Amy is being punished for cheating

Ever since I came of age, my dad fucks me every night. Almost every night. My mum is a nurse working night shift and I have been taking care of dad's nighty need. Every night he slips in fucks me and leaves. I am so addicted to it that by the time I go to the bedroom, my pussy is already wet. I don't know whether mom knows or not but she gave me birth control pills that I take religiously.

At school everyone is getting a boyfriend. I figure out it's part of life. So I too get a boyfriend. Chase. A dark haired boy with striking blue eyes. After one week of dating. I let Chase fuck me. That night I go home as usual. Daddy seems super hungry for pussy tonight. Because he is in my room already. As soon as I see him I start undressing.

I feel it before I see it—the way his eyes narrow when I pull my panties down. He’s already naked, cock half-hard against his thigh, waiting for me to climb onto the bed like every other night. But tonight, something’s off. He traces a finger along my pussy lips, and I flinch. The tender rawness from Chase’s desperate, hasty fucking is still there, a phantom heat.

“You’re wet,” he says, voice flat. “But different. Smell different too.”

My throat tightens. I should lie. I should say I touched myself in the shower. But the way he stares at my cunt, like he’s reading a confession written in the slight bruise on my inner thigh, makes words die.

“I... I need to tell you something.”

He doesn’t move. Just keeps looking at me, hand still cupping my mound. “What.”

“At school. I have a boyfriend Chase—we got together. As boyfriend and girlfriend. Everyone’s doing it and it’s just... I didn’t think it would be a big deal. But then after class, he took me into the empty gym storage room and...”

His thumb presses into my clit. Not hard, but firm. “And?”

“And he fucked me. Right there. Against the mats.”

I expect him to pull away, to shout, to throw something. Instead, he grabs my hips and yanks me onto the bed, spreading my legs wide. His cock is already thick and angry, pressing against my entrance. “You let him put his dick in you?”

“Yes.” The word comes out a sob.

He thrusts in. No warning, no gentle tease. He doesn't even suck me as he usually does. Just one brutal, deep push that fills me completely. I gasp, my cunt stretching around him, still slick with Chase’s cum and my own arousal. He’s so much thicker than Chase, longer. Every inch carves a path through the remnants of someone else’s claim.

“Stupid girl. I’m going to fuck this out of you,” he growls, and starts to move.

Each stroke is punishing. His pelvis slaps against my clit with every inward drive, his hands pinning my wrists to the mattress. I’m pinned, helpless, and he’s watching my face with narrowed eyes. I can feel the anger in the way his hips snap, in the way his breath comes in ragged bursts.

“Did he make you cum?” he asks, slowing just enough to grind against my g-spot.

“Yes. Once.”

“Slut.” He speeds up, and pleasure spirals up from my core, insistent and sharp. “You really like cocks. Don't you?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

“Tell me again. Tell me his cum is still in you.”

I’m panting, tears welling. “His cum—Chase’s cum—it’s inside me still. I can feel it mixing with yours.”

He lets out a low, guttural noise, and the pace becomes frantic. His balls slap against my ass, his grip on my wrists bruising. I’m so close, the pressure coiled so tight that every thrust feels like the edge of a cliff.

“I don’t want to share you with anyone, Amy.” He’s not shouting now. His voice breaks. “I don’t want to share you.”

He drives in once more, and I feel his cock pulse as he comes, hot and thick, flooding me. Complete. Claiming. I scream through my own orgasm, walls clenching around him, milking him dry.

We lie there, tangled, his forehead pressed to mine. His eyes are wet. Tears track down his cheeks.

“I took your virginity. You are my daughter. Your pussy is mine. I don’t want to share you with anyone,” he repeats, quiet now, broken.

I reach up and touch his face. “You don’t have to. I’m yours. I’ll tell Chase it’s over tomorrow.”

He nods, but doesn’t pull out. Just stays buried inside me, trembling, holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. And I hold him back, because I know—this is the cost of wanting more.

He doesn't speak a word as he drags me from the bed to the corner of the room. My wrist is caught in cold steel first—a cuff around my left, then my right, chains rattling as he hoists them above my head, anchoring them to the eyelet bolted into the ceiling joist. I'm on my knees, then he forces me to stand, spreading my legs wide, wide, until the chains around my ankles pull taut, locking me into a trembling V.

I'm naked. Exposed. My cunt is still wet with both their cum, slick and sticky on my thighs.

He circles me. Once. Twice. The chains clink with every breath I take.

"Say it."

His voice is low, cold. Not the trembling vulnerability from before. This is a different kind of anger—calculated, deliberate. A punishment meant to be remembered.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Louder."

"I'm sorry." My voice cracks. "I'm sorry I let him touch me. I'm sorry I let him fuck me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you first."

He stops behind me, and I feel the heat of his body, the brush of his cock against the curve of my ass. Not entering. Just resting there, a threat and a promise.

"You're going to learn who you belong to."

He doesn't enter slowly. He slams into me from behind, one hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back. The chains rattle violently as my body jerks forward, then snaps back against his hips. He sets a punishing rhythm—deep, hard, relentless. Each thrust pushes the air from my lungs, forces a gasp or a cry or a moan.

"Who owns this pussy?" he growls, his free hand snaking around to grip my throat. Not choking, just holding. Owning.

"You do," I gasp. "You own me."

"Again."

"You own me. I'm yours. I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—"

"Say it like you mean it."

He pulls out and spins me around, slamming my back against the wall. The chains above me scrape against the hook, and he lifts my legs, wrapping them around his waist. Now I'm suspended, cunt wide open, completely at his mercy.

"Whose cunt is this?"

"Yours. It's yours. Only yours."

He drives into me again, and I scream. The angle is perfect—he's hitting that deep place, that spot that makes my vision blur and my toes curl. He's relentless. His hips never stop, never slow, never give me a moment to catch my breath. I'm crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks, and he licks them off, one by one.

"I'm going to fill you up," he says, voice breaking into a whisper. "Every night. Every single night. Until there's no room for anyone else's seed."

"Yes—yes—please—"

"I'm not asking, Amy."

His hand presses flat against my lower belly, and I feel him pulse inside me, another hot load spilling deep. But he doesn't stop. He fucks me through it, through his own orgasm, through the oversensitive tremor that makes him hiss through his teeth.

When he finally slows, he stays buried, forehead pressed to mine.

"You are mine."

His hand moves from my belly to my face, cupping my cheek. His eyes are wet again, but this time, there's something else in them. Possession. Devotion. A love so fierce it borders on madness.

"You belong to me, Amy, one day you will have my babies. Every single drop of cum inside you is mine. Every orgasm. Every breath. Say you understand."

"I understand." My voice is hoarse, raw, but clear. "I'm yours. I'll never let anyone else touch me again."

He kisses me then. Soft. Deep. A seal on a promise.