His fuck toy daughter 6

Mark busts his daughter after she drops her knickers for another boy, then he brutally reclaims her 16 year old cunt.

After being almost caught fucking his daughter up her bum, Mark tried to be extra careful. But Elaine was spending alot of time at home and it was almost a week since he had fucked Sophie.

Elaine had taken the Saturday off for one of her rare “family days,” and they had spent it doing all the normal, everyday things: grocery shopping at Tesco, lunch at the local pub, Sophie pretending to revise in the living room while Mark mowed the lawn and tried not to stare at the way her skirt rode up whenever she crossed her legs on the sofa. Every time her foot brushed his calf under the dinner table, it felt like fire running through him. Every time she bent to pick up a dropped pen and flashed the white cotton crotch of her knickers, his cock twitched painfully inside his jeans. But Elaine was everywhere: laughing, chatting, touching his arm, asking Sophie about her school work. There were no stolen moments. There were no quick fumbles in the hallway. There was no chance to pin her against the fridge and bury himself inside her nasty teenage fuck hole.

Sunday had been even worse. Elaine had dragged them to her sister’s house for lunch, then insisted on a long walk in Heaton Park. Sophie had worn leggings and an oversized hoodie, looking innocent and completely untouchable. She had caught his eye across the picnic blanket and mouthed “Sorry” once when Elaine wasn’t looking, then slipped her hand under the blanket to graze his thigh, just once, before pulling away again. He had spent the rest of the afternoon half hard, his jaw clenched, imagining bending the little bitch over the nearest tree and fucking her until she cried.

Monday arrived. Then Tuesday. Then the rest of the week dragged on, his frustration and horniness only getting worse.

Elaine’s schedule eased slightly, but the house felt smaller, the walls closer than ever. Sophie came home late most days, revision clubs, group study sessions, extra help from teachers preparing for exams.

When she was actually home, she stayed quiet, almost subdued. There were not as many filthy texts. There were no deliberate bent over flashes in the kitchen. There were no whispered promises in passing. She kissed him goodnight on the cheek in front of Elaine like a perfect daughter, then disappeared upstairs. Mark jerked off in the shower every morning and even in the car on the way home from work one day, replaying the kitchen-table ass fuck in his mind: the butter-slick stretch, her real tears. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

By Friday he felt he was going crazy and knew he needed to fuck the little slut, no matter what.

He again took a half day, drove home, planning to be there whenever Sophie got home from school, so that he could fuck her senseless.

The house was completely silent. He tried to keep busy, but ended up sat in the armchair facing the front door, cock already straining against his jeans, pulse hammering in his throat. He didn’t turn on the television. He didn’t make tea. He simply waited. Desperate.

The front door opened at 3:47 p.m.
Sophie stepped inside, her school bag slung over one shoulder, uniform looking exactly as usual: blouse slightly untucked, tie loose, skirt rolled high on her thighs. Her ponytail was messy, with strands sticking to her flushed cheeks. She froze the moment she saw him sitting there.

“Daddy?” Her voice cracked with surprise rather than delight. Her eyes went wide. “You’re… em home early.”

Mark stood up slowly. “Yeah. I took the afternoon off baby.”

She swallowed hard. She didn’t move closer. She didn’t flash that wicked little smile he had come to crave, she seemed off.

Mark crossed the room in four long strides, caught her face in both hands, and kissed her hard, tongue pushing past her lips. She stiffened for half a second, then melted against him and moaned softly into his mouth. But when he tried to deepen the kiss and slide a hand up her skirt, she pulled back.

“I—I need a shower,” she said quickly. “I’m all sweaty from walking. Let me just... then we can.”

He inhaled sharply and caught it immediately, the sharp, musky cologne smell, not his. It was cheap, teenage-boy stuff, clinging to her neck and her hair.

Mark’s stomach dropped.

“Who’s been touching you?” His voice came out low and dangerous.

Sophie’s eyes flicked away. “No one. Just… a crowded bus. Someone probably bumped into me.”

“Bullshit.” He grabbed her wrist, gentle but firm. “Look at me.”

She wouldn’t. She kept staring at the floor.
Not knowing what to think, he tugged her toward the stairs. “Upstairs. Now.”

She went, slow and reluctant, up to her bedroom. Mark followed her and closed the door behind them. The room smelled of her: shampoo, laundry, faint perfume. And that cologne, stronger now.

Mark locked the door.

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Her voice was small. She backed toward the bathroom.

He stepped forward. “You smell like another man. Your knickers are probably soaked with someone else’s cum right now, aren’t they?”

Her breath hitched. She shook her head no, too fast.

Mark’s hand shot out, caught her waist, spun her around, and roughly pushed her face down over the edge of her bed, her fat teenage arse up. He grabbed her skirt yanked the hem high..

Her white cotton knickers were soaked through at the gusset, a dark, sticky wet patch spreading wide and a thick white glob was already leaking from the leg hole and sliding down her inner thigh.

Mark’s cock jerked painfully inside his jeans.

He hooked two fingers into the sluts knickers and pulled the fabric aside.

Her nasty cunt was all swollen and red, glistening. Thick ropes of cum, someone else’s, dripped slowly from her stretched hole, pooling on the cotton and smearing against her puffy lips.

“You’ve been fucked you whore,” he said flatly. He didn’t know yet whether he should feel angry, disappointed or what. The realisation hit him like a dull blow, mixed with something darker and hotter.

Sophie just lay there didn’t speak.

He pushed two fingers inside her cunt, easy, no resistance at all. She was still loose and slick with another man’s load. The wet squelch filled the quiet room.

“Tell me,” he growled, pumping slowly. “Who fucked you Soph,.... TELL ME.”

She whimpered and buried her face in the duvet, ashamed and busted.

“Just some guy… after lunch. He cornered me outside the girls’ toilets. Asked if I wanted a quick fuck. I said no, I’ve got a boyfriend. He said… if your boyfriend doesn’t find out, no harm done. Im sorry daddy”

Mark’s fingers curled inside her, rubbing the front wall. More cum leaked out around them.

“And you spread for him anyway, just couldn't keep those legs closed could you slut?”

“I—” She choked on the word. “I couldn’t help it. He pushed me into the toilets. Locked the cubicle. Bent me over the sink. Pulled my knickers aside. Fucked me hard and came inside me. It was… quick. It meant nothing.”

Mark’s cock throbbed so hard it hurt.

“You let some random lad dump his load in your cunt, my cunt.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I won’t do it again. I swear.”

He pulled his fingers out. He watched another thick rope slide free and drip onto the floor.

“You’re a cheating little slut,” he said quietly. “You can’t keep your legs closed for five minutes. A guy just seems to need to look at you and you're dropping your knickers.”

She sobbed once, soft and broken.
Mark stripped quickly, jeans shoved down, hoodie yanked off, his cock springing free, hard and thick, leaking precum, veins standing out. He grabbed the sluts hips, flipped her onto her back, and spread her thighs wide.

“Look at me.” He commanded.

She did, eyes glassy, tears shining on her lashes.

He notched himself at the entrance of her cunt, felt the slick heat of another man’s cum coat his head then he slammed into her.

Sophie cried out, sharp and surprised. Her cunt was scorching, loose from the earlier fuck, slippery with foreign seed. Mark felt it all: the wet glide, the way she stretched around him, the obscene squelch as he bottomed out in her.

“Filthy fucking whore,” he snarled, starting to thrust hard, hate fucking her. “My daughter. My property. And you let some spotty little prick use this hole like a public toilet.”

“I’m sorry Daddy please ”

“Shut up.” He clamped a hand over her mouth, other hand gripping her throat, choking her slighly. “You love cock that much? You can’t even wait a week? You had to spread for the first lad who asked?”

She nodded frantically under his palm, tears spilling. She was a dirty cheating slut.

Mark pounded her even harder, the bed creaking, headboard banging the wall. The wet slap of his hips against her arse filled the room. Cum frothed around his shaft with every thrust, leaking out, soaking the sheets.

“You’re nothing but a cum-dump Soph,” he growled. “A cheating, cock-hungry slut who’ll take any dick that wants it. I own you every hole and you still let him fill you up.”

Sophie moaned against his hand like an animal. Her legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his arse, pulling him deeper into her, wanting him, needing him.

“I won’t—I won’t do it again—” she gasped when he lifted his palm.

“I don’t believe you.” He quickly flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and slammed back in her from behind. “You’ll do it the next time some lad corners you. You’ll bend over, spread your legs, take his load like a good little bitch then try to hide it. I know how cunts like you behave.”

“No—only you only Daddy, I promise...”

“Liar.” He reached under, found her clit, and rubbed hard. “Come on it. Come on the cock that owns you tou filthy cum bucket.”

She came hard, her back arching, cunt clamping down tight, gushing around him. The mix of fluids, soaked, obscene, dripped down her thighs.

Mark didn’t stop. He pounded jer through her orgasm, fucking her brutally, relentless, until his balls tightened.

“Gonna fill you again,” he rasped. “Mark over his load. Remind you who this cunt belongs to.”

“Do it daddy please reclaim me” she cried.

He buried himself deep and came, thick, pulsing jets flooding her already-full slut hole. Sophie whimpered, milking him, her body shaking.

When it was over he collapsed on top of her sweaty, panting, his cock still twitching inside her.

They stayed like that, tangled, breathing hard for long minutes.

Finally he pulled his softening cock out of her. Cum, both his and the other lad’s poured from her swollen hole, soaking the bed.

Sophie rolled over slowly. Tears streaked down her face. She looked small. Young. Guilty. How she used to when Mark or Elaine would catch her doing something naughty.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Mark stared at her, his chest tight. Anger. Possession. A twisted kind of love.

“You’re mine,” he said quietly. “Even if you’re a cheating slut. Even if you can’t keep your legs closed.”

She nodded. She reached for him.

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, then her lips, slow and tender.

“But next time,” he murmured against her mouth, “you tell me first. If you need cock that badly… you come to me. Or you ask permission.”

Her eyes widened surprise, then dark heat.
“Permission?”

He nodded once. He realised his daughter was a cheating slut, she couldn't help it. So he figured he would just make the most of it.

Sophie bit her lip. She smiled small, wicked, the old spark returning.

“Yes, Daddy.”

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