I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up next–all I knew what that I hurt. Every part of my body hurt, but especially my throat and my ass. A moment later, the door to the room where I was banged open, and my father stomped in–but it wasn’t the father I remembered, or at least the one I thought I should remember.
The lights were out, and all I could make out of him was his silhouette–but it was massive. Six feet tall and a few inches, broad of shoulder and broader of gut, but with plenty of muscle packs into his chest and arms–I should know after all, since anytime I did something daddy didn’t approve of, I’d get a backhand across the jaw, at least. “Alright cunt,” he said with a snarl, and flipped on the light, “Have a good nap? Get the fuck ready–we got clients in fifteen minutes.”
“B-But…dad, I…” I stammered, but even as I spoke, I realized I should have known better. Daddy stomped over to me and gave me a solid smack, hard enough to make my teeth shake a bit. I’d…I’d been really good lately, he hadn’t knocked a tooth out of my head in almost a year, and I wasn’t going to start making him do that to me again. If I lost many more…he said he’d just pull them all out. The clients would pay more for a toothless whoremouth anyway, as he called it.
“Did you say something, cunt?”
“No daddy.”
“Didn’t fucking think so,” he said, and spit on my face, “Now clean up and put yer makeup on. These country fucks were promised a pretty city faggot, and that’s what yer gonna give ‘em, right?”
I nodded, and my daddy stormed back out the room, slamming the door behind him. The room…it had changed since the last time I’d woken up, mostly with the addition of a small vanity against the wall, which I made my way over to, sat down at, and looked at my face–my new face. I was…small. So fucking small, and chubby, with two soft breasts and a hairless body. I still had some makeup on from my earlier clients, but I went back in and touched myself up, a little blush, a little lipstick, a little shadow. The roughnecks out here…daddy found it easier for them to pay if I was more feminine. I found the pair of panties I’d been wearing earlier, which one john had tore off me eventually, and tucked my puny, two inch dicklet in the front, thankful my daddy still hadn’t followed through on that promise. If I didn’t have a few regulars who liked sucking on the puny thing, he probably would have cut it off years ago.
I was trying to fight it. I was trying as hard as I could, but this one–the change was so much larger than the last, and somehow that made it even more real. My daddy–as soon as he’d realized I was a little faggot, he’d started whoring me out–at home, around the city. He’d made a deal with my uncle to work out of the cabin a couple weeks a year, to give the roughnecks and truckers around here a shot at my faggot holes…and I hated them. I hated these weeks so much, they were so much rougher, so much dirtier…but it meant I got to see my uncle too, if he had the cash for my dad…and that almost made it worthwhile.
I got back up on the bed, sitting there, waiting. I heard daddy talking to some other gruff voiced stranger outside my door, and a second later it opened, and an old man entered, a leer plastered on his face, skin tight and wrinkled from years in the son-and then he was on me, licking me, tasting me, forcing me over onto my belly, ass up, and he was inside my tight hole–my forever tight hole. Men loved it–they came from miles around for a chance at it. Tighter than any pussy, and I wouldn’t mind if…if it didn’t hurt, every time. Every time it felt like my guts were being split apart, but I craved it all the same, because…because I liked it.
Deep down, my daddy was right–he’d always known me better than I’d ever known myself. I was a whore, I wanted cock, all day and night, and I wanted it rough. I fucking deserved it. My little dicklet had tented out my panties while the roughneck pistoned into me, and after a minute he gave a groan and came deep, filling my guts up, and as soon as he was out of the room, another one came right in after him.
Truckers, farmers, old fat fucks and young bucks–I took them all. It lasted hours, and my ass was leaking cum by the end of it, makeup smeared on my face again. I’d cum twice–once when some old biker had come in and made me eat out his ass while he jacked off. I…it was so fucking humiliating, that it turned me on, and he wanted to see me blow my load, he wanted to see my little clit while I chewed on his hole. The other time was some old farmer, maybe seventy, with a ten inch dick that worked like he was twenty. He hammered my guts so hard that I was spewing in my panties before I even realized it, begging him for more while he grunted and groaned, on the edge of a heart attack, probably–but he lived. I lived. I was so…tired by the end of it. Tired and humiliated, and…and wanting more, as much as I hated admitting it, but no one else came in, until my dad opened up the door.
Alright slut–that’s all for the evening, but my bro bought an hour with you.”
My heart skipped, but I didn’t dare show it–if my dad knew how much I liked seeing my uncle–and how much he liked seeing me, he’d probably double the price. I looked over and saw my uncle step into the room, closing the door behind him, and he smiled at me…and when I saw him, I remembered. I remembered, and through the desire, all I really felt was terror.
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