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Lunsford Family Slut
(M/f, nc, humil, D/s, incest)
By William Drake
"William Drake" <mast_1945@hotmail.com>
"Steve Lunsford wants to see you."
Angela Behr looked up from her desk at her boss. That his eyes
weren't meeting hers was no surprise to her. They usually didn't. As
always, he was looking at her chest. It was a fact that she'd gotten used
to early in life. Her breasts had started to sprout early ... at the age of
eleven, in fact ... and they'd continued to grow until she'd been sixteen,
by which time her otherwise petite body supported a 38-C cup. Now, nine
years later, she'd slowly added another two inches, and she'd finally had to
go to a D-cup.
Naturally, she'd gotten a lot of attention from the boys in her
high school. She hadn't objected. Never having known her father, she had
no men in her life and she'd found the male attention to be ...
exhilirating. She'd lost her virginity at the age of fifteen to a senior
who was a starting guard on the school basketball team. She still
remembered lying there on the blanket he'd so considerately taken from the
car for her ... him kneeling between her spread, steepled legs ... the grin
on his face when he'd looked down at her spread out for him ... the fumbling
way he'd put the head of his rod against her virgin labia ... the sudden
twinge of pain when he'd driven himself home ...
He'd only lasted a half-dozen thrusts before his cum flooded her
vagina, but that was okay with her. After all, he'd said he loved her. And
she had convinced herself that she loved him.
He never called her after that night ... never even acknowledged
her in the hallways of the school. But her phone did begin ringing off the
hook. It seems that her young lover had informed all of his friends of his
conquest. For the next two years, she'd found herself being screwed by a
growing number of randy high school boys. One thing she'd insisted on,
however. Angela was a bright young girl, and after that first experience,
she'd insisted on them wearing rubbers.
Insisted, that is, until her own senior year and Tim. Tim was the
first guy to ask her to go steady with him. Even with him, the act of sex
hadn't been that big of a deal for her, but he enjoyed it tremendously, and
she was thrilled to have him use her body to bring him that much pleasure.
They'd even talked of marriage after graduation, so it hadn't bothered
either of them when she started missing her periods in the spring. She
hadn't even been showing when the ceremony was held. They'd found a cheap
apartment ... well, actually it was two rooms on the second floor of an old
house occupied by an elderly widow ... Tim had taken a job as a stock boy
at the local supermarket, and Angela had busied herself studying
bookkeeping. She'd always been highly intelligent, had graduated with a
3.85 GPA. and had loved working with figures. With help from his family,
something they expected to use only until she went to work after their baby
was born, the two of them had started out to make their lives together.
"I think he wanted to see you sometime this year."
Her boss's sarcasm shook Angela back to consciousness. It was
less than an hour until quitting time on a Friday afternoon. Best to get
whatever it was over with. She nodded perfunctorily at her supervisor and
left to take the elevator up to the executive level.
Lying alone in her bed at night, Angela often wondered how they
would have done if Timmy Junior had been normal. But he hadn't been. He'd
been born with Down's Syndrome ... a mongoloid. Angela had loved her child
with a passion she'd never known before. She'd resisted institutionalizing
him, especially after she'd seen the State home that her doctor had
suggested. It was dirty ... it smelled of urine and feces ... the staff
ignored the inmates, letting them sit unoccupied and drooling all day ...
Looking back now, she realized that she'd ignored her husband ...
had virtually shut him out of her life. Then, one day, he just hadn't come
home.
Angela had taken this job with the corporate headquarters of
Lunsford and placed young Timmy in a private care facility that did a
marvelous job. But it was expensive. Very expensive. She'd tried her best
to pay the bills, but ...
+ + + + +
"I'm sure he'll be with you soon, Ms. Behr. You know, he's very
busy."
Angela sat nervously in Lunsford's outer office. She'd had only
limited exposure to Lunsford in the three years she'd worked for his
company. He was a big man, a few inches over six feet tall, and naturally
burly. No one could call him handsome, but he did exude a quality of ... of
maleness ... that she found unsettling. The only time she had actually
talked to him had been at the last annual Christmas party he threw at his
palatial home. That he had made a pass at her hadn't surprised her.
Virtually every man she knew did that sooner or later. What had surprised
her was that he'd done it right in front of the woman he was engaged to, a
woman who it was rumored was a show girl he'd originally met in Las Vegas.
The tall, willowy blonde hadn't even blinked! For once, Angela had been too
stunned to refuse gracefully. In fact, her response had bordered on being
insolent. She had been worried over the next few weeks that he might use
his position to get back at her, but she'd not heard a word. Still ...
The way the receptionist kept looking at her and smiling in a
superior way wasn't helping. She tried not to pass the time wondering what
the executive vice-president of the company may have discovered about her
... tried to tell herself that he only wanted to compliment her on any of
the various improvements she'd made in the company's accounting procedures
... but it was a futile attempt. By the time a muted buzzer on the woman's
desk finally sounded, she practically jumped from the chair.
"He will see you now."
Angela took a deep breath and opened the door to Lunsford's
commodious office. Lunsford sat behind his desk, reading over a file,
failing to even acknowledge her presence. She stood before his desk nearly
a full minute, unwilling to sit down until he gave her permission.
"Zenith Office Supplies." He uttered the name with contempt, then
looked up at her. "Eagle Clothier. Kennedy Food Service!"
Angela'a stomach seemed to drop. These were the names of three of
the fictitious companies she'd charged company expenses to. She opened her
mouth to speak, then found she didn't know what to say. Lunsford picked up
the file, waved it between them, then slammed it down on his desk.
"How long did you think you could get away with it, you stupid
bitch?"
Tears filled the young woman's eyes. "Mr. Lunsford ... I can
explain. I wasn't stealing ... not really. I'm going to pay it back. It's
just that my son ..."
She stopped, uncertain of just how to explain the problems she had
faced ... unclear on how to beg for mercy ... understanding ... Lunsford
looked at her, disgust clearly written on his features. He got up and
strode around his desk to stand before her. Then he did what she least
expected. He drew a hand back and slapped her face so hard she staggered
back a step, seeing stars.
"I know all about your damn kid!" he growled. "Don't expect any
sympathy from me. I didn't knock you up with him. And you've stolen more
than $50,000. Just how in the hell do you think you're going to pay it
back? If you think you're going to whore yourself out for that much money,
you've got one hell of an inflated idea of what a chance to shove it up that
cheap cunt of yours is worth!"
"I ... I ..." The blow had stunned her emotionally as much as
physically. To be fired ... yes, that she could understand. But to be
actually physically assaulted! Her mind searched for words ... words that
would make him understand ... words that would make this all go away. It
found none.
Staring into his face through tear-stained eyes, she was surprised
to see him grinning at her.
"Take off your blouse," he ordered.
"Wha ... what?"
"I said take off your blouse, bitch," the man growled. "I've been
wanting to get a good look at those tits ever since you sneered at me for
offering to fuck you."
Angela froze, looking at him in shock. She couldn't believe she
had gotten into this position. Her divorce had soured her on men. For four
years she had endured their stares ... their semi-obscene utterances ...
She'd accepted dates, of course. But few of them, and even fewer men had
asked her out a second time. Most had acted as if the price of dinner and a
movie was immediate use of her body. The thought of actually allowing them
sexual access to her had been repugnant. Now this ... this man ... was
crudely demanding that she strip for him!
Lunsford reached out suddenly and grabbed her hand. He wrapped
his fingers around her thumb and bent it backwards. She yelped in pain and
her knees half-buckled.
"Now you listen to me, you cheap slut! In ten seconds I'm picking
up the phone and calling the cops. You're going to jail. You're going to
sit in that stinking jail for years. Do you know what prison will be like
for a cunt with your looks?" He bent her thumb back further, causing her to
howl in pain and fall all the way to her knees before him. Licking his
lips, he grinned down at the tortured expression on her face. "No more
spending your evenings and weekends at that ritzy joint you have your stupid
little retard in. No more reading books to him and playing dumb-ass little
games with him. This is the position you'll spend years in. On your
fucking knees ... eating prison guard cunt. They'll pass a nice, young
piece like you around like cake at a kid's birthday party." With a final,
agonizing wrench on her thumb, he released her, leaned his butt back on the
edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "And speaking of
kids, what do you think will happen to yours while you're doing your time?
He'll be in a stinking, state home, sitting there in his own shit!"
Angela massaged her poor thumb and looked up at the man who stood
over her. "Please," she begged piteously. "Please, don't ..."
"Take off your blouse," he ordered again, coldly.
Mechanically, hopelessly, her fingers went to the buttons of her
blouse, slowly opening them one by one. He watched as she drew it from the
waistband of her slacks and pulled it off over her shoulders. He grinned
down at her lewdly, his eyes devouring the white flesh bulging out over the
cups of her bra. Rather than verbally order her next move, he simply
gestured with one hand. Angela sighed deeply, reached behind her back, and
released the four catches that held the garment closed. She shrugged her
shoulders and let the garment drop to the floor in front of her.
She wasn't able to bring herself to raise her eyes to meet his as
he studied her massive breasts. She was ashamed of their size. She was
even more ashamed of the areole that surrounded her nipples ... dark
splotches as large in diameter as silver dollars. But staring at the front
of his suit slacks was hardly comforting. The bulge of his swelling manhood
was much too evident.
After a few moments, he leaned down. One hand wrapped itself
around one of her mammaries and squeezed.
"Oh yeah," he murmured. "That's quite a set you've got there,
baby. I'm really going to enjoy these." His fingers pinched down on the
nipple of the captured mound. He twisted it and stretched it out to the
side. "Have you enjoyed it, slut? Strutting yourself around in front of
all the men working here? Getting them all hot and hard looking at that
body of yours, then acting like you're way too good for them? How does it
feel?" he chuckled. "How does it feel to know you've got no choice ... that
you have to do whatever a man tells you to do?"
She didn't ... couldn't ... answer him. She simply whimpered as
his fingers probed ... explored ... tormented her. She wanted to beg, and
hated herself for the impulse, even as she knew that it would do her no
good.
"A man should have hours to use a body like yours. Unfortunately,
I have a meeting in twenty minutes."
For a moment, Angela hoped his words meant he was going to let her
off the hook. For a moment. Then he slowly unzipped the fly of his suit
pants. Folding his arms across his chest, he grinned down at her
expectantly. She knew what was expected of her. Hesitantly, she reached
one hand out and gently spread the opening wider. With the other, she
reached inside. Her next task was made easier by the fact that he wore
boxer shorts rather than jockeys. She fished around a few moments until she
found his male organ, then slowly drew it out. It hung there right in front
of her face. She hadn't seen a male penis in years ... not since Timmy had
left her. She couldn't help noticing that this one was larger than any of
the others she'd ever seen. Even half hard, hanging down loosely from his
open fly in front of her face, it was definitely thicker than Timmy's or any
of those her pre-marital teenage lovers had sported. The head was a deep
red and a purplish vein ran crookedly down the length of its top surface.
She also noticed a distinctly masculine scent to it.
In fact, Timmy's had been the only penis that she'd ever put her
mouth on. And even with her ex-husband, she'd only kissed it ... kissed the
underside softly ... mouthed it lightly in preparation for an act of
intercourse. She strongly expected now that this man intended something
totally different. Her mind flashed on a woman in her office ... a slightly
chubby but attractive female who was on her third husband. The woman
enjoyed regaling her co-workers with stories about her skill in orally
pleasing her men friends. The little bitch even claimed to enjoy performing
fellatio almost as much as having a man plow her belly.
"I haven't got all day, baby," Lunsford told her. "And you know
the alternative."
Sighing in resignation, Angela raised the snake-like organ with two
fingers, opened her mouth and closed her lips around its head. She heard
him make a contented sound and looked up at him. The way he was leering
down at her made her feel cheaper than ever. She knew what he saw ... a
half-naked woman, kneeling in front of him, her big tits hanging there as
she mouthed the same organ he regularly hung over a urinal!
"Show some enthusiasm, whore," he chuckled softly. "You're not very
good at it yet, but you'll learn. You're going to get plenty of practice!"
She told herself that it wasn't his criticism that prompted her ...
that it was strictly a desire to get this degradation over as soon as
possible ... but she found herself using her tongue along the sensitive
underside of his organ, her lips tightening down and increasing the pressure
on the rigid penis rammed in her mouth.
"That's better," he whispered. His hands grasped the sides of her
head, holding it in place as he shoved his hips forward, burying more than
half his length in her open maw. As he did, her breasts brushed across the
cloth of his trouser legs and she couldn't help noticing how rigidly hard
her nipples had become. Just the contact with the rough cloth sent a thrill
through her, no matter how she tried to deny it to herself. "Suck on it ...
blow me! We'll have time for all the little trimmings later!"
Angela shuddered at the thought of what the man meant by
'trimmings.' She shuddered, but she didn't stop what she was doing. It was
all she could do to struggle for breaths as he began fucking her face deeply
and hard. Each time he thrust himself into her gaping maw, her nose was
crushed against his hard, muscular belly. Tears formed in the corners of
her eyes, but the man orally raping her either couldn't have cared less, or
he actually enjoyed them.
"Oh ... yeah, you little bitch. Suck on it! Suck on my big, fat,
hard dick!" Steve Lunsford was thoroughly enjoying looking down at this
bitch ... this woman who'd once spurned his advance ... watching her
kneeling there at his feet ... her fat tits wobbling as he plunged his dick
in and out of the mouth so abjectly open and accepting ... her lips
stretched almost to whiteness by the width of his rampant organ ... "You
ready, cunt?" he growled menacingly. "You better be! You'd better swallow
every fucking drop or you'll be licking it up off the floor!"
His fingers wound themselves in her hair, yanking her face into his
pelvis. As his swinging balls bounced off her chin, he could hold back no
longer. He groaned out his pleasure as his thick fluid suddenly flooded her
oral cavity.
"Ohhhhh .... FUCK!!" he moaned as he rammed his dick so deep into
her wet, warm mouth that he felt as if he were shooting his gism straight
down into her stomach.
It felt the same to Angela. She'd never had a penis erupt in her
mouth before and she, not questioning that he'd carry through on his threat,
struggled to keep up with the gooey flow. She wanted to vomit, but was
terrified what punishment he'd mete out for that, so she swallowed, all the
time visualizing millions of his wriggling little sperms happily sliding
down her throat.
When he was done ... when his dick had twitched for the last time
... he left it to soak in the warmth of her mouth for a few moments longer.
Blinking her eyes, she looked up at him. Seeing his expression made her
wish she hadn't. He was looking at her as he'd regard a particularly
loathsome bug just before he stepped on it and crushed it. Finally, he
pulled her head back, allowing his cock to slip from between her lips. He
replaced his organ in his slacks, zipped them up and turned his back on her
to return to sit behind his desk.
"Be at my house tomorrow morning at 10:00. If you're there one
minute late, you'd best have your toothbrush packed. The cops will be by
your place by 10:30."
Stunned, Angela knelt there in front of his desk a moment longer.
There was something in his attitude ... something in the way that, having
used her, he could now simply ignore her presence, which was as demeaning as
his vicious, totally selfish use of her mouth as a receptacle for his scum
had been.
Finally, feeling like she should somehow disappear without
disturbing him further, she quietly replaced her clothing and slipped out of
his office. Lunsford's secretary said nothing as she left, but seemed to
gloat at her as she left, leaving her the impression that the woman knew
exactly what she had done, and that she thought of her as nothing but a
cheap little whore.
+ + + + +
Angela felt like she'd fallen into some alternate universe. Steve
Lunsford's behavior when she'd arrived at his place was nothing like what
she'd expected. Just what she'd expected ... whether it was to be thrown to
the floor and raped as she entered the house or not ... she wasn't sure.
But she hadn't expected to be met with cool politeness, shown into a large
sitting room, seated on a comfortable couch and given a glass of lemonade.
In addition, the room had a pair of sliding glass doors that overlooked a
large swimming pool, and a young girl lay by the water sunbathing. Lunsford
had gestured at the teenager and indicated that she was his daughter, then
had ignored her. Angela wondered about a teenage girl who had untied her
bikini bra to avoid getting a tan line with her father present, but she
realized that some families were different from her own.
As she'd done for a long time, she'd spent Friday evening at the
hospital where Timmy Junior stayed. She'd played games with him ... read to
him ... all the things she'd been doing since she'd had to institutionalize
the young boy. But her heart hadn't been in it. Even the friendly young
nurses had commented on her distraction. She'd been dreading this morning,
uncertain as to what it would bring. This morning she'd actually been
ashamed that she'd worried about what to wear, but she'd remembered reading
once that Marie Antoinette had fussed over the dress she'd worn to her own
be-heading. 'Just the nature of the human female,' she'd decided. But
she'd picked a skirt and blouse that looked good on her, nevertheless.
"You recognize, of course, that I can't keep you on in Bookeeping."
The statement brought the young woman back to the present. She
covered her confusion by taking a long sip from her drink. "You're firing
me?"
"From that job," Lunsford responded. He sat in a recliner facing
the couch, openly eyeing her legs. "But I intend to re-hire you. You know
I'm marrying Leanna next month. She'll need a social secretary ... someone
to take care of her ... see she's where she's supposed to be ... and on
time. She's a beautiful woman ... a walking man-toy ... but she'll be a
week late to her own fucking funeral." He looked down into his own glass as
he swirled it, then looked up at her, for the first time this morning
assessing her body as if it were something that belonged to him. As he
surveyed her tits ... her waist ... her legs, he licked his lips in
anticipation. "It's a full time job. You'll live here. Your pay will be
less than what you're making now, but your meals and rent will be free.
Your bedroom will be right down the hall from our own."
"I ... I ..." Angela was stunned. She'd thought she knew what to
expect when she arrived her. She'd expected Steve Lunsford, who no doubt
now had it in his power to totally control her, to take advantage of that.
Last evening, she'd faced the reality that she couldn't face going to prison
... that she couldn't consign her helpless son to a future as bleak as that
in a state run care facility. She'd told herself that it couldn't be much
worse than how she'd allowed so many boys to use her in high school. Lying
in bed after she'd returned from seeing Timmy Jr., she'd even visualized the
future in her mind and, as much as she'd told herself it was a sacrifice
she'd have to make for the child, a small part of her mind had perversely
anticipated that scenario.
Lunsford didn't seem inclined to hurry her response. Instead, he'd
risen and walked over to the sliding glass doors. He stood with his back to
her, evidently watching his young daughter still sunbathing by the pool.
"Mr. Lunsford, I can't ... I can't do that," she finally stammered.
Angela shook her head, more to try to get rid of a growing feeling of
lightheadedness than to re-inforce her refusal. She wasn't even certain why
she had refused his requirement. Maybe it was the thought of being
instantly available to this man twenty-four hours a day. Maybe the thought
of losing her freedom was more of a surprise than losing control of her own
sexuality. "And if you're married ... I mean, your wife ..."
"You let me worry about my wife," he said simply, his back still
turned to her. "She'll be my concern. Not yours."
"No!" The young woman was suddenly overcome with au urge to flee
... to run from this place ... to escape from not just this man but from her
whole life. But as she rose, the dizzyness got worse and she had to put one
hand back down on the couch to avoid falling altogether. When Lunsford
turned and saw her, he grinned. She didn't even see him move, yet there he
was, standing before her. He placed one hand between her breasts and pushed
lightly, tumbling back onto the couch. She looked down, seeing her skirt
had rucked up exposing more than half the length of her thighs, but felt
that she was detached ... looking down from a point near the ceiling at the
sexy, young woman sitting there before him. She wasn't even disturbed to
see him bend lower, place a hand on the woman's knee and slide it slowly
upward, gripping her thigh as he pushed the hem of the skirt higher. She
pursed her lips as she saw his fingers digging into the soft flesh. 'He
shouldn't be taking advantage of the poor girl,' she thought. 'She's not
well.'
"We figured you'd say something like that," the man said softly.
She even saw his smile ... a smile that seemed to speak pure evil. "And we
couldn't allow that to happen, now could we?"
For just a moment she wondered who the 'we' was that he'd started
that statement with. Then the room started to slowly twirl around her and
she shut her eyes to block the motion out.
+ + + + +
Her head hurt. That was the first thing she noticed. The second
thing was that she was cold. And the third was that she couldn't move. As
consciousness slowly returned, she began realizing the reasons for the last
two of those facts. She was cold because she was naked. And she couldn't
move because she was bound down. Specifically, she lay on her stomach on
some sort of padded stool, small enough it only supported her from her waist
to just below her tits. Her wrists had peen pulled behind her back and
bound to something overhead. Whatever it was, it stretched her arms high
enough that her shoulders were aching under the strain. A belt of some type
encircled her waist, holding her body down on the bench and preventing her
from trying to relieve the pressure by rising. Her knees were on the
concrete floor, spread apart and held in place by bands that wrapped around
them at the tops of her calves.
She shook her head to clear it, then wished she hadn't as the sudden
movement increased the dull pain to a sharp headache. It was only then, as
she thought to voice a protest, that she realized there was something in her
mouth ... something that felt like a large, rubber ball, held in place by a
strap around her head.
Angela looked around. She was no longer in the room she remembered.
This one, about twenty by twenty-four feet with walls of white painted
concrte blocks, looked more like a basement. She neither saw nor heard
anyone else. Unable to move, she stayed there, trying to clear her mind.
That Steve Lunsford had put something in her drink ... something that had
made her pass out ... was obvious. That he was therefore responsible for
her current position was equally clear. What she didn't understand was why.
'He must have known he had me where he wanted me ... that I couldn't
have really refused to do exactly what he said ... that I only refused
because he surprised me.' She felt tears welling up in her eyes. 'He
really didn't have to do this.'
Whatever was in her mouth, it was almost more uncomfortable than the
way her arms were bound. It only served to remind her what has occupied the
same orifice just yesterday. And that brought to mind something that she
hadn't really faced until now. Yesterday ... kneeling before the man ...
him using her mouth as if it were some kind of public hole ... yesterday
she'd felt something strange ... a feeling that what he'd done was his
right. She'd refused to examine that feeling further ... whether a part of
her felt it was his right because of what she had done ... because he knew
it and could use that knowledge to ruin her ... or simply because he was a
man ... someone with a penis ... She didn't know and she'd been unable to
bring herself to face that feeling until now.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. The headache was fading
now, leaving her to wonder what her immediate future might be. Never in her
life ... not even when Tim had left her ... had she ever felt so ... so
degraded. She was acutely aware of the way her bulky tits hung straight
down, as if pointing toward the concrete floor ... the way her naked ass
stood up so openly, her anal crevasse and her pussy so exposed to anyone who
cared to stand behind her studying them. But that wasn't the real reason
that the bound woman finally broke down and began to openly weep.
What caused that was the growing, degrading realization that she
really, really had the need to urinate!
+ + + + +
Angela had no idea how much time had passed. Her headache had faded
away, to be replaced by the increasingly painful ache in her shoulders. The
need to relieve her swollen bladder became more and more imperative, but she
couldn't bring herself to do that here. It seemed like hours before she
heard the sound of a door opening directly behind her. She tried to turn
her head, but found the way she was bound prohibited that movement.
Attempting it only sent sharp pains through her bound upper arms.
"Who ... who's there?" she whispered fearfully.
There was no answer. Instead, she heard the footsteps of someone
coming up behind her. Whoever it was stood there silently for the longest
time, making her even more acutely aware than she'd been before of the
nudity of her hindquarters ... of the way her pussy and asshole were on such
a blatantly, open display.
Finally, the intruder moved. As he came up on her left side, she
was hardly surprised to see it was Lunsford. He stood beside her, a coffee
cup in one hand, sipping as he looked down on her dispassionately.
She tried to talk ... to plead. Rationally, she didn't even know
what it was she was trying to say, but the ball-gag limited her to sounds
that were more like whimpering than words.
The man still didn't say anything. Instead, he reached behind him
for a wooden chair, moved it up beside her with its back to her, and sat
down facing her, his arms up on its back. For a long time he sat there,
staring at her. Then he reached out with the hand that didn't hold his
coffee and gently cupped her dangling breast. It was with some surprise
that Angela suddenly reralized that he was grateful that he was there ...
that she was no longer alone. It made no sense, and she knew that. If
there was anything to fear ... and she knew there was ... it was from this
man who sat there beside her. But she was still grateful that she was no
longer alone.
The hand fondling her breast was doing so gently, as a lover would.
Despite herself, she felt the orb responding. Her nipples had been hardened
by the cold, but the gentle stroking of his fingers swelled the left one now
as much as it had ever been by Tim's soft caressing. Thoughts of Tim caused
her to look down at the man's crotch, spread wide before her as he straddled
the open back of the chair. He was at least twenty-five years older than
her ex-husband had been when she'd married him, and, after their short
honeymoon, he'd never approached her for sex more often than twice a week.
It was less than twenty-four hours since he'd so brazenly used her mouth as
if it were a whore's pussy, but the way the crotch of his wash slacks bulged
told her that this man wasn't prepared to be as patient as the father of her
child had been.
"You shouldn't have told me no," he said, almost in a whisper. "You
knew you had no choice, but you attempted to refuse me anyway." Angela
shook her head, not even sure herself just what message she was trying to
convey ... that she couldn't have agreed ... that she regretted what she'd
said ... she simply wasn't certain. "No is a powerful word," he continued,
his fingers digging more deeply into her breast-flesh. :Maybe the most
powerful word in the language. It's the first word that infants learn ...
the way they express their individuality. It's a word you won't be able to
use anymore ... one you'll have to be trained never to say again."
His hand dropped her breast and he rose to walk across the room to a
large cabinet. Opening it, he took something out and returned to stand by
her head. Dangling from his hand was something she'd never seen before. It
looked like a whip with about twelve tails, but each was only about eighteen
inches long.
The bound young woman began shaking her head again, frantically this
time. She wished intensely that the gag wasn't in her mouth. She wanted
desperately to tell him that he didn't need to use it on her ... that she'd
do anything he said ... that she'd suck his cock again ... that she'd kiss
his feet ... that she's lick his hairy balls ... anything!
The businessman smiled down at her almost paternally. Then he moved
down to stand by her quivering, upraised ass. She felt the thongs of the
flogger resting lightly across her naked mounds. Angela began writhing
wildly. She tried to scream through the globular ball in her mouth ... to
beg with him ... to promise ... to plead. At that point, she couldn't
imagine anything she wouldn't do to avoid what she knew was coming.
Lunsford licked his lips. The sight of this beautiful ass ... so
white ... so helpless ... caused his cock to swell in his slacks even more.
Finally, when he sensed the trembling young woman had worked herself up to a
fever pitch of fear, he drew the thongs back ... and brought them down
across the helpless mound ... hard! Even through the ball gag, her squeal
of pain was nearly heart-rending. Smiling happily, he brought the flogger
back again.
Smack!
He paused for a moment, in part to admire the criss-crossing pink
welts that now decorated to shapely, white nates, in part to let her settle
down and fully appreciate the rest of her training.
"If I'd known you were busy, I wouldn't have bothered you."
Lunsford turned at the amused sound of his daughter's voice in the doorway.
The voice also attracted Angela's attention. Possibly because of
the pain she'd already experienced, she ignored the agony in her shoulders
enough to turn her head this time. What she saw shocked her almost as much
as her current predicament had. Lunsford's teenage daughter leaned up
against the doorjamb, her arms folded. But they were folded beneath her
bare, apple-sized breasts. The girl hadn't even put the top of her swimsuit
back on before seeking out her father! Why this sruck her so hard, given
what the older man was doing to her, she didn't understand, but it did.
And the expression on the youngster's face removed any thought she
might have had that discovery would save her from further torment. The
dark-haired girl was smiling ... smiling as she regarded the pattern of
welts on her poor ass!
"Beautiful," the teenager murmured. She stepped forward and dipped
one hand down, her cool fingers slowly tracing the pattern of marks on the
bound woman's ass. Angela shivered at the first touch of feminine fingers
on her poor, tormented behind. "I didn't mean to interrupt you, Daddy. If
you don't mind, I'll just stay and watch a little."
So saying, the dark-haired girl then unselfconsciously crossed to
the wall directly in front of Angela's face, leaned back against it, and
slipped a hand down the front of her bikini panties. The helpless woman
looked at her in total disbelief as the fingers started moving. This
little, teenage bitch was going to stand there in front of her ... in front
of her and her own father! ... and calmly masturbate herself as the man
whipped her!
Her attention was quickly diverted as Steve Lunsford snapped the
thongs of the flogger in across the tenderer backs of her thighs. Once
again he was treated to the sight of her writhing ... the sound of her
muffled cries.
The man's own attention was, however, divided. He was also watching
his daughter. Not that her self-stimulation was a surprise to him. Kaitlyn
had entertained him with such displays numerous times over the last two
years. It had started not long after she'd insisted on coming to live with
him. She had never gotten along with her mother, who'd insisted on having
custody of her primarily to get back at him. But when she'd discovered the
girl spying on her and one of her boyfriends in bed together, she'd agreed
to let the fourteen-year-old move back with him. It was on her third night
back home that he'd been awakened by the touch of her fingers gently
stroking his penis. Kaitlyn had slipped into his bed. Her sweet young lips
were on the side of his neck. As she'd softly caressed him, she'd whispered
that she hadn't wanted her presence in his house to mean he had to live the
life of a monk ... that she knew he'd need a woman ... that she loved him
dearly ...
Lunsford had never been particularly attracted to young girls, but
Kaitlyn was, even then, an especially beautiful child. He'd long noticed
that her breasts and hips were already surprisingly mature. On top of that,
he could hardly have missed the feel of her soft pubic bush pressed against
his hip. He'd lain there, enjoying the feel of her teenage fingers
exploring his organ, bringing it up to its full length and hardness. Once
they had, he put one arm around her, running his hand slowly down her back
until it grasped her round, fourteen-year-old ass. She'd groaned then,
moving up slightly to kiss him more ardently than many women twice her age
might, and kicked his covers off to watch own fingers manipulating him.
She'd seemed to grasp instinctively when she'd brought him to the edge,
grinning happily as she tightened her grip and sped up her movements to
cause him to erupt, spraying his gooey load all over her fingers, his own
belly, and the silken sheets.
Later, he'd held her in his arms, whispering words that fathers, no
matter how much they might want to, seldom addressed to their daughters ...
words of love. Still later that same night, he'd rolled her onto her back,
had kissed his way down her body, and shown her the passion that a man's
lips and tongue could evoke from a woman. Her orgasm had been all the more
intense for being the first that someone other than she herself had caused.
Since that night, they'd normally shared a bed. A few weeks later,
after preparing her extensively, he'd taken her virginity. And, over the
ensuing two years, his daughter had been the most apt pupil in the various
forms of sexual depravity that he'd ever encountered.
"Daddy?" Kaitlyn's voice drew her father back to the present. "Let
me take her gag out."
Steve Lunsford looked over at his daughter. She was smiling happily
to him. The two of them had shared submissive women in the past and he'd
long-ago learned that, while he enjoyed primarily the infliction of both
pain and humiliation, his little girl loved to hear them howl and beg and
plead. And his nod, she knelt quickly before the struggling, bound woman.
Pulling her hand from her bikini bottom, she carefully unfastened the belt
behind her head and pulled the ball gag from her mouth. Marcia coughed
hard, saliva drooling from her lips. Then she looked up at Kaitlyn, her
eyes betraying more confusion than accusation or resolve.
"Will you promise to be a good, little girl?" the teenager asked,
her finger under the woman's chin. "Will you lick my pussy when I ask you
to?"
Angela looked at her, her expression seeming to ask an otherwise
unvoiced question. Then she felt the thongs of the man's flogger resting
lightly against her swinging tit. Looking down at the way the painful
instrument laid against her vulnerable mammary, she blurted, "Yes! I'll eat
you. I'll eat you real good. I swear I ... AIGHHHHHHHH!"
She screamed as Lunsford drew the leather implement back and slammed
it into her fat boob. She was certain that he'd sliced the soft flesh wide
open.
"Please! Please don't. I promised. Really I did."
Steve and his daughter grinned at each other. It was obvious to
them that this woman was now completely broken.
"Will you lick my Daddy's asscrack when we tell you to?" the gloating
girl asked, looking into their captive's eyes. "Will you shove that slutty
tongue up his asshole and drink our piss when we tell you to?"
Angela sobbed rather than answer. She couldn't believe a young girl
could even imagine asking a grown woman to so debase herself, but the idea
of having her breasts slashed to bloody ribbons ... the thought of the pain
involved ... was so unthinkable that she knew she'd promise to do much worse
than that ... to do anything to protect herself.
Whatever she resolved, she didn't answer quickly enough to satisfy
her employer. He drew the leather thongs back again and, with a simple
movement of his wrist, whipped the same dangling boob. Angela's scream this
time was loud enough to rattle the concrete walls. Two of the thongs had
caught her hardened nipple and it felt to the tortured woman as if it had
been ripped from her body.
"Oh fuck, yes!" she howled abjectly. "I'll drink your piss, just
don't whip me any more. Please! You can piss in my mouth! I'll drink it;
I swear I will!"
The young girl laughed delightedly, then scooted over on her knees
in front of her father. She unzipped his fly, dipped her hand inside and
drew out his swelling penis. Angela watched, her eyes widening in horror.
Even after what the two of them had done to her, the sight of the teenager
looking up to her father with love in her eyes as she popped his maleness
into her own mouth and began sucking on it seemed to her to be the ultimate
perversion. But what bothered her even more was her own reaction to the
sight. Perverse it may have been, but it had a beauty too. The look of
adoration in the young girl's eyes, the pert swell of her breasts ... the
way her asscheeks swelled out over the heels they rested on ... it all
seemed so ... so natural! She realized that she must have looked something
like this as she'd done the man the same service ... knelt before him ...
his penis plundering her oral cavity ... allowing her mouth to be used as a
vessel for his brutal lusts. Although this was something her unimaginative
high school dates hadn't ever tried, she found an itch developing between
her legs reminiscent of what she'd felt as she lain beneath the more
demanding and insistent of them in the moments before they'd shoved their
hard, teenage penises into her. She was shamed to realize it was a feeling
she'd blocked from her mind ... a feeling she'd never experienced with Tim.
Lunsford pulled back, extracting his organ from his daughter's
mouth. She winked up at him and asked, "You ready, Daddy?" Whe her father
nodded, the girl swung around, still on her knees, to face Angela's butt.
When the man moved over to kneel directly behind the bound woman, Angela
found herself cringing. It wasn't until that moment that she became aware
that her pussy was sopping wet! That the man was going to fuck her, she had
no doubt. And she had long since resigned herself to that. But to have
these two sadists realize that their treatment of her had excited her
sexually would be the greatest shame she could imagine!
For a moment, she actually felt relieved when he sank his hands into
her asscheeks, spreading them apart. Relieved, that is, until she sensed
the blunt end of his male organ resting against her crinkled anus.
"Oh no!" she screamed. "Please! Not there. You can fuck me," she
pleaded, unconsciously using a word that she'd never spoken, not even in
front of her husband. "But not my ass! Please, you'll kill me!"
"Don't be such a baby," Kaitlyn chuckled. "Nobody's ever died of
having their ass fucked. Bigger things have come out of there than are
going to go in. But you'd better relax or it's going to tear you up a bit."
Steve was paying no attention to the women's words. Angela's
protestations meant nothing to him. 'This will show the little bitch what
happens to women who put me down!' he thought happily. His thumbs dig into
the resisting anus, trying to pull it open somewhat. But despite his
daughter's warnings, the woman's anus was resisting mightily. He was barely
able to get even the smallest peek into her warm, little rectum.
That was fine with the sadistic executive. He remembered that the
last woman he'd anally raped had started the same way. Christy was the wife
of one of his employees; a young man who was one of three he'd been
considering for a promotion. The woman had pracically thrown herself at
him, clearly thinking that a quick roll between the sheets with her
husband's boss would increase her husband's chances. Lunsford had been
turned off by the scheming woman's blatant invitation. Beside, she wasn't
exactly a raving beauty anyway. But she did have on of the cutest, little
asses he'd seen in a while. She'd been so surprised when he'd rolled her
over and her belly and put the head of his cock against her puckered
rosette. She'd even screamed before he'd even started, forcing him to jam
her face down into the pillow to muffle her howls. Hell, she hadn't even
had the advantage of having his daughter's saliva to minimally lubricate his
organ when he'd rammed it up her behind! In truth, he hadn't even noticed
when the noises the young wife made into the pillow changed, but he couldn't
have cared less anyway. All of his attention had been centered on the dry
scraping of her tight anus across his rod ... the caressing feel of her warm
slick rectal walls as he plunged in and out. In the end, he'd by-passed
Christy's husband to promote another. Christy's husband was just simply too
wimpy to handle the duties of the position. But he was amused that the
young wife still continued to come around frequently!
Steve grinned down at Kaitlun, her face barely a foot from the
woman's tail, looking up at him and grinning. He placed the head of his
cock against the wrinkled grommet and pushed his weight down. Father and
daughter watched the resisting sphincter struggle ... eyed it being pressed
down into the tortured rectum ... until it finally gave way! Angela cried
out, her pain so intense she was certain that her entire ass had been ripped
open. At that moment she couldn't have cared less about her handi-capped
son ... about the terrors of life in prison ... about what these two would
do to her in the future. She felt as If an entire telephone pole had been
shoved up her ass, splittling her bound, helpless body in two!
Planting his hands on her ass, Steve Lunsford drew part-way out and
then plunged down and in again, letting the full length of his cock slide
down into the tight, virgin asshole.
+ + + + +
Angela Behr lay on her stomach on the bed, resting. She liked the
bed. She even liked the little room in the basement. It was small ... it
was spare ... but it hers. If anyone in the Lunsford family wanted her
services, they would ring her, but they never bothered to come down here to
be serviced. Since Mister Lunsford had married that Las Vegas show-girl
just two months before, having three people to take care of meant those
calls came with a fair frequency. But she didn't mind. After all, that was
her place!
And it was just as natural to her that she was occasionally called
on to help Mr. Lunsford in his business. Why, just two nights ago, she'd
acted as a potential client's date when the Lunsfords, another couple and
the possible future client went out to eat. Naturally they'd gone upstairs
to a hotel room after the meal, and just as naturally Angela had provided
the entertainment there, getting down on her knees and orally servicing the
two other men as the Lunsfords and the other wife looked on grinningly. One
thing she had learned, even in the short time she'd had the new job, was
that that was all she was really good for.
The woman rolled up on one side, facing away from the mirror and
looking back over her shoulder as she pulled the back of her shortie
night-gown up slightly. She smiled at the reverse image of the small tattoo
on the upper slope of her right ass-cheek ... "Lunsford Family Slut." She
remembered how merrily the other man's wife had laughed when she'd first
read the inscription.
Angela was slightly startled by the sudden light, buzzing noise.
She glanced at the board over the head of her bed and saw a light flashing
that was marked as representing the master bedroom. She quickly got to her
feet, stood in front of the mirror to check out her appearance, then left
her room.
She paused outside the door of the master bedroom, even though it
was open. Looking inside, she saw the father and daughter together on the
king-sized bad. They were both naked and lay on their sides, reversed.
Kaitlyn's back was to her and her head was toward the foot of the bed. Her
father's face was buried between the young girl's thighs. Angela saw the
girl's ass pitching, excited by her father's lingual attentions to her
genitalia. The man's erection lay alongside her neck, while she licked and
sucked on his balls. The teenager had her middle finger buried in her
father's ass up to her palm, her hand twisting slowly.
The lightly clad woman knocked lightly on the door-jamb. "Get your
ass in here!" It was the voice of Lunsford's new wife, though Angela
couldn't see her until she'd entered. Her new Mistress sat on her make-up
stool, her back to the vanity table, leaning back against it. She wore only
a diaphanous robe, and it hung open from her shoulders. Her eyes never
turned to her body servant; rather they were glued to her husband and her
new step-daughter. The nipples of her small, proud breasts were already
rock-hard and her long, sleek legs were widely spread and stretched out in
front of her, the fingers of one hand lightly stroking her own shaved pussy.
Angela Behr knew what was required of her. She dropped to her hands
and knees in the doorway and began crawling across the carpeted floor, her
heavy tits swaying from side to side and her eyes fixed on the spot where
her Mistress' thigh came together ... on the swollen clitoris nestled above
the glistening labial lips.
As her hair brushed the inside of the woman's meaty thighs, she
extended her tongue ...
Finis
Master William
mast_1945@hotmail.com