Spamton Talk

"Rip my ass apart, Daddy! Fuck the shit out of me! God, yes!" "So fucking tight, Jenny. No matter how many times I fuck your ass, it's always like the first time... Are you being good for daddy? Keeping other dicks out of this perfect ass?" "Yes, Daddy. Only yours," she moaned... ### Plunge into a filthy taboo erotica collection where daddies (step daddies, daddies-in-law, and other forbidden fruit) crave and claim their teasing little girls in raw, boundary shattering steamy shorts. Loaded with intense dirty talk, dubious consent edges, high risk exposure thrills, possessive breeding kinks, degradation and humiliation, and scorching incest. Please take care of your mental health. It gets dark and twisted in here... ### A conflicted step daddy wrecks his stepdaughter's holes on his marital bed while his wife lurks nearby. A blind step daughter is tricked into fucking daddy. A daddy fucks his step daughter on her wedding day... to his son. Billionaire daddies. Don daddies. A daddy that fucks his son's girlfriend... in front of his son. ### Indulge in these and other dark fantasies with twist endings that will stay with you. She begs for daddy's brutal cock. He can't stop stretching his filthy little girl. ***All characters are over 18. Explicit content ahead. 18+ only. Reader discretion is advised.

For a second he couldn't believe it, he stood there staring at her dumbfounded, his emotions went from anger to pain to anger again then back to pain. "Why?". His voice barely came out, he was afraid if it came out loud then it'd be as a roar. "What's your excuse for all this?". "I....I don't want to live anymore, I'm tired". She cried. "I've been tired for a long time now Raysham". Unable to control himself he grabbed her shoulder and backed her against the counter so there was no gap between them. "That is not an excuse!". He almost yelled. "That is not a fucking excuse!". She said nothing, just sobbed and sniffled quietly. "You are a coward Sayya, you lost faith in us, in yourself, Sayya you gave up on everything!". He said. Tears pricked his vision but he forced them back by blinking. "Yes you have been through a lot but you had absolutely no right to do that, you should have spoken to someone, if you hated me so much that you couldn't talk to me then you should have at least told Hytham!". He said. "My life isn't worth living Raysham, you know it!". She cried. "I don't know! All I know is that in months to come I will sit alone and grieve knowing you did this to us, I will grieve knowing you caused the pain". He said.

"Who the fuck is this? Speak and stop stalling!" "This is…this is doctor Smith, sir." He stuttered, unable to swallow the fear oozing out. "I couldn't reach you on your other line, so I…" ~~~~~~~ "I've ordered for everyone present to taste the stale smell of prison for two months." "What?!" ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ "You dare ruin my nose? How dare you stand in my face?!" "I've tolerated you enough, doctor Magnus." "You have?" He scoffed. "Just because I refused to suck your finger dick doesn't give you the damn right to talk trash about me!" A gasp erupted from the mouths of the onlookers. The doctor glanced around the crowd now forming in groups as they chattered away indistinctively. "You're fired this minute!" "No, doctor Magnus, I quit!" ~~~~~~~ "No." "Sir?" "Didn't you hear me? I said no!" "No… to what exactly, sir?" "My son does not need such a kidney!" ~~~~~~~~ "Feed me first before I die of starvation from that pussy, Syntia!" Syntia gaped, freezing on the spot as Kelvin lowered his head and sucked her bare neck so hard that a groan erupted from her mouth. ~~~~~~ A wealthy toddler who attends an Elite Daycare fights for his life when his billionaire Daddy demands his health back. He says he wants an exquisite rebranding__will he find one? How will his decision affect his heir?

She lowered her eyes, not being able to look directly into the eyes of his crush. Matthew however no longer felt embarrassed and in fact lifted Martha’s face by her chin and implanted a deep kiss on Martha’s glossy lips. The kiss lasted for not more than 10 seconds and it was Martha who had backed out of it. As quickly as she withdrew herself from the kiss, she made quick steps towards the encampment and after a few steps, she stopped and turned behind to Matthew “Let’s get back to the encampment or other might get worried” As she lost the sight of Matthew after turning back and walking towards the encampment, a smile made its way on Martha’s lips since deep inside, she was melting like a hot chocolate by remembering the tender way in which Matthew had lifted her chin and kissed her. On the contrary, Matthew panicked as he believed he made a mistake by kissing Martha without her consent. He quickly followed up with Martha when they were just a few meters away from the camp, fearing if she would blurt out everything in front of others. He couldn’t even muster up the courage to talk to her and chose to leave everything on fate. They reached the camping venue, much to Matthew’s surprise; Martha acted very normally in front of everyone but constantly avoided taking a look at him, let alone talking to him.

“What do you want, Aria?” I swallow hard, my palms sweaty. “I need to talk to you. About... us.” His look doesn’t alter, and for a second, I worry if he’s just going to walk away again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he straightens up, his gaze never leaving mine. “There is no ‘us,’ Aria,” he replies, his voice flat and cold. I feel a knot building in my throat, but I go forward. “You felt it, didn’t you? The tie between us. You can’t refute it.” He approaches closer, and for a minute, I think I see something flicker in his eyes, something that nearly seems like sorrow. But it’s gone as swiftly as it appeared. “You’re not my mate, Aria,” he replies, his voice tightening. “Don’t fool yourself.” The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I take a step back, my vision fading as the weight of his rejection slams over me. My heart feels like it’s being pulled apart, piece by piece. How can he say that? How can he deny what’s so painfully clear to me? “Damian, I...” I whispered, but he cut me off, his voice colder than ever. “I don’t want you, Aria. You mean nothing to me.” And with that, he turns and goes away, leaving me standing there, crushed.

The company had just taken off when a project my wife, Lenora Peterson, was in charge of ran into trouble. To ease her mind during her pregnancy, I went overseas in her stead, spending ten perilous years abroad before finally returning home, barely alive. Instead of the joyful reunion I had imagined, she greeted me with cold detachment and thinly veiled disgust. "Why are you back?" Lenora asked. "Today is Nathan’s housewarming party," she added. "Let’s head there first—we’ll talk later." We rode in silence the entire way. When we arrived, a ten-year-old girl came dashing over and clung to Lenora affectionately. “Mommy, why did you take so long? Daddy’s been waiting for you forever!” Daddy? My eyes burned with rage—until I saw my old friend Nathan Grant stepping out to greet us with a smile. "Lily, come to Daddy. Mommy’s tired—don’t bother her now." When I met Lenora’s eyes, the guilt I saw there told me everything I needed to know. I turned away and texted my assistant, Morgan Williamson, to begin acquiring the company that, by right, had always belonged to me. He soon reported back. "Mr. Brooke, the acquisition process will be completed in three days."

Samson Carroll's father, who is the CEO of Carroll Group, is hospitalized, and my sister decides to return to the hospital to work as a nurse. She throws herself into the role—donating blood, helping with emergencies, and keeping watch at his bedside around the clock. Soon, everyone's calling her a hero in scrubs. One night, she blocks the hospital room's security camera. She plans to kill the patient and forge a will so that Samson will marry her. I tell her it's too dangerous. The Carrolls are an influential family with deep pockets and powerful connections, after all. A few kind words and a forged will aren't enough to sway them. But she lashes out at me, calling me an idiot. She says that everyone in Jansbury knows Samson does whatever his father tells him to do. I drag her home, still trying to talk sense into her. "The Carroll family has ties to both the authorities and the underworld. They're untouchable," I explain. "If Samson finds out you lied to him, the consequences are unimaginable." Halfway home, she grows increasingly agitated. "Tonight was my only chance, and you ruined it! You're just jealous I'm about to become a rich man's wife! Go to hell!" Then, in a fit of rage, she shoves me into an open manhole by the side of the road. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I brought her dinner at the hospital.

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

One night of passion with Carl Grey, her supposed uncle, led Renee Lacey down a path of eight years of misery. On the day she decided to end it all, holding her daughter's ashes, Carl was throwing a big party for his ex-girlfriend's son. Talk about adding insult to injury. But life had a surprise in store. Renee got a do-over, and this time, she's not pulling any punches. Carl's going to learn that karma's a real piece of work. Last time around, when Renee tried to explain things, Carl shut her down, accusing her of drugging him for a hookup. Well, not anymore. This time, she's cutting him loose in front of everyone. Remember when Carl's ex stole Renee's work and he called Renee a green-eyed monster? Now, Renee's going to leave them both in the dust and grab that award herself. And let's not forget how Carl always took his ex's side when Renee was blamed for stuff she didn't do. This time, Renee's giving as good as she gets. Poor Carl. He always thought Renee would stick around, no matter what. But when she finally walks out without so much as a "see ya," his world falls apart. Now look at Mr. High-and-Mighty, all teary-eyed and desperate: "Renee, don't go. Can't I come with you?"

Yvanna Summer dreamed of marrying a billionaire as it was the only way she could think of she could be of help to her deprived family. Indeed she married one, Norman Paul dela Vega, who inherited his grandfather's multi-billion corporation. She endured her ruthless and cold-hearted mother-in-law and busy husband. Living with Norman for the past seven years, Yvanna kept her mouth shut despite the unfair treatment she received from everyone in the mansion. One morning, Norman came home from his one-week election campaign and handed her a duly signed divorce agreement. His reason? Yvanna failed to do her job being his wife. But that was not the case for her. She knew deep inside, that she was the wife material for every man. "Five million dollars for those who can give me the exact address of my wife's whereabouts!" He announced with conviction in the middle of his press conference. "Another five million dollars for those who can bring her to me alive and unscratched." Norman found her, wearing an elegant evening gown, and was the most gorgeous woman who joined the festival pageant. Without wasting a second of his time, Norman bought her flowering offer worth ten million dollars, in exchange, SAVING THE LAST DANCE for him. They got the chance to talk and claimed her to be his wife. Unfortunately, Yvanna remembers nothing about him. What would Norman do in this kind of situation?