NOW I'M THE DAUGHTER by Throne

NOW I'M THE DAUGHTER by Throne

I couldn't believe everything that had happened.  Before we got married, less than a year ago, I knew my wife was a super-genius with computers.  I also knew she had a kinky side.  What I never suspected was that she'd use the former skillset to advance the latter desires -- with ME!  Magda had dropped some hints that her talents had been used for hacking for wealthy clients.  I sort of believed her because huge amounts of money had appeared in our joint bank accounts.  What was a total shock was when I tried to check the balance online one day and found that my password no longer worked.  When I uncertainly asked her about it, she smiled devilishly.  Magda is tall, with an oval face dominated by high cheekbones and dark eyes.  She has long black hair and a shapely figure.  At that moment she was wearing a loose blouse and tight slacks.

She came close to me, making her superior height very evident.  Magda ran her fingers through my collar-length blond hair.  "Yes, David.  I did that.  I also put all our property solely into my name.  Your credit cards have been cancelled."

"You can't do that," I fumed.  "Change everything back to the way it was."

"It's not going to happen, dear.  You see, David doesn't exist anymore.  Your birth records and our marriage license have been eradicated."

"That's not possible."

"Oh, but it is.  Don't worry, though.  I've created a new identity for you.  This is a twisted scenario that I've been planning since we first met.  You being so short and rather pretty fits my plans perfectly."

"What are you saying about a new identity?  I don't understand."

"From now on, you're my teenage daughter, Diva."

"That's insane," I sputtered.  "It's not... not..."

"Feeling dizzy, darling?  I did a special job for a doctor and part of his payment to me was a supply of drugs.  Right now, you're experiencing the effects of something that will keep you docile.  There were also very potent female hormones, which I've been slipping you for a while.  I think you'll be perfect as my female offspring."

"This can't be happening."  My voice was getting thick and my eyelids kept fluttering.  Magda walked me to an easy chair.  While I was still on my feet, she undid my pants and dropped them to my ankles, followed by my boxer shorts.  That exposed my penis, which is of average size, and my pale public hair.  "While you're napping, I'm going to get rid of that little bush down there.  And I'm going to have to do something about your dick, to help you see yourself in your new persona."  She eased me down into the seat.  "Don't you worry about a thing, Diva.  I have all the details worked out.  Wait until you see the pretty clothes that I've been buying for you."

After that I blacked out.  Several times I came halfway back to consciousness, to find her doing something to my crotch at once point, and then to find her fussing with my hair the next time.  I was dimly aware of being on my feet and having her dress me in something.  I even got the impression that there was someone else there at times. someone male.  When I finally returned to full wakefulness, what I discovered was devastating.

I was lying in a canopied bed in a room that was totally feminine and rather juvenile, fit for a young girl but not for me.  Except that when I looked down the length of my body what I saw was unfamiliar.  What covered it was a short pink nightie made of cotton.  My feet were in fuzzy slippers in the same color.  From thigh to ankle my legs were exposed and there wasn't a single hair on them.  Instead, they were smooth and, I found when I dared to touch them, had satiny soft skin.

"You didn't..." I blurted.  "My dick hasn't been..."  In a panic I pulled up the hem of the nightie to check my genitals.  They were still intact, except that my penis was now encased in a plastic cage that was attached to a ring around the base of my testicles and locked there.  The enclosure was so small that it reduced my entire manhood to the size of what would formerly have been just the head.  "Magda," I whimpered.  "You have to unlock me.  Gimme back my own clothes."

"That's not going to happen," she said and then chuckled.  "Not when I've put so much work into fulfilling my naughty fantasy.  Like I told you before the drugs put you under, you're now my daughter Diva."

I stood up alongside the bed, feeling unsteady.  Moving carefully, I went to the closet.  There was a full-length mirror on the inside of the door.  I paused before opening it.  Did I really want to see more of what she had turned me into?  Taking a deep breath, I swung the door wide and saw my reflection.  It made me gasp.  Staring back at me with wide eyes and an open mouth was a youthful female.  Her hair was lighter than mine had been and styled into a mass of ringlets.  Her eyebrows had been thinned and there was absolutely no trace of facial hair.  My lips were slightly fuller than before.  I shook my head in disbelief and the stranger did the same.

Magda said, "I'm delighted by how well you turned out.  Not that you're done.  Far from it.  Those hormones have built up in your system.  I gave you the accompanying drug yesterday, which will activate them all at once.  In the next two weeks the changes will take place rapidly.  You're going to have a sweet adolescent figure, Diva.  Your voice will become naturally higher.  And you'll never have to shave your face again, ever."  She smiled encouragingly, as if she expected me to smile back at her.

I reached down to grip the cock-lock through my shamefully girly nightie.  Gently I tugged on it.  As I feared, it was quite secure.  A shiver ran through me.  I thought back to everything she had told me about how my male identity had been erased.  Along with my identity, all my wealth and property were gone.  I tried to summon up my willpower but found that I couldn't do it.  As much as I tried to formulate a plan, or at least the first steps of one, I couldn't.

She eyed me with sympathy that probably wasn't sincere.  "Don't fret, Diva.  Your mind will clear up over time, as I cut back on the drugs causing you to feel dopey.  Those hormones, however, will keep being administered for a while yet.  After that, your glandular system will have shifted over to producing its own estrogen and whatever, to keep you soft and maintain the budding breasts and plump buns you'll soon have, along with reducing your muscle mass and adding a thin layer of fatty tissue all over.  You're going to look and act like my precious teen girl."

"Act like?"  I was desperately grasping for something masculine onto which I could hold.  "You can't make me act like a sissy."

"No?  Not even if I have some help?"

"What are you talking about?"

She called out, "Bruno, my love.  Would you come in here and give me a hand with Diva?  She's acting up, like we feared she would."

Through the door of the redecorated bedroom came a towering powerful man.  He had abundant and unruly hair, dark like Magda's, and beard shadow on his wide jaw.  All he wore was a sleeveless undershirt and boxer shorts.  Plenty of body hair was shown off.  Running his eyes up and down me, seeing what I had become, he leered in a disturbing way.

"Are you misbehaving, Diva?" he demanded gruffly.

"I... I'm not... I didn't..."

"What bad girls get is spankings.  Do you need to be spanked, Diva?"

"Oh my gosh, no.  You can't do that.  I'm an adult male and..."

That was as far as I got before he shot forward, grabbed my shoulders, and gave me a few hard shakes.  "You are NOT an adult and you are NOT a male," he said firmly.  "I'm going to have to beat those crazy ideas out of you.  When I say beat, I mean spank."  His thick fingers went around my bare upper arm.  "Let's go to the living room, Diva."

"Please stop calling me that," I requested with no force behind the words.

"Why should I?  It's your name, isn't it?"

I almost contradicted him but then thought better of it.  Trying to strike a compromise, I said, "It's what Magda has started calling me."

"First of all, call her Mommy or Mommy Magda.  And it's not just what SHE'S calling you.  It's what I'M calling you too.  Now, are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"  His strong hand tightened its grip.

"No," I said fearfully.

"That should be, 'No, Daddy' or 'No, Daddy Bruno.  Right?"

My throat was tight and my mouth dry.  In a strained whisper, I agreed, "Yes, Daddy Bruno."  This was going rapidly from bad to worse.  Then I remembered why I was being taken to the other room.  "About that spanking..." I began in a respectful tone.

"Who knows what's best for you, girl?" he wanted me to tell him.

I couldn't let this go any further.  If I didn't free myself now, I might never get the chance.  I had zero resources to fall back on.  My body would be changing soon.  Our home -- which was now Magda's property -- was large and out in the country.  My family money and her impressive income could pay for everything indefinitely.  I hadn't ever worked and now I didn't even have my real name to put on a job application.  My records showed me as a girl who was financially dependent on her mother.  Was Bruno going to assume the role of my father?  It was all too confusing.  I had to speak up or perhaps never have the opportunity again.  When I tried to break free the effort was futile.  He was walking me toward a wooden chair that hadn't been in the living room before.

"Now listen to me," I squeaked, sounding as panicked as I felt.  "We have to sit down and talk about this."

"I'm going to sit down alright," he said, as he set himself comfortably on the chair.  "And you're going to stay where I put you."  He dragged me across his lap.  I felt his muscular legs under me.  Bruno pulled up the bottom of my nightie, baring my bottom.  I squealed.  "Stop.  Please.  I'm too old to be spanked."

Magda told me, "We'll be the judges of that."  To Bruno she said, "Do you think Diva is too old to be swatted on the fanny?"

"No, I don't.  A girl like her needs to have some respect for her elders, even if it has to be smacked into her."  He patted my bare hairless buttocks.  I'd never been touched that way by a man.  I cringed and whimpered.  "And this is where the lesson has to be applied."

His hand went up and froze in midair.  I gripped the legs of the chair.  This was really happening.  As short as I am, my feet didn't quite reach the carpet.  I squirmed involuntarily.  Bruno brought his wide hand down hard and landed a painful swat.  I wailed, sounding much too much like a girl.  My lower legs kicked.  He pressed down more firmly on the small of my back and delivered three more hard ones, which left me mewling and sobbing nonstop.

My wife came over to put the palm of her hand against where I'd just been hit.  She remarked, "Diva's bottom is warming up nicely.  I think this lesson will really stay with her."

After she retreated a few steps, Bruno administered another half dozen.  That left me with tears streaking my cheeks.  I was breathing hard.  My nose threatened to start running.  When was he going to stop?  Surely, I had suffered enough.  But that wasn't how he saw it.  The big man landed an additional dozen, in no hurry to finish the job, until I was a blubbering wreck.

"Now, Diva," he said with exaggerated patience.  "Do you think you can remember not to give Mommy and Daddy any backtalk?"

I didn't want to surrender my right to speak up for myself, but I couldn't take any more of that penetrating pain.  Through quivering lips, I said, "Yes, Daddy Bruno.  I'll be good.  Diva won't make any more trouble."

"I hope that's true because it hurts me to have to paddle your sitter."  To Magda he said, "Do I get a thank-you for helping with Diva?"

"You most certainly do," she said, coming close again.

My wife leaned over and put one hand on his stubbled cheek.  She kissed him passionately on the mouth.  He returned her ardor, while still balancing me on his lap.  It was shameful and made me insanely jealous.  That was my bride kissing him, and being kissed back.  When their lips parted, she exhaled pleasurably.

With her words full of seduction, she told him, "You've got me all heated up, Bruno.  I think we should put Diva to bed for a nap, so we can do grown-up things."

"I think so, too.  And with that chastity on her, we won't have to worry that the little sweetie is touching herself in inappropriate ways."

Magda tittered.  "She won't be able to do that from now on.  Not unless we're feeling especially generous."

What were they saying?  I wasn't going to be unlocked?  What about my needs?  I was used to enjoying sexual release whenever I wished.  Magda had spoiled me.  Was that part of her insidious plan?  To get me accustomed to having her available and then suddenly deny me not only that, but even the chance to relieve myself?  I projected ahead in my mind and experienced the first twinges of discomfort in my testicles.  Bruno rose, at the same time easing me off his lap and helping me to stand.

My bride said, "Hold your pink nightie up in the rear, Diva.  Let us see what a fine job Bruno did on your tail end.  It's so colorful.  You should thank him for helping you to be a better daughter to me."

I heard the tremble in my words as I told the tall brute, "Thank you, Daddy, for that spanking.  I needed it to help me remember not to be bad."  Why was I talking like that, sounding so submissive?  I guessed that it was reflexive, to avoid further punishment.  Already I was beginning to feel needy in relation to them, as if they were the adults and I the child, the immature girl.  I stood there raising the part of my nightie that should have been covering my spanked backside.  It was mortifying.

"All right," Magda declared.  "Nap time for Diva.  Let's go, honey.  Into your pretty bed, in your lovely bedroom.  Won't that be nice?"

"Yes, Mommy," I said, my voice muted.

I preceded them back into the girlishly decorated space.  The dresser was white with pink trim.  On it sat a unicorn lamp and several dolls.  On the walls were framed pictures of clowns, but also posters of members of boy bands, their eyes seeming to focus on me in my dishabille.  There was a vanity table that matched the dresser.  From atop it, Magda took a small perfume dispenser and sprayed several misting shots into the air.  I was allowed to lower my nightie back into place, but then had to get into bed.  She pulled the covers up only to my waist.  The sweet smell of perfume, an overly flowery scent, wafted down and filled my nostrils.  My wife leaned over and offered a solicitous expression.  Her hands went to the front of the cotton nightie and lightly stroked.  Oh no.  She was touching my nipples through the thin material.  That always got me overexcited.  My poor dick pulsed inside its confinement.  My balls drew up tight.  I was getting more and more aroused, with no way to gain relief.  My entire body was like one continuous erogenous zone.  She looked so tempting and was so close.  I gasped repeatedly as she brought me to the heights of sexual stimulation, with no easy way for me to descend.

Straightening back up, she said, "Have a nice nap, Diva."

Bruno put his arm around her shoulders.  "Yeah.  Get some rest, lovebug.  We'll be in the next room."  He smiled mischievously.  "And we won't make any more noise than we have to."  He gave me a wink, with lots of suggestion in it.

They kissed once more.  This time it was comparatively chaste.  It conveyed the idea that, along with passionate emotions, they also shared tender feelings for each other.  The thought of my wife not only craving him as her sexual partner, but perhaps even loving him, gave me pangs of envy.  I had been eliminated as a man and was being replaced as a husband.  It was sheer mental torment.  And I was still tingling from her innocently administered teasing.  The cock-lock was so uncomfortably small.  It made it look like I had no manhood down there, an effect enhanced by the absence of pubic hair.  I moaned as they left the room, with Bruno giving her bottom a possessive fondle.  The door remained ajar.

Lying there in my juvenile bed, with the room smelling of perfume, surrounded by decor befitting my new status, my rump stinging and my penis making demands I couldn't satisfy, I was unable to stop from thinking about the fix I was in.   What could I do without money, a car, or even a home that I could live in without Magda's sufferance?  My identity had been wiped out, so there was no way to prove who I was.  If I escaped, I might end up in some asylum, at the mercy of the attendants.  My thoughts kept swirling around until they were interrupted by sounds from the next room.

"Oh, Bruno."  Magda's voice was barely muffled.  "I'm glad that's all you're wearing, because I want to get you naked ASAP."

""Yeah, well you need to lose that blouse and those tight slacks right away.  Spanking David -- I mean Diva -- got me hot.  She's so smooth all over.  Jeez.  I can't keep my hands off her."

"Right now, stud, you need to keep your hands on ME.  After all, she doesn't have anything to compare with THESE."

"Damn.  And they're so nice to get my hands all over.  Still, Diva will be growing boobs real soon.  Small ones, but..."

My wife laughed.  "You horny bastard.  Use all that perverted energy on me tonight."

"You got it, babe."

After that the conversation devolved into sighs, moans, and then cries of passion.  Bruno grunted and Magda loudly purred.  I thrashed around under the covers.  My dick throbbed and my nipples tingled.  The lovemaking next door went on and on.  I had to listen to my wife being driven into several orgasms.  Finally, they both came at the same time.  A half hour later, Magda reappeared, mussed but looking well sated.  She was all apologies about how much noise they had made, but I knew she was talking about their lovemaking only to add to my unease.  I was allowed up for a short while more.  Finally, it was time for me to go back to bed for the night.  It was still early but this was my new schedule.  Bruno brought a squat brown bottle and a soup spoon with him.  He handed the bottle to Magda.  As soon as she opened it, I was assailed by a fishy stench.

My wife said, "Yummy.  Fish oil.  Just the thing for a growing girl."

She took the spoon and filled it with as much as it would hold, then brought it toward my mouth.  I sealed my lips but a few words from Bruno about a possible repeat spanking made me part my jaws.  The spoon was inserted.  I closed my mouth and, as the utensil was withdrawn, all the stinky liquid ended up on my tongue.  I forced myself to swallow it.  As much as I wanted to rush to the bathroom and rinse my mouth, Magda simply gave me a patronizing pat on the head and left me there, turning out the light but again not closing the door all the way.  I lay awake, feeling sorry for myself and trying to think of a way out of the trap I was in, before I at last fell asleep.  In the middle of the night, I was awakened by another of their two-person orgies.

Over the days that followed I learned just how effective those hormones I was on could be.  I sprouted two small breasts without losing any of the receptivity in my nipples.  If anything, they became even more sensitive.  My bottom softened and filled out.  At the same time, my limbs became shapely.  My face also changed, growing rounder, so that my former male identity was more obscured than ever.  Bruno gave me spankings every second or third day.  When I wasn't dreading one that had been scheduled or still smarting from one that had been recently given, I was anxiously anticipating another that I would inevitably earn.  Much of my time was spent in girly activities like watching TV shows that sold fashions, make-up and jewelry, reading books meant for pubescent girls, and paging through insipid fan magazines that featured boy bands, whose members looked distinctly unmanly, though never as feminine as myself.  I was on a diet that I didn't understand but had the good sense not to question.  My best guess was that it was to plump me up a bit more and then keep me at that weight.

I also reminded daily that I was a cuckold.  Bruno and Magda were very affectionate with each other when they were around me.  It wasn't unusual to see their romantic moments lead to his hands wandering freely over her desirable body.  She responded in kind.  Sometimes they would slip away from me.  More than once I was left sitting on the carpet in the den, watching some teen-oriented TV show, while they went to another room to have sex.  It wasn't difficult to figure out when my wife was giving her lover a first class and highly imaginative blowjob, not far from where I was, like she had never done for me before I was changed from David to Diva.  Their nighttime sexual encounters were frequent and grew more audible over time.

Most damaging to my male ego was what I had to wear.  Panties were a daily embarrassment.  There were belly shirts with mini-shorts, a bandeau and microskirt combination, and even a cheerleader uniform, in which I was made to strike poses.  Pictures were taken.  As my modest bosoms did a chubby-up, I was ceremoniously given my first training bra, which I had to don and model in front of the 'adults'.  When I made the mistake of objecting about clothes a few times, I had to spend the rest of those days naked.  Even after I learned not to object to anything I had to put on, no matter how ridiculously teeny or frilly, my Mommy and Daddy still declared occasional Nude Days to remind me to appreciate my growing wardrobe.  I was becoming lost in a world of girliness.  I decided to risk one more attempt to redeem myself, or at least as much of me as I could salvage.

I waited until Bruno wasn't around and all of my simple morning chores were completed.  Then I went to Mommy Magda and stood obediently aside while she finished talking to one of her girlfriends on the phone, my hands folded in front of me and eyes respectfully lowered.

"Yes, Diva?"  She observed me coolly.  "What is it, sugar?"

"I was wondering, Mommy, if maybe, if it's okay with you, I could be treated like I was a little older."

I waited for an explosion but instead she grew thoughtful.  "Well," she considered, "there is someone who I've had some discussions with, who handles special girls like you, and she could make a determination of age-appropriate ways to handle you.  I'm sure she'd be happy to stop around and have a chat with my Diva."

"Thank you, Mommy Magda."  I was touched that she even considered my plea.  At last, I saw the possibility of a path to freedom opening up before me.  Surely Magda would tire of the nasty game she was playing with my life.  Eventually she would consider setting me free, even creating another identity for me with her computer skills.  I envisioned myself returning to masculine life, wearing male clothes, and being freed from that cock-lock that was a daily ordeal.  She told me later the same afternoon, while I was reading a young adult novel about a teenage superheroine meeting a handsome, freelance news photographer of the same age , that an appointment had been made and the woman would come to the house in a few days.  I wanted to know exactly which day but was used to being treated like a youngster who isn't given exact dates or detailed explanations.

The woman appeared one evening, between dinner and my early bedtime.  She wore a charcoal-grey skirt suit and was tall and thick-limbed, with an oversized bust and massive ass and thighs.  Her stockings were dark and her black shoes had chunky heels and square toes.  She had her auburn hair up in a tight bun at the back of her head.  Her face was stern but she could switch to a kindly expression in seconds.  She had me sit down on an ottoman in the living room while my 'parents' went elsewhere.  I had on a ridiculously short skirt and remembered to keep my knees modestly together, with my hands joined and perched atop them.

"Hello, Diva," she said amiably.  "I'm Miss Brown.  I hope we can be friends."  She spoke to me in short sentences, as if I had the mind and accompanying attention span of a young girl.

Our session went on for about an hour.  Because I was used to retiring early, I yawned a few times, in spite of myself, but remembered to cover my mouth when I did it.  There were a few questions about how 'big people' related to each other, ones that skirted around the issues of sex without touching directly on it.  I didn't think anything special about those inquiries.  Mommy had given me a big dessert after dinner so I was sort of drowsy from that.  Anyway, I tried to strike a balance between acting like Diva and thinking like David, though it had become increasingly difficult to access my old self.  By the end I was fairly sure I had convinced her I was mature enough to be treated as somewhat older.  Then Miss Brown called Mommy Magda and Daddy Bruno (How I hated having to call them that, even though it had become second nature to me by then.) back into the room.

"I think you can begin treating Diva at a higher level of development," the professional-acting woman announced.  "She shows advanced orientation in certain limited areas.  With that in mind, there is one curious aspect to her persona that you should explore.  She has a sexually promiscuous personality and a definite oral compulsion.  I believe it would be beneficial to her if you were to include her in your bedroom activities, so that as a participant she can learn that everything one chooses to do is natural for themself and their consenting partner... or partners.  At the same time, it might be best to maintain her chastity for the foreseeable future, until she is more mature emotionally."

What?  She was telling them to involve me in threesomes?  While not letting me get my rocks off?  NO.  My plan had backfired.  All at once I was a nervous wreck.  I hugged myself and bit my lips.  Miss Brown said her goodbyes and reminded them that she was always available for follow-ups.  She also mentioned that she worked as a sex therapist, saying it while giving me a hungry stare.  I felt creepy-crawly all over.

"Well, Diva," my wife said with a grin.  "It appears that you're going to get your wish.  You can spend time with us in the big bed this evening.  Won't that be fun?"

"I... suppose," I said nervously.

"It's getting late," Bruno pointed out.  "So, we should start right away."  He stood and removed his shirt, baring his broad hairy chest.  "I'm sure you'll enjoy being treated like you're older for a change."

Magda took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom.  She and Bruno undressed me before doing the same for themselves.  They got into bed, lying alongside each other.  I had to kneel between them, level with their feet.  They spread their legs.

"I think you know what to do next," my wife said, sounding for a change like she was talking to David and not Diva.  "Remember that thing you never wanted to do months ago, before your age regression?"

Memories flooded back.  I had always declined to use my mouth between her legs.  Then came the day she detailed how she had taken my adult male life away from me.  Now it was all coming full circle in a weird way, with her expecting me to at last lap her pussy.  I moved myself between her legs and reluctantly got down on my belly, with my face inches from the target.  The familiar threat of Bruno intervening hung over me.  I gave a few licks and hated the taste.  Without stopping, I raised my eyes and saw them kissing.  This was the most disturbing moment since she had begun changing my life.  My nipples pulsed and my imprisoned penis throbbed.  I kept my tongue moving and sucked her clitoris a few times, until she was breathing hard and I knew a climax was approaching.  Bruno locked lips with her and their mouths were fastened together when she was shaken by a massive orgasm.  I stayed where I was, gently lapping her through a long afterglow.  No one spoke until her waves of pleasure had receeded.

"That was delightful, Diva," she congratulated.  "But Miss Brown wanted you to have the maximum of experiences possible, related to being sexually advanced beyond your physical age."

I wanted to protest, to demand that they admit how old I really was, and my true gender, but after everything I'd been through, I no longer possessed the ability to do it.  Did she expect me to do something for her lover like I had done for her?  I kept telling myself that I was a man, though I no longer had the body or -- increasingly -- the personality of one.  Without a word, I shifted from being between her legs to lying in the 'V' of his.  They handed me a pillow, which I doubled over and got under my smooth hairless chest, to elevate my head.  That put me in the perfect position for what came next.  I abandoned what was left of my pride and ran my tongue over the underside of Bruno's long thick cock.  In less than a minute I had it standing up.  Then I took the fat knob between my lips and sucked.  Magda cautioned me not to rush, or I would incur more corporeal discipline.  It was a nightmare, to be lying in the same bed with my gorgeous wife, while I performed fellatio on her lover, the man who had made me a cuckold.  With her whispering tips and encouragements to me, I gave him the blowjob I'd always wished to receive from her but never had.  My gag reflex stopped me from taking him into my throat, but that just meant I had to do more with my lips and tongue.  He moaned with pleasure when I swirled around the wide corona.  I kept at it for a while but inevitably reached the point when his ejaculation was approaching.  The last thing I wanted was for Bruno to spunk in my mouth.

"Get ready," Magda advised me with subdued cheerfulness, sounding like she was barely able to contain sheer glee.  "It's going to be very special."  She paused a beat and then added, "Something that you'll never forget."

As if that had been his cue, Bruno grunted loudly and jerked his hips.  I bobbed my head down and up several times.  That put him over the edge.  He blasted gouts of cream against the roof of my mouth, and it promptly got all over my tongue.  There was so much that, even though I reflexively swallowed, gagging it down, some still leaked from the corners of my lips.  It was sickening.  I had experienced a life-moment that would define me from then on.  I had become an oral sex slave to my wife and her bedmate.  As if all the credit for what had just happened belonged to him, she gave Bruno a deep kiss of praise.

Afterward, she said to me, "I'm going to take you out tomorrow, Diva, and get you something special to wear.  Maybe a pretty minidress to show off your legs, now that they've gotten so shapely.  And perhaps a top with a scoop neckline.  We can't hide those growing boobies forever.  Won't that be fun?"

There was only one answer I could give.  "Yes, Mommy Magda.  Thank you.  And thank you, Daddy Bruno."

I had truly become their daughter.

*********