Dreams can be soothing: a waterfall glen from your past that clarifies a problem.

Dreams can be frightening: being chased, not knowing where you are or worse, who you are!

And for many, Dreams can be sexy as fuck: bent over a park bench while your boyfriend’s dad rails you over and- !

Emma woke with a classic Hollywood nightmare gasp. Her heart was racing, her breathing was marathon runner worthy. She was sweaty and… oh god…Her pussy was a swamp.

Gaining awareness of her boyfriend, she had no idea when he got in from the hospital yet she was thankful that he slept soundly. She sighed at her aroused state that he had not caused. Why did she give in so recklessly?

As she had her morning pee, recalling the moments with Matt, she caressed her sore yet satisfied slit before wiping. Mmm, despite a shower last night she could still smell his spend.

She washed up and fixed her hair in a messy teacher bun. Back in the bedroom she quietly slid on her bra from yesterday. The light blue fabric did have a sweaty odor to it. She also noticed some stains from Matt’s cum that must’ve gotten on it after he untied her post-fuck.

She adjusted her nipples, and just as it had when he first pinched them, she felt a tingle running down her body and into her vaginal walls.

This man had changed her, whether for the better remained to be seen. As of now, all she could think about was this first task he wanted her to perform. And that was definitely for the better.

Next, she slipped on the darkly stained thong that reeked of sex. Donning dirty underwear brought back a similar experience from her university days doing a walk of shame back from a one-night stand. This felt different. She was actually pleased to put on something that contained an essence of him; and it was per his instructions.

With all of her feelings this morning; guilt, delight, soreness, fear; the desires to please him and serve him overrode them all.

As she grabbed her bag and headed out the door, she checked her phone for probably the tenth time since awakening. Ugh, this is exactly what he wanted: her need to be controlled was aching for directions…her disappointment was palpable.

In her classroom preparing for the day, she hoped a message telling her to run out the door, and climb into the back of his SUV so she could suck his-

“Hello?! Earth to Em! What is with you? I knocked twice!”

Her mentor and best work friend, Julee, leaned on the door frame with her arms folded. The dyed blonde older woman was fabulous as always in a skirt and blouse ensemble that showed off her generous curves.

“Sorry, just thinking about last night.” Emma’s eyes widened as she realized she had possibly given something away.

“Oh really?” Julee intimated as she walked towards the desk, her signature heels clicking on the floor. “What was Daddy like? Did you guys get along alright?”

“Um, yes. The meal was great, and he was very charming. Unfortunately, Eric had to go to a trauma, and I had to…entertain his dad by myself.” She rolled her eyes to make it look like it was a chore, but her friend was not buying it.

“Oooo, entertain him? What- did you guys fuck on the couch or something?”

Emma’s heart was racing. How the fuck did she know that? “You’re terrible. Not everyone has sex with each person they meet like you do,” she teased back. “I’ll talk to you at lunch. I have work to do and you are making me look unprofessional.”

Julee laughed and clicked out the door, “OK. But I know there’s more to the story…your nipples are pokey!”

Fuck…

The first two periods of the day went smoothly. Her algebra classes were always her favorite as they were the younger students. After 10:20, it was her planning period, and she needed to pee. She picked up her phone just as a message popped up. Her breath caught and her ears rang- it was from Matt.

Slut, go to the bathroom and remove your underwear - you will not need them for the rest of the day. masturbate imagining I am using your throat again.

You may cum- do not clean yourself up. I want you to smell it all day. I own that pussy now and I want it dirty.

She trembled as she responded: Yes, sir.

Report when completed.

He “owned” her pussy? That would take some getting used to. She really did love this man’s son. Her fear of hurting, um...Eric had reduced some, but was still present.

Her breathing sped as she locked the stall door. The filthy thong tucked away in her sweater pocket, she spread her legs, peed and slid a finger down her middle. The noise of a flush two doors down yanked her back to reality. She had to be cautious in the future, make sure she was alone before proceeding.

(The thought of their being “future school masturbation”, actually made her gush to the point where drops of womanly hunger fell into the water below!)

She spread her legs, her knees touching the sides of the stall. She sighed at the intoxication of her own aroma. One finger slid down the center of her and she shivered at the sensitivity of her open labia. Two other fingers squeezed the middle one tightly. She plunged into her vagina and nearly doubled over with the surge through her body. This would not take long. Her frigging got her off in less than ninety seconds.

An intake of breath and then, "Fuuu..." half whispered.

She orgasmed hard holding the industrial toilet paper dispenser to keep from falling off. As it ran through her body, she slumped backwards, hitting the obnoxious pipes, but she didn’t care. Her breathing took a bit to get back to normal.

After a few minutes, the tingle and excitement were doused by the realization of where she was. Probably a good thing.

Her day went on relatively normally. The relief of finally being able to orgasm made her feel better than she expected. Strangely enough, she had not heard from Matt.

As her last class was filling in, her phone lit up.

Where is my report? I do not like to repeat myself, slut.

Oh no...

My apologies. I thought you said this wouldn’t interfere with my job

As soon as she sent that she knew it was a mistake. Before she could click on delete, he had responded.

Passing period from 1:57 to 2:02. Ample time.

Oh my God, he knew her class schedule. She texted at a rapid pace.

apologies, Sur.

I was in the staff br- spread as far as I could. used my midle finger b/c so ar-

“Miss Garner? Are you OK?”

“Yes, thank you it’s a family…thing- one moment.” This was dangerous, texting in front of her entering students, but she was a fast tapper.

shook pretty hard - had to hold onto the TP thing for fear of falling over.

His response took a very long time, finally manifesting as a thumbs up as the bell rang.

‘That’s it?’ she thought. She was hoping he would tell her she had been a good girl or something. Or even that she was a naughty slut, like in the erotica she loved to read. She found herself craving anything he had to say.

‘Oh wow,’ she thought, ‘I really am…his!’

Another thought of Eric flashed in her head and the guilt was less. She was changing.

***

A storm of emotions, Emma left the building at dismissal; forgetting to say goodbye to Julee who texted five question marks. She lied and said she wasn’t feeling well and needed to get home. Well, half a lie.

She took a long bath, to recover some type of reality while trying to calm all of her nerves. She was vacillating between carnal hunger, sadness, and a horrible sense of sexual duty to her boyfriend’s father to whom she had willingly submitted.

‘Why don’t I feel worse about this?’ She thought. ‘It’s almost like I’m okay if Eric is hurt and Matt now has me under his control.’ It was frighteningly arousing.

She dried off and slipped on her nightgown as her phone on the sink lit up with a message.

Do not feel guilty. son doesn’t know how to hold down a woman how to please them.

‘He’s a mind reader!’ she thought. But Eric was a good lover. ‘Well…a nice lover. Fuck!’ Matt was correct again.

I’ll tell you more later- We will be doing a lot of things that will surprise you, Emma. you will love them all- trust me. I’ll text my address, 6 o’clock tomorrow night. No panties, wear a skirt and blouse. Do you understand?

This was the moment of truth. Whatever she responded would determine the next part of her life. An hour ago, a large part of her felt horrible for what she was doing to her boyfriend, now that was down to possibly 25% and shrinking. She texted back.

Yes, sir, I will be there.

She hit send and then thought for a moment and added, thank you, sir. I promise to be your good girl.

She had no idea where that came from, perhaps the videos and stories she had read.

It made her smile to finally “say” it out loud.

He did not respond, and her mix of emotions swirled even more.

***

The next school day was surprisingly more lively and easier to get through. But Julee, ever aware, knew something was up. At lunch, she caught Emma in the hallway, “Okay, Garner, what the fuck is going on with you?”

Emma hesitated; she had prepared for this. She looked left and right to make sure no one was listening. “I cheated on Eric…”

Julee was stunned. “Damn girl I thought he was the one. Is he…fuck, okay?”

Emma thought for a moment and then answered honestly, “He doesn’t know yet. He’s working tonight, so, I’m staying with my new….” she had to take a moment to think of the right thing to call Matt. The reality was unspeakable. She couldn’t tell her best friend that he was her new master, or dominant. She also could not tell her that she was Eric’s father. She went with the more innocuous, “…lover."

The naughtiness, almost evil deception sparked her libido even more. Was she getting off on Eric being oblivious?

Julee let out a hissing breath, "Any details?"

"Not yet please. I will but I don't know what this is yet. It's why I want tonight, to...sort things out."

***

The house was well appointed, three stories with a beautiful wraparound porch and a wide driveway. She parked, checked her make up in the mirror, and ran her fingers through her hair as it cascaded over her shoulders and her boobs. Her finger was poised on the bell when the door swung open. Matt stood in a buttoned shirt, the top three open, and loose-fitting lounge pants. No shoes, no socks. She found his bare feet quite sexy.

“Right on time, slut. You have pleased me. Step in here.” She followed instruction without even responding. The foyer was beautiful, the home modern but with lovely old-fashioned touches.

She didn’t really have time to admire the decorating. From behind, his hands gripped her shoulders, and she started with a gasp. Without saying a word, he grasped the top of her blouse by the collar and ripped it off of her body, and she cried out. It actually hurt to have the buttons pop off against her chest. But she did not turn around. She stood panting, looking forward.

“Excellent, you passed the first test. It’s how I like to introduce my sluts to the concept that they are mine to do whatever I want.” By now he had stepped in front of her, his burning green eyes, looking her up and down. He took in a deep, hissing breath and, lewdly rubbed a growing bulge in his loose trousers. She had to close her eyes to help stifle a moan she wanted to release. Of course, her vagina was literally twitching.

“Yes, you are perfect.”

He took her by the hand and led her over to the foyer closet. “Put your purse, skirt, and shoes in here. Leave your bra on. I want to have fun with it later. The next door is a powder room if you need it to freshen up before you come in. However, you know, I do love a fragrant desperate cunt.” He nuzzled her neck and gave it a huge sniff. Emma trembled, nearly beside herself with need. “I’ll be in the living room here to the left. When you enter the room, I want you to drop to your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Emma took a surprise breath, “Crawl, yes Sir." She had never felt more alive. Her heart was racing, of course, but now there was a satisfaction and a comfort in the nerves she was feeling.

As she removed her skirt and shoes, she thought of Eric at the hospital doing his shift. She smiled, knowing he had no idea where she was, and what she was doing. The evil of it all only fueled her desire. She barely took note of collars and leashes belonging to what she assumed were Matt’s other “pets” I guess you could call them. She had one moment of jealousy then dismissed it. She planned to be his best.

After a quick pee and face check, the redhead shakingly walked towards the archway into the living room. It was huge with many comfortable places to sit and a sectional with large areas on either end where more than one person could have sex. He reposed in the center, his arms on the back of the couch, his legs open.

“Come to me.”

Without hesitation, Emma dropped to her hands and knees, and like she hadn’t done since she was a child, crawled across the carpet, stopping in front of him. From everything she had viewed and studied she knew to sit back on her heels, her hands behind her back, her head bowed. Matt bent over and ran a finger across her cleavage, sending bumps and shivers of pure lust across her white skin. She could not help but sigh.

“Excellent slut.” His voice was calm, warm but held the smallest amount of depravity. “A few rules. While you are here, you will only speak when I speak to you. You will address me as Sir unless I tell you otherwise. As soon as you enter the house, remove every piece of clothing except the heels that I expect you to wear from now on.”

Damn! How did she miss that detail?

“I am impressed that you know the submissive position of waiting. You will assume it immediately in the foyer after stripping. If I do not see you in this position when I approach you will be punished. Punishment will come in different forms mild to somewhat hard pain. You will grow to love it, even crave it. But the first few times, just like last night’s fantastic throat fuck, will surprise you. Lean into that surprise, enjoy the discomfort. Trust me, the orgasms you will eventually be allowed to have will be glorious.”

Eric was down to 15%. She still didn’t want this completely. Part of her still clinged to the idea that she could say “no.” It was a frivolous thought.

He paused and lifted her chin, his face inches from her. At some point, he had removed his shirt. and she had not noticed. Her mind was replaying all the rules in her head, and she was loving every one of them. His voice was softer, but direct drilling into her soul.

“You’re mine now Emma, you must accept this. I am benevolent, compassionate, and caring. It may not seem that way when we are in our relationship, or even when I give you over to others to be used. “

This part made her eyes go wide, but she dared not question

“If you grow to hate me and do not want to give yourself up to my commands then I have failed as your dominant. We will have periodic check-ins to make sure all is well. You will come up with a safe word that you may use once per session should you need to. Make it uncommon and something you can easily remember.”

She blurted out, “Spatula."

He laughed, and she blushed. “I have been thinking about this for a long time Sir, and I knew I would need one so… I hope that’s OK”

“Of course, I told you to make your own. Most people just use red or black. But spatula suits you. It’s different, exciting and a useful tool. Just like you will be.” He stood. “Remove my pants. Prepare me. You need to be used. You want to be used, don’t you?”

She hesitated. It was just a brief moment, but he noticed it. This is it, no turning back; if she did this, she agreed to be his to follow his rules. She realized last night was who she was, who she wanted to be all her life. Nothing would hold her back from it. Except maybe...

“Sir, may I ask a question?” He nodded. “What if I cannot take it? What if I…fail you?”

Matt‘s eyebrows raised, his erection right at her face. "You will not fail me. I know you will not. And if it ever gets too much, spatula." He smiled, and she blushed in embarrassment, her eyes looking down. They stayed down when she noticed that his hands had moved to the tie at the waistband of his pants. She looked up her eyes filled with desire, her mouth dry, her hands sweaty.

"Tonight, we will explore each other’s bodies. Find out what we like. This will help me design a perfect program for your training. I will put demands on you, otherwise what’s the point? But anytime something feels uncomfortable remember…

She started to say spatula, but he cut her off, “...it is supposed to.“

He grabbed a handful of her hair and shoved her face into his crotch. She grabbed his pants and dragged them down, his massive erection hitting her chin. He stepped out of them as she took his amazing thick cock in both hands and plunged her mouth onto the head. She had been dreaming for two days and needed it badly. She pulled out all of her best skills. Her hands corkscrewed around his shaft as her mouth drew as much saliva as it could to soak him. She ran her tongue up and down the sides, her hands on his balls. She barely registered the scalp pain brought on by his flexing grip.

She instinctively reached back to grab his fantastic fit ass. That was a mistake, and he slapped it away. She now knew that that was not acceptable. She concentrated on opening her throat as much as she could and took him in several times. Gags and chokes spluttered saliva and drool out of her mouth onto his shaft, the floor, and her bra-encased heaving tits. She was in heaven.

She moaned deeply as he took tighter hold of her head and began to force more of his cock down her throat. The thrust and depth increased in pressure with each thrust of his hips. She welcomed it and dropped her hands to her thighs, letting him use her head as a sex toy. He threw his head back and groaned loudly. “Yes, Emma excellent job! You are perfect. Take my cock you slut, you mouth whore! “

This was the first time he had used the 'W' word and rather than being disgusted it fueled her primal desire to please him. Her tongue and lips did the best they could with his powerful thrusting. She wanted him to use her, to fill her. She wanted to empty a huge load of his manly father cum from his balls.

She was in a zone of enthusiastic euphoria; she had turned a corner. Matt smiled to himself and pulled out, a shining line of spit connecting the tip of his cock to her wide-open mouth. She looked up, panting and gasping for air with pleading eyes. They said, 'Did I do something wrong?' as well as 'please I need more.' He took one hand and reached behind her and unhooked her bra. The other gripped her red hair and pulled her head up.

She winced and whimpered slightly.

"Open your mouth."

She complied and soon a string of his own saliva dripped out of his mouth and into hers. Rather than be shocked or disgusted, she moaned and swirled it with her tongue as if it was the greatest gift she had ever received.

He then slapped her cheek, lightly but with enough that she felt it. She took a moment to absorb the mildly violent act but then smiled up at him. "Thank you, Sir."

"Fuck, yes..." he hissed then motioned for her to stand. "Wait here. Do not touch yourself."

She stood still as possible, her body aquiver and her nipples and clitoris forming an electrical circuit of carnal need.

He returned with something that she could not see then sat on the couch legs spread. Something flat and rubber rapidly slapped her thighs, and she opened her legs wide in response. The same thing came up from below and smacked her swollen vulva and she yelped.

"Sir, what did I -?!"

Another smack hit even harder, and she shook with the pain that pinballed through her eventually landing back on her aching labia. She opened wider and sighed. He chuckled and she received two more smacks from - Oh my god. She looked down and smiled through the haze of sexual confusion. It was a spatula. She felt giddy as if he was a boyfriend who brought her favorite flowers.

He tossed it aside. "You are ready. Mount me."

She reached below and found his impressive pole and guided it to her impatient hole. With and easy glide of filthy fluids she sunk down on him with one movement. He groaned in satisfaction, and she shook, knowing that the orgasm on her doorstep needed to take a lap.

His strong grip encased her thighs from below and he lifted her. She immediately aided in the process by lifting with her feet planted. In three strokes they were in perfect sync, a fuck for the ages.

In the moment, Emma realized she had never had sex, real full-body sex. The events and emotions of the last day all coalesced into the fullness of her pussy. Nothing mattered more than this wondrous phallus driving up into her.

"Oh yes! So fucking tight! Such a good slut, so nasty!"

Emma groaned at the praise, her body bouncing faster. Her tits were hurting with the motion. and she grabbed them for stabilization. Matt's large hands pulled hers away and he engulfed both breasts with a tight grip of pure control. New pains that confused her brain were welcomed by her need for release. He was using them for handles.

Her mouth tight, she was moaning in pulses designed to hold off her orgasm. He sensed her plight and allowed her some relief.

"You may speak, ungh, while we fuck! But only, oh fuck yes, with permission."

"Thaaank you, Sir! Oh, my gahhhddd!!"

He was very close and knew this was the first of many tonight. By granting her orgasm this early, she would edge better later. His dominant deviousness, however, would make it interesting.

"Eric is a shit lover. Ungh! You are willfully, ungh, betraying him because you know it is true!"

Her body heat went off like a match on gasoline! "OH GOD!"

"You are a master's slut now! A three-holed whore who knows this is wrong and wants it anyway!"

"YESSS! Please Sirrr!"

His thrusting was a blur and her moans were bouncing. "Uh uh uh uh uh uh..."

It was time. He released her left breast and slid down to pinch her clitoris, hard. "CUM, Slut! CUM!"

He stiffened up and his cock swelled as her breath held. She was lost in a space she had never visited, every nerve in her body firing and then sending shockwaves to the core of her cunt where they exploded into a starburst. Her breath returned in a guttural gasp as his pussy pounder geysered a massive load up into her womb.

It was a top ten ejaculation, no question! This pussy was perfection, possibly his best since Eric's mother.

"Fuuuuck yes! Oh Emmaaa!"

If he hadn't been holding her right breast, she would have collapsed. Her legs stiffened and her back arched, her shoulders hitting his chest. Her face to the ceiling, she screamed out in animal-like blissful agony. It was overwhelming in its magnitude.

Like any earth-shaking event, it repeated several times before she collapsed onto him. Her head back on his right shoulder, eyes closed, breath panting.

Their sweat and fluids mingled as he kissed her neck and shoulder. The hand that had her breast in a death grip now caressed her thigh and abdomen. His other barely grazed her clit and she spasmed again, then settled once more in the ongoing orgasmic fog she never wanted to leave.

"You have pleased me," he whispered. Then he turned her head, and they melted into an open moth lip lock that held promise as well as gratitude.

"Thank you...Matt, I..." She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and turned to snuggle, his slick snake slipping out of her drenched vagina.

He slowly lifted her and extricated himself from below. She flopped sideways onto the couch, her body a spent and messy sight of debauched and used femininity. She felt his hands gripping her calves and he rotated her until she was on her stomach. He must be allowing her to rest.

WHAP!

The smack upon her left ass cheek was a shock like she had never known. He was above her, spatula in hand administering several paddles to her confused ass.

"My name is Sir!"

Tears came to drive away pleasure with pitchforks and torches.

"Never forget!"

After six more blows landed, she whimpered, "yes sir...sorry sir..."

The spatula landed next to her face, a sign of his dominance and her failure.

Surprisingly (or not, really) all she wanted was to make it up to him,

He headed into the kitchen and returned with water bottles. "Drink. We have a long night ahead. You have much to learn."

***

She staggered into the apartment at three a.m. and stopped cold at the sight of Eric on the couch. She had forgotten that he would be home because his shift had changed.

He was surprisingly still, looking at his phone. "Hello, Emma..."

The next pause was long, filled with dread and questions. She would remember this moment for the rest of her life.

“He did it again.” Eric’s voice was wry and sadly settled, “This time to somebody I really really cared about.”

That struck Emma right to her heart. He was broken, sad, and strangely resolved. Her lack of underwear and soaking wet sub-basement became glaring in this harsh moment

Emma‘s heart was beating faster than when Matt had taken her ass during their fourth fuck of the night. “Y-you’re talking about your father…?”

Eric chuckled, “Um, obviously. This is what he does Emma. I find a woman that I like, I think it’s serious and he steps in and takes them from me. At eighteen, Angela was my first love and his first sub my age.” He cleared his throat and stood. “My father is a dominant, and a predator. And he fucked you repeatedly tonight. Don’t bother denying it, he already told me.”

Emma‘s hand was shaking as Eric handed her his phone. There on the screen were text messages of confirmation.

Well done son. You know how I like redheads. She is quite tight and took to me immediately. Don’t feel too bad, she did protest about hurting you but only once. You may continue to see her if you’d like, but you may no longer fuck her. Her body is mine.

Emma slumped onto the couch, dumbfounded. The shaking had stopped, yet so had her breathing. 'He told Eric?'

She hid her face with her hands. “Oh Eric… I don’t know what to say… I didn’t know-"

This laugh was heartier. “You didn’t know you shouldn’t fuck my father? Come on Emma! you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Don’t feel too bad, at least he waited two months to take you over. You're wearing his shirt and sweatpants."

Indeed, she was, her blouse ruined and her skirt uncomfortable on her aching body. She felt her body calming, her resolve solidifying. She stood with him her face unaffected. Nothing mattered anymore, just Sir.

He was intimidated and stepped back. "Wow, you have already committed. There was part of me that hoped you wouldn’t fall like the other six have but there’s just no denying his power.” He looked out the window.

Emma's exhausted pussy pulsed as if to remind her who it belonged to. Matt could have warned her, then again, this was somewhat intriguing to experience.

As if he was reading her mind, Eric continued, “You are aroused right now because you know he has taken you from me and that it hurts me. Don’t feel bad, that’s the excitement of being with a cuckold. Although it’s usually a woman enjoying her husband’s suffering, I never seem to get to the wedding part.”

She looked at him with a touch of disappointment. “I think that is a good thing. You were never going to satisfy me." The last surprised her but it felt good to say.

He slumped, his defeat total. Without turning around, he said, “Stay as long as you want. I promise not to touch you. If I do, he will know. He always knows. I wish I could’ve been stronger for you.” And with that he grabbed his keys and left the apartment.

As soon as the door closed, she collapsed on the couch and quickly forgot about him.

Tomorrow was Saturday, and Matt was going to introduce her to...ropes and the paddling...ben...

Sleep took her and she slumbered undisturbed.

Dreams don't always haunt the guilty.

***

Thanks for reading, Emma will return!

If you liked it, please hit the heart or the star. Please leave a comment, I try to respnd to all of them.