddy's cock right now."

Ronnie slid from the chair and fell to her knees, crawling like a brazen slut drawn directly to my cock. I could see the cleavage of her fantastic, swollen tits from the top of her blouse as she came closer. I couldn't help but admire my daughter's body wholesale . . . such as the way her ass swayed gently when she moved on all fours.

Without hesitation, Ronnie moaned and slid my cock between her lips, taking it into her mouth easily and readily. She didn't suck my cock often . . . I usually needed to put it into her cunt as quickly as possible . . . but the view of watching my daughter suck my erect dick only drove me crazy every time. Why hadn't I thought of this first, all those years ago? Why hadn't I realized that with a daughter as beautiful as mine, I deserved to have my cock in her mouth? I had been such a fool all those years ago. I had forced my poor baby to rape me to get what we both needed, when I should have just claimed her pussy the moment she turned eighteen like a real man was supposed to.

Thank God Ronnie had more sense than I did. Thank God she had always known what I really wanted.

My eyes almost rolled into my head, and my brain stopped several times over while Ronnie's magic mouth went to work on my cock. Her lips, her throat muscles, her tongue . . . Ronnie had turned a blowjob down to a perfect science. I don't know how much time it took her to learn . . . my baby was a genius, so it probably wasn't long . . . but she had figured out the perfect way to bring me close to orgasm, and then let the heart rate taper off just enough to keep me from shooting my load. Then, she would go at it again, keeping me on the tip of ecstasy for as long as I needed.

God, she was just so PERFECT at this stuff.

"Mmmm, Ronnie, baby . . . Daddy loves everything you do. You treat my cock so good, sweetheart."

Ronnie popped my cock out of her mouth to speak. "Of course, Daddy. I love you. I will always keep you happy, as long as you want. You know that."

"Then lay down and spread for me, honey. Daddy needs to be in your pussy right now."

Without another word, Ronnie fell back and pulled her knees back, hiking the hem of her skirt up to give me a perfect view of her pussy. She didn't wear underwear anymore . . . I wouldn't let her. I needed to be able to slide my cock into her whenever I needed it.

In seconds, my naked body was on top of hers, and I was thrusting into her with everything I had. I wasn't even worried about the baby inside her—Ronnie's body could take it. I just needed to bring her to shuddering orgasms.

"Oh, oh God, Daddy! Just like that! Fuck me harder! Harder please, Daddy!"

I fucked her as though I was angry. I pounded her pussy to punish it. To punish it for daring to turn me on this much. For daring to need my fresh cum inside it.

Ronnie was gone in seconds, screaming and climaxing all over the floor.

"Yeeeeesssss! God, Daddy! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

I fucked her until everything just became a blur. I know I came inside of her, but everything before and after was just a mix of sweat, sex and heavy breath.

******

-RHONDA-

"I love you, Ronnie," Daddy told me as he gently turned my head to face him. He pressed his lips to mine, and we nibbled one-another's tongues. Daddy's cock was still buried inside me, and he ground his hips into my soft, plush rear. His long hard shaft was filling me in every way imaginable. I let my strong, sexy father take me as he wished, silently longing for him to finish with a load of his juicy semen in my waiting cunt.

He was mine. No one would ever take this from me. I had worked hard for it my entire life. Ever since I was eleven, I had been waiting to be Daddy's woman. He was the only man that could ever make me happy—the only one that appreciated my genius. I would kill anyone who got between us. I'd destroy their entire life, and make them wish they'd never been born.

Hearing him tell me how much he loved me . . . not just as a daughter, but as a woman and a lover . . . it only strengthened my resolve. I needed to be rid of the rest of these skanks. I needed to have them out of my life forever. I could just murder them all, of course . . . but that would be too simple and too easy. There were too many ways it could go wrong. I could probably use my contacts to do a coverup of some sort, but I hate relying on other people. I got as far was on my own, and all I needed was time to think.

Fortunately, Daddy's strong fucking only reminded me what I was fighting for. Even as his cock sawed in and out of my wet pussy, I lost myself in the pleasure. I took one of Daddy's hands into my own and slid it down to my belly, where his . . . our . . . child was growing. My sixth one for him. The sixth perfect baby I would make for Daddy, and certainly not to be our last. Daddy's cock was made to impregnate me, and I was born to give them to him. I don't expect anyone else to understand our love, or my feelings, but this was the reality.

The Whore, Katy, would undo all of that. I wouldn't let her steal Daddy's sperm to make more of her inhuman abominations. I knew it made Daddy happy, making such pathetic babies from the lesser women, but he was innocently ignorant. He was far beyond controlling himself. I had done almost too good a job of brainwashing him.

Slowly, but surely, I had destroyed Daddy's self-control. It made him easy to dominate, but at great cost. Because of me, Daddy was addicted to pussy. And I was fine with that, because he knew I was the one who could give it to him. Every man on Earth would jump at the chance to live Daddy's life. All he had to do was love me, fuck me, fuck any other woman I told him to, and knock all of us up. There isn't a man alive who wouldn't want that, and I was the only woman that could fulfill that fantasy.

I am Daddy's woman. Period. I only allow the Bitch to blunder about in my home because cuckqueaning her amuses me. But, I will not be some other bitch's cuckquean! It will NOT fucking happen. If I have to, I'll slice her face apart with a cheese grater. I'll tie her to a tree and watch her face make friends with a lawnmower. Then, we'll see how pretty she is. And we'll see how much Daddy still likes her.

But, I am not a common thug. I prefer patience. Let her have her little fun for a while. Let Daddy enjoy having his pet Whore around. Let her have another fugly baby. If nothing else, it'll make Daddy happy. But when my plan comes to fruition, I can be rid of her. At the least, the Whore will be gone forever. But, if I'm really lucky, I can have both her and The Bitch out of my life permanently, and not even lift a finger.

Either way, I will win.

******

-EILEEN-

Something really weird happened today.

There I was in the living room, doing sit-ups and my daily exercises, when suddenly, my bra popped loose. I didn't think anybody was around, so I just finished my sets, hoping to fix it after I was done. No sooner had I done my last toe-touch when I suddenly felt someone kneel behind me, gently putting my bra back as it should be.

"What . . . what do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to be of help to you," she told me as I felt the bra snap back in place. "There. Now you are decent again."

I didn't meet her gaze. I just stood from the mat and reached for my towel. "Thanks, I guess."

I started to leave. She just stayed on the floor, looking away sheepishly.

"You . . . you truly do not like me . . . do you?"

"I'm not eager to be friendly with you, at the very least. I told you before; you're just a distraction for David. Nothing more. Eventually, he'll get tired of you like the other girls. I don't see a reason I should get to know you."

She sighed. "I suppose that I will simply have to prove to you that this will not happen. David and I love each other."

Again, her words made my skin crawl. "And why is that any better for me?! Why would I give a damn if that's true . . . that my husband loves another woman!? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel!? To know that there are things you can give my husband that I can't!?"

I was beginning to cry. I think all of my frustration and pain finally caught up with me right then. Usually, when I felt this way, David would be nearby, and he would fuck me and make me feel better. But right now, he was off with Ronnie. Giving her what used to be mine.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 07



Just then, I felt Katy's lips come close to my ear. "I know about Rhonda," she whispered.

My eyes went wide, and my skin broke in a cold sweat. I turned to look at her, and she gazed back with a wicked grin, like someone who knew the secrets of the universe. I didn't have a doubt in mind she meant what she said, but I tried to play dumb anyway.

"My daughter? What do you know about her?"

"First Wife . . . Eileen . . . please . . . do not treat me like a simple-minded child. If we are going to discuss this, let's do so as adults. We may not have a chance like this for some time, so we must make the best of it."

She was crazy! If she knew a thing about Ronnie, she knew how this was suicidal! She knew that there was no way that this conversation could ever happen! Not without Ronnie finding out! Not without consequences!

She grabbed my hand gently as I turned to leave. "I'm sorry . . . I . . . I don't know what you mean. Please, just leave me alone."

"Eileen . . . just calm down. I'm begging you to talk to me. I am not your enemy. I only want to help you." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Despite what she may have led you to believe, Rhonda is not invincible. But, the more she stays in control, the more you allow her to dominate you, the more in danger we all are. If we work together, we can stop her."

Stop her? Stop Rhonda!? No . . . it was impossible. David had tried. He'd tried to warn me . . . to help me get away . . . but Rhonda had known about it. She'd heard everything. She had bugs, cameras and spies everywhere! There wasn't any escaping her.

"Who do you think you are!?" I snapped at her. "You think you're better than us? That you're smarter than Ronnie!? You think you can just waltz into our lives and just fix everything!? Look, you little tramp . . . I don't know who you are, or where you came from, but I'm not going to have any part of this! As much as Ronnie hates me, she protects us! She's been the only thing keeping this family going for years! And I'm not going to let you come in and destroy us!"

I turned to leave, marching away from her as fast as I could. As I reached the door, I stopped to look at her one last time. "And do NOT call me 'Eileen' or 'First Wife' or any of that other nonsense. I'm Mrs. Scott. I'm the ONLY Mrs. Scott in this house! You got that?!"

Her eyes met to floor. Satisfied, I swung the door open. "You just do what you do best. Nanny our kids and spread your pussy when my husband asks you to. " As I walked out of the room, I made sure I slammed the door as hard as I could.

I walked away realizing that Ronnie was right the whole time. This girl was a threat.

She had to be dealt with.

And someone had to get rid of her.

To Be Continued . . .



Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 08



This is the beginning of the three-part conclusion to the Daddy's Little Psychopath storyline. From this chapter on, the rules change, and none of the characters will be the same.

New readers beware: this is the eight installment of this series. Chapter One can be found here, Chapter Two can be found here, Chapter Three can be found here and Chapter Four can be found here, Chapter Five can be found here, Chapter Six can be found here and Chapter Seven can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, lesbian sex, rough sex, and reluctance along with violence. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

Please, please, please leave a comment below. I can't stress enough how much feedback helps me write. I do read all of your comments and emails, even though I can't respond to them all.

***

Addendum to editors: This story does not contain any scenes of explicit sex with characters under the legal age of consent (18).

***

--RHONDA--

"Mommy . . . why are they taking Daddy away?"

My mother held me, rubbing her fingers through my head in a vain attempt to both calm me and force me not to look. But, I fought her hold, and kept watching as the squad car rode off into the distance, taking my father away from me.

"Why are they arresting him? He didn't do anything—he was trying to protect me."

"It's okay, baby," she repeated again and again. "It's okay."

I was eleven years old at the time, but from the way she acted, you would think I was six. Of course, even when I was six, her efforts would have been no less pointless.

For the next two weeks, I tried to get a straight answer from her. The only thing I knew was that my father and mother had had an argument about me, and it had ended with Daddy and I crashing in a motel room. Then the cops came, they tried to take me away, and Daddy fought them. It had all happened so fast—and there was so much yelling.

There was a trial, but I wasn't allowed to be there. All I remember is my mother coming to get me, with big showy tears falling from her eyes. She struggled to find her courage, and then told me—regrettably—that Daddy wouldn't be coming home.

That moment . . . that moment was when my entire world crashed around me.

My Daddy, the only person who ever really loved me, was going away.

***

My name is Rhonda Scott. I was born with an IQ over 240. That makes me what most people would call a "genius". It's true that I have no trouble learning anything at all, really. From the time I was four years old, subjects like trigonometry, literature, and sciences of all kind have been pretty simple for me to grasp. I soak up information extremely quickly, and eventually I become more knowledgeable about the subjects than the people who teach me.

You would think that this would have solved most of my problems, but no—life is stupid that way. My childhood was filled with people who feared and resented me for my "gift". My own mother, for instance. She was always afraid of me, and she thought I was too dumb to tell. Oh sure, she would hug me, and smile at me, and say sweet things, but I could see the truth in her eyes. The fear. The hate. The jealousy.

I was her and Daddy's first child, and she was so determined to be a good mommy. She couldn't accept a daughter that, to be blunt, had no need for her. She resented me—far more than anyone else did. Because I wasn't perfect, stupid angel. A genius for a daughter? What could she possibly teach me?

She was no gold star herself. In fact, she was absolutely useless. Daddy was the smart one. He was the one who personally taught me and homeschooled me when I was younger. He was the one who read to me, who bought me literature just to hear my opinion on it. He didn't just teach me—he made me want to be smarter. He made me want to make him proud.

And all that Bitch did was take him away from me.

It took weeks of spying to figure things out. Weeks of picking up other receivers to listen in her phone calls, unlocking and reading her emails, and sometimes even piecing together and reading shredded documents and mail. But eventually, I learned what had happened . . . about how she had been the one who'd called the police on Daddy. How she had told them Daddy had 'kidnapped' me.

But even I hadn't found the proof, I had known it all along . . . my Daddy being taken was all HER FAULT.

To this day, The Bitch claims that getting Daddy arrested wasn't what she'd actually wanted—that it had all just gone out of control. But, I honestly don't know which is worse: that she's just a lying, scheming whore who sent Daddy away to teach him a lesson . . . or that she's just a whiny, incompetent moron whose self-destructive idiocy ripples out to ruin the lives of those around her.

Either way, she became my enemy from that day forward.

I can't describe how painful it was, living with that Bitch. Smiling at her, letting her kiss and hug me . . . pretending that we loved each other. Every second of every day, I thought of ways to murder her. I had fantasies about crushing her windpipe with my little pre-teen fingers. Of stabbing her in the heart and twisting the blade. Of putting a tasteless poison in her coffee and watching as she slowly choked to death.

During the nine months when it was just her and me in the house, I can't tell you how many times I stood in the doorway of her bedroom while she slept with a knife in my hand, trying to weigh my options.

But I came up with a much better idea.

She didn't deserve Daddy, I told myself. I remember the story of they'd met and "fell in love". There were a few differences and embellishments between the two of them, but the story is largely consistent. She was some rich bimbo from a comfortably well-off family that flounced her way through high school failing half her subjects. Her parents pressured the education system to just coast her through school, until she eventually grew more and more slackish and spent more time getting in trouble than giving a damn about school. Finally, her parents had enough and stopped protecting the dumb skank. She had half a semester to improve her grades, or be doomed to flunk out.

She tried to argue with her parents about it, even threatened to run away a few times. But they didn't give into the whiny slut's demands. She pouted and fretted, and totally didn't know what to do—until she found a tutor to bail her ass out. She chose Daddy because he was a geeky loner, probably starving for feminine attention, and he was known for getting high marks and passing his subjects with ease. She just puckered her lips, batted her eyes, and rode his teenage hormones to a passing grade.

Personally, I like to think that she ruined Daddy's life, and I was only born to save him. Daddy could have become so many things with his brains, his talent, and his looks—and she ruined them all. He put himself in massive debt just to pay for their engagement ring and wedding, and was stuck working shitty jobs for decades after to pay it off. She probably enjoyed that. No . . . I'm giving The Bitch too much credit. I bet she wasn't even aware. She was probably too busy whining about how she'd estranged herself from her snobbish family to marry a "poor" man.

But I know the Bitch's game. She only married Daddy because she was still pissed at her parents for what they'd forced her to do. To this day, they HATE Daddy, and so does her older brother, Steven. The only reason she wanted to be with Daddy was because he pissed them off. She didn't love Daddy . . . she was just attracted to the little bad boy streak he had in him.

Heh. She didn't know the half of it.

She didn't deserve him. I knew that. I swore that I wouldn't let her ruin him. No one deserved my Daddy except me, and I would make him mine someday.

******

--DAVID—

"Oh! YES! David! David, fuck me! FUCK ME!!"

Fa'alele, a Samoan of impeccable beauty, called my name between gasps of breaths. The bed struggled to contain our animal lust, the box springs groaning and straining with each sturdy rise and fall each time our hot, sweaty bodies smashed together. I clenched my ass, raising my hips up and down, feeling my long slick cock drilling into her warm pussy. Her warm pregnant pussy. Where right now, she was growing a baby for me.

Fa was lost to pleasure, her body becoming a limp, quivering mess as I made sure an orgasm took her again and again as many times as I could muster. She could barely cling to consciousness long enough to call my name . . . to scream how magnificently I was fucking her brains out. But she did it anyway. Because she knew it pleased me. And when I was pleased, I only fucked that much harder. It was the only English she knew, and I'd made damn sure she learned it.

Fa was the latest soon-to-be-baby-mama to join my illicit harem. After fucking her regularly for over seven weeks, always bareback, and always finishing with a thick, milky load deep in her pussy, she was now five weeks expecting. She was a healthy young twenty year old. I was a forty-six year old whose libido was in overdrive and whose sperm count was in maximum production. It was a foregone conclusion that she'd end up barefoot and pregnant.

The best thing about knocking these girls up was that they knew the score. I didn't love any of them; they were just sexy breeding material. This was nothing less than pure, visceral, depraved sex—free from consequences of any sort. She came to my bed, sucked my cock, and spread her legs for me until we both were cumming, screaming, and moaning like crazy. She willingly carried my baby, because I gave her the most mind-blowing orgasms she'd ever felt. The same thing had been true of Melanie, and Sera, and Audrey, and Soong Po, and Yukiko. All of them had been my pregnant fucktoys for a time.

And then, we all just went on with our lives, and I would have a beautiful new baby to fondly remember the experience.

At least that was the plan. Sometimes, feelings did get involved. Like with my darling Katy. God, what an absolute slut that girl was. I had to keep her around. I've never seen a girl so depraved . . . so slutty . . . so desperate to please me. I could do anything I wanted to her—anything at all—even make her take my cock ass-to-mouth, and she would never complain. No, hell, she would welcome it. Anything I wanted from her, she gave.

The thing that really drove her insane with lust would be when I would walk into the room, grab her, and throw her violently down. I would rip the clothes right off of her—even her expensive, showier outfits. I'd just tear them apart with my bear hands, like some kind of lust-crazed barbarian. Her eyes would go wide with surprise, and her lips wetted with anticipation.

I would fuck Katy right then and there. On the couch, on the floor, on a table . . . it didn't matter. I would fuck her when and where I felt like it, in her tattered clothes, my hands pushing her legs apart, squeezing her sexy tits, ripping her stockings, pulling her hair, and pinning her hands to the floor. As I said, I could do anything I wanted to her.

Being handled like that always had Katy screaming and gushing before my cock even entered her. And seeing her writing under me, locking her legs together on my buttocks, begging me to cum in her . . . it was always the best.

Everything about my life was the best now. This was the life I'd always dreamed of, but I'd never known. I never had any idea that these desires were inside me—that there was this beast waiting to get loose. But Rhonda had known. She knew what made Daddy happy, so that's why I always gave her the first fuck. Rhonda had dibs on my cock first and foremost. Daddy's little girl deserved that much for keeping Daddy happy.

So after she gave birth to our triplets, I got Rhonda pregnant again immediately. She wanted to be Daddy's breeding slut, and she was going to get that wish. She deserved it. Rhonda would carry Daddy's babies forever. I would be sure of that.

******

--RHONDA--

Creating my utopia took years of planning, and patience.

My mother took me to counseling while Daddy was in jail. Of course, with all the books I'd read on psychology and therapy, it was easy for me to fake my "recovery". Shrinks are easy to manipulate because they want to believe they're helping crazy people get better. All they see is another note on their resume; another success story with their name attached to it. Just give them what they want, and they'll believe anything you say.

"Mommy" was even easier; all I had to do was pretend that giving me 'more love' would somehow magically fix me. And she wanted to believe it.

I frequented various message boards and online forums for a year or more afterward—usually tech boards and other places dedicated to hacking and pirating technology. The thing about technology is that the more corporations do to try and stop people from illegally manipulating their products, the more demand there becomes for ways to beat it.

By the time I was thirteen, I already knew how to hack most systems, and numerous little job requests started opening up for me. People who wanted to know how to hack their boyfriends' social networking pages to find out if they were cheating; people who needed to change their drivers' license information to beat a DUI; even employers who wanted to find out what emails their employees were sending. For a steep fee, I was able to break into these supposedly-secure networks and get the info my clients wanted.

Eventually, I earned my nickname for my renowned ability to encrypt and decrypt virtually anything. Across the net, people started to refer to me as "The Locksmith".

But it didn't stop there. As my reputation grew, so did the number of people curious to find out my identity. Eventually, I even found out the FBI sniffing around for clues. I laid low for a while after that. I had earned enough money to tide me over for years at that point. I took two years away from professional hacking, but in my spare time, I still kept up with the latest trends in tech and made something of a hobby of designing my own firewalls, surveillance bugs and other useful little things. I tested them on Daddy and The Bitch, and eventually figured out how to monitor them at virtually any time and place.

When I was seventeen, I started taking my plans to steal Daddy from The Bitch seriously. I decided to wait until I was eighteen to make a formal move, just to eliminate one extra reason for Daddy to reject me. It was bad enough that I was his own daughter, but I knew that if I could make myself a hot enough slut for him, he'd find a way to overlook that little detail as long as I wasn't underage. Daddy tried to hide it, but I knew how much he craved pussy. I'd watched him for years.

Eventually, it all came to plan. Through blackmail and a bit of rape, I finally got to fuck Daddy like I always wanted. He became my lover, albeit a bit reluctantly.

That wasn't good enough for me.

The only reason he kept The Bitch around was because he thought she "loved" him. Sure, I was physically and mentally superior to her, but she was his high school sweetheart. They had twenty years of wonderful little memories together. She'd brainwashed Daddy. Made him actually think she was a 'good' wife. But I had the perfect way to erase all that.

Some of my clients are in the . . . shipping business. They traffic a certain type of product . . . the kind that has bit tits, round asses, but barely any English. The type that long to fuck a white American if it means they can get away from their shitty countries. So, I called in a few favors. Though it cost me a fortune, I bought a few of those . . . "products" for Daddy.

And Daddy was enjoying himself so much now. He was a machine! At first, I thought it would only take a few sluts to satisfy him, and keep him wrapped around my little finger. I didn't think he'd find the time to handle even four women, let alone NINE. And the amazing thing was that the quality of our sex never dulled. Daddy still slept in my bed almost every night and fucked me both at night and in the morning, and sometimes even in the day. But when he and I weren't together, he was fucking the other women.

Part of loves and hates it—after all, he's my man now. On the one hand, I get so much satisfaction when he looks at me with such joy and delight. Daddy's living every man's fantasy now, and he's well aware that I'm the one that makes it possible. He'll do whatever I tell him, like a loyal terrier. And occasionally, all I have to do is toss him a bone. Or a dozen.

Of course, The Bitch was still around, but she'd been pretty much tamed at this point. She was my plaything now, too.

But there was still one thing spoiling my little utopia, and making it far from perfect.

******

--EILEEN—

My back was killing me so badly. I had gone shopping the other day, but with a family of four adults and twelve children, there was a far bigger haul than I'd really anticipated and it wore me out carrying all that stuff in. I had spent twenty minutes trying to find David, he was too busy fucking to get my attention. I think it was the Samoan girl. Or maybe the Pakistani. She was definitely tanned, and speaking some other language. But ultimately, I suppose it really didn't matter. He was 'in heat'. He was the savage, sex-crazed maniac, not 'David', and wouldn't stop fucking for anything. So I brought it all in myself and paid the price afterward.

That was when I decided to take advantage of the patio that Rhonda had built in the back, with the hot tub. It smelled of sex and David's other women, but that didn't matter right now. I needed a soak. I spent an hour or so in there, and then laid out topless on the patio furniture.

I was laying on my stomach and I guess I drifted off to sleep. I was having a very comfortable nap, but feeling oddly soothed when I felt something nudging me awake. There was a gentle pair of hands on my back, touching me with a cool, wet sensation. Shocked, I turned to find Katy sitting beside me, rubbing her hands on my back, massaging me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, First Wife. I didn't mean to wake you," she said sweetly.

I gave her an incredulous look. "What are you doing?"

She only continued to smile. "It's dangerous to lay out in the sun without suntan, yes? I did not want you to hurt yourself."

She was right. I had drifted off to sleep in the sun without any oil on me. I had no idea how long I'd been there, but my back had already started to get a bit baked. If she hadn't woke me up, I would have traded a sore back for a burned one.

But this girl still pissed me right off.

I sneered at her. "Are you still at it? I told you I don't want to be your friend."

She only shrugged. "Be that as it may, you are the First Wife, so I will continue to serve you as is my duty."

I sat up angrily. "Stop calling me that! You're not David's wife, and you never will be! And he . . . and he . . . "




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 08



It was at that moment that I had a quick realization—my back ache was completely gone!

She noticed my surprise. "I applied the oil on your back, but also provided a slight massage. I noticed that you seemed tense right along . . . here."

She touched the spot where my ache had been, and it felt soooooo goooood. I felt a charge go through my body, forcing me to sit up and yelp.

"S-Stop," I protested feebly, trying to block out the pleasure. "I don't . . . want your help."

"Maybe not, but I believe you need it," she said, squirting another blotch of oil on her hand. "Please turn over."

I did as she asked. But why? I hated this girl. She'd taken David from me, just like Ronnie had. No, in a way, even worse. She was so much more beautiful than me, so much younger than me! She was acting so generous, and so sweet. And she treated me like a queen.

She sickened me.

And yet, all of that hatred and tension melted off when she touched me. When her hands fell atop my breasts, she massaged them gently, soothingly. My breasts flowed in her hands like they belonged there. It wasn't like anything I'd felt before . . . David had always been a bit rough with my breasts . . . even before he became the lust-driven animal he was now. Of course, I liked that, but this was such a welcome change of pace. I'd never felt such smooth, delicate hands on them before.

She saw my approval and smiled. "Please do not worry. I am very good at this."

"Just . . . just finish up and go," I said, turning my head away from her. She continued to oil up my entire body, her gentle hands slowly rubbing over every inch of me. Over my stomach, my thighs, my legs.

When she was finally done, she stood and bowed slightly. "Please let me know if you need anything else, First Wife."

I didn't correct her again. I didn't say anything to her. I just watched her leave, and eventually, I drifted back to sleep, my entire body feeling younger than it had in years.

******

--RHONDA—

"I want to keep her, Ronnie," he told me.

For a moment, I just sat there, nibbling my pen—just staring at him. If only he knew how badly, right at that moment, I wanted to throttle him. Here I was, fighting my hardest to protect our home from the other two dumb bitches he'd picked to live here, and he was already demanding to bring in a third one?

Why couldn't Daddy just understand that his taste in women was terrible? He was the one who'd brought both The Bitch and The Whore to our home, and look where that'd gotten us. The only reason he even had a woman that loved him as much as I did at all was because I'd ignored his initial protests. I had been forced to rape him because I knew we were meant to be. Only I knew what was best for him.

My mind was a torrent of frustration and anger, but I kept my sweetest smile and my eyes softly glistened as I giggled: "Sorry, Daddy. That one's not available."

His shock was expected. This was, after all, the first time I'd ever denied him. A moment I knew would be inevitable one day. It almost broke my heart, to see that look of disappointment in his eyes. Daddy had been so good lately—so obedient. He didn't deserve this, but I had to do it for his sake. He was like a child. He didn't know better. His mind was so consumed with fucking that he just couldn't help himself anymore. I had to protect him from himself.

"What . . . what do you mean Fa'alele's not available, Ronnie? She's . . . she's already pregnant with my baby and—"

"She's already told me that she doesn't want to continue after she's delivered the baby, Daddy." It was a blatant lie, but one Daddy had no chance of verifying. The Samoan bitch didn't speak a word of English except "Yes!" and "Fuck me!", so it wasn't like he could ask her directly. Of course, I didn't speak Samoan myself, so it was impossible for that conversation to have taken place at all, but Daddy didn't know that, either.

But Daddy was so crushed. The look of disappointment might've made me sad if it weren't so hot. Seeing Daddy fall for my little ruses always made me horny. It reminded me how much I owned him—how well I had trained his obedience.

I was so turned on that I decided to play with him a little more. I opened my robe, exposing my naked body—including my wide, pregnant belly—and reached down so that Daddy could watch as I slowly slipped a finger into my pussy.

"So you like her, then, Daddy?" I asked him.

He licked his lips as he watched me slowly fuck myself. "Yes . . . she's incredibly hot, Ronnie."

"What do you like about her, Daddy?" I reached down and squeezed my breast, pointing my nipple up so that I could suckle it myself as Daddy watched.

"Her body . . . it's so curvaceous and soft. She's got a bit of body fat, but . . . it all goes to the right places. She's, like . . . the perfect breeding material, Ronnie."

I smiled. "Oh, is that all? You don't have any feelings for her, Daddy?"

"Shit, no," he said. "I just want to that dam perfect body to make more babies, Ronnie. That's all. I want to make babies in her, because that's all she's good for."

I laughed at that. "If that's all you want, Daddy, why settle for the same plain old bitch every time? I can find others just like her, Daddy. Same breasts, same curves, same ass . . . same everything. I can find as many of them as you want, and you can play with them however you want."

He swallowed. "R-Really . . .? Exactly like her?"

"Uh-huh," I moaned. "Even better in fact, now that I know your 'type'."

"You . . . you're amazing, Ronnie. I love you, so much."

I purred at that, and my eyes fell upon the cock stiffening in his pants. I rubbed my hands on my stomach, where our newest baby was growing. Daddy's baby. He understood my need right away, and pulled his pants down.

"Bend over, Ronnie," he commanded me. "Right now."

I loved this forceful side of him. I loved how much Daddy craved my pussy now. But I decided to tease him a little.

"What are you going to do to me, Daddy?" I asked, as I turned around and hiked my robe over my rear.

"Shut up, Slut," he growled, smacking my ass with his backhand, making the supple flesh dance to his whims. I moaned and writhed as I bent myself over on our bed . . . on the bed Daddy and I shared . . . where we bred our happy family now.

"Are you gonna fuck me, Daddy? Are you gonna fuck your little girl? I've been so good . . ."

"I know you have, baby," he said, with a hand rubbing the tender spot of my ass that he'd just smacked. He squeezed my stinging flesh, only intensifying my pleasure. "You're carrying Daddy's baby, like a good girl. You're bringing Daddy healthy sluts, like a good girl."

"Will you love me as long as I carry your babies, Daddy?"

He began gently fingering my pussy, increasing my wetness by the second. "Of course, honey. As long as Daddy keep knocking you up, he'll always love you."

"Do you promise, Daddy?"

"I do, sweetie. Daddy promises. Spread your legs, baby."

I pushed my legs further apart to give Daddy access. I was breathing so heavily now, so greatly anticipating having his cock lengthy manhood inside me.

"Breed me, Daddy. Breed me right now. Cum in me, and breed your daughter like we both want."

I was already pregnant, but Daddy loved it when I begged him like that. Just because I was pregnant didn't mean my pussy didn't belong to him. It didn't mean that he couldn't mount me, cum in me, and breed me like his bitch.

Daddy popped inside me suddenly, going in the whole length all at once. He began fucking me at his full strength immediately, never letting me even catch my breath. I was screaming and moaning, sweat beading over my skin. Daddy reached down and pulled my arms back, holding them like reins as he fucked me like a bucking bronco.

"Yes! Yes! Like that! D-Don't stop! Daddy! Fuck me until you breed me! Until you breed my pussy!"

Daddy let loose a confirming growl, and picked up speed without sacrificing power. My entire body was jerking back and forth, my tits bouncing underneath wildly.

He kept it up until we were both ready to cum, and then he finally did it—letting lose a torrent of baby-making cum in me.

******

--KATY—

I held Hussein in my arms, cradling him as though I'd never let him go. He cooed in my arms, and then laughed, as if he felt the same. That made me smile, and I pushed his little head to my breast.

Hussein is my son. My first, but definitely not my last, since I'm pregnant already with my second, thanks to David. His beautiful face is the reason why I had to come back here. As much as I love David—and I do—Hussein is my baby. I would do anything for him, like a proper mother. Everything that is good of me and David is in him.

But he wasn't the only one. In the months since I'd returned, I came to feel the same of all of the children. All thirteen of David's children. Strangely, all sons. And all named after American Presidents. Wiliam. Henry. Harrison. Warren. Cleveland. Clinton. Richard. Roosevelt. Lincoln. Jackson. Garfield. I even heard that Eileen has two nephews named Theodore and Rutherford.

Odd naming themes aside, they're all beautiful to me, and their faces all reminded me of David. Most of them also looked like Eileen or Rhonda, but some are from mothers I'd barely met. I didn't mind David being with, or impregnating the other women, but I wondered how he would have managed if I'd not returned. Or, more accurately, how Rhonda would have.

It didn't matter now, though. I was back for good—no matter what Rhonda thought. I had insurance. If anything happened to me, I had friends who would make her life a living nightmare. She thought herself untouchable, but even the tightest web can unravel if you knew what string to pull. And her string was her children. Unlike me, Rhonda's children were all incestuous and illegal. Merely by existing, they gave me an advantage over her.

But I hated thinking of the pure darlings that way. It wasn't their fault. Their mother was a monster. It wasn't fair for them to just be pawns in this stupid game. But Rhonda had forced it to be this way.

Usually, she saw to her own children herself—Rhonda didn't like letting the other women be near them, but eventually, she had no choice. She was too busy doing . . . whatever she does with her time, so she had no choice but to let me watch over them most of the day. Only William was even old enough for pre-school, so the others relied on me to look over and teach them. One of my proudest moments was the day I finally helped Warren become potty trained.

I told myself that these children were worth anything Rhonda tried to do to me. That no matter what, everything was bearable as long as I could hold my son.

And eventually, that came back to haunt me.

One day, we found out that there a massive snowstorm heading into our area. The news advised everyone to remain indoors, and road and rescue services remained on standby. This was predicted to be one of the worst storms in almost a decade. And since we lived in an isolated spot in the hills, things were likely to be especially bad for us.

But it was much, much worse than I ever expected.

The day of the storm, Hussein became seriously ill. His skin paled, and small blemishes appeared on his tiny body. He coughed and cried all night, and their breathing seemed forced and ragged.

My son was dying.

With the snowstorm, there was no way to get help. As was our luck, the storm even downed telephone lines, making it possible to even call for the rescue that had been promised by the state patrol.

I was at a loss as to what to do. More and more, I began to panic

"W-What's happening to him!? Please, do something, David!"

But David was as lost as I was. He stared at our son with wide eyes and shook his head.

Then, he began muttering.

"What did I do wrong . . .?"

I stared at him confusedly. "What do you mean?"

"I've done everything she asked us to do. I never disobeyed her . . . I gave her what she wanted . . ."

"What are you talking about?!" I screamed at him. But then, it hit me. "R-Rhonda!? You think Rhonda's behind this!??"

He only swallowed.

"David! Are you saying she's hurting our son?!"

He only looked at me. "I'm sorry. I must have made her angry—"

I stormed away, immediately, heading to Rhonda's little "hideaway". I marched directly to the locked steel door that led into her private wing of the house and banged against it until my fist hurt.

"RHONDA!! RHONDA, I know you can hear me! Open this door NOW, you hear me!? OPEN IT!"

The red light next to the door turned green, and I pulled it open.

I hurried into the area that the others called Rhonda's "Control Room". My head was still racing, my pulse quickened, and sweat beaded all over my body. If I felt any traces of fear for walking into the den of my enemy, it was almost nothing compared to the fear for my son.

Was Rhonda truly behind this?! I'd kill her—I would strangle her to death if it were so!

After turning through several room, including passing a large library, and a lavish bedroom, I found a second security door. The light on this one was green as well, so I pulled it open and descended the dark staircase. I prayed for Allah to give me strength as I descended into what felt like the underworld.

"Ah, there you are. Please, come in."

There Rhonda sat, her hands folded on her lap, and a smug, uncaring smile focused upon me. Behind her was a ton of what seemed like expensive computer equipment. She wore an expensive silken robe that didn't even bother to cover any of her body. Rhonda's physique was feminine perfection, and the way she dressed and sat made it clear that she wanted this known. Her full breasts and dark nipples poked out from the edges of the robe, and her long, curvy legs folded on top of each other.

My eyes especially lingered on the pair of purple heeled slippers that adorned both of her feet. All in all, I hated to admit it, but the girl was an exquisite beauty. But there was so much evil hidden behind that façade.

Rhonda's smile persisted as she waited for me to finish looking her over. "Welcome to my Control Room. I believe this is the first time we've had a chance to talk face-to-face."

"I don't care about that," I shouted. "I'm here about my son! Are you behind it!? Answer me!!"

Rhonda only chuckled. My hand twitched, and my nails were begging to ruin that perfect face of hers. "I said ANSWER ME!"

"We'll never get anywhere shouting," she said with cold indifference. "I tell you what . . ." She unfolded her legs, slowly and deliberately, and leaned back in her chair with one stretched out to me. "I could use a sensual leg rub, like you gave my mother the other day. It seems you have a fantastic talent for that, so why don't you be a dear and do that for me so we can talk calmly?"

I spat. The wad of foaming saliva hit squarely upon Rhonda's calf. She only looked down quizzically, and then back up toward me.

"I see you want to make this difficult." Then, with malevolence, she added, "Good. This will make it so much more fun when I break you." Her evil grin widened. "Or your ugly, fetid baby. Whichever 'breaks' first."

My rage was building to unbearable levels. I wanted to kill this woman. Allah help me, I wanted to. But I forced myself to stay calm. To not act rashly. For Hussein's sake.

"What do you want from me?" I demanded.

"Ooooh. Finally starting to behave yourself a little, hm, Princess?" She chuckled triumphantly. "As you've no doubt just realized, in this house, I hold all of the power. Everything here is mine. My father. The bitch. Your pretty little ass. And all of your ugly children. I own you all. Your precious son wouldn't even be alive today if I hadn't brought you here, so it's only fair that his life continue to depend on me, don't you think?"

"You bitch . . .!" My voice hissed with hatred.

She smiled at me again. Her eyes once again fell to her outstretched leg. "Come on, now. Be a good girl."

Swallowing my pride, I dropped to my knees and reached out to Rhonda's leg. But then, she stopped me.

"No, no. Clean up your spit, first. With your tongue, dear."

I flashed her another murderous glare, but I did what I was told. A long shimmering trail of my saliva had run down Rhonda's leg, following the sleek contour, all the way up to her thigh. Slowly, and gently, I stretched my tongue to her legs and licked along the same path of my spit.

Rhonda moaned, her eyes watching me like a hawk stalking a fat mouse. She licked her wet lips, and her left hand disappeared into her robe, dipping where her pussy would be. Her mouth quivered, and her breathing became faster.

My body reacted against my will. My skin prickled, and my heart beat faster. I could feel my own moistness growing underneath, dampening my panties. I didn't enjoy a moment of this, I tried to think, but my body rejected that message. It was too used to submission—to being used and treated as David's plaything. It was readying itself without my complete consent.

When I'd finally licked away every trace of my own spit, I still had the salty-sweet taste of Rhonda's flesh in my mouth. I did as she had originally asked and began to massage her leg. Rhonda was still fingering herself to the cusp of orgasm, but she talked to me all the same.

"Mmmm. That's a good little whore." Her tone made it clear that what she was truly getting off on was my subjugation, not necessarily my touch. "So then . . . I think it's time we had our chat.

"For too long, you've been prancing around this house as if you're queen. As if you've won and 'defeated' me. Like you're some untouchable fucking pixie. You know who I am, and you know what I do and where my money comes from, so I guess that makes you think you control me, huh?

She slapped me, so hard that I saw stars. "Guess again, bitch."

As I reeled back and put a had to my ringing cheek, Rhonda sat back and presented me with the other leg.

"Now, do the same to this. Spit and all."

I spat on her other leg as well, but with nowhere near the same satisfaction as the first time. I pressed my tongue and lips to her leg, and began to lick as she had commanded.

Rhonda shivered, and I think she came right at that moment. A charge went to my pussy, and I almost did the same.

My God . . . what was this strange and evil power this woman had?!

"Anyway, as I was saying," she continued, "I want to get the house rules known. Here, I am Queen. Your fancy titles and money don't mean anything to me. The moment you brought yourself here, you became just another jester in my castle. Just a pretty piece of meat for me to use as I want. Is that clear?"

I stopped to swallow before I answered. The taste of Rhonda's flesh went down my throat and into my body. "Yes . . ."

She patted my head. "Good girl. You're learning much faster than The Bitch did.

"But, you seem to be under the misunderstanding that you are Daddy's toy. But you are not—you're mine. You aren't Daddy's woman. You're not even worthy of Daddy. Only by making me happy will he have anything to do with you. You got that?"

Reluctantly, I nodded.

"Don't underestimate me, you fucking simpleton. I'm smarter, tougher, and far more powerful than you. I made every dime I own myself, not like some spoiled fucking princess born in money like you and The Bitch. I earned everything I have, including Daddy. I will NOT allow your little prissy, self-righteous ass to come in and take it from me! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Again, I nodded, finishing my licking and going into the leg massage. My mind was still only on Hussein. I reminded myself that he was the reason I was there. That for him, I would endure everything she put me through.




Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 08



But I knew that one day, I would have a reckoning. Rhonda was as smart, ruthless, and powerful as she said. I knew all about her information empire. I couldn't prove most of it to the authorities yet, but just knowing about it gave me some leverage. I could cause tons of trouble for her.

But not right now. Right now, my son's health was at stake.

And there was also Dr. Barry Garrett, my ally in California. He said he would check up on me, and that if I were in trouble, he would help. I believed him—he seemed like an honest man. Handsome and sincere. His warm smile had reassured me, melted my worries away. I knew that he would never abandon me. He would never let me down.

But somehow, I think Rhonda was able to read my mind. "Oh yes . . . and if you're waiting for your . . . 'friend' . . . in California to help?" That snatched my attention, and she grinned triumphantly. "Do not worry about him. He's already been taken out of the picture."

I turned to her with wide eyes. "You . . . you're lying. There's no way that you could—"

"Oh my. You should really follow the news better. Didn't you hear about the scandal in California? About the perverted psychologist and his illegal harem? It was all over the papers."

I shook my head. "That . . . that can't be true!"

"The poor man was worth billions," she said with a 'tsk' sound. "But soon, he's going to notice that it's all gone. It seems someone is already in control of his assets. I'm sure he doesn't know yet, because he's trying to save his pathetic Slut Kingdom from collapsing." She smiled at me, a knowing, sinister grin.

"But soon, very soon, the asshole won't have a dollar to his name."

Tears were streaming down my face now. Rhonda noticed it, and she came right on the spot. Her entire body shuttered, and her face took a soft, blissful shape. Rhonda screamed in ecstacy, never taking her eyes off me, and my expression of pure despair.

When her body finally returned from the zenith of pleasure, she glowed with satisfaction and inserted a finger, covered with her cum into her lips. She moaned pleasurably, then offered me the other fingers.

"Taste," she cooed.

I looked disgusted, but she only lowered her brow expectantly. "Taste," she said, far more forcefully.

Quivering, I leaned forward and put my lips around Rhonda's cum-soaked fingers.

Damn her. They tasted sweet and milky. Damn her.

"No one will help you. No one will save you. You're mine now, and that's all there is to it."

She smiled again. "But, I had fun—you came the closest to defeating me that anyone ever has—but now our game is over. As a reward for giving me a decent little challenge, I'll let you in on a secret: your son was never in any real danger. I simply gave him a mild case of the flu—and in a day or two, he'll recover."

I sobbed again. So I'd come here for nothing?! I'd thrown myself on this bitch's mercy for NOTHING!? The whole time, I'd been playing right into her hands . . .

"For now, you may continue to be my father's breeding cow, but never forget who's in charge. " Suddenly, she gripped my hair with a fist and yanked it up painfully. She kept her cum-soaked fingers in my mouth. "And if you ever, EVER, challenge me again, your son won't just get 'sick' next time. I'll make his death slow and agonizing and force you to watch. And then, I'll make a call to some friends of mine, and they'll drag you off and spend a week treating you far more roughly than Daddy ever did. Then, they'll toss you in the fucking ocean like a used condom.

"Do you understand?!?"

"Y-Yes . . ." I sobbed, my voice muffled by her fingers.

"I said, do you FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!?!"

"YES!!" I screamed.

Rhonda let me go and pulled her fingers out of my mouth.

"Good. Now get out of my sight, you sow."



******

--EILEEN—

She spent the rest of the night sobbing; sit was like her soul had been completely crushed. She tended to Hussein, softly praying. A prayer that Rhonda would keep her word, that he would be alright. The baby still coughed and cried, and he felt so cold. Every time he did, she sobbed and held him close, afraid he would lose him.

David tried to comfort her, but she denied him.

"Please, David . . . I beg you . . . just please leave me alone just for tonight."

He seemed surprised, but he nodded. It was the first time I'd seen David show that kind of tenderness since . . . he changed. It was only a peak, but I thought I saw David. My David.

But it wasn't for me.

She was stealing him from me again! Worse than Ronnie ever had! I wanted to hate her. David hadn't been that gentle with me in over a year. I missed that side of my husband. So why was it only for her?! Why was she the only one who—

The baby spat up again, and I realized how selfish I was being. Here this poor girl was, trying to tend to her sick child, and I was just being an absolute bitch. What was wrong with me!? Why was it that when things got bad, all I could ever think of was my own problems?

It had been that way that night eleven years ago, too. The night David had been arrested. The night all of this began.

I went to her and wrapped a blanket over her. She trembled in surprised, but calmed down when she saw me.

"O-Oh! T-Thank you," she stammered.

I smiled at her, and then looked at her child. Such a beautiful baby. He had his mother's eyes, and David's nose. The two seemed to mix perfectly, with features that were sure to make a very handsome boy that would gain tons of attention.

Goddamn this girl. She could even make babies better than me.

I swallowed my pride and placed a hand on hers, trying to stop her shivering. "He'll be okay," I told her.

She only nodded.

Then, something occurred to me. A question I'd never bothered with before.

"What's his name?"

She sniffed and answered. "Hussein. Hussein Scott."

"Hi, Hussein," I said sweetly to the baby. "You're gonna be okay. Your mommy is here." I paused a second and then said, "Your . . . mommies . . . are here."

She looked at me, stunned for a moment, and then smiling. "Thank you. I always knew you were a kind person." She kept her voice below a whisper.

That compliment only made me hate her more. That comment, and her sweet smile.

My own hate only made me sick.

***

The next few nights, Katy continued to nurse her son back to full health. His color finally came back, and his breathing stabilized. But, for a while, it'd been hairy. David tried to help her as well, but every time the three of us were together, Rhonda "summoned" him. It was as if she didn't want him to sympathize with us too much.

Or maybe it was Katy she was afraid of. Rhonda even warned me about letting the girl "bewitch" me.

"She's just trying to milk as much sympathy as she can get. You know that, right? If you let her, she'll try to ruin us! Ruin everything!"

I nodded to what Ronnie said, but only to appease her. No matter what she said about Katy, her son had been in real trouble. She had watched over him every day and night. She had cried real tears.

No, if one of them was lying, I was sure it wasn't Katy.

"Thank you again," Katy said to me one day, after Hussein had recovered. "I don't know what I would have done without your help. You are such a kind and beautiful woman."

"No I'm not. I'm horrible. All I've done is . . . is be mean to you. All I've done is push you away . . . out of fear . . . out of jealousy . . ."

Her smile turned sympathetic. "That isn't you. It's her. It's the poison she's seeped into you. Into everyone. She tries to make you afraid. To be as ugly and hateful as she is."

Hearing that only made me sob. ". . . It's my fault. Everything Rhonda has become is my fault."

She shook her head. "No. That's wrong. There's a light in you. I can see it plain as day. A light that Rhonda has tried to snuff out. But, it's a testament to your strength that she's failed."

I stared at Katy, for the first time, truly seeing her. I stared a long time until we looked down and saw that the baby had finally gone to sleep.

Gently, Katy stood and carried him back to his crib, putting him inside. The other babies were all asleep as well, and the toddlers in the next room were snoring soundly. As Hussein softly laid his tiny head on the pillow, I could almost see the difference. As beautiful as he'd been those nights ago, he was even more so with the color starting to come back to his cheeks.

"He's going to be okay . . ." Katy said as she wiped away a tear, finally believing it. "He's going to be okay . . ."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, but . . . what about you?"

She touched my hand and tried to smile. "I think I will be as well . . . thanks to you . . ."

Her hand gently rubbed my hand. An electric, sensual feeling came over me.

"I love you, Eileen."

She looked up into my eyes, her glistening pearls searching into me, connecting our feelings. I met her gaze, time slowing so much that it seemed neither of us blinked.

Gently, she placed a hand on my chest, and leaned forward. Without taking her eyes from me, she lifted her lips to mine. Without thinking, I lowered mine to hers.

Once our lips touched, and everything just sort of . . . faded.

******

When my senses returned to me, the two of us were a pair of writhing sweaty bodies, grinding against one another, moaning and exploring every inch we could find. I lay atop her, our breasts docked perfectly against each other, mashed together, rubbing their soft, slick flesh. It was at this moment that Katy reached up and grabbed the back of my head, pulling my lips back to hers. Thought left me as I explored her mouth with my tongue.

Her hand left my head and tightly grabbed my rear, squeezing and scratching with her claws. I responded by fingering her clit more vigorously than before.

Almost in sync, an orgasm quaked over us both. Our lips parted, but our hot, desperate breaths still traveled into one-another, my air exchanged for hers.

The only thing I could think of at that moment was pleasure—mine and hers. Her touch was just as gentle and wonderful as it'd been the day on the patio. I was determined to return the pleasure she gave me tenfold. It was the first time I'd felt this way in a long, long time.

It was the first time I wanted to make love.

We continued this way for more than an hour, and only when we were done did we remember that we were surrounded by baby cribs everywhere. Luckily, none of the tykes seemed the least bit disturbed by the lewd adults on the floor between them. When we realized where we were and what we had done, Katy and I both shared a soft laugh, and then kissed each other again.

"I . . . I've never felt anything like that before . . ." she told me. "I loved it. Every moment of it."

"So did I," I said, still with some reluctance. "Every moment of it. I never thought I'd . . . do anything like that with a woman before. Not just sex, but . . "

"I know what you mean," she said, rubbing a loving finger down my left breast, flicking my nipple with her fingernail. "But I've always loved you, First Wife."

Her words suddenly reminded me. I sighed and shook my head. "Dear God . . . I'm . . . you're my husband's mistress and I'm . . ."

"No, I'm not just David's," she said. "And I'm not Rhonda's either, not matter what she may think. I belong to you, as well. I always have."

"Rhonda . . ." I hissed, remembering what had caused all of this. "She's . . . she's gone too far this time." I remembered that this wasn't the first time that Rhonda had made one of our children sick—she'd done the same thing to William, a while ago. And she'd done the same thing to me and David, too. But, none of us had as young, or as sick, as Hussein. She'd risked that poor baby's life, all for her little games.

"Katy," I said, rubbing her shoulders lovingly. "We have to go."

She looked at me. "What? Go? What do you mean?"

I stood up. "Right now. Grab your clothes. Grab anything you'll need, but only what you can carry. Then, take Hussein and Henry. I'll grab William and Harrison."

She sat up. "What . . .? Are you . . . are you saying . . .?"

I nodded. "Please. We don't have much time. David hasn't come out yet, so they're . . . they're still fucking. She can't be watching right now. We won't get another chance like this."

Still wide-eyed, she looked at me, but did as I instructed. She grabbed her clothing from the floor and ran off for her room.

When she was gone, I reached for my clothes, and felt my hands shaking. What had I just said . . .? Was I crazy, or—

No. No, this was right. I needed to do this, while my anger and outrage were fresh. While my courage was still strong. This moment had been too long coming. Too long.

As I'd said, Katy and I grabbed only what we could carry. She took Hussein and one of my sons, while I took my other two. William wiped his eyes and protested, but I pulled him along.

"But what about the other children?" She asked.

"We don't have time," I told her. "I know how much you love them all, but . . . there's just no time."

I expected Katy to argue, but she only nodded to the fire in my voice. Without another word of protest, we took the kids to my minivan and loaded up.

I turned the key and sped away, putting as much distance between us and the house as I could.

There was no turning back now.

"Eileen," Katy said, "do you know where we're going?"

I shook my head. "To be honest, I have no idea."

But luckily, Katy seemed more resourceful than I was. "If we can, we should head for California. I have a . . . friend there. The same friend that helped me find you again after Rhonda tried to be rid of me."

I looked at her briefly. "A friend? Who is he?"

"His name's Barry Garrett. He's a good man." Her eyes fell. "But . . . I think he's in trouble. I hope it's not too late."

I only nodded and changed gears. California seemed as good a destination as any.

But I could only imagine how terrible Rhonda's fury would be . . .

******

To be continued in Daddy's Little Psychopath, Chapter 9 . . .



Daddy's Little Psychopath



The day I was released, Rhonda and Eileen picked me up from the jailhouse and both of them gave me a great big hug. I told them how much I missed them both and promised never to leave them again.

Eileen and I fucked like rabbits that night, and I was more than insatiable after all the time I'd spent in jail. I was eager to plunge my dick into a warm pussy after everything was said and done.

I tried to settle back into my life, but I found that times had gotten even harsher during the time I'd lost. Rhonda was already working on getting some higher education, and schools were lining up looking for her acceptance. She even had a number of jobs lined up for herself once she turned a few years older, as everyone was interested in enrolling a child prodigy for the publicity. We were getting all sorts of grants and "gifts" from various schools and agencies, all looking to take advantage of the prodigy we had staying at home. After careful consideration, Rhonda decided to acquire more Bachelor's degrees in various other fields before moving on to her Masters. It worked out pretty well, because it allowed her to enroll in one program temporarily and then hop to another one, thus exploiting all of the grants she earned and squeezing the maximum amount of money she could get out of it.

Eventually, I got a new job working for a car insurance company, and even though I felt like the sleaziest son of a bitch ever, it was honest work and I needed honest work to honor my parole. Another six years passed, and things eventually got back to normal. Eileen and I were even talking about having another child together. When we told Rhonda that we were thinking of giving her a little brother or sister, her expression was a bit weird. She looked at the two of us as if she was utterly confused about what that meant for a second. Then, suddenly, she burst into a smile and wished us luck.

It was around that time that the really strange occurrences started. Almost overnight, Rhonda began acting and dressing differently. She was eighteen now, so she was at that age where she had developed a more mature body, and at no point did I notice that fact more than the day when she walked into the house wearing the skimpiest halter top I had ever seen in my life.

"Hey, Daddy," she said giddily, setting her books on the countertop. She had since decided on a school to go to—a nice college only a few miles away that she could easily ride public transit to. She was finally going for a Master's degree, one she could have actually gotten a lot earlier were it not for all of the drama that had befallen our family in the last seven years.

But what beheld my attention now was the tight pink halter my little girl was wearing, barely smooshed against her developing bosom, showing off her naked shoulders and her entire belly directly underneath her ribcage. It actually had holes in it, making it semi-transparent from the sideboob all the way around to the back. Below that, she wore a tight pair of khaki short shorts that rode all the way up to her hips, showcasing her smooth and silken thighs.

For a moment, I forgot that it was my own daughter I was seeing. In that instance, I thought some hot young babe from a "Girls Gone Wild" video had stumbled into my kitchen. It only took me a second further to correct my mistake, but I felt horrified that I felt my cock twitch as I soaked in my daughter's promiscuous countenance.

"R-Ronnie," I began, "what the hell are you doing wearing that outfit?"

For just a fraction of a tick, I thought she flashed a smile. If she did, it lasted only for a nanosecond, faster than I could register it. Almost immediately afterward, though, her attitude morphed into indignation.

"Geez, Dad! I'm eighteen! I can wear whatever I want!"

"Not in my house, you can't!" I barked. "You get in your room and change into a t-shirt and jeans or a proper dress right now. And I don't ever want to see you dressed like that again!"

She pouted and walked off. As she stormed away, I breathed in an extremely potent and noticeable air of perfume. I had never smelled anything like it. To say it was 'pleasant' would be an understatement; it smelled something like a mix of honey and pollen, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it might be. As she exited, I followed her hips switching back and forth in a manner that HAD to be deliberate. However, I couldn't dare linger on that, and I forced myself to avert my gaze when I felt my cock move yet again.

Rhonda did change like I asked, but the t-shirt she chose was tight enough to make it obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra and the jeans she changed into looked practically painted onto her body. I decided to just let it go and did my best not to look. However, that was easier said than done, as every time that scent entered the room, my eyes unconsciously diverted upward until I forced them to look away again.

I was aroused all damn day until Eileen got home from her job. She took one step in the door and I yanked her through the house and dragged her to the bedroom. I stripped both her and myself naked in record time, plunked my cock inside her, and began fucking her like I was drilling for oil. Eileen screamed with orgasm after orgasm while I slammed her pussy, and the slurping, slapping noise of our sex filled the room until I inevitably punched in deep and emptied my balls inside of her.

"Goddamn," she groaned as I rolled off of her, both of us gasping for breath. "Was someone thinking of ME all day?"

"Jesus, baby," I exclaimed. "Something made me exceptionally hot for you, and I just had to have you as soon as possible."

She smiled. "Well if you figure out what it was, get some more of it. I like those sorts of surprises after a hard day's work."

We shared a laugh, but I began to feel a bit guilty. I had been thinking about the way our daughter looked, in both of those outfits she wore, along with that amazing perfume she sported. Eileen, fortunately, looked enough like her that I was able to transfer my lust directly onto my wife, but when I shot my load, it was my daughter's cunt I was thinking about.

I wondered if I had lost my mind. What the hell sort of freak thought that way about his own little girl?

But the mental image was making me rock hard again. Eileen noticed, and with a grin on her face, she began stroking my stiffy.

"Damn, he's awake already?" she teased lustfully. "Well, if he still wants to play, then Eileen is good and ready for him."

That was all that I needed. I pulled Eileen on top of me, and she slid my hard cock right up her tunnel. My wife rode me cowgirl, bucking her hips and shaking her head wildly. She was hot as hell, but my mind kept swapping the image of her with one of Rhonda. Even though she was only eighteen, Rhonda's tits were almost as big as my wife's and when I reached out to grab Eileen's delectable breasts, I fantasized that it was Rhonda's.

Eileen rode me for another half an hour until I exploded inside her again, and then we spent the rest of the night in an embrace.

******

Rhonda followed my instructions and never wore that outfit again. She didn't dare to challenge my rule of the house, but she found plenty of other sneaky ways to gain my attention. Coming out of the shower just at the right time for me to "accidentally" bump into her without a towel wrapped around her; her glistening body covered in steam, with thousands of tiny water dripping from every curve. Laying on her bed stripped to a bra and panties when I would come in to lecture her about moving the TV remote without putting it back in its proper place, wiggling her ass under the thin material of her underwear, apparently unable to hear me with her headphones on. Asking me to help "zip her up" when she wanted to wear a dress out on a date—despite the fact that I never saw her with a boy.

At first, I thought she was just being defiant, like most teenagers are, but then I saw that she only acted this way around me. One time, I came home early from work and found her dressed rather conservatively, in a very practical dress, with only herself and her mother present. But, as soon as I was home, she'd dare to walk around in nothing but a t-shirt. One late night, with her pajama top unbuttoned past her navel, she got up to "get something to drink" three times in a row, giving me a "Hey Daddy" every single time so that I knew she was there and notice her bouncing cleavage.

I don't think Eileen either noticed or cared. I was constantly horny and perfectly willing to fuck her at all times of the day. Eventually, the increased amount of sex jump-started her libido as well, and the two of us couldn't keep our hands off of one-another.

"You sure you're not cheating on me?" she asked one night after I'd come inside her for like the third time.

"Of course not," I protested. "I'd NEVER do that to you."

"It's just that . . . increased sexual activity is usually the first sign of cheating," she told me. "I don't mean to imply anything, but it's just—"

I held her hand as I lay next to her, gazing into her loving eyes. "Sweetie, you remained faithful to me for nine months while I was locked away in that hellhole. I would never, ever, in a million years think of cheating on you."

She smiled and kissed me, satisfied with my answer.

A few weeks later, she announced that she was pregnant with our second child. It was the proudest moment of my life all over again.

******

Another week after that announcement, I had to take a few of days off from work. I came down with some sort of germ that had been floating around town. I thought I'd caught it from my wife, who had a mild case of it just a week before I did. It put me in traction pretty good, and I stayed in bed all day while my wife left for work and told me to call her if I needed anything. I settled in for a long day of coughing, sneezing and TV-watching when I heard my door creak open.

"Hey Daddy," I heard.

"Hey princess," I answered. Then, it hit me that it was past time for her to be in class. "Ronnie, what are you doing ho—"

I looked up and saw my daughter approaching my bed dressed in a see-through nightie. She stepped slowly, deliberately, wagging her hips back and forth as she walked. A wide grin on her face, she slowly crept onto the bed with me, staring into my eyes the whole while.

"R-Ronnie! What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

"I can't wait anymore, Daddy," she told me breathlessly. "I've been trying to get through to you for the past two months, but you keep ignoring me." She gripped my blankets and pulled them off of my body. "And the last straw was when you gave The Bitch what I wanted. It's not fair. Why does she get to have your baby and not me?!"

Her words left me dumbfounded . . . and HORRIFIED. "Ronnie . . . are . . . are you talking about your mother!?"

"Like I said, The Bitch," she repeated, raising my top and beginning to rub her hands over my chest. "You may have forgotten what she did to us. The nine months she took you away from me. But I haven't."

She reached down and looped her fingers under my pajama bottoms, beginning to slide them down.

I tried to stop her, but any movement made my head burst into a fiery headache. Practically every thought was agony.

"Easy, Daddy," Rhonda said softly. "The virus I gave you is pretty nasty. Trying to move too much will only worsen your condition."

Through my pounding headache, I barely made out what she'd said. "W-What . . .? Virus . . . YOU gave me?"

"That's right," she told me with a wicked grin. "A boy in school came down with this germ two weeks ago. I got myself immunized but managed to secure a sample of his saliva." She pointed to a hickey on her neck. Her grin widened as she added, "Boys will do anything if they think you're gonna fuck 'em."

By this point, she had my bottoms all the way off, and she was lovingly caressing my cock with her slender fingers. "But, don't you worry any, Daddy. Your daughter's still pure. But, you've made me wait SO long. I had to take matters into my own hands. That was why I intentionally infected The Bitch first with a milder version and then spread the culture over your favorite glass, just waiting for you to drink from it. And last night, you finally did. I'm so happy, Daddy!"

Without my permission, my dick stiffened to rock hardness as she continued to play with it, and then Rhonda leaned forward and began to lick my shaft, barely touching my throbbing veins with the tip of her warm tongue.

"I love the way you taste," she cooed. "It's like I always imagined it."

I was growing desperate to stop this, but between my headache above and the sensation she gave me below, I was caught in the vortex of heaven and hell. All I could do was moan, and try futilely to push her away.

"Ronnie, you . . . you can't do this," I squeaked.

"I can, Dad. You can't stop me. The germ won't kill you, and in a few days you'll be totally healthy again, so in the meantime, you're all mine." She leaned forward, placing her hot breath on my neck and allowing that same scent to penetrate my clogged nostrils. "And we're going to keep this private, won't we Daddy?"

"Sweetheart," I said, trying desperately to appeal to her sense of reason. "That wasn't what I meant. And what you're trying to do now is both rape and incest."

She chuckled. "How can it be rape if you want it so badly, silly?" She gave my balls a firm squeeze. "I've seen how much you've fucked The Bitch after I worked you up, and it's not fair. Why should she get the benefit of all MY hard work? And as for 'incest' . . ." She kissed me on the lips before continuing. "That's what makes this so GOOD, isn't it?"

She reached down and pulled her nightie over her head, revealing her firm, perky breasts and her gorgeous, nubile body. She was in better shape, with better attributes, than Eileen had ever been. Rhonda was an absolutely perfect specimen of feminine form and dexterity. Her breasts were already B cups, full and shapely, with the promise of growing even larger as she aged. As hard as it was for me to believe it at that point, Rhonda was still a teenager with plenty of time to grow and mature, but even at that barely-legal age, she was more than a match for women years older.

Just looking at her made my cock grow unconsciously larger. My headache receded ever so slightly, as though just looking at a healthy young pair of tits was a remedy for my illness.

"Oh, Daddy, see? You want this as much as I do. Oh . . . I can't stand it anymore! I've wanted you for years now, and now I can finally have you!"

Rhonda wasn't waiting for my consent. She swung her leg over my hips and placed her hole directly above my cock. Then, aggressively, she sank down on my pipe.

"Oh God, Daddy! You're so big! I don't even know if it can all fit . . .!"

She wasn't kidding. Her cunt was remarkably tight, and she slowly but steady squeezed my head inside. Once that was done, though, the rest of her walls seemed to conform to the shape of my manhood, making it much easier to slip through.

"Oh, Daddy. You're almost there—I can feel you inside me. Oh, you're about to take my virginity, Daddy!"

She pushed her hips downward and screamed in pain when my cock pierced her. The way she hollered, I was afraid that someone would break through the window and catch us. As conflicted as I was about this entire scenario, I wasn't exactly eager to broadcast it to the world, either. There's really no words you could offer your neighbors or the press when they catch your eighteen-year-old daughter riding your cock.

"Mmm! That hurts so GOOD, Daddy," she breathed, beginning to grind her hips against me. "I'm so glad that you're my first. You were the one who taught me everything I know. And now, I'm going to show you how much I've learned about other things."

She began to thrust on my hips, moving her thighs both back and forth and up and down at the exact same time. She placed her bare feet flat on the mattress and let her hips do all the work while her pussy squeezed and caressed my cock deep inside. The whole time, she moaned and sighed as she worked, shutting her eyes tightly while she vigorously fucked me.

The combination of my nausea and the feeling of having such a tight pussy squeezing my cock brought me to a state that I could barely even perceive. I couldn't even call it pleasure—not really. It was purely an out-of-body experience, as though I was feeling my entire bed float above the clouds while an angel road me like a wild buck.

Or maybe, it was more like a fallen variety of angel.

"Oh God, oh God! You're making me cum so much, Daddy! I love it, I love it!" Ronnie was screaming. Her hands slipped under my top, her fingers exploring every crevice of my chest. I could barely breathe, but my body tingled from the excitement of my daughter's caress.

"Daddy, I'm cumming again! Please, cum inside me, Daddy! Please . . . I wanna feel it!" Some part of me deep down was trying to fight it, but my conscious mind was gone. My body was on pure auto-pilot at the moment, with only my daughter's cries and moans of ecstasy to anchor me to reality.

"Please, Daddy. Cum inside me. Maybe you'll even give me the baby that I've always wanted . . ."

I think that's what did it. I always had a kink for getting a woman pregnant, and that's what had made sex with Eileen so much fun when we were trying for our first and second child. There's something about feeling your cock explode inside a pussy that's just out of this world, and a few seconds after my daughter spoke, I didn't really care what pussy it was. I came fiercely, and it felt like lightning struck my skull. My headache and the intensity of my climax caused me to black out just as I shot my sperm directly into my daughter's cunt.

******

I woke up when Eileen came in and turned the light to the bedroom on. I felt like absolute shit, and the light only exacerbated that tenfold. "Sorry," she apologized, "I just need to see so I can take my jewelry off."

I tried to sit up and look around, my mind still in a fog. I vaguely remembered that something had occurred in our room, but it was faded and distorted like a dream. Eileen quickly changed out of her work clothes and turned the light back out, allowing me to sigh in relief as I put my head back on the pillow. My wife then crawled next to me, gazing at me sympathetically.

"Hey, sweetie," she cooed. "How are you feeling?"

"Worse," I answered glumly. "And I didn't even think that was POSSIBLE."

"Poor baby," she said, putting a hand on my forehead. "Geez, I better get you another cold towel. And I'll bring some Tylenol and a glass of water."

"Thanks, darling," I told her. "You're the best."

She blew me a kiss as she exited the room, and I stared back up at the ceiling.

Had what I imagined really happened? Or had I just dreamed the whole thing? It was hard for me to imagine that my little Rhonda would even be capable of what I could barely piece together, but the 'dream' was far too vivid.

In the end, though, I was way too sick to do a thing, so I decided to just let it go for now.

******

A few days later, I was mostly recovered, but still sick as a dog. I decided to take one more day off of work to get the last of my bug out of my system, but I was functional. I was able to see my wife to the door and kiss her goodbye as she left for work. I also gave her an extra kiss on the belly and said it was for our expectant guest. Eileen left with a huge smile on her face.

Once I was alone, I decided to sit down and go through some bills. Since I had some time, I figured I might as well knock out a few.

However, no sooner had I sat than my vision was drawn by the sight of my daughter, dressed in a lacey set of bra and panties, leaning in the doorway.




Daddy's Little Psychopath



"Hi again, Daddy," she purred.

My eyes widened immediately. "So . . . that WASN'T a dream, then?"

"Of course not, Daddy," she told me, slowly walking toward me. "But it WAS dreamy. You and me, alone, your cock in my pussy while I mounted you like a bull. God, it's gotten me wet every time I've thought about it."

I stood from my chair and backed away from her. "Why are you doing this, Ronnie? What do you want from me?"

She giggled. "That's a silly question, isn't it? I want YOU. I want to fuck you, Daddy, like we were always meant to." She continued to move forward, her hips gently swaying, and her breasts heaving with each step.

"Ronnie, this is impossible. I'm your father!"

"So?" she answered nonchalantly. "I want you, and that's all that matters."

"No, goddammit, Ronnie!" I had backed myself into a wall, and she was taking the opportunity to approach me quicker. "Ronnie, just stay away from me. I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't stop now, I'll—"

"You'll what? You'll hit me?" she asked. "Just like you raped me the other day?"

My mouth fell. "What . . . what are you talking about?"

"For years, I've making 'anonymous' emails that I was afraid that my father wanted to abuse me. Glancing at me inappropriately, hurting me, even making me require therapy at one point. Right now, said emails are under an internet handle and email address of no real consequence. But, all it would take is for one bright person to make the connection to our IP address and then—."

I shook my head. "But that . . . that wouldn't prove anything!"

"Maybe, but the semen I collected in my pussy may just provide grounds for a trial. Sure, you may get acquitted on insufficient evidence, but you are a convicted felon only years removed from probation, and the press would NEVER believe that you were innocent. They'd dog you forever, and everybody would be convinced that you'd merely 'gotten away with it'"

She smiled wider and stepped even closer. "And would your 'dear', 'sweet' wife stick by you this time? Do you think she won't assume the worst, like she always does? And what about the time you 'kidnapped' your poor little girl and took her to a motel? Do you think all of that would stack up to make you look innocent?"

My heart sank with every word my daughter spoke. I didn't know whether or not what she was saying could really happen, but I didn't want to know, either. I had almost spent an uncomfortable three years behind bars already, and I was in no rush to go back, even if it was only through the length of a trial. And of course, she was right about the 'kidnapping'—even though my wife had dropped that charge, it could still be used against my character.

As she saw the dawning dread in my eyes, Rhonda carefully licked her fingers and then stuck them into her panties, slowly fingering her moist clit.

"You're going to have to make a choice, Daddy. Fuck me, or call my bluff. It's up to you."

It was a lose-lose scenario, and I wasn't ready to make that decision yet. I decided to do a little bluffing of my own.

"You've been to counseling for extremely disturbed behavior, Ronnie," I said confidently. Completely unfazed by my words, she continued to toy with her clit and squeeze her breast with her free hand, moaning loudly as I spoke. It was like what I was saying didn't matter one whit to her, and I could feel my resolve cracking as she just masturbated in front of me without a care. "If I point that out, as well as what you did to Teddy—"

Ronnie immediately started to laugh. "Teddy confessed that he started the whole thing shortly after I went to counseling, Daddy. I was given a clean bill of mental health, aside from being a little . . . emotionally detached, as they called it. It was actually pretty easy. 'Mommy' wanted so desperately to fix me, so I gave her what she wanted. Imagine her joy when they said I just wasn't getting enough love from The Bitch at home, and that with a little more love and tenderness, I would be her sweet little girl again. And I gave her exactly what she needed. As far as anyone else is concerned, I'm just a normal teenage girl . . . with an IQ over 140, of course.

"Still, they may start taking another look at my history and wonder whether or not I began acting out as a 'cry for help' because my Daddy was giving me such dirty, explicitly subliminal reading like 'The 30 Best Ways To Pleasure A Man' or 'How To Satisfy An Older Partner'."

"What . . . what the hell are you talking about?!" I demanded.

"Oh, you didn't see those little expenses on your credit card? You've never seemed to mind buying books for me, so I took a few liberties. I copied down your credit information and made a few purchases of my own. Oh, and I still have the receipts hidden someplace safe . . . just in case I ever have need of them again. You never know when you might need to show a proof of purchase."

This was absolutely insane! My daughter had been plotting against me this WHOLE TIME?! All these years, she was just waiting to spring this trap on me?

"Oooooh, aren't I bad, Daddy?" She gasped, apparently beginning to climax from her fingering. "Don't you . . . unh . . . don't you just want to SPANK me like . . . aaahh . . . like you did seven years ago!?"

"Why would you do this?!" I asked again, this time as tears began forming. "I've always loved you . . . I've always fought for you . . .!"

"And that's exactly why, Daddy," she said, completing her orgasm and finally stepping within arm's length of me. "No one else gave a damn for me. Not Teddy. Not Uncle. And certainly not The Bitch. You fought for me. Just you. You went to jail for me, and all I've done is think of ways to pay you back for it.

"But, I will NOT have my feelings refused. So, that's why I spent YEARS planning all of this. If you refuse me . . . if you tell anyone what we've done . . . I will bury you. I care for you, but if I can't have you, then SHE can't either. Oh, and if you try to tell The Bitch, or warn her in any way? I'll make sure that both she and the 'hellspawn in the making' that's festering inside her suffer. And believe me . . . I've dreamt of ways to hurt her for seven years. I have come up with over a dozen methods that I could whip up just this afternoon. And it won't matter if I get caught afterwards—I will make sure that SHE PAYS FIRST."

I rubbed my hands through my hair, trying to think of some desperate way to get out of this nightmare. This was a joke. A sick joke. All of this could have just been an elaborate bluff . . . but how could I possibly know? She had been smart enough to poison me and make me sick long enough to put this plan into effect, and she was far more intelligent than either Eileen or myself. There was no possible means for me to know whether she was being serious or not . . . but could I really risk so much!?   

"Why is this so hard for you, Daddy? All you have to do is fuck a tight young cunt. That's all you have to do and everybody's happy. You're happy. I'm happy. And The Bitch will never know."

With despair clutching at my heart, her words began to make sense. Desperation was feeding her insane logic to me, and I was beginning to accept it, piece by piece. And if that wasn't enough, then watching her slowly fucking herself with her own fingers, wearing that same perfume that always drove me crazy was certainly going a long way to help me complete my journey toward insanity.

"O-Okay, Ronnie . . ." I said defeatedly. "You win."

"Gooood," she moaned with her finger still inside her pussy. "Then what I want you to do first is drop your pants and take out your cock. Right now."

I did exactly what she asked, swallowing my pride and my morals and dropping my pants and boxers right in front of my daughter. I half-hoped that my cock would wilt and curb her interest, but there was little chance of that. The bastard was at full attention—in fact, maybe even longer than it'd been in my life. Ronnie eyed me with great satisfaction and licked her lips ravenously.

"We're going to start 'silent time' now, Dad," she told me. "That means that you will not talk back to me unless I ask you a question or tell you to speak. Understand?"

I nodded.

She leaned against me and wrapped her fingers around my cock, gently stroking it even as she looked me right in the eyes. "Here are the ground rules. Whenever I tell you to, you will drop your pants for me," she said. "I don't care about the time or the circumstance. If I call you at work, you will do it, and don't believe that I won't know. And if The Bitch is home when I want you, you will NOT touch her and will save every ounce of your cum for me. I don't care what excuse you have to make up.

"Keep in mind that the more we fuck, the more firepower I'll have against you if you decide to betray me. If you want to fight this, then out of my respect for you, I'll be honest: you'd best take your chances now."

I swallowed hard, tempted to jump at that chance. But, I just couldn't. I don't know why. Was I afraid for Eileen and the baby's safety? Was I scared for my reputation? Was I afraid of my daughter? Was I just that turned on?

There was no way to be sure, really. Maybe it was all of the above.

When I didn't fight her, and remained totally silent, she smiled triumphantly. "Put your pants back on and follow me into my room. You're going to fuck me until you burst inside of my pussy. Come on, Daddy . . . I can hardly wait to get you inside me . . .!"

And so began the second occasion when I fucked my daughter, right in her own bed.

Before we started, Rhonda fumbled with my pants and yanked my belt right off. "If you hate me right now, then whip me, Daddy! Whip your evil, mean little daughter's naked ass, just like seven years ago!"

I knew she was egging me on, but by that point I didn't care. I turned her over and whipped her tight little ass with my belt until it turned a vicious purple. But she only growled and begged me for more.

After we stripped naked and I mounted her, I just let all of my inhibitions go and did my best to make the most of it. Like I said before, I had been fucking my wife for weeks with the image of my daughter in my mind, and that made transitioning into the real thing that much easier. There was still some bitterness that I felt about this whole arrangement, and the guilt was tearing me apart. I channeled those emotions into punishing her pussy with the most hammering, violent thrusts I could manage.   

But that only served to make her cum faster. "Oh yes! Oh God! Fuck me Daddy! Harder! Rape me, Daddy! Rape your precious daughter's tight little cunt!"

Despite every shred of decency I had, her words were overpowering me and making it that much easier to give in to passion and lust. She was right—right now, I hated her, but that was translating into one of the most intense fuckings I'd ever had. I gripped the headboard of my daughter's bed and slammed my hips as I fucked her harder and harder. She reached up and clawed at my back, moaning and hollering in ecstasy at feeling my manhood inside her, stoking my rage and animal lust even higher. I put my hands around her throat and squeezed, even as I slammed my cock into her pussy over and over.

"Gak! Yes!! Choke me!! Choke your little slut daughter! Choke her while you fuck her brains out!"

As much as I hate to say it, I was getting off on it as much as she was, and it only served to make my orgasm twenty times more powerful when I erupted inside of her.

Later, I discovered that she had a video camera set up in her room to record our liaisons, and she used it and several carefully choreographed conversations to make the blackmail even more effective. To be fair, she did warn me, but the reality of it really struck home. There was no turning back now . . . not unless I was prepared to lose everything.

Ronnie relished her control over me. One day, she called me on her cell phone and told me to pull my pants down while I stood at a subway stop, in front of a crowd of people. At first, I started to protest, but then I remembered her warning. I did just as she asked, to the disgust of several onlookers and fellow commuters. Almost immediately after I did so, she said that would do, so I pulled my pants back on and simply tried my best not to look anyone in the eye. To this day, I have no idea how she was monitoring me, but she'd proven that she was serious about knowing if I'd follow her instructions.

Also, she occasionally reminded me of my position by threatening Eileen. One time, she told me that she'd given my wife a slow-acting poison, but that she could give her an antidote before it did anything but gave her a mild cough and a headache. To earn the antidote, naturally, I would have to fuck my daughter and cum inside her a certain number of times.

It took me three days to reach her quota, and sure enough, Eileen came down with a headache, cough and fever just before I completed it. Ronnie said that she would do this and other equally heinous things sporadically over time so that if I ever thought about betraying her, I would never know whether or not my wife was poisoned. And when my son William was born, she amended her threats against him, too.

"I don't see him as family, let alone a 'brother'," she told me. "He came out of The Bitch's womb, so he's pure filth as far as I'm concerned." Then, naked, she slid into my lap and said, "I came out of her too, and that's why I'm so bad, Daddy. She taints everything she touches. But the baby we make, Daddy? It'll be beautiful. And because I'm such a cocktease at school, nobody's going to question that a slut like me got knocked up."

It was 'silent time', so I couldn't do anything but nod as she rode me to climax, forcing my spunk deep into her hot belly.

In the meantime, sex with my wife increased just as much. Every single day, I was fucking someone—if it wasn't my wife, it was my daughter. I was getting close to forty now, but my sex drive was more akin to a man HALF my age.

"Are you SURE you're not cheating on me?!" My wife joked in bed a second time. "Aw hell, I almost don't care if you are. I haven't been so satisfied since our honeymoon. So whatever you're doing, or whoever you're fucking, just make sure you save some for me."

I kissed her and laughed, but I had never felt guiltier in my life.

About a year later, Rhonda finally got pregnant, and Eileen demanded to know who the father was. Rhonda didn't tell her of course, claiming that she had 'fucked around a lot' at school. Eileen tried to look to me for support, but I only shrugged and did my best to avoid her eyes. There was nothing my wife could do but surrender. As Rhonda had predicted, her mother wouldn't kick her out because once she finished getting her doctorate and selected one of the dozens of job offers that were swarming us, Ronnie would be the biggest breadwinner in our entire family. No matter how upset Eileen got, she wouldn't kill the golden goose.

As the months went by, I became settled into my situation more and more. Despite myself, I began to enjoy having two lovers . . . it was exhilarating, especially considering one of them was a young woman who held so much power over me. Of course, the fact that I was screwing my own daughter still made me a bit squeamish, but the kink of it was starting to grow on me as well.

Ronnie had begun to train and condition me . . . like a pet or a mule. She knew just how far to push me, just the right buttons to press to keep my attention, and exactly how to fuck me to make me cum buckets inside her. I was still betraying my wife, and I knew that despite my reasonings, any real excuses were long past, but I just let go. I turned completely into my daughter's slave, and a large part of me enjoyed the hell out of it.

My third child—and Rhonda's first—was born nine months after that, just before she turned twenty. In one way, Ronnie was right: he was beautiful. The proud new mommy then told me that we were getting to work with number two.

"You gave The Bitch two brats, so I think it's only fair you gave me three," she said. "After that . . . well, maybe I'll think about calling an end to our little fun."

Shortly after, however, Eileen got pregnant with twins.

So much for that, I guess.