Dad and his friends can’t stop fucking my cunt!

Lustful Dad and his friends gang raped my teen pussy for 5 years. They brutally fisted me, made me cook, pissed in my mouth, and made me wash their feet.

I never imagined my life would turn into this endless cycle of raw, brutal sex with my own father, but that's exactly what happened. I live in our quiet suburban home with him, just the two of us since Mom died years ago. I love him deeply—he raised me, cared for me—but deep down, he's always been like a wild animal, driven by this insatiable hunger for pussy. It started one night when I was asleep in my bed, the sheets tangled around my naked body from the summer heat. I felt a rough hand clamp over my mouth, and before I could scream, his heavy weight pinned me down. 'Shh, baby girl,' he growled, his breath hot against my ear. He yanked my legs apart and shoved his thick cock straight into my dry pussy, tearing a muffled cry from my throat. He raped me hard right there in my sleep, thrusting deep and fast, his balls slapping against my ass with every brutal pump. I thrashed under him, but he held me firm, grunting like a beast as he pounded away until he flooded my insides with his hot cum.

That wasn't the end. Once he pulled out, his fingers dove in next. He forced three, then four into my sore pussy, stretching me wide. 'Look at this tight little hole,' he muttered, twisting his hand until his whole fist pushed inside me. I screamed into the pillow, my walls clenching around his wrist as he fisted me roughly, pumping in and out while I sobbed. The pain mixed with something twisted, my body betraying me with unwanted wetness. From that night on, he got addicted to my cunt. He couldn't keep his hands or his dick off me for even a minute. I'd wake up to him flipping me over, slamming into me from behind while I cooked breakfast. Or he'd drag me to the living room couch during a movie, forcing my legs open and ramming his cock into me until I was raw.

I had to drop out of college just to keep up with his demands. Classes? Friends? None of that mattered anymore. My days revolved around satisfying his beastly lust. He'd grab me by the hair, bend me over the kitchen table, and pound my pussy greedily, his hips slamming against mine as he grunted like an animal in heat. 'Take it, you little slut,' he'd snarl between thrusts, his cock stretching me wide each time. Sweat dripped from his body onto mine, and he'd slap my ass hard, leaving red marks that throbbed for hours. He made me his personal fucktoy, fucking me in every room, on the floor, against the walls—wherever the urge hit him.

It wasn't just the sex. He turned me into his servant too. 'Cook for me, clean the house, and wash my feet,' he'd order after dumping another load in my mouth. I'd kneel naked at his feet in the evenings, soaping his toes and massaging them while he watched porn on his phone, his cock twitching back to life. One time, after I finished, he stood up and aimed his piss stream right into my open mouth. 'Drink it, daughter. Swallow Daddy's warm piss.' The acrid liquid filled my mouth, spilling down my chin as I gulped it down, choking on the taste. He laughed, slapping my face hard enough to make my cheek sting. 'Good girl. Now lick my balls clean.'

He slapped me often, especially when I hesitated. 'Dress like the whore you are,' he commanded one day, tossing a pile of BDSM leather gear at me—black corset, thigh-high boots, a collar with spikes, and crotchless panties that left my pussy exposed. I had to wear it around the house, the leather biting into my skin as I scrubbed floors on all fours. He said he missed Mom, that my young body was the perfect replacement. 'Your tits are firmer, your cunt tighter,' he'd grope me and say, pinching my nipples until I yelped. I stopped seeing all my friends—no texts, no calls. He took my phone away, locked the doors. I was trapped in this hell of his making, my world shrinking to his cock and his commands.

But he didn't keep it just between us for long. One weekend, he invited his buddies over—four rough guys from his work crew, all burly and leering. 'Serve them drinks, slut,' he told me, shoving me into the living room in my leather outfit. I poured beers with shaking hands, my pussy already dripping from the fear and the exposure. They grabbed at me as I passed, fingers digging into my ass. That's when it started. My father pushed me onto the coffee table, ripping off my panties. 'She's all yours, boys. Fuck her holes raw.' They swarmed me, cocks out and hard. One shoved his dick down my throat while another rammed into my pussy, filling me from both ends. They took turns, stretching my mouth and cunt with their thick shafts, cum leaking from me as they switched.

It escalated fast. They fisted my young teenage pussy, their heavy bracelets scraping my walls as they punched in deep. One guy wore spiked rings on his fingers—he forced them inside me, the metal pricks tearing at my sensitive flesh while I screamed around the cock in my mouth. Pain shot through me, but they just laughed, twisting harder. My father and his best friend, Mike, decided to double penetrate my vagina. Dad lay back on the couch, pulling me onto his lap, his cock sliding into my slick pussy. Mike came up behind, forcing his fat dick alongside my father's, both stretching my hole impossibly wide. I felt like I was splitting open as they thrust in unison, their grunts filling the room. 'Tighten up, bitch,' Dad slapped my tits, making them bounce.

While they double-fucked my pussy, the others went for my nipples. Two guys latched on, chewing hard on the sensitive buds, teeth biting down until blood welled up. I wailed, but it only made them suck and gnaw more, pulling my breasts into their mouths. At the same time, the remaining two took my mouth— one after the other, then both trying to cram in together, fucking my face until drool and precum dripped down my chin. They pissed on me mid-fuck, streams hitting my face, my hair, soaking my leather corset. 'Open wide,' one ordered, aiming into my mouth as I gagged on cock.

The gang rape lasted hours that first night, but it became our routine. For five long years, they came over every weekend, sometimes more. I'd cook for them—naked, apron only—while they groped me at the stove, fingers in my ass or pussy as I stirred pots. One would bend me over the counter and fuck me from behind while I chopped vegetables, his thrusts making the knife shake. Then they'd make me clean up the mess—spilled beer, cum stains on the carpet—while they abused me further. I'd scrub on hands and knees, and they'd mount me doggy-style, pounding my pussy or ass without warning.

There was no personal space, no escape. They'd barge into my bedroom at all hours, kicking the door open to rape my pussy. I'd be trying to sleep, and suddenly Dad's there, flipping me over and shoving his cock inside. Or one of his friends would sneak in during the night, fisting me awake with those brutal hands. I wasn't allowed to leave the house—not for groceries, not for anything. He chained the doors, watched me like a hawk. No phone, no outside world. My body became their shared property, holes filled constantly—pussy double-stuffed, mouth gagging on multiple cocks, ass reamed while they fisted my cunt.

Years blurred into a haze of cum and pain. They'd tie me up in BDSM ropes, suspending me from the ceiling beams in the basement, whipping my ass red before taking turns. One session, they all pissed into a bowl and made me lap it up like a dog while they jerked off onto my back. Dad would grunt his animalistic sounds the whole time, especially when he double-penetrated me with Mike, their cocks rubbing together inside my stretched vagina, cum mixing as they exploded. The friends chewed my nipples raw, leaving bruises that lasted weeks. I cooked meals for ten sometimes, serving them on my knees, sucking dicks under the table as they ate.

Humiliation was constant. They'd make me beg for their cocks, slap my face if I didn't sound eager enough. 'Say you love Daddy's fist in your teen cunt,' Dad would demand, ramming it in deep. I'd choke out the words, tears streaming, as my body convulsed. Forced servitude defined me—washing their feet after they gang-fucked me, licking sweat from their balls, drinking piss straight from the source. Five years of this, no rest, no mercy. But in the twisted depths, I adapted, my pussy aching for the next invasion, even as I hated every second. Dad's hunger never faded; if anything, it grew, turning our home into a den of endless, depraved rape.