Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 03byLordOfHell©
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.
"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?
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 . . .
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.