Chapter 26

What was I doing? Was I punishing my daughter or just enabling her by giving her permission to indulge in her deepest dark fantasies? Was I ruining my relationship with my wife? Would things ever be the same between us after this?

“Gobbler, get your two fattest dildos and fuck the cum out of your cunt and asshole; I want to hear you tell me every graphic detail about your date with Pete tonight. I didn’t send you out to have a good time.” I called it a date – but I was being sarcastic.

I turned to my wife while Heather crawled over to the sex toys to obey my instructions.

“You are NOT the boss of Gobbler; I don’t need your help enforcing the rules,” I sneered at her. My wife looked down at the carpet in shame. “Look up at me,” I insisted that my wife turn her chin up at me. “I love you, and you are MY WIFE. I am never going to make you QUIT TEACHING, so don’t EVER PLAY THAT CARD WITH ME AGAIN! UNDERSTOOD?”

“Yes, yes, sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, Mike.”

I wasn’t sure if my wife was playing me. Heather was a master manipulator when she wanted to be. I wondered if Karen could do it as well.

“What was this about being a urinal?” my daughter joked as she sucked her two biggest dragon-dicked shaped dildos and got them lubed up before sitting down on them and forcing them up her asshole and in her cunt.

“Your father told me to offer my face to your date tonight,” my wife said.

“To piss on? Oh wow,” Heather began to pump up and down on the cock.

I thought about telling my wife that I wasn’t serious, but I decided that would make me look wishy-washy. Instead, I decided to seem merciful. “You are lucky he didn’t tell you yes. For now, I expect you both to clean the toilets with your tongue, and that is it ... You can mop the floor around the toilet,” I decided.

I’ve had my share of accidents where I missed the bowl while trying to piss with a hard-on. It was the hazards of pissing stand-up.

“But what if Steve finds out we have to do it and sprays all over the bowl?” my daughter asked as she plunged down onto that massive dildo and impaled her pussy. She nearly touched the carpet with her cunt lips before slowly rising.

“You don’t have to tell him,” I replied.

“Please don’t make me do this at work, Daddy! That bowl gets nasty, and it’s not just pissy! It gets poopy too!”

I could only imagine what a restaurant would be like. I watched my wife simmer but hold her tongue as she squatted next to her daughter. She put her hands behind her head and interlaced her fingers without being told.

“You don’t have to clean the toilets at the strip club, at school, or Hooters, but if you two cunts don’t straighten up, I will turn you into my little twin urinals!” I decided to use it as a threat. “Shoulders back, tits out, hands behind your head like Spunky!”

Heather obediently crisped up her position and fucked herself on the dildo in both her asshole and cunt.

“Good god, if Melody knew I’d drink piss, she’d make me drink a gallon of customer piss like it was Mountain Dew,” she said.

“What do you do when guys ask you to drink their piss in the booths?” my wife sneered at her daughter.

“No one has,” Heather said. She shrugged and said that a guy wanted her to piss in his drink.

“Did he offer to pay you?”

“Just 15 dollars,” Heather almost giggled over how trivial that was.

“Did you?” I asked.

“I mean, uh ... yeah, why not? I had a guy ask to smell my farts once. That’s no big deal, but I wouldn’t want to smell his – even for money.”

“I am not going to make you drink piss if you two can learn to behave! I’ve been more than lenient this past week. If a guy offers you 15 bucks to fart in your face, you WILL take it.”

“Hell, Steve thinks nothing of letting an air biscuit rip in my face now,” Heather lamented but nodded while continuing to fuck herself.

“I am not interested in hearing about Steve. I want to hear about your date with Pete.”

“You keep calling it a date, but we didn’t see a movie or go to dinner,” my daughter smiled. She told us how Pete took her to his house and called over three friends. They lined up and took turns fucking her, and then when they got off, the next one slipped in and fucked her.

“Did they use condoms?”

“No, Daddy, should they have?”

“That’s up to them, but as much cock as you catch, I would imagine it’s for their benefit more than it is yours,” I said and turned to my wife. “I need you to make an appointment for you and your whore of a daughter at the doctor to check you both for V.D.”

My wife blushed and nodded.

I would give you more detail on Pete’s story, but it truly was four or five teenage boys taking turns with my daughter, and when she satisfied them all – they started over.

“Did you cum?”

“Of course, Daddy,” Heather was so giggling and pleased with herself. It hardly seemed, despite how bruised and exhausted she looked, that she had any difficulty with being loaned out to total strangers.

I wondered if she was just pretending to enjoy it – or if she really got off on it. I was worried that they’d be too rough with her, but to hear her tell the story – they used her like a fuck doll, and that was exactly what she wanted.

“Several of those guys knew me back in high school. I am sure they thought I was a brat back then, but I barely remembered them. When can I go again?”

“I didn’t send you so you could have a party. I sent you because I am punishing you.”

“Then send Mom next time and make me have to listen to her lecture me on what she’d do if she was the boss.”

“I’d take you to the ghetto, write welfare sucks on your tits and make you offer your ass for five dollars to anyone who wanted it,” Karen snapped.

“Promises, promises,” Heather giggled playfully. Karen and her were developing a sort of rivalry at times even though at other times they worked together.

“I am not going to whore either of you out. You enjoy sex too much to do that,” I said.

“I sit on dicks all day long at Hooters,” my daughter reminded me.

“We both have sex at the club, Mike,” my wife pointed out.

Was this what I wanted for them? On some level, it turned me on to have so many men lust after my wife and daughter, and I enjoyed the fact that they answered to me. On another, I felt guilty about what I was making them do – and hearing that they enjoyed it on some level was actually a bit of a relief.

The part that I had trouble reconciling was this was supposed to be a punishment, and I was losing sight of that. Heather had ASKED me to punish her because it excited her, and it had been improving her behavior.

I made my wife French kiss her daughter while the two of them squatted on the floor. Heather continued fucking both holes with a dildo, and I allowed them to use their hands to fondle and touch each other.

Then once I was positive Heather was close to orgasm, I made her stop abruptly. The look on Heather’s face was a betrayal. She was SOO close to finishing and having an orgasm. I told her to be thankful I didn’t make her jog around the neighborhood or take a cold shower.

I told her to focus on my pleasure and suck my cock, while my wife watched with her hands behind her head. It was good to be king!

I didn’t fuck either of them that night. Instead, I bound them together but let them sleep on the bed with me. I had been making them sleep on the floor and sometimes the bathroom floor. That morning I was strict and curt with my wife. I made the two of them stand at the table while the rest of us ate breakfast.

My wife almost didn’t get to eat because she had to wait for table scraps. I sent her to school in modest but conservative clothes with no bra. Meanwhile, I dropped Heather off in a tank top and orange short-shorts with other anything on underneath. She has to change when she gets permission from Melody or Dave to be work presentable after they get done teasing her.

I was definitely much more strict on my daughter than my wife.

That evening after they prepared dinner, I sent them to complete chores around the house. I didn’t check on my wife and daughter, but I quietly reminded them that I expected them to lick the toilet bowl clean. I made them leave the door unlocked so that I could check on them, but I had no plans to do that.

That night as I was driving them to work at the club, my wife asked if she was ever going to have to date Pete.

“No, I do not think so,” I said that he probably couldn’t handle a mature woman like her.

Karen wistfully looked out the window into her reflection in the side mirror and sighed. “More like I am too old for him to be interested,” she replied. She was always putting herself down even though she was still a very desirable woman.

They were quickly gaining popularity at the club, and by Thursday night, they were almost always in a private booth when they weren’t on stage. They were raking in cash, and that was fantastic – certainly, another reason to consider leaving teaching.

I didn’t suggest it to my wife, though. I didn’t want to tease her about it. She said teaching was her life, and I couldn’t take that from her.

That night, I noticed that a Russian guy kept checking on Tityana. He was about her age with short hair. I assumed he was her boyfriend or husband. They do not normally let boyfriends and husbands hang out in the club. I was the exception, and I didn’t cause any trouble or get jealous. It probably helped that I made sure the girls sucked all of the men that worked their off by the end of the night.

The girls were also incredibly easy to work with and drama free. They knew that Barb or I’d spank them or punish them if they weren’t. They never told the DJ what to play for them. They were only late to the stage if they were collecting money from someone in the private booths, and they seldom took any sort of break.

I gave them nothing but water and maybe a snack. The rest of the girls that worked there ate candy and spent a long time in the dressing room gossiping and doing their make-up or hair. Kenny loved having them work there, and they were making a lot of money for the club.

(The more the girls make, the more they have to pay out to the house).

Tityana came over to where I was sitting and introduced the man I thought was her husband as her brother. “This is Bogdan. He has questions,” she announced curtly in her thick Russian accent. He was blonde and had blue eyes like hers.

“Why do your girls not wear any outfits between sets on stage,” Bodan’s English was even more broken than his sisters were.

“I am punishing them,” I said.

“See? I told you. It’s not to make more money,” Tityana sighed and looked at her brother sourly.

“Oh no, they are making money. They get noticed for being a little different.”