Daisy's Disgrace Pt. 41

The loneliness had been getting to Sally.

All week she had been missing Tom. She had thought it would get better over time, but it only seemed to get worse. That first week, going to the bar, going on dates, even kissing a few coworkers-that had been fun. And easy. But lately, things had only seemed to get harder. The thought of permanent separation had been weighing heavily on her.

So that day, after work, instead of driving to the hotel, she had headed home instead. Maybe they would talk, maybe they would patch things up, maybe they would just get in a huge fight and she would end up back at her hotel, but at least she was going to try.

Tom's car was in the garage, and his briefcase was in the kitchen, but her husband was nowhere to be seen. Sally had headed upstairs, thinking perhaps he was lying down for a nap.

And then she had seen the girl.

At first Sally didn't recognize her. All she saw was a young blonde in a ridiculous outfit, half of her enormous fake tits bulging out lewdly through two large holes in the front of her top. Afterwards, Sally would be surprised by the sheer enormity of the details she took in-the extreme width and length of the girl's nipples, appearing even larger in contrast to her small aereola, and the way they thrust out from her taut breasts as if they were about to burst; her belly, not perfectly flat as Sally would expect in such a fit young girl; the strange thing protruding from the perky ass cheeks. Then, of course, the girl saw her and began to scream, and Sally saw her face.

She nearly fainted.

This was her daughter. And if she was assessing the situation correctly, it seemed her husband was between their own daughter's legs, using his mouth to pleasure her. She couldn't, however, make sense of the rest of what she was seeing. What was Daisy sitting on? What was going on between her legs?

Before Sally knew it, she was striding into the room and pulling Tom away from her daughter. "I'll deal with you later," she growled, and turned on Daisy. "What in the FUCK is going on?"

Daisy was squirming. For some reason she wasn't able to move, to get down off of the bed frame. And then Sally realized why. The folds of flesh, all bunched up around the bed post, the bed post that seemed to disappear...disappear inside her...her...

"Jesus fucking christ," Sally exploded. "You're...first of all, you're fucking my husband, your own father, and second of all, you're...what are you doing, in God's name?!"

Daisy was crying too hard to speak. Sally slapped her across the face. "Answer me, you little bitch!"

"I'm prep-preparing for th-the baby," she stammered at last, unable to look at her mother. "Dad says the l-looser I am, the easier it will...the easier it will be."

Sally stared. Daisy's pussy had seemed swollen that one night, but that had been nothing compared to this. She was absolutely enormous. There was so much flesh, it didn't even look like a pussy. It was stretched so wide, Daisy might as well have a fist up inside her. And above that, thrusting out from her daughter's tiny body, what could only be her clitoris, looking now like a small cock.

"Get off my bed," Sally spat. Daisy began to struggle again, and Sally watched, disbelieving, as her already stretched pussy opened even wider, and the bed knob slipped slowly out of her. It was slimy with juice, her daughter's own pussy juice. Sally thought she might be sick. When Daisy had freed herself of the post, her labia hung down between her thighs, loose and formless, a great bulk of wrinkled pink flesh.

The girl climbed off the bed and made as if to run out of the room, but Sally caught her by the arm. "What is this?" she demanded, yanking on the tail that hung from her daughter's bottom.

"No," Daisy yelped, "don't!"

Sally did. She pulled, hard, and suddenly her daughter bent over and screamed. Sally stared as something slid out from between her daughter's cheeks, and suddenly she was holding a tail from which swung an enormous round ball of glass. Daisy was panting and moaning, her hand reaching behind her to cover herself. "Move your hand," Sally demanded, casting the disgusting toy aside. She grabbed Daisy's hand and moved it. Beneath it, between her round cheeks, her anus was red and swollen. It wasn't fully closed, but seemed to gape open.

"Sally." It was the first word her husband had spoken since he had seen her. "Don't hurt her."

Sally turned on him. "Fuck you," she spat at him. "Who do you think did this to her in the first place?"

Daisy whirled. "I like it!" she sobbed. "He didn't force me to do anything!"

Sally stared for a moment at her daughter's body, at the ludicrous way it was displayed in the tight bodysuit. Her overt sexual appearance was a startling contrast to the expression on her face-she looked innocent, embarrassed, almost humble. "You're trying to tell me," Sally said slowly, "that you chose to dress like that? That you chose to...fuck yourself with that bedpost?"

The color in Daisy's cheeks deepened. "Dad did dress me," she admitted softly, "and he did tell me to sit on the bed like that, but...but I like it. I do what he wants because I like it. I didn't want to at first. It was embarrassing and humiliating. But now, I want...I want..."

"What do you want?" Sally demanded, horrified.

Daisy glanced quickly at Tom. "I want to be used," she said quietly. "I like having big toys inside me. I like to cum. Dad calls me a little slut, and it's true! Only sluts like to feel dirty and nasty, and be humiliated, and dress like this to please their partners. Dad, tell her about the things we do together."

Sally smirked at her husband. "Yeah, Tom, tell me about the things you two do together."

She would have expected him to look sheepish (she would have expected them both to look sheepish, honestly), but to Sally's surprise, her husband only nodded. "It started out as punishment for dressing like such a slut. I couldn't believe what our daughter had turned into. You didn't see her that night, Sal, it was atrocious. She needed correction, and I did what needed to be done. I just never expected her to like it."

Daisy almost smiled. "I didn't think I would like it either. The pumps, the dildos, the peeing and...and even the shitting...I love it, Dad."

Sally stared at her daughter in horror. Again, the stark contrast between her daughter's shy demeanor and the words that came out of her mouth was like a slap in the face.

The look Tom gave his daughter was kind, but stern. "Daisy, I think I had better speak with your mother alone."

"No," Sally said flatly. "Anything you have to say can be said in front of our daughter, as it seems you don't hide anything from each other." She stared at him, suddenly imploring. "Peeing, Tom? Shitting?"

"I'll show you!" Daisy broke in. "Dad, tell me what to do. I'll show Mom. She'll see how much I enjoy it and she won't be mad at you."

Tom shook his head. "Daisy, it doesn't work like that."

"No, Tom," Sally interrupted. "I'd very much like to see this. Go on. Tell her what to do."

Tom sighed. After a moment, he turned to Daisy. "Go get your bucket."

They stood side by side for a moment, not speaking, until Daisy returned. "Squat over it," Tom ordered her. "Face away from us. Good girl. Lean forward, with your palms on the floor. There you go. Now piss into the bucket."

Sally watched as her daughter's pussy lips spread to expell a wide stream of urine into the bucket. She did indeed seem perfectly willing to perform this lewd act in front of not only her father, but her own mother as well. Sally glanced over at her husband, and was disgusted to see what looked like admiration and affection mixed with arousal on his once-beloved face.

"Why did you never ask me to piss in a bucket?" she asked him angrily, though she kept her voice quiet. "I would've done it if I'd known you liked it."

Tom never took his eyes off his daughter. "You didn't need punishment. Besides, Sal, we barely ever had sex. And you were never into the kinky stuff. You refused to even try anal, remember?"

Sally's eyebrows rose. "Oh, she likes that too, I suppose?"

Daisy paused midstream and half turned, looking over her shoulder. "I've always liked it," she said brightly. "I think it feels good."

Abruptly Sally's anger boiled over. "I've heard about enough out of you," she growled. "You may be nineteen, but you're not too old to get a spanking." She grabbed her daughter by the arm and hauled her over to the bed. Sally sat down and pushed Daisy face-down across her lap. Most of her bottom was covered by the tight white fabric, but the cut in the gussett revealed the deep crevice between her ass cheeks. Sally aimed for this when she brought her palm down on her daughter's behind, smacking her hard enough to hurt her own hand. Daisy yelped and wriggled on her lap.

"Stay still," Sally barked, and smacked her again. The girl's cheeks jiggled. Again she spanked her, and again, until the reddening vee of exposed flesh stood out in deep contrast to the white fabric of her outfit. Sally found herself mesmerized by the quivering flesh, so round and firm and supple. When she brought her hand down again, it stayed on Daisy's bottom. Her skin was hot to the touch.

"You like anal, huh?" Sally asked her.

Daisy was panting too hard to speak. She only nodded.

Sally's fingers slipped into the deep crevice and prodded a bit until she felt the puckered flesh of her anus. She looked up at Tom as she pushed her middle finger deep into Daisy's hole. He was staring at her, his eyes wide. "How does that feel?" Sally demanded.

Daisy shook her head. "It feels wrong," she moaned.

"But I thought you liked it," Sally taunted her as she began to work her finger in and out of her daughter's asshole. "I thought this is exactly what you wanted. Or maybe you'd prefer two fingers." Sally never took her eyes off her husband as she thrust a second finger in alongside the first. Daisy grunted again. "There, that's better, isn't it?"

Daisy shook her head again, her ponytail lashing like a whip. "No, please. Please stop."

"Tom, should I stop?" Sally was smiling at him now, cruelly.

Her husband stared at her a moment before slowly shaking his head. "No, don't stop. Another finger. You can take it, Daisy."

Abruptly the wriggling girl went still. Even when Sally forced another finger into her ass, she didn't move or make a sound. "I've got three fingers in your disgusting bottom," Sally growled, "and you're not even going to protest?"

Daisy lay silently on her lap. Sally could feel her tits resting heavily against her thigh and calf. She could smell what she assumed was her daughter's own pussy, which she could see clearly between the split gussett of her bodysuit. "It's no wonder you like it in the ass," she said quietly. "Look at that disgusting vagina. I've never seen anything so unnatural. No boy is ever going to want to touch you there, let alone have sex with you, and you haven't even given birth yet." She thought she could recall saying something like this earlier, when her daughter had first come home from cheerleading camp, but she was so angry that she couldn't be sure.

She felt her daughter's body tense, but the girl said nothing. Sally worked her fingers in and out of Daisy's ass a little faster. "Yeah, I bet this hole is going to get a lot of attention over the years. Better hope it's ready to take fingers and cocks from all those boys you're going to end up with." The last finger went in easier than Sally expected, and suddenly she was fingering her daughter's ass with all four digits. Only her thumb remained.

Tom had come to stand beside the bed, arms crossed, looking down at the two of them. After a moment he crouched down until he was at eye-level with his daughter's backside. Sally glanced at him. "You like that disgusting pussy? Look at it. Tell me that isn't the nastiest thing you've ever seen."

Tom looked at it. He stared for a long moment before nodding. "Yes," he said, "it is. That is the nastiest fucking cunt I've ever laid eyes on."

Again Daisy's body tensed, but still she said nothing. Sally was still fingering her daughter's ass, punishing her with all four fingers, when Tom reached out and grabbed her breast through her top. He hadn't touched her like that in ages, and Sally let out a little gasp. "What are you doing?"

Tom looked at her, still crouched beside the bed. "Why don't you take that shirt off? Here, I'll help you." He stood and began to unbutton her top, not interfering with what she was doing to Daisy. Before Sally could protest, her shirt hung open, and Tom had pulled her bra down, exposing her breasts. They were flat and limp, and Sally was embarrassed. "Don't, Tom. Not in front of Daisy."

The impact of that statement made her blush. Daisy lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw her mother's chest. Sally's blush deepened. "Don't look," she said, and covered her breasts with her free arm. To distract her daughter, she began to work her fingers in deeper until her knuckles met Daisy's sphincter.

Sally couldn't believe how easily her fingers went in. She had done a little experimentation in college, but never like this. She had always assumed that if it didn't fit in her vagina, it certainly didn't belong in her butt. But Daisy's ass seemed almost to suck her fingers inside.

Suddenly her husband spoke again. "Push your thumb in."

Sally looked at him, shocked. "That's disgusting! You want me to put my whole fist in my daughter's ass?"

"If you're going to punish her, Sal," Tom said sternly, "punish her."