Bad Girl in Charge

I don’t know how everything got so crazy. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, a win-win for everybody involved. The way our lives had been before—my wife and mine—had gotten so dull. We weren’t old enough for that to have happened. My wife, Vicki, was twenty-seven and still had a cheerleader’s body—big tits and all. I was six years older than her, but still California Dude hot: slim, well-shaped, and well-tanned with longish blond hair.

*We both might as well have been fat and over forty.*

It seemed like it was Vicki’s fault, if anyone’s. Or maybe it was how she’d been raised. She was sexually boring; she never really even got into plain vanilla marital sex. Whatever made her like that, I’d suggested bringing in Cherry into our home to spice things up a bit.

*You wanted spice, you got it.*

At the moment, Vicki and I knelt side by side in the middle of our king-sized bed. She and I were both dressed in her lingerie and done up with heavy makeup. Sitting on both sides of the bed were six shemales in their later teens to mid-twenties. And sitting cross-legged at the foot of the mattress—facing Vicki and me—was Cherry.

*Nineteen and going on twenty-nine. How did she get like this?*

“Doesn’t Georgina make a sexy girl?” Cherry asked her friends.

“Haven’t you done enough already?” I whined as they all agreed.

“Judging by your lack of enthusiasm… I’d say not even close. Besides, it’s Vicki’s turn to be in charge,” Cherry said.

I watched my bride blush a mention of her name, but she didn’t shy away when Cherry scooted in front of her. If anything, she looked hopefully at the transsexual teenager. Vicki’s lips parted ever so subtly, as if she were inviting another kiss from our shemale foster kid. They had been fucking right in front of me for two days now.

“You know how he’s been treating you is wrong,” Cherry asked Vicki. “No woman should have to put up with a domineering man… or a sexually pushy one… or a guy who doesn’t get her off.”

My wife nodded. Cherry reached out and squeezed her hand. Vicki smiled with more certainty. Ever so subtly she leaned toward the nineteen-year-old redheaded shemale. Cherry closed the distance and kissed my bride on the lips. Vicki kissed back more firmly and they were soon deep kissing. To my dismay, the sight of them French kissing got my cock hard in the red see-thru panties.

Cherry broke the kiss and took Vicki’s head in her hands, looked into her eyes. “Remember… this is about helping him, right? How else will he learn his place if we don’t teach him this lesson?”

“Okay,” Vicki said. “You’re right. I’ll do it… to help him.”

“That’s my girl!” Cherry addressed me. “On your hands and knees, Georgina. Face the headboard.”

Tears of humiliation streaked my face as I complied, yet my dick still tented the diaphanous nylon. I watched as Cherry helped Vicki put on the dildo harness and clip on a thick, ten-inch lifelike latex cock. Then she took her knife and cut a hole in the panties around my asshole. At the word from their leader, the youngish shemales lined up on both sides of my face, stroking their dicks into large erections.

*This is really going to happen. Not just Cherry but all these too. Will all their cum taste the same?*

I sighed as Cherry’s lubed finger snaked through my cut panties and glommed onto my asshole. Expertly she massaged the naughty little ring of anal muscle until she easily slipped a finger up inside me. I groaned in deep pleasure as she slid it deep inside me.

“See, Vicki?” the young tranny said. “He enjoys it! Believe me, he will love you for this!”

I felt my wife come up behind me, between my spread knees. She giggled as she told all this was her first time wearing a strap-on. I felt Cherry feeding my wife’s dildo into place, lightly pushing into my butthole. I whined with eager frustration.

“Is there anything you want to ask your wife, Georgina?” Cherry cooed. “She needs to hear you ask for it out loud.”

I took a deep breath, unable to believe I was about to beg for this from my wife—especially in front of seven outsiders. “I—I… I w-want y-you to…”

“I think he needs to beg for it, Cherr,” said Diana, a tall black shemale. She was the TS closest to my lips on my right side. She was rubbing the fat head of her enormous cock against my cheek and the right side of my mouth. It was sticky with precum.

“Good idea, Diana! Beg!” our “foster daughter” declared. Her gaze grew frosty as she saw the hesitation in my eyes. “Do I gotta remind you of everything I have on you?”

“Please fuck me, Vicki!” I blurted out in a paroxysm of fear. Cherry was capable of making my life hell over and over.

“Do it, Vicki!” Cherry urged. “If you don’t, then when all this is over you’ll go right back to being his underling.” She got a crafty look in her eyes. “He might even fuck your sister again.”

*Don’t remind her of* that\*!\*

I cried out as my wife jammed the dildo up my ass. The ring of anal muscle burned with pain for a moment as the thick latex cock plowed deep up into my rectal chute. It started to feel good. My cock got rock hard and my balls throbbed with total pleasure. I moaned with delight.

That was when Diana slipped her huge black cock between my lips. I felt my wife tease my boner through my panties as she fucked my ass. Then Cherry began filming it with her phone. And there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it.

\*\*\*

When George and I got married three years ago, he wrote “love, honor and obey” into my wedding vows. My bridesmaids all said that was archaic and misogynist and stuff, but that was kind of how I was raised. My father ruled our household, and I saw that my mom kept to her place. He didn’t beat her; he didn’t have to. She was also raised in that kind of a home. You could say I was from a long line of cowed and submissive women. My mother was never taught how to stand up for herself, so how could she have taught me?

I sometimes think that was why George married me: he saw a woman he could dominate. I wasn’t about to complain; I didn’t know any better. In a way it was comforting to let him tell me what to do all the time. There were only two real problems.

First was the greenhouse next to the garage. George was growing two dozen huge pot plants. If this was California it wouldn’t be such a big deal, but we lived east of downtown Las Vegas. The Nevada laws about marijuana were serious, but George just laughed it off. We could lose our house, but he wouldn’t listen to reason.

The other big problem was sex.

The problem is he’s a man and so many of them are weak about certain things. Any woman can tell you that, especially when it comes to sex. Men can’t help themselves, and sometimes it makes them stupid—like the time my sister and I got drunk one night, and George fucked her after I had passed out.

He used to read all these sex magazines and stories and watch videos—things I’d never heard of. He liked trying new stuff but I never really liked it. To be honest, even plain old sex was kind of like a chore. I used to wonder what the big fuss was all about. Why do guys want so much sex when it wasn’t such a big deal?

Eventually I learned that it wasn’t my fault: George was just a selfish lover who didn’t even think to find out if I had an orgasm, much less try to give me one. When I had my first real good cum, then I knew why everyone was always going on about sex! It took Cherry to teach me what I had been missing.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

It all started three months ago over a Saturday brunch in our kitchen dining nook. That was when George first suggested we take on a foster child. He barely met my eyes when he made the suggestion, so I figured out real quick it wasn’t about being charitable. Not that I would ever think of questioning him. I told him it sounded nice.

“We gotta get the right kid,” he said. “Someone who nobody else wants to take in.” He wet his lips. “I was thinking of… you know, one of those transgenders.”

“You mean a boy who wants to be a girl?” I asked. I thought of the news stories about suicide, drug addiction and controversy.

“That’s right, baby.”

“That’s… I don’t know.” I knew better than to contradict him when he had that tone of voice. He’d already made up his mind. I must have had a “look” on my face when I said it, because his mood started to turn right away.

“Jee-sus, Vicki,” he grumbled. “Try to have a little charity.”

Now I’d done it. “I didn’t say ‘no,’ darling. If you think so…”

Now he was practically pouting. At least I had headed off an argument complete with him yelling and maybe throwing stuff. But he’d be sour for half the day, prone to pick an escalating fight.

You know what you have to do, Vicki…

I knelt on the floor in front of his chair, between his man-spread legs and looked up into his eyes with as much submission and lust as I knew how to play-act. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I cooed. “Let me make it all better.” Then I unzipped him and took out his cock.

*Thank god it’s only five inches long.*

George groaned as my lips slid over his cock. It always tasted so ugly and sour, but I made out like it was the greatest treat ever. He breathlessly told me what a sexy slut I was—and if I would only do what he said to do then everything would all be okay.

Then his voice changed. “But you always have to spoil it, don’t you, Vicki? I come up with an idea for something nice…” Then he pulled his cock out of my mouth. “Over the kitchen counter.”

Wordlessly I pulled off the terrycloth hotpants he’d told me to buy and stepped out of the skimpy thong he’d picked for me out of a catalog. I spread my legs wide and leaned over the sturdy, clean Formica counter where he’d fucked me many times. He snatched the butter dish off the kitchen table, and within seconds his greasy finger was probing my anus. By now I’d learned how to relax.

*It will be over soon.*

\* \* \*

My wife has the most perfectly-shaped ass. It’s a pleasure to fuck either her pussy or her asshole from behind just to admire those big, round, satiny cheeks. Fucking her face-to-face was just as good; her creamy firm and bouncy 38D tits, flat belly and hourglass figure made me realize I was fucking a potential centerfold.

*Not that the inhibited bimbo would ever have the guts.*

Nope, Vicki was pretty much a virgin when I married her and she was about as sexually adventurous as a tween girl scout. It had taken three years to get her to suck my cock properly—lots of coaxing and griping—and she only recently learned to relax enough to take it up the ass. It was good when she finally learned how to do it, though—her butthole was super tight!

I grunted as I slipped by tube steak up her backdoor, giddy at how tight the rectal muscles clamped down on my throbbing manhood. It wouldn’t be long before I shot my jizz up into her tight ass. It was too bad I’d peed before I got to the kitchen table; I would have done it right after I nutted. She might even cum.

I read about that one in *Hustler*. One of these days I’d surprise her an do it. What would she do about it?

*Not a damn thing!*

I cursed to myself. As much fun as this was, I didn’t really have the time today. It was all her fault I had to do this. If she had just gone along with my idea without any backtalk, I’d be finishing my breakfast and getting into my car to drive to the foster agency.

It really was a brilliant idea. These older teenage trannies were always horny and a lot of them turned tricks. I’d pick us one that was seventeen and super sexy, then I’d bribe her with money and booze and pot—maybe let her drive the car once in a while—and I would be able to live out the fantasy I’d had for several years.

I knew from Hustler and other magazines that those shemales are always horny and all they want is to be the girl—to suck dick and get fucked all the time—and I wouldn’t have to coax her like Vicki… Vicki! Maybe I can talk Vicki into letting the shemale fuck her while she gives me head!

*Oh, the possibilities!*

I could feel Vicki squeezing my fucktool with her asshole muscles. Fuck, it felt so good! I figure she was just doing that to make me cum faster so I’d pull out sooner and leave her to go flush her ass out. I knew she was only putting up with it.

*Sooner or later she’ll start to like it.*

I felt my balls clench and I rammed all the way into my wife as I felt my hot jizz pumping deep up into her poop chute. I grunted and groaned as the deep ache in my balls rushed up my cockshaft in a rippling tingle as the last of my spurt filled her up.

I wiped my dick on the tail of her blouse before I stuffed it back in my pants. I didn’t want to miss the orientation at the foster child agency; it was my first step on the path to become a foster parent to a hot, young, sex-starved shemale.

But first I had to go check on the pot plants. The buds were getting ripe and it was soon going to be time to change the lighting. I’d gotten almost four pounds from the last harvest. This time would be five pounds at least. Twenty grand, easy!

With the extra money I could bribe my new little shemale to do all kinds of exciting things. And maybe she’d have some friends she could invite over. My dick got hard at the thought of the orgies we could have. Maybe take some of that pot money profit and shoot some hot shemale porn.

It would take about a month, but soon we’d have our own shemale foster daughter—hopefully a well-hung one.

*This might be just what Vicki needs!*

\*\*\*

It was a Friday afternoon, and I sat in my dormitory room, waiting for the social worker to come get me: Cherry Lester, ward of the state. I’d actually turned eighteen a year and a half ago, but thanks to a clever document forger, all of my records said I was barely seventeen. My name was also an invention. It kept my long and checkered past from catching up with me. And when I did land in trouble I only got sent to juvie hall and then a group home.

I hoped that if I was assigned the right foster parents I’ll be free of this place and back to having fun like only a minor can have—with few consequences!

Some might say I’m too old for my age, but when you run away from fucked up parents at sixteen—three years ago—and you end up doing whatever you have to for survival… how can that not mess with your attitude? If you’re smart you learn how the system works and then you learn how to work it. Otherwise it works you.

One of the most important things I learned is how to spot predators, and I saw Mr. George Jensen coming from a mile away.

George was posing as a do-gooder who wanted to help out a transgender kid, but I can spot a tranniechaser—trans “amorous” I guess—from a mile away. He wouldn’t be the first one to foster me with the aim of having his own little shemale sex machine at home.

*All you need is one good piece of leverage*, I reminded myself.

Mrs. Clouster, the social worker in charge of my case, knocked on my door. “Your new foster parents are here, Miss Lester.”

Two minutes later I’m sitting in her office with the Jensens, Vicki and George. I’d met them both several times before they’d been approved to take me. Each time I got the clear impression that he was the dominant one and that she had submitted to this idea of his. I also got the feeling she not only harbored a deep resentment but that there was also a lusty, red-blooded woman under the cowed wife exterior. And George was totally a tranniechaser.

*This is going to be easy.*

There were some final documents to sign and then I was turned over to their official custody. I was halfway to freedom. They walked me and my suitcase of stuff out to their car—a new Charger—obviously his car—and that was when George confirmed my suspicions. He turned to me with a big smile, holding the keys.

“Got a driver’s license?” he asked almost smugly.

*First potential bribe: driving his muscle car.*

“Er, no, Mr. Jensen. I never go around to it.”

He threw a fatherly arm over my shoulder, brushing against my hormone-grown tits. “You can call me George… Or Dad.”

*I bet he makes his first move this afternoon.*

Okay... Dad.”

“How about this—I’ll teach you to drive. Sound good?”

I have him my sweet bimbo smile. “Sure, Dad. I’d love it!”

He opened the passenger door and gestured to me. “Here.”

“But what about… Mom?”

“She’ll be fine in the back seat, won’t you, Vicki?”

*You fucker. Your own wife. I can’t wait to get started!*

“No, no—you ride up front, honey,” Vicki said, blushing.

The horny bastard checked me out in the rear view mirror all the way home. As we drove there I was more and more pleased to see the neighborhoods keep getting better and better until we got near the Vegas Palms country club and golf course. All of a sudden I realized the reason for how fast the adoption went through. Then I knew I’d hit the jackpot—rich people pay to keep secrets!

My new home turned out to be a two-level new house just off the golf course. It must have cost George a couple million. He was near panting with lust as he showed me my new room: huge with a queen bed. The closet was stuffed with sexy girl’s clothes in my size. George was sure he had it all figured out. He was in for a surprise!

From my open bedroom window I saw a large shed with blacked-out windows. I could smell the pungent growing marijuana. I had him!

No sooner had he got me checked in then he sent Vicki to the store for groceries, to make sure she didn’t forget anything. He was sending her away, essentially. It was happening even sooner than I thought.

This first time would be crucial, when I’d make him think I was under his control. In reality, this was the start for him! This afternoon I’d give it up freely, get him hooked on me. The next time, he’d pay.

He watched through the curtains as Vicki drove off, then he turned to me with a big smile. “Would you like something to drink, Cherry? You can have anything you want, honey.”

I got coy. “Can I get… a margarita?” I asked like I expected a no.

He beamed like a trucker about to fuck a brothel whore. “Sure!”

He poured three times the normal amount of tequila. He couldn’t know that I had a good tolerance for liquor, so I decided to act drunk and uninhibited. I’m sure that was his plan.

I’d changed into a mini skirt and a loose, low cut top with no bra and transparent panties that my eight inches barely fit in. I sat rather close to him as I steadily polished off the cocktail. His eyes went from my 36B chest—thank you hormones!—to the bulge in my skirt. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet. This would be so easy!

I wet my freshly painted lips with my tongue so they glistened and gave him this glazed-eyes look I had practiced for years. “I’m so happy you and Vicki saved me from that awful group home. Grateful.” I carefully controlled the slurring in my voice so I didn’t seem too drunk. “I… I love you… Daddy.” I slightly parted my lips.

It worked. He softly kissed my lips and when he started to pull away, I followed him up, still kissing. Then I shoved my tongue in.

\*\*\*

I was already halfway hard when I’d sat down on the sofa with Cherry. I got dizzy with lust when she opened her glistening lips and called me “Daddy” and said she loved me. But when she stuck her hot, thick tongue into my mouth, I went fully hard. My tongue slid against and caressed hers.

*Damn, she’s hot. This trans slut has got more sex drive than any other woman alive! Now I have her in my home! Let’s take it slow…*

I placed my hand on her thigh, she moved it until it was on top of her throbbing dick. She moaned loudly in my mouth. It was then I knew that my dreams of finding a young, horny shemale had come true. She wanted sex, wanted a daddy, and she wanted me.

She broke our kiss. “Oh, Daddy,” she breathed, “I really want to suck your hard cock right now!”

She knelt down on the carpet in front of me, spread my knees and got in between. I watched with amazement as she unbuttoned my shorts, unzipped the crotch and pulled out my dick. She smiled lustily.

I had been a little worried she’d think it was too small. I’ve always been kind of insecure about my five-inch whang, but Vicki never complained—as if she would dare to—and I could fuck really good. So when Cherry made hungry mewling noises and lowered her lips around it, I knew she wasn’t disappointed.

I groaned deeply as the hot, moist cave closed in on my pulsing fucktool. Her tongue slithered up and down the shaft as she applied suction—the greatest blowjob I ever had! She whimpered and sighed in satisfaction like a little kid sucking a coveted lollipop, adding to the excitement. Then she pushed her lips down hard, taking the head of my dick into her throat, and she began swallowing.

“Oh, holy fuck, baby!” I cried. I’d had dozens of prostitutes in my life—at least 50—and none had ever come close to Cherry’s blowjob.

*Shit, I could make a lot of money with this girl!*

Then I couldn’t think of anything clearly after that because she started bobbing up and down—from where just the tip was between her lips to it being in her throat—sucking and licking and teasing until my balls began to ache like they were going to explode. The way Cherry gently caressed and squeezed my balls made it even better.

“Oh, that’s so good, baby Cherry,” I groaned. “You’re going to make Daddy cum real soon. Do you want it in your mouth?”

She slowly, sexily pulled away from my pulsating dick, which oozed clear precum in a ropy string. She looked up into my eyes with uncontrollable desire. “Please fuck me, Daddy,” she whined like a girl begging for an ice cream treat. “Please fuck me real good!”

Burning with lust I picked her up and set her on her knees. I quickly unbuttoned her skirt down the side, please it pulled away. I took a second to marvel and her round, soft asscheeks—as sexy as any woman’s. Her panties were totally transparent, so I could see the smooth, milky skin, the deep cleft that ran from her tailbone to deep between though luscious buttcheeks. I stripped them off.

I parted her knees and gazed upon the perfect asshole: a delicate swirl of brownish-pink muscle set in the soft triangle of her anal cleft from where the crack of her ass ended. It looked perfect and, though it was clean, it seemed so nasty-dirty. Suddenly I had to.

I deeply inhaled the musky aroma of her sissyhole: slightly fragrant of sweat and the sweet scent of her ass. It looked as beautiful as any girl’s. Before I could think about it, I spread her satiny butt pillows and planted my tongue on her secret, sexy hole.

She moaned in ecstasy. “Oh, fuck my asshole with your tongue, Daddy! Get it all slippery for your big, hard dick!”

Spurring by her dirty talk and the sexiness of licking her forbidden spot, I forced my tongue in as far as I could, making her cry and whimper with lust, and rewarding me with a stronger acrid-sweet taste that made my dick throb. I was as horny as I’d ever been.

*I’d suck her cock if she asked me… Oh, god, could I do that? Yes, I could and would go down on big clitty!*

I reached under and encircled her fat, long tool. She was as hung as I’d even seen in any locker room. I gave it a stroke and felt a big glob of seminal fluid running down her cock and onto my hands. The feel of her throbbing cock in my hand, the slippery precum made me shove my tongue even deeper into her ass.

“I can’t take it anymore! Fuck my tranny cunt, Daddy!”

I stripped off my clothes. I took my saliva covered rod and touched it to her butthole, making her moan and beg. I grunted with pleasure as my cockhead pushed through the tight ring of flesh and into her hot, tight, deepness. We both cried out in pleasure.

“Oh, Cherry, baby, you have such a tight pussy! Oh, I love you so much,” I moaned as I picked up the tempo. I knew I wouldn’t last long, but that would be a good thing—she’d want to do it more. She’d be after me to fuck her again and again!

“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me!” she cried.

Her anal muscles gripped my thrusting meat, sending blasts of erotic electricity down into my balls and every limb of my body. The feeling of her plump, shapely ass pounding into my thighs, the sight of her face turned to the side and contorted with ecstasy drove me over the edge. I felt my balls swell and the sweet explosion of my orgasm.

“I’m cumming, baby! Daddy’s cumming!”

“Pump my ass full of your hot jizz, Daddy!” she moaned, shoving her butt back to meet my meaty jabs. “Baby wants your cum!”

I gasped as the ache in my nuts turned into a flood erupting the length of my tool and spurting deep into the hot, tight, grasping ass of this sexy young tranny slut. I’d hit the fucking jackpot!

I pulled her up with me onto the sofa and tongue-raped her mouth, but she was still panting so heavily that she had to pull back.

“Whoa—Daddy!” she breathed, looking at me with adoring eyes.

She tucked her head against my chest. I tingled with sexual pleasure as her red hair spilled across my body. She made soft mewling noises like a cat, mixed with sighs of deep satisfaction, as if she’d waited for that for a long time. She said that she loved me.

I had reached down and begun stroking her head when the door open and Vicki came in carrying a grocery bag. She stopped dead in her tracks with a loud gasp. For a moment I actually felt a bit guilty and could not say anything. Then Cherry picked up her head and smiled at my startled, pretty wife.

“Hi Vicki!” Cherry said brightly. “I’m so sorry we surprised you like this.” She kissed my cheek. “It’s not George’s fault, really. I guess I kind of lured him into it.” She winked at Vicki. “He is a man after all. We know what that means, right?”

To my wife’s credit, she seemed to recover somewhat. She unsteadily set the grocery bag down on the table and lowered herself into a chair, still staring at myself and our foster daughter’s nudity and obvious post-sex demeanor. “I… uh… yes, I suppose so,” she replied.

I was grateful to my new shemale lover for taking the blame and putting Vicki on the defensive. Now was the time to take advantage of my wife’s confusion and uncertainty. I sat up beside Cherry and took her hand and looked Vicki in the eyes, completely confident despite my total nudity and my sitting beside freshly-fucked Cherry.

“Vicki, you heard her. Yes, I gave in but it really was her idea. And she’s far closer to eighteen than seventeen. And I’m not sorry I did it.” I looked at Vicki. “Are you sorry, honey?”

“No way, Daddy!” Then she giggled. “I mean, ‘George.’”

“See, baby?” I said to my wife.

“But…” Vicki struggled to get out a reply that seemed oppositional to me. “I… isn’t… isn’t it… illegal?”

“I’ll never tell,” I said with a big smile.

“Me neither! I wouldn’t spoil a good thing,” Cherry added.

“See?” I replied. “We’re just one big, happy family. And so let’s just enjoy each other.” I looked slyly at Cherry, the back to Vicki. “You know, darling… Cherry here was just saying how sexy she thinks you are.”

“I do, Vicki!”

Vicki looked uncomfortable. “Oh. I… thank you, I guess.”

“And since she really wants to get to know you like she just did with me, I think you should really… you know, do it.” I gave her a sharp look to let her know I wasn’t asking.

Vicki turned bright red. “George… I… I can’t!”

“You can and you will,” I growled.

Just then Cherry leapt up and pulled on her transparent panties, stuffing in her half-hard eight inches. “Why don’t you let us talk, Daddy?” she suggested, tying her skirt back on. “Just us girls.” Before I could say anything else, she grabbed my wife’s hand and led her out of the living room and into the hallway toward the bedrooms.

I watched them go and for a moment regretted I wasn’t going to get to watch them do it. Not this first time anyway. I shrugged and lit up a joint from my last harvest. It would be worth it to let Cherry be the dominant one right now. Vicki would see the light.

**Please let me know if you like it!**