Forbidden Fucktoys: a Son's Reign
Copyright© 2025 by Depraved_Angel
Chapter 19
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 19 - Dane Carver, a sixteen-year-old teenage stud with a chiseled physique and an eleven-inch cock, dominates the pussies in his world with steroid-fueled lust and brutal aggression, beginning with his gorgeous but ditzy mother and extending to his mother's friends, his teachers, and girls at his school.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa Coercion Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction School Cheating Incest Mother Son Rough Group Sex Anal Sex Oral Sex Tit-Fucking Teacher/Student
Gina Bennett sat in the back of the Uber, her body pressed against the cool leather seat, her heart pounding with a mix of shame and reluctant arousal as the Miami skyline blurred past. The city’s vibrant pulse only amplified her unease, her mind replaying the humiliating afternoon of shopping with Dane Carver and Lacey Carver. Her newly-expanded implants strained against the tight fabric of her emerald-green dress, the plunging neckline drawing the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She shifted uncomfortably, aware of every glance, her olive skin flushing under the weight of her exposure. Lacey, oblivious as ever, giggled beside her, her crimson dress barely containing her own surgically enhanced curves, her platinum blonde extensions cascading over her shoulders. Dane, dominating the front passenger seat, his six-foot-three, two-hundred-sixty-five-pound frame radiating predatory confidence, chatted casually with the driver about Miami’s nightlife, his deep voice laced with menace.
Gina’s thoughts drifted to the boutique in the Design District, where the day had taken a darker turn. After Dane’s assault on the polished, classy woman in the fitting room—a conquest that left Gina’s stomach churning with jealousy and fear—he’d dragged them to another store, a garish emporium of “slutwear” called Siren’s Lair. The shop’s neon-lit racks overflowed with skimpy bikinis, sheer dresses, and gaudy accessories, all designed to scream sex. Dane had prowled the aisles like a hunter, his green eyes glinting as he selected outfits for Gina and Lacey, each one more revealing than the last. Gina’s protests had been met with another sharp slap across her face, his massive hand leaving a stinging red mark as he growled, “You’ll wear what I fucking tell you to, slut.” Her pussy had clenched traitorously at his abusive dominance, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed in humiliation.
The first outfit Dane had chosen for Gina was a metallic gold micro-bikini, its triangles barely covering her nipples and pussy, the thin straps digging into her hips. She’d stood in the boutique’s mirror, her hourglass figure exposed, her Double-E tits spilling out, the gold fabric catching the light and drawing every eye in the store. Dane had ordered her to pose, hands on hips, chest thrust out, her olive skin glistening under the harsh fluorescents. “Look at that body,” he’d purred, his hand grazing her ass, “built to be fucked.” Gina’s cheeks had burned with shame, her feminist ideals crumbling as her pussy grew wet, the public display making her feel like a cheap whore. Yet, when Dane snapped photos with his phone, her body arched instinctively, craving his approval despite her dread of being recognized.
The second outfit was a sheer black bodysuit, its fishnet fabric leaving nothing to the imagination, her nipples and shaved pussy visible through the weave. Dane had made her try it on in the store’s open dressing area, the curtain half-drawn, exposing her to passing shoppers. “Spin for me, slut,” he’d commanded, and Gina had obeyed, her stripper heels—six-inch platforms he’d insisted on—clicking on the tile. The bodysuit hugged her curves, accentuating her tiny waist and full hips, her implants bouncing with every step. A group of college guys had leered, one muttering, “Fuck, I’d wreck that ass,” and Gina’s heart had raced, her arousal warring with her fear of Charles discovering her descent. Dane’s smirk had only deepened her shame, his hand slipping under the fabric to pinch her nipple, making her gasp audibly.
The third outfit was a red latex mini-dress, so tight it molded to her body like a second skin, the hem barely covering her ass, the neckline plunging to her navel. Dane had forced her to walk the store in it, her heels wobbling as she balanced, the latex squeaking with every step. “That’s my hot piece of ass,” he’d said loudly, drawing stares from other customers. Gina had felt like a porn star, her body objectified to the extreme, yet her pussy throbbed as Dane’s eyes raked over her, his approval a drug she couldn’t resist. He’d made her pose against a rack of lingerie, one leg raised, her dress riding up to expose her thong, and snapped more photos, muttering about her “perfect fuckdoll body.” The memory of those moments, the weight of strangers’ eyes, and Dane’s crude praise made Gina’s thighs clench in the Uber, her shame and arousal a tangled mess.
Lacey, of course, had loved every second, prancing in her own outrageous outfits—a neon pink bikini that barely covered her nipples, a white mesh crop top and micro-shorts, and a silver sequined dress that sparkled like a disco ball. The platinum-blonde had giggled and posed eagerly, her ditzy enthusiasm a stark contrast to Gina’s dread. Dane had lavished her with praise, calling her “babygirl” and “my number one slut,” his hands groping her openly as shoppers watched. Gina envied Lacey’s obliviousness, her ability to revel in Dane’s control without the gnawing fear of exposure that haunted Gina’s every move.
The Uber pulled up to their beachfront bungalow, the ocean’s crash audible through the open window. Dane tipped the driver, his hand lingering on Gina’s thigh as he helped her out, his touch sending a jolt through her core. Lacey bounced out, her crimson dress riding up to flash her thong, drawing a whistle from the driver. Dane smirked, smacking Lacey’s ass hard enough to make her yelp, then turned to Gina, his hand gripping her wrist. “Inside, sluts,” he growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Gina’s heart pounded as they entered the bungalow, the opulent interior—marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a sprawling ocean-view deck—mocking her inner turmoil.
In the master bedroom, Dane rummaged through their shopping bags, pulling out two matching bikinis he’d chosen at Siren’s Lair. They were electric blue, the fabric so sheer it was nearly transparent, the triangles tiny enough to make their morning beach photoshoot outfits look modest. “Put these on,” he ordered, tossing them to the women, along with matching seven-inch clear platform heels. “And doll yourselves up—full makeup, hair teased, the works. I want you looking like the hottest fucking sluts in Miami.” Gina’s stomach twisted, but she nodded meekly, her body already responding to his command. Lacey squealed, already stripping out of her dress, her Double-E implants bouncing as she shimmied into the bikini.
Gina retreated to the bathroom, her hands trembling as she applied heavy makeup—smoky eyeliner, crimson lipstick, and layers of mascara that made her almond eyes pop. She teased her jet-black hair into a voluminous cascade, the mirror reflecting a woman she barely recognized: a sexual object, crafted for Dane’s pleasure. The bikini clung to her curves, her nipples visible through the sheer fabric, the thong bottom exposing her ass cheeks. The stripper heels forced her to balance precariously, her calves taut, her implants thrusting forward. She felt ridiculous, yet her pussy ached, Dane’s dominance rewiring her sense of self. Lacey emerged, her platinum hair teased into a wild mane, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement, the bikini barely containing her curves. “We look so hot, Gina!” she chirped, twirling in her heels.
Dane, now dressed in a tailored black shirt and slacks, his muscular frame accentuated, nodded approvingly. “Fucking perfect,” he said, his eyes raking over them. He ordered room service—a massive ribeye for himself, light salmon salads for Gina and Lacey, and a bottle of chilled rosé. “Get out to the patio,” he commanded, leading them to the oceanfront deck, where the setting sun cast a golden glow over the beach. Gina’s nerves spiked as she realized they were on display, the low railing offering no privacy from passersby. Dane arranged them at a glass table, him in the center, Gina and Lacey flanking him, their bikinis gleaming under the patio lights.
As the server, a young man named Javier, delivered the food, his eyes lingered on Gina and Lacey, their exposed bodies drawing a smirk. Dane tipped him generously, winking as he said, “Enjoy the view, man.” Gina’s face burned, but she sipped her wine, the alcohol dulling her anxiety. Dane tore into his steak, his appetite voracious, while Gina and Lacey picked at their salads, their tiny portions a stark contrast to his indulgence. The ocean breeze teased Gina’s skin, her nipples hardening against the sheer bikini, and she caught the eyes of a group of beachgoers—mostly men, some with women—staring from the sand. Dane noticed too, his smirk widening. “Look at them, sluts,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “They’re fucking drooling over you.”
Gina tried to speak, her voice trembling. “Dane, what are we doing tonight? I just—”
He cut her off, his green eyes narrowing. “Don’t fucking worry about it, Gina. You’ll do what I tell you, when I tell you.” The menace in his tone made her pussy clench, her fear mingling with arousal. Lacey giggled, sipping her wine, oblivious to the tension. Gina’s mind raced, imagining Charles somehow stumbling across their Instagram posts, his shock at her transformation into Dane’s “Emerald Slut.” She forced herself to eat, the salmon tasteless against her growing dread.
After dinner, Dane grabbed his camera, his demeanor shifting to predatory excitement. “Time to make you sluts famous,” he said, standing and positioning them on the patio. The beach was alive with evening strollers, their eyes drawn to the spectacle. Gina’s heart pounded as Dane directed her first, ordering her to pose alone. “Lean back against the railing, tits out, one leg up,” he barked. Gina obeyed, her stripper heels clicking, her body arched to accentuate her Double-E implants, the sheer blue bikini leaving her nipples and pussy lips faintly visible. She forced a sultry smile, her olive skin glowing under the patio lights, her jet-black hair cascading over one shoulder. Dane snapped the photo, grinning. “Perfect, Emerald Slut.”
He uploaded it to her Instagram, @EmeraldSlutGina, with the caption: “Sizzling under the Miami stars, ready to make waves! #EmeraldSlutGina #MiamiNights.” Comments flooded in instantly. A woman, @StarlitVixen, wrote, “Wow, you’re absolutely stunning! Slay, queen!” But the men were cruder: @BeachBangerX commented, “Fuck, those tits are begging for my hands. Name your price, slut.” @HornyWolf22 added, “That pussy looks tight as fuck. Bet it’s dripping for a real man.” Gina’s stomach churned, but her pussy throbbed, the public objectification igniting her conflicted arousal.
Next, Dane turned to Lacey. “On your knees, babygirl, hands behind your head, tits pushed out,” he ordered. Lacey complied eagerly, her platinum hair glowing, her blue eyes sparkling as she knelt on the patio, her bikini straining against her implants. Her pose was pure submission, her ass raised slightly, the thong disappearing between her cheeks. Dane snapped the shot, his grin wicked. “My number one slut,” he murmured, uploading it to @DiamondDollLacey with the caption: “Diamond shining bright, ready to own the night! #DiamondDollLacey #MiamiVibes.” The comments rolled in: @SapphireSirenX wrote, “Gorgeous! Let’s link up, babe!” But @SandSlinger88 leered, “That ass is fucking perfect. I’d bury my cock in it all night.” @MiamiMav69 added, “Kneeling like a good slut. Bet she’s ready to please.”
For the first joint photo, Dane positioned them hip-to-hip, arms around each other’s waists, their bodies angled to emphasize their curves. “Smile like you love being my sluts,” he growled. Gina forced a smile, her arm around Lacey’s tiny waist, their implants brushing together, the bikini fabric barely containing them. Lacey beamed, her ditzy enthusiasm infectious, though Gina’s smile was strained, her eyes scanning the beach for familiar faces. Dane snapped the photo, uploading it to both accounts with the caption: “Emerald and Diamond heating up Miami, ready for anything! #BeachQueens #MiamiSluts.” Comments poured in: @LunaVamp wrote, “You two are fire! Total goddesses!” But @CoralCock sneered, “Two hot sluts begging for cock. I’d fuck you both raw.” @TideRipper added, “Line up, bitches. My dick’s ready for those holes.”
The second joint photo was more provocative. Dane ordered them to face each other, hands on each other’s hips, their tits pressed together, faces inches apart as if about to kiss. “Make it sexy, sluts,” he said, his camera clicking. Gina’s heart raced, her body trembling as Lacey’s breath grazed her lips, their implants squishing together, the sheer bikinis leaving little to the imagination. The beachgoers’ stares intensified, a group of frat guys whistling loudly. Dane uploaded the photo with the caption: “Emerald and Diamond getting close, ready to set Miami on fire! #SlutSquad #MiamiHeat.” @VelvetVixen commented, “You ladies are killing it! So hot!” But @SaltyDog69 wrote, “Fuck, I’d pay to see those sluts make out and take my cock.” @WaveCrusher added, “Tits pressed like that? I’m fucking hard already.”
Dane lowered the camera, his smirk triumphant. “You sluts are fucking naturals at thirst-trapping,” he said, his voice dripping with pride. “Every guy out there’s jerking off to you right now.”
Lacey giggled, tossing her hair, her blue eyes gleaming. “We’re so hot, Big Daddy!” she chirped, sipping her wine.
Gina forced a smile, her stomach twisting as she imagined Charles seeing the photos, her life unraveling. “You’re nervous, huh, Gina?” Dane said, his hand gripping her thigh under the table, his fingers brushing her pussy through the bikini. “Good. Keeps you wet for me.” Her body betrayed her, her pussy clenching at his touch, her fear of exposure drowned by the heat of his manipulative dominance.
The beachgoers’ stares continued, a mix of lust and judgment, and Gina’s mind raced with worst-case scenarios—Charles’s colleagues, her Brentwood neighbors, anyone who could expose her. Yet her body responded to Dane’s control, her nipples hard, her pussy soaking the bikini thong. Lacey, oblivious, leaned into Dane, her hand stroking his arm, her ditzy devotion unshaken. Gina envied her, wishing she could surrender so completely, but the weight of her double life pressed down, her arousal a constant betrayal. Dane’s plans for the night loomed, his menacing tone earlier hinting at more public degradation, and Gina’s heart pounded, her body trembling with fear and anticipation, the Miami night stretching out like a trap she couldn’t escape.
The patio lights cast long shadows, the ocean’s rhythm a mocking counterpoint to Gina’s racing pulse. Dane poured more wine, his eyes never leaving them, his dominance a palpable force. Gina sipped, the alcohol dulling her edges but not her dread. Lacey chattered about their outfits, her voice a bubbly distraction, while Dane’s hand lingered on Gina’s thigh, his fingers teasing closer to her pussy. The beachgoers’ whispers carried on the breeze—crude comments, envious murmurs—and Gina felt like a caged animal, displayed for their pleasure. Dane’s smirk said it all: he owned them, body and soul, and the night was far from over.
As the wine flowed, Gina’s thoughts spiraled, her fear of Charles’s discovery warring with her body’s craving for Dane’s control. The Instagram posts, the leering comments, the public exposure—all of it was a noose tightening around her neck, yet her pussy throbbed, her body aching for more of Dane’s brutal dominance.
Lacey’s laughter broke her reverie, her hand brushing Gina’s arm, and Gina forced a smile, her role as Dane’s “Emerald Slut” solidifying with every passing moment. The night stretched ahead, Dane’s plans a dark promise, and Gina’s body trembled, caught between terror and desire, the bungalow’s opulence a glittering cage for their depravity.
Dane tossed them each a translucent wrap—shimmering silver for Gina, glittering gold for Lacey. “Put these on, sluts,” he ordered, his green eyes glinting with predatory intent. “We’re going out.” Gina’s hands trembled as she tied the wrap around her hips, the sheer material doing little to conceal her thong-clad ass or the faint outline of her pussy. The seven-inch clear platform heels forced her to balance precariously, her olive skin glowing under the patio lights, her jet-black hair falling in voluminous waves.
Lacey, oblivious to Gina’s dread, twirled in her gold wrap, her Double-E implants bouncing, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “We look so fucking hot, Big Daddy!” she chirped, tossing her hair. Gina envied her carefree submission, her own mind racing with fear of Charles discovering her descent into Dane’s world of depravity.
Dane, dressed sharply in a tailored black shirt and slacks, his muscular physique accentuated, smirked as he led them to a waiting luxury Uber—a sleek black Escalade with tinted windows. He slid into the backseat between them, his massive frame crowding the space, his thighs pressing against theirs. The driver, a middle-aged man with a sly grin, eyed the girls in the rearview mirror, his gaze lingering on their barely covered bodies. Gina’s stomach twisted, her face flushing as she adjusted the wrap, trying to cover more of her exposed skin. Dane’s hands immediately found their legs, his fingers tracing up their thighs, sending a jolt through Gina’s core despite her fear.
“You sluts look fucking incredible,” Dane growled, his voice low and thick with pride. “You’re gonna make me so fucking proud tonight.” His hand squeezed Gina’s thigh, his fingers brushing the edge of her bikini thong, making her pussy clench traitorously.
Lacey giggled, leaning into Dane, her hand stroking his arm. “I can’t wait, Big Daddy! It’s gonna be so fun!”
Her enthusiasm grated on Gina, whose heart pounded with dread. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she dared to speak. “Dane, where are we going?”
His hand cracked across her face, the sharp sting of the bitchslap making her head snap to the side. Her cheek burned, tears pricking her eyes as her pussy throbbed, the humiliation igniting her conflicted arousal. “Don’t ask stupid fucking questions, slut,” Dane snarled, his green eyes boring into hers. “You’ll go where I tell you, and you’ll do what I say.”
Gina nodded meekly, her mind chastising herself. Stop asking, you idiot. You know better. Her body betrayed her, her pussy clenching again as she internalized his controlling dominance, the pain of the slap blending with her shameful desire.
Dane’s hands continued their assault, fondling their legs, his fingers slipping under the wraps to graze their bikini-covered pussies. “I’ve got a surprise for you sluts,” he said, his smirk widening. “Something special for my hot little fuckdolls.” Gina’s heart sank further, her fear mounting as she imagined the worst.
Lacey, oblivious, squealed with delight, her hand squeezing Dane’s arm. “A surprise? Oh, Big Daddy, I love surprises!” Gina’s silence was deafening, her body trembling under Dane’s touch, her mind a whirlwind of panic and arousal.
The Uber pulled up in front of a neon-lit building, its sign reading Velvet Vixen in bold letters. The elite strip club’s facade screamed exclusivity, its black-and-gold exterior exuding a sleazy opulence. Gina’s stomach dropped as Dane chuckled darkly. “Club’s short on dancers,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Saw their ads online, so I called and offered to bring my two sluts to dance a shift.”
Lacey squealed, clapping her hands. “Oh my God, this is gonna be so much fun! We’re gonna kill it, Gina!”
Gina’s blood ran cold, her body shaking as they stepped out of the vehicle. “Dane, please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t make me do this. What if someone recognizes me? Charles—”
Her words were cut off by a series of sharp bitchslaps, Dane’s massive hand striking her face repeatedly, each hit sending a jolt of pain and arousal through her. “Shut the fuck up, Gina,” he growled, his grip on her arm bruising as he dragged her toward the entrance. “You’ll dance, and you’ll fucking love it.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but her pussy throbbed, her body responding to his violence in ways she hated herself for. He’s right. I deserve this. I should’ve known better. She gaslit herself, normalizing his abuse as her fault, her submission deepening with every stinging slap.
Inside, the club was a haze of colored lights and pulsing music, the air thick with the scent of sweat and expensive cologne. The main stage glowed under spotlights, surrounded by plush booths filled with leering men and a few women, their eyes already locked on Gina and Lacey.
Dane strode up to the manager, a stocky man in his forties with slicked-back hair and a gold chain, who grinned broadly at the sight of the women. “Holy shit, Carver, you weren’t kidding,” the manager said, his eyes raking over Gina’s body, lingering on her Double-E implants barely concealed by the wrap. “These bitches are fucking prime. Tits like that? They’re gonna make bank.” He turned to Lacey, smirking. “And this one’s got an ass built for grinding. You girls are gonna drive the crowd wild.”
Dane smirked, smacking both women’s asses hard enough to make them yelp. “Told you my sluts are the best,” he said. “Get ‘em ready to go on stage.”
Gina’s heart raced, panic surging. “Dane, please,” she begged, her voice barely audible over the music. “I can’t—someone might know me. I’ll do anything else, just—”
Before she could finish, Dane grabbed her arm and yanked her down a dimly lit side hallway, shoving her roughly against the wall. His massive hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing until her eyes bulged, her breath catching as her pussy clenched hard. “You’ll fucking do as you’re told, you pathetic slut,” he snarled, his other hand delivering another stinging bitchslap. Her head snapped to the side, tears spilling down her cheeks as she gasped for air. “You think you get a say? You’re mine, Gina. You dance, or I’ll make you regret it.” His grip tightened, her vision swimming, her body trembling with fear and arousal.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice hoarse. “I’ll be good, I swear.” He released her, and she slumped against the wall, fighting back sobs. He’s right. I’m his. I should obey. I should stop giving him reasons to hurt me. Her mind twisted, justifying his violence, her submission a desperate shield against his wrath.
Dane dragged her back to the main room, where Lacey waited, bouncing with excitement, her gold wrap shimmering under the club’s lights. “Oh, Gina, it’s gonna be so hot!” Lacey said, grabbing her hand. “I’ll show you how to move, don’t worry!”
Gina forced a nod, her face still stinging, her heart pounding as Dane leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “You two are gonna dance together,” he said. “Grind on each other, give the crowd some good lezzie shit. Make ‘em fucking lose it.”
Lacey squealed, her blue eyes gleaming. “Yes, Big Daddy! We’ll be so sexy!” Gina’s stomach churned, but she nodded, her body trembling as she followed Lacey toward the backstage area, Dane’s smirk burning into her back.
The backstage room was cramped, lined with mirrors and littered with makeup and costumes. Lacey stripped off her wrap, revealing the sheer blue bikini, and began touching up her makeup, chattering about dance moves like the seasoned stripper she was.
Gina stood frozen, her translucent silver wrap doing nothing to ease her exposure, her Double-E implants and shaved pussy faintly visible through the bikini. The thought of dancing on stage, her body on display for strangers, made her knees weak. What if someone from Brentwood is here? What if Charles finds out? Her mind spiraled, but her pussy throbbed, Dane’s chokehold and slaps replaying in her head, her body craving his brutal control despite her terror.
A stagehand, a wiry woman with a clipboard, poked her head in. “You’re up in five, ladies. Diamond and Emerald, right?” Lacey nodded eagerly, while Gina’s throat tightened, her voice gone. The woman eyed them up and down, smirking. “Crowd’s gonna eat you alive. Get ready.”
Lacey grabbed Gina’s arm, pulling her toward a rack of props. “Let’s pick some fun stuff! Maybe something sparkly?” Gina forced a smile, her mind screaming, I can’t do this. But Dane’s voice echoed in her head, his hand around her throat, and she knew there was no escape.
Lacey handed her a pair of long, silver gloves, her enthusiasm infectious despite Gina’s dread. “These’ll look so hot with your wrap!” she said, slipping on her own gold gloves. Gina slid them on, the slick fabric clinging to her arms, her reflection in the mirror a stranger’s—a sexual object molded by Dane’s will. Her olive skin glowed, her jet-black hair teased into a wild mane, her crimson lips parted in a nervous pant.
Lacey, oblivious, practiced a hip roll, her bikini-clad ass swaying, her implants bouncing. “We’re gonna make Big Daddy so proud,” she said, winking. Gina nodded, her heart hammering, her body trembling with fear and arousal as the stagehand called, “One minute!”
They stepped toward the stage, the music swelling, a heavy bassline vibrating through the floor. Gina’s heels clicked, her legs wobbly, her wrap fluttering uselessly. Lacey grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “Just follow my lead, okay? We’ll be the hottest sluts out there.”
Gina’s eyes darted to the crowd, a sea of leering faces, their eyes hungry, their shouts already starting. Dane stood near the stage, his massive frame impossible to miss, his smirk promising more punishment if she failed him. Her pussy clenched, her fear and desire a tangled mess as the spotlight hit, bathing them in light, the crowd roaring as the music kicked into high gear.
Dane leaned against a pillar near the main stage of Velvet Vixen, his six-foot-three, two-hundred-sixty-five-pound frame dominating the dimly lit strip club. The air pulsed with a heavy bassline, the scent of sweat and cheap cologne mingling with the electric anticipation of the crowd—a mix of suited businessmen, frat bros, and a few women, all hungry for the show.
His tailored black shirt clung to his steroid-pumped muscles, his green eyes glinting with predatory pride as he watched Lacey and Gina step into the spotlight, their sheer electric-blue bikinis shimmering, their translucent wraps—gold for Lacey, silver for Gina—barely concealing their surgically enhanced curves. His eleven-inch cock throbbed against his slacks, already hard at the sight of his sluts, molded by his will into perfect fuckdolls.
Lacey, his thirty-two-year-old mother, strutted out with ditzy confidence, her platinum blonde hair teased into a wild mane, her Double-E implants bouncing with each step in her seven-inch platform heels. Her blue eyes sparkled, her full lips curved in a sultry smile as she blew kisses to the crowd, her gold wrap fluttering to reveal her thong-clad ass.
Gina, the thirty-six-year-old trophy wife, trailed behind, her olive skin glowing, her jet-black hair cascading over her shoulders. Her almond eyes darted nervously, her crimson lips trembling as she clutched her silver wrap, her Double-E tits straining against the bikini, her heels wobbling.
The crowd roared, men whistling and shouting, “Show us those tits!” and “Shake that ass, sluts!” Dane’s cock twitched, his smirk widening. Look at my bitches, fucking perfect. Lacey’s ready to own this stage, and Gina’s scared shitless. Fuck, that fear makes me hard.
The DJ’s voice boomed, “Give it up for Diamond and Emerald, Miami’s hottest new duo!” The opening beats of Pour It Up by Rihanna thumped through the speakers, and Lacey sprang into action, her hips rolling with practiced ease, her hands sliding over her curves, teasing the wrap’s hem to flash her thong. She spun, her ass jiggling, then dropped low, spreading her thighs to give the crowd a view of her barely covered pussy, her bikini thong clinging to her lips.
The men near the stage leaned forward, their eyes glued to her, one tossing a handful of ones that fluttered to the floor. Lacey winked, crawling toward him, her implants swaying, her tongue flicking out playfully.
Gina stood frozen, her body rigid, her eyes darting to Dane. He narrowed his gaze, his jaw clenching, his hand twitching as if ready to slap her into compliance. Get moving, you dumb slut, or I’ll drag you off that stage and beat your ass raw.
She seemed to get the mssage. Her eyes widened, panic flashing, and she stumbled into motion, mimicking Lacey’s hip sways, her movements stiff and awkward. She raised her arms, her silver wrap slipping to reveal her bikini top, her tits bouncing as she forced a smile. The crowd cheered, a frat bro yelling, “Yeah, bitch, shake those fake tits!” Gina’s face flushed, but she kept moving, her eyes flicking to Lacey, copying her dip and sway, her heels clicking uncertainly.
Dane’s cock throbbed harder, his hand adjusting his bulge as he watched Gina’s terror-fueled obedience. Fuck, she’s scared shitless, and it’s so fucking hot. Those big, fake tits bouncing, her ass jiggling—she’s learning, but she knows I’ll fuck her up if she screws this.
His hand twitched, craving the sting of another bitchslap across her olive skin, the way her pussy would clench when he punished her. Lacey, his perfect slut, owned the stage, her enthusiasm infectious, while Gina’s fear only amplified his lust. My handiwork, turning a stuck-up bitch into a trembling stripper. Fucking masterpiece.