Teaching Daddy Compassion - Cover

Teaching Daddy Compassion

Copyright© 2025 by CreepyUnclePete - by Limnophile

Chapter 2

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - After Jan's father humiliates her at a sex shop, Mom helps her get revenge and teach Daddy compassion. This is the sequel to "Teaching Daughter Caution". Warning: review story tags / codes before reading! This story includes involuntary crossdressing (man forced to wear makeup and woman's clothing), pegging (woman fucking man's ass with toy), fem-dom, and daughter-dad incest.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Blackmail   Coercion   NonConsensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   CrossDressing   TransGender   Fiction   Incest   Father   Daughter   DomSub   FemaleDom   Humiliation   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Pegging   Petting   Scatology   Sex Toys   Public Sex   Caution   Revenge  

One Hour Later, at Home, Downstairs Bathroom - - - I grunted and complained, “Ugh! But this is SO uncomfortable! And SO EMBARASSING! Please!”

My wife Emily ordered, “You said you would do whatever it took, to get her to forgive you. Lean down and take it like a man. Or better yet, take it like a woman. Hehehe!” She giggled and pushed the plastic tube farther into my anus, in front of our daughter Jan, then squeezed the enema bag to push soapy water into my rectum even faster.

Jan snickered and said, “Hehehe! You look kinda hot, getting fucked with a rubber hose, Dad.”

“SHIT! I GOTTA SHIT!” I yanked the tube out and sprinted the two steps to the toilet. Brown stinky filth sprayed from my bottom as I sat.

My daughter turned on the fan, then sprayed air freshener. My wife put the enema bag back under the sink. She said, “Wipe him, Jan, while I go get the ketchup.”

I exclaimed, “KETCHUP?”

My daughter raked a wad of toilet paper over my bum, not-to-gently. “You’re about to have a period, Dad. You get to see what it’s like for women every month. Lean down and hold your ankles.”

As I did, something even bigger than the enema hose spread my anus and shoved its way inside me. “AAAGH! OW! What the HELL!” Something gooey and cold entered my abused butt.

Emily commanded, “Hold still!”

“What are you doing?”

“Like I told you, you’re having a period. Pinch it closed tight when I pull the bottle out. You don’t want a quart of ketchup all over the floor. Ready?”

I nodded and groaned in discomfort. “Ungh! Uhh. Okay.”

She pulled it out and said, “Stand up and hold still.” I wasn’t used to four-inch pumps, not at all, but I stood up. They and my blonde wig were all I wore, and my balance seemed very wonky. I repeatedly caught myself tipping forward.

She shook the bottle, and a remaining half-cup of red paste fell and dripped onto my cock and belly. Emily smeared it on my penis and scrotum, with our daughter watching! “Good. Now run for the upstairs bathroom. Put in a tampon, before it leaks out of you. Run!” She swatted my ass and stepped out of the way.

I had one holy Hell of a time trying to run to the stairs, up them, and down the hall; without breaking an ankle or unclenching my asshole.

I hurriedly dug through the bathroom closet, searching for tampons. I checked every shelf twice, but couldn’t find them. Behind me, my daughter said, “Oops. I think I put the pads and tampons in the downstairs bathroom, instead. Better go check. Hehehe!”

 
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