Saturday, August 30, 2014

The Birthday Present

This story, like so many others, is inspired by and dedicated to Mysty Mason, from whom all good ideas originate.

I will continue the other story soon. I wrote some parts out of order and now I have to knit it back together.

For my daughter, Rebecca’s, 16th birthday, I made possibly the greatest mistake of my life. Against my better judgement, at the strenuous urging of her mother, I paid for my daughter to be augmented. For those of you not from around here, that means she had an extended, in her case, enormous, sex organ grafted onto her existing sex organ. The plastic surgeons connect up all the nerves and whatnot, and women are able to use them just like cocks. It’s a weird fad, I always thought, but it doesn’t seem to be going away. Even my mother got herself augmented in her later years. The irony is that the women who are most in favor of female supremacy were the ones who were getting the fake cocks. Why would women who despise penises want their own?

“Well, it’s not exactly a penis,” my wife insisted at the parent-teacher conference.

“How is it not?” I asked.

Mrs. Haley, Rebecca’s math teacher, was herself augmented, and had brought up the idea. “It’s much more than a simple penis. There are more nerve endings in the head than you have in your whole body, for a start. The fluid that it produces is far different from cum. In fact, some say it has restorative and energizing properties.”

“Propaganda,” I dismissed her.

Mrs. Haley persisted, “I don’t want to have to be the one to explain this, but a social dynamic develops among the upper classmen. Certain girls lead and certain girls follow. If she isn’t augmented before the end of puberty, she will miss out on the height and muscle growth that are side effects of the process. She will never be able to captain the soccer team if she can’t compete physically. And besides, and this is the really ugly part, there’s a respect thing. So many of the girls are getting them these days, those who do don’t just get treated differently. And heaven help the boys!”

Rebecca had begged me for years. One by one each of her friends had gotten their augmentations, and sure enough the procedure was followed by a spurt of growth for each one. Little Sandy, an adorable girl in her youth, now towered over both of us when she came over to dinner. But the growth also brought an attitude, I couldn’t help but notice. A devil-may-care disrespect for anything getting in the way of their wants. Maybe that’s just adolescence, like my wife says, but it seemed like something more.

Amy, my wife, had made up her mind years ago. Starting at age 11, when Rebecca was just a waifish pre-teen, Amy started transferring power over to her. When Amy left town for a week for work, she insisted I listen to Rebecca.

“I can’t make her grilled cheese again. It’s not healthy,” I explained to my wife on the phone.

“Put me on speaker,” she insisted. “Rebecca, you can’t eat only bread and cheese, it’s not good for you.”

“Mommy,” Rebecca’s voice whined. She was so whiney at that age. “You said I was in charge.”

“I did say that, but being in charge means the responsibility to do right for everyone. You can’t take advantage of it.”

“Well then I guess I’m not in charge,” she huffed, sitting in a dining room chair in the angriest way a person has ever sat in a chair.

“I’m sorry, Dave,” Amy told me, “I did say she was in control. You need to learn to give up some control to her even if it goes against your better judgement. You need to let her make her own mistakes.”

“This is absurd,” I insisted. “I shouldn’t have to eat garbage just because an 11 year old wants to.”

“Baby, that 11 year old is my daughter and you will treat her with respect.”

She was only “our” daughter when she needed something from me. The rest of the time she was Amy’s daughter. In truth, Amy had conceived her with DNA from an anonymous woman in a database. This donor had great education, employment, intelligence and was beautiful to boot. The decision hurt me deeply at the time, but I always treated Rebecca as my own flesh and blood.

Amy was happy to take advantage of that fact at other times. As the big birthday approached, she insisted I accompany Rebecca to the clinic. “It would be nice if you paid for the operation too.”

“Me? Why?” Amy easily made four dollars aor every one that I scraped out at work, and I hated the idea in the first place.

“It’s just a nice father-daughter thing to do. All of her friends had their fathers beside them, even Sandy, whose dad is divorced and lives in another state. Seriously.”

“Doesn’t the whole thing seem weird to you? I mean, I’ll be expected to… test it out. This is inscest, right? It’s creepy.”

“Well, first of all, you’re not her real father, so don’t worry about that. But you know how hard it is to get a boyfriend, especially a big girl like her. There’s, like. five girls to every guy at her school since everyone has two moms these days. If she had a boyfriend or something, of course, it would make sense for Rebecca to go with him, but she just doesn’t. Don’t make this hard, baby.”

The receptionist at the doctor’s office wasn’t augmented, but the doctor was. Her scrubs laid flat across her oversized member. “Are you excited to take this next step?”

“I am,” gushed Rebecca.

“It’s very exciting. You can become more woman than you ever imagined while also taking the best parts of being a man. You will become the perfect completion of humankind. And what about you, Pops? Are you excited?”

I forced a smile.

Rebecca flipped through the book of penises, each a surprisingly tasteful picture of a woman against a nondescript background. “Definitely this one,” she selected. “It’s love at first sight.”

I nearly choked when I saw it. “Is that the biggest one in the book?”

Rebecca blushed. Doctor Holly shushed me, “Don’t shame her for being honest. A lot of girls don’t have the nerve to pick that one.”

“It better not be this color though,” she worried. “Are they all this white-pink color?” Unlike her mother and I, Rebecca had bronze skin made brown from a summer of tanning.

The doctor patted her knee, “Don’t worry, we’ll grow it from your own skin. Normally we could even have a relative, a brother or cousin or something grow it and then graft it onto you, but I see that there is no one genetically close to you.”

“I’m an original,” Rebecca confirmed.

“Won’t the big one be be, like, hard to clean or something?” I objected.

The doctor swayed her head noncommittally. “It does need to be cleaned regularly, like all the others. Both urine and secretions to keep the tubes open. I expect dad will be helping with that.”

I nodded.

“Have you been practicing?”


The doctor got up, shaking her head, and found her prescription pad.  “You’ll want some level of oral and anal training before the big day if you want this to go smoothly. The secretions will help your body adapt to the stresses of the cock, but behavioral therapy works best. The local recreational center has classes on blowjobs and I expect your wife can help with the other end.”

The largest cock also happened to be the most expensive. It amounted to nearly a quarter of my yearly income. My wife found it impolite to discuss money, so I couldn’t even complain.

A couple of weeks before the surgery, Rebecca came down to the dining room in her underwear, half in tears. “I don’t know,” she said. “Is it supposed to look like this?”

A tube of flesh had grown on her inner thigh, stretching from a few inches above her knee to her panty line, and a third the width of her meaty thigh. “Weird,” I whispered to myself.

Rebecca wailed, “I heard that. Oh my god I’m so embarrassed. I’m such a freak.”

“You’re not a freak,” Amy comforted her, petting her hair. “Your father didn’t mean it.” Rebecca’s growth spurt had already started. She stood a few inches taller than me, but still a few shorter than her mother.

“I didn’t mean it,” I repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s so ugly,” she complained. “I’m scared it’s going to come out ugly.”

“It’s beautiful,” I insisted. “I think your legs look beautiful. And you’ll look even better after the surgery.”



“Thanks, Daddy.” Rebecca hugged me, squeezing out a little sigh. Suddenly she seemed coy and looked down at her feet. “Will you kiss it?” she asked.

“Oh, Rebecca, honey,” I started in a negative tone, but my wife caught my eye.

“That sounded like a direct request to me,” Amy said.

“You two can’t be serious.”

Amy said with a shrug, “you’ll be doing a lot more than that soon.”

They laughed while I kissed the bulging head of the proto-cock. That night, while my wife stretched my ass with her new strap-on, she said, “watching you kiss that growing cock was such a turn-on for me. I want to see more of that.”

I drove Rebecca to and from her surgery, ignoring the laughter of the ladies in the waiting room while I flipped through Futa Forward magazines, waiting for my new girl to emerge. When she did she was groggy and horny. I was able to get leave to work from home for a few days to better take care of my little girl, so I posted up in the study while she watched movies and shows in the next room. A few hours later, when I heard grunts and moans on the TV, I knew I was in trouble.

“Daddy,” her sore voice croaked through the house.

Her python was out and already inflated, hovering above the blankets of the sofa. On the TV a young boy was getting reamed by two women wearing strapons. The boy wore nothing but a chastity cage. “Will you help me?” she asked.

As humiliating as the display the other night was, it was nothing compared to actually sucking the cock. I hated the experience. Almost immediately the thing started leaking. I did my best to keep from dribbling on the blankets, but I was quickly overwhelmed. I swallowed mouthful after mouthful. The fluid tasted like my wife’s vagina, like the smell of body odor and dirty laundry. Rebecca’s long fingers went from gently caressing my hair to insistently pushing on my head. “Hang on now,” I tried to say, but only mumbled into her wide appendage. My mouth stretched wide to accommodate the whole head, the juice dripping straight down my throat. She slid her hips up, driving deeper and deeper into my mouth. When I finally gagged, she came right away, maybe in response to it. As I made my hurling sound, she pushed down hard on my head and blasted lump after lump of lady cum straight down my throat. I came up choking and wiping my mouth and eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” she mumbled as she laid back to sleep.

The lady tyrant demanded my services again that morning, and then again in the afternoon. The fourth time I heard the call “Daddy? Daddy?” my stomach dropped. I already felt full to bursting with her disgusting cum. I’d always found my wife’s scent pleasant, but this new flavor stuck around in my mouth forever. Eventually Amy, who had gotten home from work, came by my door. “Rebecca wants you,” she said.

“I know.”


I groaned.

“Hey, I changed all the diapers when she was little. This is your job now.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I changed the diapers.

“Well, it’s the idea anyway.”

I negotiated with the two of them that I would take it up the ass twice a day if I didn’t have to suck on the thing anymore. The doctor had said anal feedings were fine, but less effective for the curative properties. I was fine with taking the chance. My wife insisted on watching as her daughter took me for the first time. While I was cleaning myself I heard Rebecca calling, “Hurry! I feel like my balls are going to explode.”

When I got down there she was rubbing her nipples. “My whole body is tingling. My breasts are so sore. My ass tingles too.”

Amy nodded. “Must be the flood of hormones they were talking about.”

Rebecca dripped a few drops of her natural lubricant on my hole before entering. I squeezed a pillow as I bent over the sofa. Amy cringed in sympathy and patted my hand. “Slowly. Slowly,” I cautioned.

“Wow, this feels a lot better than his mouth,” Rebecca told her mother. “You must have done a good job on this ass.”

The cock was bigger than any strapon Amy owned, and felt different too. Once inside, the thing never stopped moving, never giving me a moment to relax. It pulsed with the heavy surging of blood and grew inside of me. Twice I had to crawl off of her from the immense pain, but she was understanding and backed off. “Alright, here we go,” she decided eventually, and started pumping my ass hard. I started moaning as each thrust drove the bulbous head deeper into my guts, but moans turned to screams as she got too deep. “Oh fuck yes, take it all,” she was shouting over my noise. My wife smiled sympathetically and brushed the hair from my eyes. “You’re doing so good,” she cooed.

“I don’t want… I don’t want…” I screamed.

Rebecca had her full weight on me now. My legs shivered under the pressure. With her added mass, the girl was probably heavier than me, and she felt it. She rubbed her chest across my back as she thrusted, her hands enclosing my shoulders. Finally she came, holding me so close I could almost feel her balls behind mine. She pulled out quickly, seemingly ripping my guts out with the bulbous head, dripping copious amounts of lady cum on the floor.

Amy said, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you honey. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Wait a sec- what’s that?”

She pointed to the puddle of filth between my legs.

“Is that… white? Is that boy cum?”

Sure enough another droplet oozed from my cock.

Amy hummed. “I don’t know how I feel about this. It’s pretty weird.”

Rebecca agreed, “Gross.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and grabbed my limp cock. “It’s just something that happens,” I explained. “I didn’t get hard.”

That didn’t stop Amy from chewing me out earlier. “I just feel betrayed,” she explained. “I mean, that’s my daughter. If you have sexual feelings for her, then this is a big problem. You’re just supposed to be helping her out, not falling in love with her.”

No matter how many times I insisted that it wasn’t like that, she insisted that I go back to wearing my chastity enforcer. She had made me wear the thing for a time early in the relationship, but quickly gave it up in favor of spankings. Now, it seemed, she needed to know that I wasn’t getting erect. Ever, apparently, because there was no talk of a release date.

Rebecca invited her futa friends over more and more, especially Sandy, who started making comments about my figure when I’d leave the room. “That ass looks tight,” she noted. “Is it tight? I’m jealous. My dad’s old and basically used up already. I bet your dad squirms.”

Now that I was in chastity full time, the women seemed more lax about being discreet. On a few occasions, Amy invited Rebecca to take me in the kitchen in front of friends, thinking nothing of showing off my caged dick or her own new toy. Rebecca's freedom and newfound confidence radiated off of her and she began to wear nothing but a tight stretchy white shirt and her hip-hugging grey sweatpants around the house. All of her futa friends wore essentially the same thing when they came over.

In August I turned 35. My wife promised a memorable birthday and she delivered.

“I have something every special for you,” she told me at the dinner table at the end of the night. “I was looking over our finances and, as you know, Sweetie’s been asking for a rent boy who could take some of the pressure off of you. Well, we don’t have enough to hire help, but you could quit your job and look after Rebecca full time. What do you think?”

I didn’t know what to say. Some part of me would be happy never to wake up early and go to work again, but the other part dreaded what my life would become.

“I have a present too, Daddy,” said Rebecca. “Since we’ll be spending so much time together, I thought it would be fun to get you these.”

She presented a bag. Inside were panties, stockings, gloves and collars, all black and pink and uber sexy. “Oh my,” was all I could say. “You know about this?” I asked my wife.

Amy nodded. “We talked about it, and I see her point. It gets a little boring watching her take you the same way night after night. It would be fun to spice up the proceedings a little.

Rebecca asked, “Do you want to try some on before you post up on the couch?”

I sighed. “Oh, do I have to? I thought we could skip just this one.”

Rebecca shifted uneasily in her chair. “You know I have to cum and urinate twice a day to keep it clean. It’s dangerous to skip one.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I thought you could masturbate this once.”

Both women gasped. Amy spoke first, “That’s disgusting.”

“Gross, dad.”

“What?” I asked.

Amy tsked. “I know that it might not bother a chronic masturbator like you, but normal people don’t jerk off. I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss about this.”

I groaned. “It’s just so big. It kinda hurts. I hate having to do it every day. Twice. Isn’t there someone else who could help?”

Amy shook her head. “You’re being so selfish. I could understand if you didn’t like it up the ass, but I’ve been making you cum that way for years. Just stop complaining about it already.”

Of course there was no one else. It was an argument I had tried and lost already. Like every other night I ended up bent over the sofa, biting the pillow, only now I wore black lace panties while it happened. That night my wife refused to release me from chastity, saying I hadn’t been good enough. Instead she let me fuck her with a strap-on nearly twice the size of my little thing. It was probably all the same anyway, since I can hardly get hard after Rebecca’s hard reaming.

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