Daddy little trans slut

Daddy finally has full custody of his trans daughter

The divorce papers were finalized last Tuesday, which means I finally have full custody of Dani. No more weekend shuffles, no more forced haircuts, no more goddamn soccer camps. Just me and my girl—my real girl—safe at home where she belongs.

She’s waiting for me now, perched on the edge of the kitchen island like she owns the place, legs swinging under her pleated skirt. The schoolgirl getup is new—white knee socks, a ribbon tied loose around her throat, blouse unbuttoned just enough to show the lace trim of her bra. Not that she needs one yet, but Christ if she doesn’t want to.

"Late again, Daddy?" Dani teases, swinging her legs faster just to make the skirt ride up higher. I can already see the outline of her little cock pressing against her panties—powder blue today, lace stretched tight. She's been practicing that pout in the mirror, I can tell. The way she bites her lower lip, the flutter of her lashes—every detail engineered to wreck me. And it works.

I don't answer. Just drop my briefcase by the door and shrug out of my suit jacket, watching her eyes darken as I roll up my sleeves. She loves this part—the slow unraveling of responsibility, the way my hands look when I'm about to take something. Her breath hitches as I step between her knees, gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks. "Missed you," I growl, and her answering whimper is sweeter than anything the office ever offered.

Her panties are soaked through by the time I get my mouth on her, that tiny cock straining against my tongue. She tastes like salt and impatience, hips jerking when I suck just a little too hard. "Daddy—please—" But I'm not in the mood for begging. Not yet. I flip her onto her stomach instead, yanking the skirt up to her waist. The sight of her bare ass, pink and perfect, makes my dick throb. She's already lubed herself up, the slick shine of it glistening under the kitchen lights. Little fucking tease.

I don't bother with foreplay. Just push in with one brutal thrust, relishing the way her back arches, the choked-off scream she muffles into her own arm. She's so tight, even after all these months. "Fuck," I groan, palming her hips to keep her still. "You take it so good, baby." Her answering moan is muffled, but I feel it vibrate through me as I start to move.

Her fingers claw at the marble countertop as I drive into her, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the kitchen. I can see her reflection in the stainless steel fridge—eyes squeezed shut, lips parted around silent pleas. The schoolgirl outfit’s a joke now, her blouse twisted around her waist, that stupid ribbon dangling from her throat like a leash. I grab it, yanking her head back as I fuck her harder. “Look at you,” I grind out, watching her pupils blow wide in the reflection. “My little slut, dressed up just for me.”

She whimpers, nodding frantically, her small hands scrabbling for purchase. I know what she wants—always wants it the same way—so I reach around and take her cock in my fist, stroking in time with my thrusts. Her whole body tenses, that high, reedy moan tearing out of her throat. “Daddy—Daddy—I’m gonna—” But I tighten my grip, thumb swiping over the leaking tip. “Not yet,” I growl, feeling her clench around me. “You come when I say.”

The sob she lets out is fucking beautiful. I slow my hips, dragging the torture out, letting her feel every inch as I pull almost all the way out before slamming back in. Her legs are shaking now, thighs slick with lube and sweat. I lean over her, biting the shell of her ear. “Remember last week? When you came without permission?” Her breath hitches—she remembers. The cold shower, the corner time, my belt gathering dust on the dresser where she could see it. “You wanna disappoint me again?”

“N-no, sir,” she gasps, pushing back against me desperately. Good girl. I reward her with a deep, grinding thrust that makes her scream. Her cock twitches in my hand, pre-cum dripping onto the counter. I can feel her trying to hold back, those little muscles fluttering around me, but it’s too much. I speed up, pounding into her, my balls slapping against her ass. “Now,” I snarl, and she shatters, her whole body seizing as she cries out. The feel of her pulsing around me tips me over the edge, and I bury myself to the hilt, filling her up as she whimpers through the aftershocks.

Her body goes limp beneath me, trembling like a plucked string as I pull out slowly, watching my cum drip down her thighs. Dani’s breath comes in ragged little hitches, her cheek pressed against the cold marble. I trail a finger through the mess, smearing it over her asshole just to hear her whine. “Daddy…” she slurs, half-lidded eyes glazed over. I smirk, wiping my hand on her skirt—my skirt, really, bought for this exact purpose.

The kitchen smells like sex and her shampoo, something sugary and fake. I lift her by the waist, turning her to face me. Her legs wobble, but she clings to my shoulders, her tiny cock still hard against my stomach. “You’re insatiable,” I murmur, thumbing away a tear from the corner of her eye. She blinks up at me, lips swollen from biting them, and I can’t resist kissing her—deep and filthy, tasting the salt of her sweat. She moans into my mouth, fingers tangling in my hair.

I walk her backward until her knees hit the couch, letting her collapse onto it with a gasp. Her skirt rides up around her hips, the white cotton panties ruined, shoved to one side. I kneel between her legs, dragging my tongue up the inside of her thigh, savoring the way she jerks. “Please,” she whispers, hips arching. I chuckle, blowing cold air over her wetness just to watch her squirm. “Please what?”

Her face flushes crimson. She knows the rules. “Please… suck me, Daddy.” The words tremble out of her, sweet as sin. I oblige, swallowing her down in one smooth motion, relishing the choked-off cry she makes. Her hands fist in my hair, tugging like she can’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer. I hum around her, flattening my tongue against the sensitive underside, and her thighs clamp around my ears. “Fuck—fuck—”

She’s trembling like a leaf in a storm when I finally pull off, leaving her little cock glistening under the living room lights. The sight of her—sprawled across the couch, skirt rucked up around her waist, panties torn and useless—sends another jolt of heat straight to my dick. I palm myself through my slacks just to relieve the pressure, watching her eyes lock onto the movement. “Daddy,” she whines, voice wrecked, her hips lifting off the couch in silent demand.

I ignore her. Instead, I reach for the coffee table drawer—the one she’s not supposed to know about—and pull out the pink silicone plug I bought last week. Dani’s breath catches when she sees it, her thighs squeezing together instinctively. “No,” I correct, tapping her knee until she spreads for me again. “You don’t get to hide.” Her blush spreads down her chest, but she obeys, legs falling open like a good girl.

The plug is cold against my fingers, still slick with the lube I’d stored it in. I drag it slowly up her inner thigh, just to watch her squirm. “Remember what happens if you come without permission?” I murmur, circling the tip around her hole—already loose and wet from my cock. She nods frantically, biting her lip hard enough to leave marks. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

I push it in with one smooth thrust, savoring the way her back arches off the couch, her mouth dropping open in a silent scream. Her cock jerks, leaking onto her stomach, but I wrap my hand around the base before she can spill. “Uh-uh,” I chide, squeezing just enough to make her whimper. “You don’t get to come yet.”

Her whole body tenses around the plug, thighs trembling as she fights the urge to buck against it. I twist it slowly, watching her stomach muscles jump, the delicate flush spreading down her chest. "Daddy—please—" she gasps, fingers clawing at the couch cushions. The way she says it—like a prayer, like a curse—makes my cock twitch. I lean down, biting the inside of her thigh just hard enough to leave a mark. "What do you need, baby?" I murmur against her skin, knowing full well she won’t say it. Not yet.

She whines, high and desperate, her hips jerking uselessly. The plug glistens between her legs, the pink silicone stark against her flushed skin. I give it another twist, just to watch her toes curl. "Use your words," I remind her, dragging my thumb over the swollen head of her cock. She chokes on a sob, her legs shaking. "I—I need—" Her voice cracks, and I can see the exact moment she gives in, her whole body going slack. "Fuck me, Daddy. Please."

The words barely leave her lips before I’m flipping her onto her stomach, yanking her hips up until her ass is in the air. The plug pops out with a wet sound, and I replace it with my tongue immediately, licking into her with a groan. She tastes like me, like sweat, like home. Dani writhes, her little cock dripping onto the couch, but I pin her down with a hand between her shoulder blades. "Stay," I growl, and she goes still—perfectly still—except for the tremors running through her.

I don’t bother prepping her again. Just line up and push in with one brutal thrust, relishing the way her back bows, the way her scream cracks halfway through. She’s so fucking tight, even after the plug, her body clamping down like it’s trying to keep me inside. "Christ," I hiss, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. "You feel made for me." Her answering moan is muffled by the couch cushions, but I feel it vibrate through me as I start to move.

Her body bucks beneath me, a desperate, ragged rhythm as I pound into her, the couch springs creaking under our weight. I can smell her—that mix of strawberry shampoo and sweat, the sharp tang of sex clinging to her skin. One hand fists in her hair, yanking her head back so I can watch her face in the mirrored TV screen across the room. Her lips are parted, spit-slick and swollen, eyes glazed over like she’s already gone. “Look at yourself,” I grit out, thrusting harder just to see her pupils blow wider. “Look at what you are.”

Dani whimpers, her reflection trembling as she obeys—watching her own slack mouth, the way her tiny cock jerks against the couch with every snap of my hips. She’s close, I can tell by the way her thighs shake, the way her hole clenches around me in little flutters. But I’m not done with her yet. I slow to a grind, dragging the head of my cock against that spot inside her that makes her sob. “Daddy—fuck—” she chokes out, fingers scrambling at the cushions.

I smirk, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, relishing the way her whole body jolts. “You wanna come?” I murmur, reaching around to wrap my fingers around her leaking cock. She nods frantically, her breath coming in ragged little hitches. “Say it.”

“P-please let me come,” she gasps, her voice breaking on the last word. I tighten my grip, thumb swiping over the tip just to watch her back arch. “Not yet.” Her answering cry is half-scream, half-sob, her hips jerking uselessly against my hand. I pick up the pace again, fucking her hard enough to shake the couch, my balls slapping against her ass. The sound is filthy—wet skin, her muffled moans, the creak of the furniture—and it goes straight to my dick.

Her reflection in the TV screen is a mess—hair tangled from my grip, lips red from biting them, eyes glassy with tears she’s too proud to let fall. I lean over her back, pressing my chest to her spine, and growl against her ear, "Count." She whimpers, but obeys, voice shaking as she starts, "O-one..." I snap my hips hard on 'one,' making her gasp. "T-two—" Another brutal thrust. By 'three,' her legs are shaking too badly to hold herself up anymore, and she collapses face-first into the couch cushions, her ass still raised for me.

The plug had done its job—she’s loose enough to take me deep, but still tight enough to make every stroke drag against her walls in that perfect, torturous way. I can feel her pulse around me, that telltale flutter that means she’s right on the edge. I slow down just to hear her sob, grinding my hips in slow circles to press against her sweet spot. "Daddy, please," she begs into the fabric, voice muffled but raw. "I’ll be good, I’ll—fuck—" Her sentence cuts off as I pull out entirely, leaving her clenching around nothing.

Her head snaps up, eyes wide and confused, lips parted around a silent protest. I smirk, dragging her up by the hair until her back presses against my chest. "Hands on your tits," I order, and she obeys instantly, small fingers pinching her own nipples through the ruined blouse. I wrap one arm around her waist to hold her steady, the other hand sliding down to circle her cock with two fingers. "Now ask," I murmur against her temple, tightening my grip just enough to make her jerk.

She’s shaking so badly I have to hold her up, but her voice is clear when she chokes out, "Please let me come, Daddy. Wanna come on your cock like a good girl." The words send a bolt of heat straight to my dick. I push back into her with one smooth stroke, my fingers working her cock in tight, quick twists. "Now," I snarl, and she screams, her whole body seizing as she spills over my hand, her ass clenching around me like a vice. The feel of her pulsing milks my orgasm out of me, and I bury myself to the hilt, filling her up as she whimpers through the aftershocks.

Her body goes limp in my arms, a boneless heap of trembling limbs and flushed skin as I lift her off the couch. Dani whines softly when I pull out, my cum dripping down her thighs, but she’s too spent to protest—just nuzzles her face into my neck like a kitten as I carry her down the hallway. The schoolgirl outfit is a lost cause, blouse untucked, skirt twisted around her waist, so I peel it off her as we go, letting the scraps of fabric fall to the floor.

The red nightgown is waiting on the bed, sheer enough to see the shadow of her cock through the fabric, the lace trim skimming the tops of her thighs. She blinks up at me with glassy eyes as I slide it over her head, her arms too weak to lift on their own. “Daddy’s color,” I murmur, smoothing the silk over her hips, watching the way it clings to the sticky mess between her legs. She shivers, her tiny cock twitching under the fabric, still sensitive.

I prop her against the pillows, her legs falling open instinctively, the nightgown riding up to expose the pink, swollen proof of how well I’d used her. Her breath hitches when I trail a finger up her inner thigh, but she doesn’t squirm—just watches me with heavy-lidded devotion, lips parted around unspoken pleas. The bedside drawer yields the next toy: a slender vibrator, curved just right to press against her prostate when I fuck her with it. Dani’s eyes go wide when she sees it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“Think you can take one more round, princess?” I murmur, dragging the vibrator up her inner thigh, watching the goosebumps rise in its wake. Dani’s throat bobs as she swallows hard, her fingers twisting in the sheets. The nightgown clings to her sweaty skin, the lace trim framing her half-hard cock like some perverse gift wrapping. She nods frantically, hips lifting off the mattress in silent supplication.

I click the vibrator on—the lowest setting—and press it against her parted lips. Her tongue darts out instinctively, lapping at the silicone like it’s candy, her eyes fluttering shut as the faint buzz teases her taste buds. “Open,” I command, and she obeys without hesitation, letting me slide the toy past her teeth. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks, the vibration making her moan around it, the sound muffled and wet.

Leaning over her, I trace the hem of her nightgown with my teeth, nipping at the lace until she squirms. The fabric rides higher, exposing the bite marks on her thighs—darkening now, just the way I like them. Her legs fall open wider, her cock twitching against her stomach, already leaking again. Insatiable fucking thing.

I replace the vibrator with my fingers, thrusting them deep into her mouth as I drag the buzzing toy down her body. Her hips jerk when I circle her nipple with it, the lace dampening under the vibrations. “Daddy—” she gasps around my fingers, her back arching off the bed. I smirk, pressing harder, watching her tiny tits bounce with each ragged breath.

The toy trails lower, skating over her trembling abdomen, pausing just above her cock. Her thighs tense, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. I tilt my head, studying the way her pulse jumps in her throat. “You want it?” I purr, dragging the vibrator along her shaft—just barely touching, just enough to make her whimper. Her nod is frantic, her hips bucking uselessly.

I flip the setting higher—the buzz loud enough to hear now—and press it against the base of her cock. Her whole body convulses, a broken scream tearing from her throat as her back bows off the mattress. “Fuck—fuck—” she sobs, her hands scrabbling at the sheets. I hold it there, watching her unravel, her legs shaking too hard to close.

The nightgown clings to her sweaty skin, the red fabric turning translucent where her pre-cum soaks through. I drag the toy lower, circling her hole—still loose and dripping from earlier. Her breath hitches, her hips lifting in silent supplication. “Please,” she whimpers, her voice wrecked. “Daddy, please.”

I push it in with one smooth thrust, her body opening easily around the intrusion. Her scream is muffled by my palm as I cover her mouth, her nails digging into my wrist. “Shh,” I murmur, twisting the toy deeper, finding that sweet spot inside her. Her eyes roll back, her cock jerking against her stomach as she convulses around the vibrator.

Her thighs clamp around my arm, her body bowing as the orgasm rips through her. I hold her down, fucking her with the toy through the aftershocks, watching her face twist with overstimulation. Tears streak down her cheeks, her mouth slack around silent pleas.