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Trapped

12

Paul stood a few feet away from the woman who sat on the bed, looking her over again. She had strawberry blonde hair that reached almost to her shoulders before curling up. Green eyes, light brows and long lashes, these slightly darker then her hair. Her skin was light, and on her cheeks and button nose he could see freckles. She had good teeth and almost pouty lips, which were opposed to her nature, which was cheerful.

This was Trish. She was wearing tan slacks and jacket, and a white button down blouse. This was her bedroom, with family pictures on the wall and dressers. None of the furniture matched, and there was peeling paint. Her family barely made it. Watching her he could detect that her breath was quickening, a slight sheen of sweat showed both on her forehead and at the base of her throat. Not the first woman like this that he trapped, a wife and mother, but perhaps the best; so cute and innocent, on the PTA and Church Auxiliary. He was going to make sure she carried today for the rest of her life. Finally he spoke.

"Well Trish, you know the rules, right?"

"Ah, yes, I do, I understand, I, I can quit anytime, but then, well that would be it."

"Yes it would. What else?"

"I, I must answer your questions, no nodding, or anything, and, and I will do anything you want, and, and I need you to know, well, that, ah, I want to, that I, I like it...right?"

Tears were welling in her eyes, her long lashes batting them back.

"That's right Trish, so let's start. Do you undress in front of your husband?"

"No, well when we went on our honeymoon, I guess we did, but no."

Again her voice was trembling.

"Have you ever stripped in front of any man Trish?"

His eyes bored on her.

"No, I never did...anything like that."

"But you want to take off your clothes now, right?"

Now she knew she just had to do it, she had no choice, her family, and she, was on the line. Everything. She stood up.

"Yeah, yeah I do, can I Paul, can I undress now?"

She was trembling, tears welling up; any woman would be reacting this way right now, but he had boosted this effect. He nodded.

She took off her jacket, placed it on a nightstand. Then she started unbuttoning her blouse. As he told her, she kept her eyes on his. As the blouse fell open he could see her white skin, and her bra. She pulled the item out from the pant's waist band, unbuttoned the cuffs. Then she pulled it off one arm, then the other. Then she pulled it off her shoulders, placing it on top of her jacket. Next came her slacks. Now she stood in front of him in her bra and panties. Both were white and conservative, no Victoria's Secret gal here.

Her breath was coming quicker now, and Paul could she sweat beading up on the top of her cleavage, which showed above her bra. She didn't have a flat tummy, but it had just a slight roll of flesh, and her navel was perfect. He had her stop.

"You're fucking hot, Trish, I bet your husband must want to fuck all the time, right?"

"Ah, we, we you know, we have...I mean we fuck, maybe not a lot, but..." she was shy now.

"But today you going to fuck aren't you?"

She switched, remembering the "rules."

"Yeah, yeah, we're going to fuck, yeah Paul, you're going to, you'll fuck me, right?"

"Go on then, let me see those fucking tits."

She reached behind and unclasped her bra, shrugged the straps off her shoulders, and let it fall to the carpet. Her breasts were 36D, ripe, not pointing out, but no sag. And large aureoles, the size of saucers, with nipples as thick as her thumb, flaccid right now. Her skin was creamy white, with scattered freckles. Belying her words she was obviously nervous; Sweat ran down her cleavage, he could see her hands trembling.

"When you were in high school did you have big tits Trish?"

"Ah yeah, yes."

"And you let the boys feel them?"

"Well, yeah, I guess, I, I..."

She almost was panicking. Then, for whatever reason, maybe he knew? He knew everything. She answered him.

"I got drunk once at a party, and, and well, somehow I ended up in the basement, and I, well there were a bunch of boys."

"Go on."

"They, they took off my, my sweatshirt and bra. I had to dance for them, and they all took turns feeling me up."

"But they didn't fuck you?"

"No."

"How many times in school did you blow a guy Trish?"

She swallowed, fighting back tears. What did he want?

"I had a boyfriend, we would make out, and after we were going for awhile, well at first I would you know, give him a hand job, but then, well he told me I had to, blow him."

"Did he cum in your mouth?"

"Sometimes." Sometimes on my clothes."

"Well, but today you want me to cum on you, right?"

"What, oh, yeah, can we start, fuck, Paul, come on, I want, you know, everything."

She spoke now in a husky low voice. She had found a "talk dirty" blog, and even asked a girl friend about "spicing things" up with her husband.

"Yeah, well leave your panties on for now."

"Ever take a man's clothes off?"

"No, no Paul." Again, everything she valued was at risk.

"But can I take off yours?"

He nodded. She stepped forward, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, then knelt down and unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down, then his boxers. Now his cock was right in front of her. She looked up at him. She struggled to control her emotions. She hated this, this trap she was in, but there was only one way out. She got closer, then set his cock in her cleavage, and started to pump on him. Her girlfriend had told her how her husband loved this.

"How's that Paul, I, I ...I love doing this"

"That's good..." He looked over to her dresser, on which was a picture of her daughter, Sandy, who just turned eighteen. She was in shorts and a T-Shirt, her legs and arms were tanned and fit, the loose fitting shirt didn't show her tits, but he had followed her and knew she was built. Her hair was a shade lighter than her Mom, but longer.

"I bet Sandy would do a good job of this, right Trish? She's got a good set, right?"

Trish froze at the mention of her daughter. Then, quickly.

"Oh, fuck, I, come on Paul, fuck me, I, I want, I need you to fuck me, really hard, you know!"

"No I don't Trish; I don't even believe you..."

Trish fought back panic. She wasn't even sure how Paul had taken over her life, but he had taken time to show her how he could ruin it, sending her kids away, losing her job.

"Oh, don't Paul, fuck, I need you, you know, come rape my ass, come on..."

"Go get on your bed...good, now take off your panties...there, good, with both hands, good, yeah, lift up your ass...that's it wiggle out of them"

She arched her back as she did what he instructed; when she got her panties off her hips she lay back down and lifted her legs up to finish. Once off she held the underwear in one hand, not knowing what to do with it.

"Just throw it on the floor."

His eyes devoured her now, as she lay there; her bush was small and light, her legs well formed; he had given her a mix of libido inhibitor and a nerve surpressor; almost no woman would be able to respond to the sexual activity she was about to experience in these circumstances; the notion that "their bodies betray them was bullshit; but the "cocktail" in a wine cooler would re-enforce this, in effect making her frigid. The idea of fucking this woman against her wishes, while making her act like she "wanted it" and then turning her body off, so that it would be that much harder to act, it actually turned him on.

He got the bed and climbed over her, squatting over her face.

"Now eat my ass..."

Four hours later Trish lay on her bed, in effect passed out. Her hair was matted to her head from sweat, the spread she lay was soaked also; her lips were swollen from Paul chewing on them. Her 36D breasts showed bite marks, red splotches', even high school hickies; her nipples, as thick and big as her thumb, he had bitten raw; her ass and thighs were all but covered with bright red welts from open palmed slaps. All of that had produced cries of pain from her, but when he told her she could quit she would beg for more. And she got more. The fantasy of a woman actually getting turned on, cuming in spite of herself when in taken like this was bullshit.

He had just 15 minutes ago finished fucking her ass; drugs and training allowed him unnatural duration, and he had given her the ass fucking she begged for, first making her lower herself on his cock and fuck it with her butt; when her arms couldn't support her he had her bend over her bed; by the time he was ready to cum, an hour into this, she had all but passed out; he flipped her over and got her responsive enough to pump him dry, spewing ropes of thick cum on her fine tits.

Before that he had cum twice deep in her cunt; when he started working her he had hacked her family's med records and knew her husband was fixed. After that in the arrangements leading up to today he had given her fertility drugs laced in wine coolers. From past experience with other women he knew that she'll get pregnant. And there haven't been abortions for years she would be his, until her tired of her.

But even a bigger prize was possible. He had taken Trish's phone as he let her lay on the bed and sent a text. Shorty the first part of his plan worked. He heard a key in the front door, then it opened; no reaction from Trish, he waited;

"Mom, I'm home, where are you?"

Trish sat up, rubbed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. Then:

"Mom?"

Fighting back panic she managed a coherent response.

"Hey Sandy, I, I am in the bedroom, ah, just wait out on the couch. Okay?"

"Okay, I'm grabbing a pop."

"That's fine!"

Then she looked at Paul and in a whisper

"What!"

He showed her phone. On the screen was Sandy's reply "Coming right away" Above it "please come home, I need you."

Shocked, she looked back at Paul;

"This, she, she isn't..."

Tears came to her eyes.

"That's how it goes Trish, you made some mistakes. Now you go out there and convince your girl that's she needs to participate, for all of you, or, well you know."

Trish took a deep breath. Once again, the thoughts, Oh God, if I only hadn't...but she had. She got up off the bed and went over to her closet and grabbed a robe, tying the cord as she went to the bedroom door Paul grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

"Fifteen minutes, you need to be bringing her in here. Understand?"

She nodded and went out. In a moment;

Mom! What happened?!"

"Please Sandy, sit down."

Then Paul would her Trish's muffled words, with Sandy's interjections.

"What! How did this happen!?"

"Who, who is this fucker."

That made Paul smile.

Trish would talk some more and soon there was nothing coming from Sandy Paul had given them a few extra minutes when they both walked into the bedroom, Trish first. Then Sandy, who stood there and glared at him. She was wearing a powder blue sweat shirt and rose shaded shorts. Just like her picture her legs were tan, well formed. She had hair a bit lighter than her Mom's, and longer, done up in twin braids that hung on her chest, and had just turned eighteen.

"So you're this man." Her voice filled with disgust.

"Yes, and your Sandy, and your Mom told you the rules, and since it doesn't seem like you'll follow them I have a call to make"

Before he could finish Trish stopped him.

"No, Paul! Sandy, you, you know, right? You said you would."

Her defiance left the young woman.

"Ye, yes..."

"And what are they?"

"I, I'll do want you want, and answer your questions..."

"Good, well did Trish tell you how much she liked it?"

The women looked at each other, then;

"Yeah Sandy I loved it, he, I mean he really gave me a fucking, like, like..."

"Like your stepdad never did. I have a recording, so later you can listen Sandy to your Mom. When she wasn't begging for it she was moaning like a banshee."

The girl stood there, shocked. Now her eyes had tears. After a moment; he took out two wine coolers out of his duffel and handed each of the woman one; Sandy looked at it; but then Trish told her;

"Look Sandy, the wrapper is still on..."

"Oh, yeah..."

And not thinking of anything else to do they opened the bottles and drank them down;

Of course, they weren't just wine coolers; Sandy's had a mix of a ramped up libido enhancer, an ingredient that would heighten, close to unbearable, the nerve endings of her nipples and clit; combined with an agent that would prevent her from climaxing; the combination would have her constantly trying to cum but never able to. Trish's was mixed with a mood "alterer" to get her use to what was going to happen to her daughter.

"What do you think Trish, does Sandy want it too?"

Trish swallowed, then;

"I'm sure Paul, yeah, right Sandy?"

"Well Trish, don't think Sandy hasn't fucked, in fact you had a boy fuck you right on this bed, right?"

The girl froze, then.

"Yes, I..." She looked down.

"Not that they were boyfriends, right Sandy?"

"Right."

"Right what?"

"They, the boys, I, and it was a hook up..."

Trish looked at her girl.

"A what?"

"Go on Sandy..."

"I, I would find these guys, and well, we text each other for, for when we could get together..."

"You mean fuck, right?"

"Fuck, yes..."

Paul went on;

"But you were careful weren't, not to fuck unless it was safe with your period, right?"

"Yes, that's right Paul."

She stood in front of them, wringing her hands. How does he know everything?

"But then when it wasn't safe what did you do Sandy? I mean what did you let those boys do?"

"They, I, I mean we had oral sex, but then most, well they wanted to, ah, have anal sex."

Paul actually laughed.

"Fuck, think of that Trish, those poor boys, all they could do was fuck her in the ass! Wait until we tell Jeff!"

The name of Trish's husband, actually Sandy's stepdad, made them both flinch.

He went on.

"So where did they cum Sandy?"

"W, What?"

"When you had those boys fucking your ass, where did they cum?" After a moment;

"well, they would, like, cum, cum on my ass, or ah..."

"In your ass?"

"Yes, in my, my ass..." in a quiet voice

"What about you Sandy, do you cum from a good ass fucking?"

"Yeah, sometimes I would cum" then since he knew everything, "sometimes I would get them, to, you know, eat me first, then, it was, I kind of had to let them..."

"Okay, but now Sandy, what do you want?"

She looked at him, then her mother, who was glassy eyed

"Yeah, I, I, I want you to fuck me."

"I think I'll be making a phone call."

"NO, No, I want you..."

"Okay, stand in front of me, Trish get behind your girl, good, now, Sandy you keep your eyes on me, and Mom, go on and lift her sweatshirt off."

In a second Trish had her hands on the bottom of the shirt, and lifted it up. Sandy raised her arms and her Mom worked it over her daughter's head and then tossed the garment on the floor. Sandy reflexively shook her braids down, making her tits jiggle.

Paul couldn't believe it; she had no bra on, and while her tits had to be 36DD, there was no sag; below the tan line her skin was light, but not as pale as her Mom's. Her nipples were not as big, either, but her long braided hair lying on her breasts was a turn on. Her tummy was flat, and like her Mom she had a perfect navel.

Sandy stood there, her eyes on Paul.

"Your fucking hot Sandy, you like standing there? Having your mother the one to take off your top and have you showing those fine tits to me? Fucking hot having your Mom do it?"

After a long pause she answered in a husky voice.

"Yeah, I like, ah having her take, take off my clothes. Ah..."

She closed her eyes, and then opened them.

"Yeah, it is, you know, I, I, don't know why..."

"Maybe I'll have her eat you out while say I's m fucking those tits of yours..."

Fighting back tears Sandy answered.

"Yeah, I would love that..."

"Love what Sandy?"

Trish whispered something in her daughter's ear.

"I, I fuck...,"making her voice husky and low, "I would love having you fuck my tits," she cupped her breasts with her hands "and, and, have Mom, ah, eat me."

"Trish," who was still behind Sandy," I bet you been wanting to strip your girl like this, huh?"

"Oh, ah, yeah, I, I, you know, her, her tits...once she started to develop..."

"Yeah, well I bet your Jeff would like to, and those brothers, ever let them have a look?"

Now the girl was stunned, couldn't say a word. Paul let it slide.

"Trish, how about it, her stepdad ever say he wanted at least to check her out?"

"He, he, I caught him a few times, but, but I didn't care, you know...we, we only have one bathroom, and he would go in when she was in there, taking a bath, and he, well, he married me and took her in..."

"Did he Sandy? Come in the bath?"

"Yes, but he said..."

"Well, like your mom said, he took you in. How about your brothers?"

He knew everything she thought to herself.

"I, I knew they would peek when I, I changed."

"Yeah, you didn't care, did you? You even let them feel you up when you wrestled in the backyard, didn't you?"

Oh God, when will this end!

"Yes"

"Maybe we can set it up for him to get a good look. But now, Trish, let's get your girl naked. Remember Sandy, look at me"

The mother knelt down, still behind her daughter, and reached around, unbuttoned her shorts, then pulled them and her panties off together. Sandy had a light bush; her hips were wide, but well proportioned.

"Sandy, return the favor, take off your Mom's robe."

Trish stood next to her girl, who after a moment reached and untied the cord; Trish started to slide off the garment but Paul stopped her:

"Let your girl do it."

Sandy took a hand and peeled off the robe from one shoulder then the other, letting it fall off.

"Good now go in front of the wall Sandy, good, how put your hands behind your neck, good..."

He went on, having the young woman display her body; cupping her tits, standing with her hands on her hips. Finally, the girl flushed red.

"Well Trish, should Sandy get a good fucking? Do you want me to fuck your girl?"

Trish sat there, biting her lip, her girl looking at her; Oh God, if, if...

"Yeah Paul, fuck her, fuck her right on the bed, right in front of me, please.." her voice was horse, urgent, almost manic, Paul thought that she might have broken, "rape her ass, right now, I want to watch her face as your cock jams her cunt..."

"MOM!"

"Lay down on the bed, Good, on your back, fuck look at those tits, get up too Trish, now kneel down there, good."

Trish knelt down above Sandy's head, so that she was looking down on her; Paul lay on top of the young woman, then placed his mouth over one breast, taking in as much as he could. Then he started; biting, pinching, and switching to her lips. Now the drugs he had given her kicked in. She squirmed under him, her hands ran over his body, she wrapped her legs around his hips and started pumping against them. She grabbed his ass and pulled it down on her, then moved them to his head to force his mouth against his tits; when he would bite hard or pinch her nipples, twisting them she would yelp, buck her hips, she was aware enough that something was going on. She hated this man, but she never wanted it so badly.

"Oh, oh, oh, fuck, oh man, fuck, I, I...," and more, "oh, please, please..."

She tried to hold him on her as he got off. Without his body, hands, mouth working her she reached down and ran a finger along her slit, then started actually finger fuck herself, lifting her ass off the bed. She knew this was crazy.

"Oh, Mom, what, what..." Tears ran down her cheeks.

Trish just looked down at her girl, the drugs Paul had given her making her oblivious to her daughter's pleas. Then Paul spoke.

12
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