Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Subject: Paid time off

Massimo,

Great work on the [redacted] project. We appreciate the hard work. I want to encourage you to get some rest, so I am giving you a long weekend to use up some of your accrued PTO. 

Due to company policy, you will not be permitted to log work hours during this time.

See you Tuesday.

Best, 

Lars Perkins

Lars sat back in his desk chair and blew out a long breath. He was a workaholic as much as the next corporate drone, a habit that had only gotten worse after he'd joined upper management, but Massimo had done something like six days of work in an afternoon, some of which wasn’t supposed to be approved to work on until next week.

It was, some might think, suspicious. And if Lars nipped it in the bud now, he could swipe it under the rug before he was forced to do an internal investigation that would at worst result in termination, and at best limit his access to files and strain working relationships between middle and upper management.

Lars would have to have an off record talk with him on Tuesday, and he messaged his assistant to schedule an off site lunch meeting which was going to, unfortunately, fuck up the rest of his work week. 

He pressed his knuckles into his masseter, hoping to stave off a migraine, pausing when his phone buzzed. Only his immediate family could bypass work mode, so he checked to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.

Brit

Lars’ eye twitched, and he pressed his knuckles into his cheek harder. 

His daughter was going to be the death of him, he was sure. She’d totaled her brand new Mercedes a few days prior, so he’d decided he couldn’t trust her to go to Cabo on spring break and broke the news that she’d be interning for him at the company instead and grounded until further notice.

She’d been giving him the silent treatment ever since.

Lars opened the message.

It was a video.

Britney Perkins lost her virginity on the night of her first gangbang.

It was a bit out of character for the devout Christian teenager who’d gone to purity events and the annual purity ball with her father for as long as she could remember, promising to remain a virgin before she even knew what a virgin was. As she got older, though, she grew more certain that that was the correct path for her, and that her father had her best interest at heart.

Her father was protective, but he trusted his daughter, so when she’d asked to go to Cabo with her friends in the spring, he’d said yes.

Then, he’d turned into a fucking prison warden.

All she did was smash her Mercedes! It was just a car! And her dad was like, hella rich! He could afford ten Mercedes…or something, she wasn’t that great with money. Or math. She just knew her card didn’t have a limit.

So when her dad grounded her and turned into a fucking control freak, she’d gone the route of the silent treatment.

It was hard on both of them.

Britney hadn’t realized just how much she and her dad corresponded throughout the day. They were besties. She’d refused to break first, though, and it paid off—her dad caved and said she could go to Boone’s Halloween party.

So there she was, in her cute as fuck angel costume, doing shots and taking selfies with her fellow cheerleaders and flirting with certified beefcake Aaron Miller. He was dressed as some classic rock icon or something—they all kind of looked the same to her—and she was pretty sure it was an excuse to wear as little clothing as possible. She wasn’t one to judge, since that was pretty much everyone’s goal that night, but she was pretty sure that classic rock stars were all devil worshippers—at least that’s what the pastor had said—and would be steering clear of the jock if she weren’t so pissed at her dad and a little loosey goosey from the tequila—ugh, now she was sad about Cabo again.

“Wanna dance, angel?” asked Aaron.

Normally, the answer would be a big fat ‘NO!’ because Aaron Miller was a handsy fucker and Daddy wasn’t there to protect her virtue, but for some reason, Britney felt like tonight was different.

No one seemed to notice—except for one exceptionally well-endowed futa drag queen dressed as Cher from Clueless—the little girl roaming around the party, beautiful and impish with adorable little pigtails and a knowing smirk, sowing mayhem amongst the teenagers, feeding off of the hedonistic vitality that was unique to human teenagers.

“Sure,” Britney agreed, and Aaron grabbed her hand and took her out on the dance floor.

Things got a little hazy after that, due in no small part to the lust demon among them. So where she’d normally bat Aaron’s hands away when they traveled out of bounds, tonight she just giggled and gave half-hearted protests. And when he buried his face in her neck and pressed wet, sucking kisses to her skin, and when his hands slid from her waist to her ass…she allowed it, tilting her head to allow for better access, and even allowing him to guide one of her legs up to wrap around his hip so she could feel the press of his erection through his skin-tight jeans on her mound.

Aaron licked between her breasts where her tanktop dipped, nudging it down just a tad until it revealed her lacy, sexy yet virginal bra.

“Aaron!” she gasped, finally finding the presence of mind to tug at his teased out rocker hair, but instead of pulling away, he bit into the swell of her breast and she let out a choked moan, surprised by the brand new sensation.

Was this…sex? Was this the precursor to it? It already felt so good, and she was at a crowded house party with an audience of sweaty dancers in Halloween costumes. And now that she wasn’t facing Aaron but letting him ravage her décolletage, she noticed that she wasn’t actually the only one getting frisky with someone on the dance floor, but…she wondered if she was the only virgin.

And that question, plus a bit of demonic magic in the air, had her yanking Aaron’s head up hard enough that it broke the spell he was under, some of the lust-drunk look leaving his eyes and leaving behind regular-drunk. “Huh?” 

Instead of answering, Britney grabbed him by the belt—there was no way she’d get her hands in the waistband of those skinny jeans; if she knew anything about male anatomy, she would be shocked he could even get an erection—and tugged him over to the couch on the far side of the room, pushing him down and climbing on top of him, pressing their lips together.

It was her third time kissing—not counting the kisses she’d shared with her family, most often her Daddy, but he almost never used tongue—and it was wet and frenetic, the angel and the rocker grinding against each other, hands groping. Any shyness or reluctance Britney might normally feel was replaced with hedonism, the source of which was a desperate ache that needed to be filled.

Aaron tore off his cropped muscle shirt, literally grabbed the center and yanked the fabric apart. 

Britney’s mouth watered when Aaron’s muscular teenage body was revealed, taking initiative for the second time by curving her spine so that she could latch her teeth onto one of the boy’s sensitive nipples framed by pronounced pectorals.

“Ah, fuuuuuck,” Aaron groaned, head falling back on the couch. He’d never had a chick go at his nipples like that—didn’t only girls have sensitive nipples?—and his cock hurt where it was caged by distressed denim. Frantically, he reached for his fly, unzipping and letting his meat get some air. 

Since it was out anyway, he grabbed Britney’s hand and directed it to his cock.

Britney gasped at the foreign sensation and pulled back to look down. It was difficult to see, the room already dimly lit and the appendage sheltered by their two bodies, but her hand made up for the missing sense, closing around the shaft and sliding up and down slowly.

“Yeah, baby, fuckin jerk that cock,” Aaron encouraged through gritted teeth, moving her hand faster, guiding it with his own.

Britney was a natural, and her hand started moving at a steady rhythm, then she went back to sucking on his nipples, alternating between them.

Aaron’s cock, already a bit sore from being trapped in his pants, was starting to chafe from the dry handjob, but he was afraid to interrupt, worried that Britney would remember she was a prude.

Just as he was thinking about sneakily spitting on it, something strange happened—his cock started leaking. Not normal prejizz, either, but like…a steady stream of cum, slowly coating Britney’s hand and making the glide on his dick smoother than any lube. And the handjob went from just a handjob to the best goddamn sex of his life—and they were just getting started.

Aaron hadn’t noticed the little girl who’d leaned over his shoulder, observed the handjob and nipple play with clinical interest, then released a pulse of magic, increasing the pleasure for the two.

Which was why, when Britney noticed the slipperiness on her hand, she lifted it to her mouth, her pink tongue peeking out to give her finger a kitten lick. She’d loved the flavor so much, her lids fluttered shut and her eyes rolled back as she had a spontaneous orgasm, untouched, while she sucked on her fingers like they were a tasty treat.

Britney and Aaron were bracketed by people on both sides—talking, flirting, making out—but more and more eyes drifted towards them, the heat ratcheting up in the room, but no one yet joining in.

Spurred on by the taste of Aaron’s jizz and the desire for more, Britney slid from his lap and onto the floor, taking the average sized penis in her mouth to the hilt with the ease of a professional.

Aaron was merely along for the ride, delighting in the sensation of being worshipped by such an enthusiastic lover.

Britney Perkins, he thought. Who would have known?

It was while she was consuming this nectar that she had the brilliant idea to commemorate the occasion where she lost her virginity, pulling her phone from the pocket of her miniskirt and handing it to the person on the couch with the camera app open, asking through gestures and expression more than words when she said, with Aaron’s cock still in her mouth, “Mrrff mff mrff-ee-ooo?”

The couple who’d been grinding while watching them agreed enthusiastically, and the girl used her own phone to get an alternate angle while her boyfriend used Britney’s phone to get a wider shot, then did a handoff to one of the onlookers who had a better vantage point.

It really was a group effort.

And it was Britney’s newly awakened enthusiasm for public sex—and a not-insignificant dose of demonic sex magic permeating the air—that had almost every other person in their vicinity reaching into each others underwear to relieve some of the mounting tension…and what had Britney pulling aside her panties and mounting Aaron.

“Fuck yeah,” Aaron grunted when his five inches fucked into Britney. It didn’t take long for him to decide that Britney Perkins had some top tier pussy, and she was a natural at riding cock, bouncing up and down like it was her cheer choreo.

Aaron Miller was going to go down in history for being the one to pop Britney Perkins’ virginity. He’d already gotten a few hand slaps and nods from dudes around the room.

What was surprising is that none of the girls were acting disgusted or jealous—at least not in the mean girl way. Some of them looked like they wanted to be her—or be with her.

Britney had never considered lesbianism before. It always sounded like something mythical. Like it didn’t really exist, and when it happened, it was fantasy, like when girls kissed at parties on dares for the boys watching them.

That belief would be changing very soon for Britney.

“Take pictures and videos!” Britney announced to the room, using her Cheer Voice and megawatt smile. “But you have to send them to me. Actually, send them to this number—are you ready?” A few of the girls on the squad almost yelled ‘okay!’ in response.

The guy who’d been using Britney’s phone to record sent the first video to the number she’d given them. 

On her phone, the contact assigned said Daddy.

Lars raced to Boone’s house with one hand on the wheel and the other on his cock, furiously jerking it to the sight of his daughter riding some jock’s cock, the video playing on his phone mounted on the console.

Lars was livid. He felt betrayed. His daughter had promised to be a virgin until marriage, and the way she was riding the boy’s dick, he doubted she’d been a virgin before tonight. She looked like a whore! And now there was so much evidence, so many witnesses, there was no way this wasn’t going to get back to their pastor. Christ, her mother. Her mother was going to have a heart attack. She was going to have to refill her Xanax prescription, and he’d only just gotten her off the shit after a two month stay at a ten thousand dollar a week ‘resort.’

“Goddamn it!” Lars growled as he came, nearly plowing down a group of trick or treaters, the parents chaperoning turning around to scream at him, one of them taking down his license plate number. He yelled, “Fuck you!” though it didn’t have the same effect since his windows were all up and he was already taking the corner on two wheels.

More videos popped up. This time, a guy had come up with his cock out, and she turned her head to give him a blowie without losing rhythm on the first dude. Then, a girl from her squad entered the frame and said, “Come on, Brit, I know you’re hiding an amazing bod—I’ve rubbed one out in the showers watching you a few times.”

On screen, Britney paused blowing the guy to turn to her friend and say, with genuine surprise, “Really? Why?”

“Um, because I’m bisexual and you’re sexy as fuck?”

Britney looked shocked, and as Lars continued jerking his still-hard cock, he felt proud that at least she wasn’t going to— “Fuck!” he screamed, cumming again when the girl leaned in and they started making out while she stripped her of her clothes. “Fucking dyke!” 

When his daughter’s tits bounced free, he nutted again, making a mess on his pants.

Why couldn't he have been cursed with an ugly daughter, he wondered. He just had to be gifted with bimbo sluts for a wife and daughter, her body just as voluptuous as her mom’s had been at that age.

Lars was too busy cumming again to notice when a blurry figure entered the screen, shorter than the rest. For some reason, the camera couldn’t solidify her image.

“Britney,” the little girl purred in her ear. 

She was still on Aaron’s cock, reverse cowgirl now, with cocks in each hand and making out with her squadmate.

“Mm?” she asked without breaking the dirty tongue kiss.

“Put these back on,” the girl said, not waiting for her assent before she somehow put the angel wings back on her and slipped the headband holding her halo back on her head. “There you go, pretty girl.” Britney felt a smaller mouth on her neck, then nipping her ear. She whispered, “Give them hell.” Then reached around and stroked her clit.

Britney cried out in astonishment as a spray of pussy juice erupted from her snatch, soaking Aaron and her squadmate, the guys she was jerking off only getting a few droplets on their legs.

At the same time, Aaron Miller came in her cunt, his cock swelling within her. No, literally, his cock grew. Of course, no one realized it, not even Aaron himself, he just knew he’d just blown the best nut of his life. And he would need very little refractory time. 

Cheers erupted from the crowd surrounding her.

Chapter Text

Lars Perkins drove up on Boone’s front lawn, taking out a row of hedges and denting the front quarter panel of his car on a water fixture. He was too horny—uh, angry and concerned for his daughter’s wellbeing—to think about the irony of damaging his own car through reckless driving.

“Bruh, who brought their dad?” someone asked, bent over the railing and getting rammed from behind by their big-dicked sibling who they’d never had a single sexual thought about.

“Dunno, but he’s kinda a unit,” they replied before splooging in their sibling’s fertile womb without a condom.

By the time Lars got to the living room, Britney was bent over the couch. She was only on her fifth load of the night, and there were enough fluffers there to keep the crowd peaceful, but tonight, the star of the show really was their favorite newly-deflowered cheerleader Britney Perkins.

That was why, when Lars Perkins stormed into the circle around Britney, he was intercepted almost immediately. 

“Yo, dude, wait your turn!”

“She’s my daughter!” Lars growled, trying to shake off the football player. Lars had more mass that came with age but he lacked the level of rigorous training the teenager had, and once his friend grabbed a hold of his other side, there was no chance.

The other jock said, “Does that mean he has, like…dibs?”

The two deliberated for a moment while Lars struggled. None of them seemed particularly bothered by the fact that all three of them had their erect members out, resulting in incidental contact.

Britney gasped, eyes widening, hands going to her bountiful tits out of reflex. “Dad?” she shrieked.

Lars, who’d scarcely taken his eyes off of her, set his face into a stern frown, though his arms were held back, so his chest jutted out proudly along with his daddycock. “Britney! Stop taking all these teenagers’ loads! You’re going to get pregnant, and God doesn’t allow abortions!” 

“Damn, I didn’t think about that,” one of the guys who was getting serviced by his homie’s girlfriend while he waited patiently on the couch for his turn at Britney’s cunt. “What are you going to name it if it’s yours?”

His other homie was plowing their homie’s girlfriend, pulling out anytime he got too close. “I dunno, man.” He hit the spliff again and passed it off. “Maybe something like…I dunno, Lars.”

Lars’ lip curled. “Absolutely not.”

“Daddy, you’re not the boss of me anymore,” Britney announced. 

While she was distracted, a second guy came up beside her and picked her up off the ground, leaning his ass on the couch and impaling her on his cunt.

She looked at her dad over the stud’s shoulder. “I’m a woman now, and I’m a sex goddess! No man gets to tell me how to live my life anymore—you or God.”

Lars gasped, knees buckling so the guys had to hold him up. “Sacrilege!”

A boy came up behind her and started prodding at her back entrance. Britney was about to protest when suddenly, her asshole became an erogenous zone on par with her clitorus, and she shuddered and came, eyes still locked on her dad’s. As she squirted on the buff dude pistoning his hips into her, her father squirted, too, on the floor in front of him.

Lars, like most fathers, had wanted to fuck his daughter for a long time. 

Unfortunately, the powers at play had other plans.

“Daddy, why are boys allowed to have sex before marriage but girls aren’t?” Britney asked, eyes big and imploring.

Lars was saved from giving an answer when the guy prodding at her ass—which had miraculously begun to self-lubricate—slammed his cock inside of her to the hilt, his balls plapping against the guy’s taking her pussy.

“Bro, ball brothers,” the dude said, holding out a fist.

“Nice,” the guy who’d taken her anal virginity said, and they pounded fists while they pounded Britney Perkins.

Britney shuddered and shook through what had to be her thirtieth orgasm so far.

“I just want you to get into heaven!” Lars cried, still from the other side of the couch and surrounded by the gangbang-turned-orgy attendees.

“If this is going to get me sent to hell, I’m pretty sure I’m going to like it there,” Britney replied, though every other word was punctuated by a moan or her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Oh, God,” Lars said. “She’s possessed.”

He wasn’t entirely off base.

A kid with froufrou hair and glittery eyeliner crawled over to Lars and began to suck his cock.

Lars shrieked. “Homosexual! I’m not one of you!” 

“Bro, it’s not gay if it’s an orgy,” one of the guys holding him said, then he released Lars and angled his dick towards the pretty boy. “Here, man. You can have mine.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” the boy purred, batting long, mascaraed lashes up at the teen.

For a moment, Lars regretted his decision. He was reminded of his goal, however, when his daughter screeched as she came again. Simultaneously, the boys double teaming her emptied inside of her sloppy holes.

Britney—rather, the new Britney who’d been touched by sex magic, though she’d always been a bit of a menace; one only had to look at her poor Mercedes—had a look of pure evil on her face when she sat down on the couch with her knees hooked under her elbows and said, “Bring my dad over here.”

A couple of dudes grabbed Lars and frogmarched him over to his daughter. Seamlessly, as if they’d planned it, they forced him down onto his knees in front of his daughter. Confused, he was forming a protest when his hair was grabbed and he was forced face first into his daughter’s snatch.

“Drink their cum, Daddy!” she cried.

Lars fought it at first. For at least three seconds. Then, he was licking and slurping and sucking at his daughter’s used cunt and asshole, swallowing the seed of countless teenage boys. He tried to stop, a voice in his head screaming that this was sick—more the semen eating and less the incest, though if asked, he’d deny it—-but it was like he couldn’t control his own body.

No one batted an eye at the incest. Everyone in attendance would be permanently altered, never having the same discernment when it came to matters of the flesh.

Inside Lars' illegally parked car, his phone buzzed with countless pictures and videos of him eating his daughter’s cunt from multiple angles, hard cock out and leaking precum on the floor, clothes covered in—what only he knew was—his own jizz.

“Strip him!” Britney commanded.

Lars, who hadn’t been given the okay to stop eating her cunt, could only stare up at her in horror. His face was still being smashed in her pussy by a hand on his head while someone else tore his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, and ripped the seat of his pants and underwear wide enough that his whole ass was hanging out.

“We have a new fluffer!” Britney announced gleefully. “Anyone who jizzes anywhere in or on him gets unlimited blowjobs from me next week!”

More cheers.

The sex demon disguised as a little girl had been watching the scene unfold with amusement, absorbing the feast she’d created for herself. Sex always felt good, but there was certainly a different quality in, say, missionary between spouses versus deflowering a Good Christian Girl during a gangbang.

The little sex demon couldn’t take credit for the rest—she’d only hoped that Britney’s father would show—though her essence was irresistible, even through a screen.

She was proud of Britney Perkins' transformation. She would continue to be a menace to society.

The sex demon decided to give the Perkinses one more gift that evening.

Lars was flipped on his back, and a man dropped his testicles into his mouth and ordered him to suck while he frantically jerked his cock, jizzing all over his chest and documenting it with his phone so he could send the proof to Britney for free unlimited blowjobs.

The demon stood beside Lars, pressing her shoe into his exposed cock and balls. “This,” she announced, looking into his eyes. “—is a clit now. And this—” She dragged the toes of her shoe over his hole. “This is a pussy. You are a submissive slut and a willing sex slave.”

She watched the man’s face turn from confusion to horror to bliss and, finally, acceptance.

And Lars began his lifelong mission to be the world’s least discerning cumdump.

Lars’ asshole began to self-lubricate, and it stretched around the teenager raping him just like a pussy would. “Damn, this ass is nice.”

Lars mumbled a ‘thank you’ around the cock thrusting into his throatpussy. His clit, which appeared to be half the size it was when he’d entered the building, leaked every time the boy’s cock hit his G-spot. 

“Dude, let me get in on that,” a guy said. The first guy was about to pull out, but he said, “Nah, you’re good.” Then, he slid under Lars, lifting the older man like it was nothing. Then, he pressed his cock inside his hole along with his friend’s, making Lars scream out in a mix of ecstasy and pain.

All of these boys were unusually well-hung.

As Britney Perkins took her fortieth load that night—this time a chest glaze to match her father’s—outside, the world descended into a chaos much less enjoyable than Britney’s Halloween Gangbang.