On a special request from Mistress Charlotte to one hyper-horny slut – the horniest breeding blog I can muster. I was specifically told to hold nothing back and give in to all the filth, so… Enjoy!
I’m working in the kitchen, when I hear the door close. Of course I am, where else would I be? I glance briefly at the clock – it’s already past ten in the evening. The sun has long gone down by now, and this isn’t the first time you’ve come home so late this week. Normally I’m in bed by now, but you wanted something special to bring in for a morning tea tomorrow, so I’m up late. Without turning from my baking, I call out to you: “Welcome home! How was your day, d-“, but the words die in my throat. It’s not something I’ve seen, or even something I heard – but I can just sense… something. There’s something in the air. A chill runs through my body – naked but for my apron – but this chill has nothing to do with hot or cold. This is pure anticipation. Something is coming. I turn to look at you as you enter, but it’s too late. You’re already standing behind me, I can feel your presence there, the warmth of your body so close to mine. I can see your reflection in the mirrored splashback – your body, utterly nude, standing proud and confidently. Your breasts, utterly beautiful, nipples hardening in the cool night air. Your face, as bewitching as ever – and utterly full of need. Not a hunger or thirst, not in the conventional sense, but something more primal, deeper… darker. I can see it in your eyes, your oh-so-pretty eyes – there is a need there that must be sated.
I feel something pressing into me from behind, and my legs threaten to give out as I realise it’s your cock. Hot as flame, hard as iron, beads of pre-cum dripping onto my flesh. I see your lips move to form words, and even as I hear you say them my legs have already made good on their threat, as I fall to the floor: “On your knees, slut.” That last letter is sharp enough to cut the air, and I get to my knees and turn to face you – face your cock. You smile – not that I can see it, transfixed by the beauty before me – and place your hand on the back of my head. “That’s it, very good. Open wide, now. You’ve got this, baby boy.” I obey, either out of instinct or the sheer desire in the air – perhaps it’s both. But any thought of disobeying you vanishes as you enter my mouth, and then, my throat. For a while – seconds, minutes, hours? – you just sit there, staring down at me, holding yourself in place within me, daring me to gag. Declaring yourself more important than my words, than my very air – and how could I ever disagree with that? Eventually, inevitably, I cough around your length – and like a shot from a runner’s pistol, you take that as a signal to start moving, rapidly. In and out, fucking my face, fucking my throat, choking me on your big cock. Occasionally you pull yourself nearly all the way out, leaving just the head in my mouth for me to worship, tasting your pleasure on the fat head of it, before you plunge back into my throat, as if to say “Before anything else, this belongs to me”. And, again, how could I ever disagree?
Eventually, though, you withdraw yourself from my throat, leaving me coughing and spluttering on the floor, tears streaming down my face. If I had makeup, it’d be ruined. On the inside I’m delighted, though – it’s been SO many nights since our schedules have lined up, you’ve been so busy with work, and I’m just glad we get to spend some quality time together. I think about saying this aloud, once my throat recovers, but then I see the glint in your eye again, and even without you saying a word, I realise a couple of things.
- 1) We aren’t remotely finished yet.
- 2) You feel just as happy as I do.
- 3) There’s… something else going on here.
Whatever it was I felt in the air before… It wasn’t this. This face-fucking was pent-up desire and carnal need, but it wasn’t that same primal urge that I saw in you before. The one… The one that I see in you now. And then, I realise. I know exactly what it is, and my entire body comes alive at once. My heart thumps in my chest, I shiver involuntarily from head to toe, and I pray you don’t notice my eager reaction. But you do. Of course you do, you always do. You’ve always known me better than I’ve known myself, and tonight is no different. A wicked grin splits your face. “Oh, excited, are we, slut?” I brace myself for imminent teasing, and am a little stunned when it doesn’t happen. I look a little closer at you and realise – you really are just as excited as I am for what’s about to happen. You offer your hand and pull me to my feet, although it doesn’t last long: “Bend over, baby boy. Bend over and show Daddy that cute little sluthole, right now.”
I shudder with excitement and bend myself over the kitchen counter, the bow of my apron resting prettily above my ass. You cup my cheeks in your hands and spread them, letting out a low whistle as you see the slight gape of my sluthole – I’d just finished my required buttplug time earlier. I stifle a moan and crane my head back towards you – this urge is starting to reach a breaking point. “Mistress, ple-“, but I don’t get any further before you deliver a wicked smack to my ass. “Oh, no, not tonight, slut,” and for a heart-breaking second I misunderstand, think you’re calling it off. But then you continue: “I’m not your Mistress, tonight. Tonight, I’m your Daddy. And soon,”, you deliver another sharp smack to the other cheek, “soon I’m gonna be your babydaddy.” Relief floods through me, overpowered by a rush of arousal at your words. My heart beats even faster as I feel you rest your cock in the crack of my ass – thicker, harder, bigger than I’ve ever felt it, the tip oozing pre-cum. “Are you ready for me, baby boy?” In a horny haze I hear you ask this, as you spread my cheeks once more and align yourself with my entrance. But before my mushy mind can form an answer, you’re already inside me.
And then you’re really inside me, hilting yourself balls-deep as you let out a low moan of satisfaction. My mind forgets how to do anything, converting from mush into totally liquid, only rebooting as you slowly draw yourself back out. Your next thrust shuts me down again – just as hard, just as deep. It’s only once you grip my breeding hips and get a proper rhythm going that I remember what’s happening, moaning desperately with impossible pleasure, like a whore in heat. Which probably isn’t even inaccurate at this point. That cute little hole stretches tight around your massive cock, and for a second I wonder if it will ever go back to how it once was. But then that thought goes the way of all the others, as it simply doesn’t matter – what’s important is this, right now, and finding a way to make it last forever. Your ridiculous, gorgeous dick saws into me, crushing my prostate with every movement, as my arms simply give up the idea of holding me upright. I slump over the counter as you laugh – that beautiful laugh – and keep going even harder, fucking into me like a woman possessed. I can’t speak, I can barely think. It’s taking all I have to stay conscious. But you? You are inexhaustible, your stamina unflagging as you just. keep. going. You rut into me over and over – your heavy, full balls slapping into me with every powerful thrust you deliver so deep inside. Occasionally you drive especially deep and just stay there, grinding away until you elicit a particularly loud moan from the puddle that was once your slut. Then, with a smirk and a chuckle, it’s back to pounding away relentlessly.
I truly don’t know how long this goes on for. I may have even passed out once or twice – I wonder if I would’ve seemed much different, if I had? I was already practically insensate with lust, after all. Eventually, though, we neared the end of even your bottomless reserves. You didn’t say anything, but I could feel it – you were close. And then, you stopped. Dead still, your big dick still buried inside me. For a second my body was confused – “wait, we’re not being ravaged, what’s happening?” – and then, my mind was confused. Why was this happening? I propped myself up on trembling arms and started to turn – but then I felt your hand on my head, shoving me back down into the kitchen counter. And then, a word.
“Beg.”
I started to protest – come on, you’re this close, just finish it – but a vicious spank to my ass shut me up. You spoke again, a little breathless from the effort of ruining me: “Beg for me to pump you full, baby boy. Or I’m not doing it.” I hesitated, for a second – surely you need this as much as I do, you wouldn’t just stop, would you? But just the thought of it was too terrible, and the words came unbidden to my mind:
“Oh, god, please fuck a baby into me Daddy, I need it, I need it so badly, I need to be completely stuffed full with you, packed to the brim, swollen and gravid with your spawn, I want it so badly I can’t think straight, I can’t think at all, I need you to fuck me full with your big cock, Daddy, knock me up, make me your little breeding bitch, please it’s all I need, it’s all I’ve ever wanted, please just put a baby in me, I’ll do anything, I’ll- ah!”
I’m not sure if you’d heard enough, or if you couldn’t take any more – but whatever the case, it did the trick. You launched back into me harder than ever, both hands still holding my head down into the counter as I continued babbling desperate pleas to be filled. It didn’t take long before you couldn’t hold back any more, and with one final thrust you bottomed out in me, letting out a low groan as your beautiful cock spurted way down inside. Pulsing hot and deep inside me, packing me completely full with your seed. I could feel a little bulge in my belly from the sheer weight of it, your liquid warmth filling me up from the inside. My mind was swimming with feelings and emotions – not a single thought to be found, merely the bliss of being so thoroughly taken. I felt you slowly moving within as you pulled yourself out of me with a little *pop* sound, felt my hole desperately clenching around something that suddenly wasn’t there any more. You looked down at me and simply said “Congratulations, baby boy,” – but I could tell from your tone that you were beaming with pride, my babydaddy. I propped myself up, shuddering a little as some of your cum waterfalled out of me, and turned back to you with an ecstatic smile.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Service and Sluttery 
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