No, Sweetie, Its Not Comphet To Have A Crush On A Fictional Male Character. Comphet Is When I Force You

“No, sweetie, it’s not comphet to have a crush on a fictional male character. Comphet is when I force you to suck this man’s cock because I get off on it. Now be a good girl for Mommy”

You told us before about the threesomes you had with Miss; did you have any others before you the three of you talked about your kinks together?

And what did you do the very first time you and your Daddy had sex directly?

There were a few more threesomes with Miss and Daddy, they were a lil more involved and degrading to me. Having me eat Daddy's cum out of her, Daddy slapping me and groping me out in the open during it, Daddy calling me degrading pet names (mostly mutt, but also just cunt, cuck, bitch, etc).

When we had 1 on 1 sex it was while Miss was out at work, and also was a surprise to me. It was after we talked out our boundaries and such. Gosh I'm getting soaked just remembering. Daddy came into the office and pulled off my shirt, I don't wear bras at home most of the time, and he told me if wanted it back to come to his bedroom. This was kinda obviously him teasing me into sex, and It was super exhilerating and such since 2 of my gfs were still at home at that moment, and this being the first time.

I went to his room and after closing the door it became a sort of joke of "Do X and you'll get your shirt back" strip, get on my knees, say im a hungry cock whore. Daddy had me lube up his dick with kisses and licking before actually getting lube and fucking me in doggystyle. After all that he handed me back my shirt, called me a good dog, and pushed me out of his room. It was a rush going back and getting dressed in a different outfit, my gfs didn't see me, but I was so excited, literally having his cum in me, sent out naked Holding just a shirt.

He loves making me feel like a whore.

coerced sex becomes less coerced…

It’s been months now since we began our arrangement, and now my discomfort no longer stems from regularly sleeping with a man, but that I enjoy it.

I’ve stopped dating altogether. I tell myself I’m just not interested, but I know deep down it’s because I thought about him with the last girl I slept with. The shame and confusion after that is just too much to risk again…

Every month, after hours on end being used like a whore with his cum still warm deep inside me, I leave his apartment feeling right. The last few times I was even horrified to find myself reluctant to go. So I don’t even stop to think about it before I’m nodding vigorously when he says I should stay until Monday instead, his cock still twitching inside me.

Which is how I find myself on my knees, womb strangely warm and heavy from days of repeated breedings, grinding against his leg and lovingly worshiping his cock while he watches the Sunday game. He’s given me "studying material" since my first attempt at a blowjob, and the fact that I’ve apparently gotten better gives me a weird, warm pride that I prefer not to think about.

He doesn’t acknowledge me while the game is on, just sips his beer and occasionally pets my head, and I’ve never felt more like a pet. Being ignored only makes me work harder to get his attention. I think he’s doing it on purpose, and I hate how much that makes me drip.

It feels like I’ve been nuzzling and licking and suckling his cock for hours - I don’t even know how long a football game normally lasts - when he finally looks down at me. He’s turned the TV off, and I was too busy to notice. The only sounds in the room are the wet noises of my mouth on his crotch.

I never stop my work, reveling in his full attention as he finally smirks down at me. His rough fingers comb my hair back from my face, and I lean into it with a sigh without a thought. It all feels so natural now.

"You’ve been such a good girl," he says in that sickeningly sweet tone that always makes me blush and squirm in the worst way. "So patient, I can feel how wet you are," he nudges the shin I’m still humping against me, inducing a squeak. "I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?"

A few days ago, I might have been embarrassed by how enthusiastically I nod. His broadening sneer only makes my heart race harder. He guides me up to straddle his lap, pulling me close until my dripping pussy is pressed intimately against his cock, still wet with my spit. He chuckles when I instinctively thrust against him with a whimper.

He urges me higher with strong hands on my hips, guides his head to press lightly against my entrance, and then… settles back in his chair and watches me expectantly. I’m too desperate to wait any longer.

I let myself sink down onto his hot, throbbing dick with a humiliating groan. He’d fucked me only this morning, and yet it feels like forever since he’s stretched me. I fall forward until my breasts press to his broad chest, no longer strange, and bury my face in his neck.

I cling to him while I grind on his cock in an almost drunken haze, slowly swiveling my hips, clenching around him with every thrust, feeling his big, strong body against me. I find myself working for his orgasm instead of mine, but I don’t question it. That only seems natural.

It’s when I beg softly into his ear that he cums with a shuddering moan, his arms wrapping around me and crushing me into his body while he bucks impossibly deeper into me. As it almost always does, the frantic throbbing of his cock inside me and blissful warmth of his seed spreading through my belly send me over the edge too, moaning weakly as my whole body spasms.

I realize ten minutes later, still twitching in his possessive hold, that this had been a first. A big one.

Of all the times he had filled my pussy, it had always been by his choice and his actions. Bending me over the couch, or pinning me to the bed, or pressed into the wall of the shower. But this time, he hadn’t done a thing. I had milked him with my "lesbian" cunt like I’d die without his cum. I think there should be disgust or shame, but I just feel… full.

I’m too embarrassed to get off of anon but I crave a cock so badly yet I’ve never taken one before, so I recently purchased some dildos but I’m too small to take them no matter how much lube I use. I can never cram them deep enough :(

Don’t be shy anon, I don’t bite! I’m much more of a nibbler 😘

You poor thing… I can’t imagine what it’s like to want to try a cock so badly, but to be denied by your own inexperience. Don’t sweat it, and don’t lose hope… you’ll be surprised at how much your holes can accommodate once you practice enough. The key is edging and teasing yourself with just the tip until you’re too horny to care about how tight you are, and yes, more lube that you think you could possibly need.

Your holes were built for taking cock; they have a way of stretching themselves wider all on their own once you want it badly enough. And from there, it’ll just be a matter of keeping yourself as satisfied as you can before you’re finally ready to move on to the real thing…

I wish I would meet you in a dark alley while wearing my jacket full of lesbian pins 🩷

It’d be so adorable hearing them all jingle as I push you up against the wall and violate you… a fun little reminder of everything that I’m stripping away from you and ignoring just so I can pleasure myself with your body. I think when I was done, or when you were too preoccupied to notice, I’d slip a new pin onto that jacket to server as a reminder for you… one that looks just like my icon ❤️

More coerced sex fantasy for your horny pleasure

I never expected it to be good. I never thought I’d spend the following weeks obsessing over what he’d done to me. I could never have dreamed it would be so hard to resist touching myself to the thought of it. All of that is terrible, but realizing my heart is pounding from more than just fear as I stand naked in his bedroom for the second time a month later is worst of all.

He sits on the edge of the bed with his legs spread casually, cock already growing between his thighs. I can’t tear my eyes away no matter how hard I try, and judging from his leer my lack of self control is obvious. Strong, rough hands slide over my thighs and hips, up my stomach and over my tits, to rest on my shoulders with a gentle pressure. "Get on your knees."

I swallow nervously, subconsciously lick my lips because I can see where this is going. I knew he would want my mouth eventually, but I hadn’t let myself think too hard about it. The pressure on my shoulders becomes more insistent. I drop slowly to my knees, hands automatically going to his thighs for support before I think better of it.

The sudden rush of arousal I feel as I look up at him from between his legs, his half-hard cock so close to my face I can feel its heat, leaves me almost lightheaded. His fingers comb through my hair, stopping at the back of my head in a firm grip to guide me even closer.

The tip of his cock rests against my lips, slick with precum. He keeps his hand fisted in my hair, keeping me there until I part my lips and let my tongue flick over the head. His grasp loosens, sliding his hand up to rest lazily on top of my head like a dog, the effect completed when he says, "Good girl."

I hate the flush of pleasure his approval gives me, and the way my core clenches at those words, and the almost instinctual part of my lips to let his head fully enter my mouth. It rests on my tongue now, hot and solid and soft, his taste inescapable. A small, needy noise escapes the back of my throat before I can stop it.

I don’t know what to do now, though. I’ve never sucked anything like this before, except for a strap, but there was no intention in that. I flush with embarrassment, sitting between his legs with his cock in my mouth, and glance up at him in a desperate plea for guidance.

He seems to revel in my confusion, smiling down at me with too much sympathy as he asks, "Need help, sweetie?"

I try to pull away, but the grip on my hair is back. All I can do is whimper and nod around his cock.

"Then you’ll have to ask me nicely to use your mouth," he says, the regret in his voice twisted with mockery. I squeak again, this time in horror and indignation. His tone is all taunting now. "Or you could always leave."

I freeze. I could, but then the deal was off, and I couldn’t afford that. I close my eyes and shake my head slowly. The grip on my hair loosens again, and I finally pull myself off his cock. It feels almost strange not to have it pressing against my tongue anymore.

"Please use my mouth," I try to say, short and sharp. Except it leaves my mouth as a breathy stutter instead, sounding more desperate and wanting than anything. I blush so hard I think I might pass out.

"Good girl," he says again with enthusiasm that makes me feel like a pet he’s trying to train. The hand on my head fists my hair in a solid grip again, and he tugs me back onto his dick with a groan.

I feel like a toy as he guides my movements, slowly working my mouth further down his shaft, occasionally pulling out until just the tip is in my mouth and commanding me to lick or suck. I choke when his head grazes the back of my throat and he holds me there for a second longer. Suddenly, I’m grateful that I’d done this with a strap before.

He lets me breathe for a moment, never letting his tip leave my lips, and then pushes me down until I gag again, repeating the routine over and over again until I realize I’m not choking anymore. Until I’m shocked to find my nose pressed firmly into his crotch.

I blink my eyes open, surprised to find they had fluttered closed, to peer at him through involuntary tears. He meets my eyes smugly, swiping over my cheek with a free thumb. Almost sweetly, he says, "You look so pretty with a mouth full of cock."

He doesn’t give me the time or breath to respond. Instead, he begins the slow pump of my lips up and down his shaft again, pressing me hard into his crotch and letting my throat work his cock with every pass. It becomes easier when I learn when to gasp in a breath, and soon my eyes drift shut again. My head feels empty and buzzing, lost in the rhythm and his taste and smell and the way his heat stretches my throat.

"Are you sure you’re a lesbian?" He says suddenly, the mockery somewhat diminished by the moan behind his voice. My eyes drift open again, confused. My lips still move greedily over his cock at the same steady pace. Surely he can’t expect an answer.

it’s only then that I realize he isn’t guiding me anymore - his hand isn’t on my head at all. I’ve continued the movement completely by myself… and continue to do so.

I can’t stop. I can’t think. I don’t want to think. I let my eyes drift closed and push his cock down my throat again, holding it there and reveling in the fullness.

"Stay right there," He grunts above me, fisting my hair again and bucking into my face until I nearly panic. I feel his cock stiffen somehow harder down my throat, twitching and throbbing with his heartbeat.

At the last moment, he pulls me away, leaving the head of his cock between my lips as he begins to pump hot, thick cum over my tongue with a satisfied groan. I swallow without thinking, suckling obediently while I lick and gulp as much as I can, though it’s more than I thought possible. His hand is gentle now, petting my hair while he coos praise at me. It doesn’t feel demeaning anymore.

Suddenly, I’m grateful the night isn’t over yet.