The American Dream

Felicia gagged as her boyfriend shoved all 6 inches of his semi-flaccid cock down her amateur throat. She was hanging over the edge of the bed, face smothered in the tendril hairs of Mark Landover's musty balls, when she felt his rough hands pull his cock out of her mouth with a loud "Pop!"

He groaned deeply , "That's it, slut."

Mark was never a gentle lover by any means but this was a new side to him she was seeing. He roughly massaged her caramel tits, motorboating them in his hands while he used her face like a SS pilot seat. While he force fed his balls into her mouth, Felicia tried to make sense of how things panned out like this.

They'd been dating for 6 months and as the first American man she'd ever dated and come into contact with, Felicia had been easily enamored by Mark's straight forward alpha male protectiveness over her. He was 5'9 and 160 pounds with sandy blonde hair and eggshell white skin that contrasted with her 5'3 busty frame, olive skin and raven black hair. When she introduced him to her father, a poor Latin farmer who'd immigrated with her from Venezuela to the United States to start his own corn farm, he had looked with daunting respect at the man her daughter had brought home. Mark's first words were, "Any woman I'm with gets taken care of, Senor" And take care of her he did. He taught her the American language and culture, and after only two months swiftly moved her in with him so she wouldn't have to worry about getting a job. He was old fashioned so the only request he'd asked in return was for her to submit to him as his woman, and take care of her "duties".

Felicia's mouth slobbered as Mark continued his endless facefucking of her. He'd switched from his balls suffocating her face to his cock down her throat in his favorite position: his ass on top of her , with his cock penetrating her oral lovenest. She instantly gagged and tried to twist away but Mark reached over and held her by her head, keeping her pinned there. Her face was flushed. She could hear her heart pounding as if she was about to die. She definitely didn't think her "duties" included her being strangled to death with cock! But looking back now she knew better.

Among cleaning, doing dishes, and other things, Mark made it clear that her "duties" entailed them having sex three times a week, and he needed to be satisfied every time. She had never had sex before, and the thrill of taking Felicia's virginity and "teaching" her excited Mark even more, but it overwhelmed Felicia. If it wasn't fingering or hogtie-styled fucking, it was massaging his balls, rimming his ass, or being his cocksleeve until her throat was sure to hurt the next morning. Felicia was always exhausted by the end of it and rarely did any of those activities give her her happy ending. But Mark was doing so much for her, and as his partner they were in this 50/50... or so she thought.

By luck the phone rang. He released her from his grasp and she choked on his cock, which was still halfway fighting into her mouth, clamoring for air. Unbothered, he answered it, "Hello? Oh hola senor!"

Was that her father? She mumbled to show Mark she was confused but he ignored her, instead wiggling his cock at her sore entrance. She begrudgingly opened her throat wider.

"How's the business? ...Si si...I would assume so. I'm glad you called. Your daughter is doing just fine. I wanted to follow up with you on if you found anything in the paperwork you wanted clarification on...?"

Paperwork? Felicia scrunched her head up but was met with the rancid sag of Marks balls. She couldn't even lift up to see or hear closely what Mark and her father were talking about. Her father barely knew how to write in English. What paperwork?

"Yes... all the rules are stated in the paper. And you'd be able to see her whenever you want....Haha well we do things a little differently here in America," Felicia whiffed a sniff of Marks silent deadly farts as he smirked through the line,"I'll take good care of my future wife, Senor Gonzalez. All you have to do is sign at the bottom and mail it to me."

Sign what???! Felicia was in a state of shock and deliria as Mark's farts were suffocating her nostrils. She jerked her head, muffling a "What!!" at Mark but before her voice rang out he grabbed a fistful of her curly hair and smothered his cock down her throat even further. Her throat constricted around his angry member, trying to accommodate the unwelcome guest. She could feel him throbbing in her throat, getting off at her fear. Future wife?? Rules?? Was he making her father sign some weird contract about her??? What had she gotten her father into?

"Very well. By next week your daughter will be a Landover and get her citizenship in no time, Senor. I promise I'll take goood care of her." The evil in his eyes twinkled as he hung up leaving a gasping, cock-stuffed Felicia wriggling on the bed.

"I always knew you would be the perfect throatpussy the minute I met you. That was your father, love. From this moment forward, we're husband and wife, and as your husband I expect you to treat me like the King I am. I am the alpha in this relationship. You will call me Daddy, and speak when spoken to. Your job is to serve me. You will worship my cock, balls, and asshole morning, noon, and night when I say, where I say and how I say. You are to speak how I ask you to speak, dress how I want to dress, and clean and fuck the way I ask you to. If you disobey my rules or disobey me in any way, you and your father will be deported back to the Veneshithole you came from and pay the price severely. Do we understand each other?" Mark said his eyes glistening with anger.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. Her father had unknowingly signed away their lives to this man, and for what, their citizenships? And now she was his personal fucktoy and couldn't do anything about it. She nodded meekly, still finding it hard to breathe with Marks cock half dislodged in her throat, when he suddenly buried himself deep into her and yelled out, "Shiiiit! Swallow bitch!"

Her eyes widened. Jet after jet of warm salty sperm coated the inside of her throat, until it brimmed at her mouth. She felt Marks burning glare and swallowed quickly taking it all like a good girl. He groaned grabbing her by the hair and rubbing her face into his balls as she sucked him dry.

Drop after drop it came forever. Then, the sprinklers. Felicia gasped but it was too late. Sperm turned to urine and suddenly Felicia's stomach felt like a bottomless pit , filling with Mark's stream. She gulped and gurgled on his essence like a woman in a drought until the tip of his cock closed, and the geysers finally ceased.

He groaned then pulled out of her with a satisfied plop. Immediately she collapsed to her knees, face down on the carpet sobbing uncontrollably. He bent down so he was eye level with her, and cupped her face in his hands.

"You're such a good girl," he growled, "I expect Daddy's cock to be treated like this everyday. Do I make myself clear?"

She was shivering in his hands. He wiped a tear with one hand forcing her to look up at him,but that just caused her to recoil. The flash of anger in his eyes reminded her of her position.

"Yes...Daddy." She looked down at the floor.

"Good girl," he kissed her deep on the lips, rewarding her with his finger stroking her pussy. She squirmed as one hand twisted her busty 42DD tits, while the other fingered her clit. Tears welled in her eyes as a mixture of shame, pleasure , and fear flitted across her face at once. She gasped before she came, "Daddy!" and rode the body-shattering wave in Mark's soaked hands before breaking off their locked lips.

She didn't know what to feel but the half-delirious feeling she felt now, and Mark's lustful gaze wasn't it.

"You see what good can come when you take care of Daddy?" Mark whispered, like a father to his child.

Then he brought his ass to her face.

"Now show Daddy how well you can take care of him."

******

6 months later

A typical day went like this.

When Mark, or Daddy Mark, woke up, Felicias face was already pressed against his balls, licking him to arousal. She was no longer allowed to sleep by herself, as Mark wanted her to get used to the stench of his balls, the musk of the King she needed to serve. She gave him his morning blowjob making sure she was at eye level with her husband's cock so as not to disrespect him, before he blessed her with his pearly essence and hopped in the shower to get dressed

While he got ready for work, she batched up his favorite, green eggs and bacon strips with cheese and blueberry syrup on top. She'd greet him as Daddy, lower down to the ground immediately to greet his suit covered cock, then nurse his balls out in the open while he went to town on his gourmet meal. Felicia didn't remember the last time she'd had green eggs or a proper breakfast but she did have a feeling based on the flavor of Marks spunk as she bated him dry. For breakfast Mark would only allow his asshole or his balls to be her meal and usually Marks asshole was a feast to many of his more...interesting delights. When he finished, he would usually hold her still to get the last rancid fart out of his system, before training his cock at her throat.

Like clockwork Felicia sucked on Daddy Mark and would do so until all of him was emptied inside her. She couldn't leave until his ass had been properly licked, his balls, or both, and when he went off to work, she had to kiss his balls goodbye.

When Mark was gone, Felicia could for the first time, lounge in the house in anything she wanted. Lately Mark had dismissed his dress code maids outfit rule and instead decided she was better off naked 24/7. She cooked, cleaned, and fucked for him naked but when his car pulled out of view all she wanted to do was cry in her nightie. From the time Mark left until the time he arrived, Felicia either cried herself to sleep, watched a soap opera, or out of boredom did what he expected of her and did more cooking and cleaning. Her life had completely revolved around him now and she didnt know how she felt. On one hand, it was nothing like the blistering heat, tireless manhours on their wilted farm in Venezuela, but an emptiness had grew within her that her newfound "freedom" or life here in America couldn't give her. She had cried once as she thought about that commercial in her childhood she saw of an Venezuelan family pulling out of their American driveway smiling as treasures of gold lined their steps. If this was what the American Dream truly was, to be financially free and emotionally imprisoned, she wanted no part of it.

As for her father, he would call her every two weeks to ask how she was doing, but "Good" and "Fine"s were the only responses she could give. What else could she say? She was proud of her father for opening his business and becoming a respected farmer in the Ohio league and didn't want his chances to be blundered any way. How could she even find the words to explain her situation?

When Mark returned, she had to slip out of her informal wear and back into their routine as normal, with him being none the wiser about his wife's internal anguish.

As Mark stripped his clothes off, he cracked a can of beer open, sipping it in one hand as he jerked off in the other to Felicia slurping on his balls and asshole as usual. He was sitting legs wide on the couch, watching a rerun of the Lakers Game and she was face deep in his ass, eating him out while making sure his view was unobscured by her smooth olive toned body. He stroked himself slowly, lowering his gaze from the tv screen to the mop of black curls on his wife's saturated face, as he pondered this last year

Ah, this was definitely the American Dream. He cracked a smile to himself. In one year he'd met the exotic fuckslut of his dreams, who would treasure the toilet bowl he shit out of as long as his end of their arrangement was met, and now she was his wife and walking cocksleeve for eternity. Thanks to connections he brokered through his shady dealings, his wife and father in law were putty in his hands. He smirked and as soon as he did, lifted one leg to a half-disoriented Felicia, who looked almost grateful at the paused session before he buried her face in a rein of his farts. What an American Dream it was.