The Day Mommy Brought Her Bulls Home

The crib rail stayed down all day.

I never left the mattress.

Mom had dressed me for the occasion before dawn: a sheer white babydoll that ended just below my caged clit, no panties, only a thick, swollen overnight diaper printed with tiny pastel hearts and the words Mommy’s Little Girl across the landing zone. The inflatable plug from last night had been swapped for a remote-controlled prostate destroyer (thick, curved, with a bulb that pressed permanently against my gland and a tail that poked obscenely through the diaper’s leg band like a puppy’s tail). My nipples were clamped with delicate silver bells that jingled when I breathed. Clear gloss coated my lips. My hair (now shoulder-length from months of secret vitamins) was in high pigtails tied with pink satin.

Mom stood at the foot of the crib in a crimson silk robe that barely contained her milk-heavy breasts, nipples already leaking through the fabric. Haley knelt beside her in black lace lingerie, holding the phone on a gimbal, red light steady.

“Today’s a very special day, princess,” Mom purred, voice low and hypnotic. “Mommy’s friends are coming over. Big, strong Black daddies who heard all about her pretty little white sissy with the greedy pussy. They’ve been very patient.”

My stomach flipped. The prostate toy pulsed once (a warning).

The doorbell rang three times (deep, commanding chimes).

Mom kissed my forehead. “Be a good girl and greet your new daddies properly.”

She didn’t carry me this time. She made me crawl.

On hands and knees, diaper sagging, bells jingling, plug tail wagging, I waddled down the hallway while Haley filmed from behind. Mom opened the door.

Three men filled the frame.

Daddy Marcus (six-foot-seven, ex-linebacker build, dark skin gleaming under the porch light, wearing only grey sweatpants that did nothing to hide the thick, half-hard outline snaking down his thigh).

Daddy Tyrone (taller, leaner, dreads tied back, gold chain glinting against his chest, basketball shorts tented obscenely).

Daddy Leon (broad, bearded, tattooed arms, jeans unbuttoned just enough to show the root of something monstrous).

They stepped inside, eyes locking on me immediately.

“God damn,” Marcus rumbled, voice like thunder. “That’s the little snowbunny you been trainin’?”

Mom smiled, proud. “Say hello, baby girl.”

I knelt in the foyer, forehead to the floor, ass high, diaper soaked and bulging. The plug tail wagged with every tremble.

“H-hello, Daddies,” I whimpered, voice cracking. “Thank you for coming to breed Mommy’s sissy.”

Tyrone laughed, low and dark. “Look at that arch. Pussy already beggin’.”

Mom led them to the living room (now rearranged into a breeding den: thick mats on the floor, mirrors on every wall, cameras in every corner). She laid me on my back in the center, legs in the air like a baby getting changed. Haley peeled the diaper open slowly, revealing the locked cage, the swollen plug tail, the glistening, gaping hole.

The men stripped.

Three massive Black cocks sprang free (thick, veined, heavy, already leaking). Marcus was the longest (eleven inches, straight, cruel curve). Tyrone the thickest (beer-can girth, foreskin half-pulled back). Leon the heaviest (balls like oranges swinging low).

Mom knelt beside my head, cradling it in her lap, milk dripping onto my face.

“Watch, princess,” she whispered. “Watch your new daddies claim what’s theirs.”

Marcus went first.

He lubed his cock with one hand, the other spreading my cheeks. Mom removed the plug with a wet pop. My hole gaped (pink, slick, ruined). He pressed the head against it (hot, blunt, impossible).

“Breathe, baby,” Mom soothed, voice hypnotic. “Open your pussy for Daddy.”

I did.

He sank in (slow, relentless, inch by inch) until his hips met my ass and I felt him in my throat. My cage leaked a steady stream. The bells on my nipples jingled with every sob.

Tyrone and Leon watched, stroking themselves, while Marcus began to move (long, deep strokes that dragged over my prostate like fire). Mom fed me her nipple, milk flooding my mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Good girl,” she crooned. “Take Daddy’s cock. Let him ruin your pussy. This is what you were made for.”

I came in under a minute (a violent, prostate-only orgasm that left me screaming around her tit, clear fluid jetting from the cage in thick ropes). Marcus didn’t stop. He fucked me through it, then past it, until I came again (harder, messier, my hole clenching around him like a vice).

They rotated.

Tyrone took my pussy next (so thick my rim burned white-hot). Leon fed me his cock at the same time (balls on my chin, throat bulging). Mom and Haley took turns on my nipples and cage, licking, pinching, whispering filth.

Hours blurred.

Positions shifted: on my side, legs over Marcus’s shoulders; on all fours, Leon in my throat while Tyrone reamed me from behind; on my back again, Mom riding my face while all three took turns breeding my hole (no condom, no mercy, just load after thick load pumped deep).

By evening my pussy was a wrecked, cum-filled sleeve (gaping wide, leaking rivers of seed down my thighs). The diaper was long gone. They’d plugged me with Leon’s cock for the final round, knotting me like a bitch in heat while I sobbed and squirted and thanked them in broken baby talk.

Mom finally called time, kissing each Daddy goodbye at the door, promising “same time next week.”

They left me on the mat (belly swollen with cum, hole locked open by a new black king plug with a diamond crown), diaper taped back on, soaked through with their seed and mine.

Mom cradled me in the crib, nipple in my mouth, fingers gently circling the plug’s base.

“Shh, princess,” she whispered, milk flowing slow and steady. “You did so good for your daddies. Next time we’ll invite more.”

The plug pulsed once (deep, possessive).

My ruined pussy clenched around it, grateful, and leaked me into oblivion.