Chapter 7
The incredible itch was burning in Lynn's groin again. She knew her father was casting lip-licking glances at her tits. They were provocatively hazy under the nearly transparent pajamas she was wearing. Sitting primly, carefully straight, she picked away at her cereal, and waited for him to do something.
She didn't understand him yet. Maybe she never would. If driven far enough, he would subject her to sexual humiliations and perversions that were beyond belief. At other times, like the present, his attitude toward her was strictly proper father to daughter.
It was almost as if there was a safety valve inside him. Get the pressures high enough and sadistic, domineering lust exploded. It took a while for the pressures to rebuild after they were released.
It had been a week since he had taken her in the garage. Lynn hoped that was long enough. Her belly was a clenched knot of horniness. She knew if her father didn't satisfy her, she would go in search of Carl. There wasn't any question of looking for Jamey Dwayne, unless she found Carl first. Jamey's mammoth cock wasn't enough to slake her horniness, even though she had managed to convince herself that it was that one time with him. She needed ropes and whips to bring her off. She knew that now.
Giving a soft sigh, she felt her tits stiffening and swelling at the thought of being roped and raped. Pain and pleasure were twisted together inside her and couldn't be separated. The simple screwing Jamey had given her had been relatively satisfying only because of his gigantic dork.
She squirmed restlessly, felt her burning tits shift, felt them stroke the soft, transparent pajamas. Her pussy was steaming ravenously. She opened and closed her thighs restlessly. Surreptitiously, she sneaked her free hand into her crotch and rubbed her soft labes through the panties. "What are your plans for today?" her father asked, startling her, making her flinch.
"Oh, nothing special," she sighed.
Peter wasn't unaware of her hominess. His own guts knotted with lust just at the sight of her. He wanted to see her tits being gouged by ropes, to have her helpless while he plunged his cock into her sizzling twat. He knew she was begging for it, and was deliberately torturing them both by holding off.
Also, he had a plan nagging the back of his mind, a plan that would increase the pleasure for all of them. If one man and one cock were good, then two men and two cocks would be great. The thought of two dorks spearing his helplessly twitching daughter nearly made him cream in his pants.
"I'm going to be out all day," he informed her, his chest hot as he feasted his eyes on her rising and falling tits. Christ how he wanted to sink his fingers into those soft mounds!
"Oh, Daddy, no!"
"Sorry, baby, but it can't be helped." His lust made it easy to carry off the lie. "Business."
"Oh, okay."
He could see her mind working, feel her disappointment from across the table. Okay, give her the opening she needs. "Why don't you have a couple of friends over or something? There's plenty in the refrigerator, and records to dance to."
The spoon that had been stirring the dregs of her cereal paused. He could see the wheels turning behind her hot, dark eyes. "You can have the run of the whole place," he added.
Lynn thought, thought of having Carl here, to the garage, with all it had to offer. She was remembering, too, her idea of having Jamey present the next time she turned herself over to Carl's untended mercies.
"Well, I've got to be going," Peter said, putting his napkin on the table. He glanced out the window at the sheets of gray rain. "Not a day fit for man or beast."
Lynn wondered if the cabin in the woods leaked. The dirt road leading to it would be a swamp. They wouldn't be able to reach it, she realized.
Her horniness was too demanding to endure. She would have to find some way to slake it. She kissed her father good-bye. As he went out to his car, the flames began crackling in her guts.
Her hand shook like a leaf when she tried to dial. The endless burring at the other end of the line sent her spirits diving. It meant she would have to go out in search of Carl.
Just as she was starting for her room to get dressed, the doorbell chimed. She froze, and glanced down at her revealing outfit. Then she shrugged and started toward the door. Probably it was her father coming back for something. After all, it was nine in the morning, and a rainy one at that.
She regretted her decision the moment she opened the door. Without warning, it rammed into her, driven by whoever was on the other side. For a moment she resisted, then she was slammed against the wall.
Jamey Dwayne shoved into the house and banged the door shut.
Insanely, Lynn tried to hide her breasts and pussy with her hands. "Jamey, what're you doing here?"
Jamey loomed over her. His blue eyes were glittering, his hands were opening and closing. "I waited for your father to leave," he answered.
"Well," Lynn said, trying to gather her courage. "I think you had better go."
Jamey ignored her statement. "I've been talking with Carl."
"Talking with Carl?"
"Seems all this time I've been treating you like a lady," Jamey went on, "when I should have been treating you like a whore."
Lynn felt her insides clench at the threat, the insult. "Now wait just a minute!"
"No, you wait a minute," he retorted, advancing on her ominously. "You teased me for weeks. Then after Carl broke you in, you took my cock like you were granting some incredible favor." "Jamey, I'm warning you, I'll call the cops,"
Lynn said shakily, reaching for the phone.
He cuffed her away from it as if he was swatting a fly. Lynn staggered and fetched up against the door to the living room. There was a hot flush on her cheek from the casual slap-and a sudden soaring surge of horniness in her crotch.
Jamey kept her off balance, kept pushing and shoving her as he herded her into the living room. "Where's some rope?" he demanded. "Come on, give! I know what you like. Where's the rope?"
"The garage . . . " Her words were cut off when Jamey suddenly ripped the flimsy pajama top off her. She stumbled backwards over a chair.
Grabbing her arms, he yanked her to her feet, and spun her around. Her tits jiggled enticingly. Holding her in a double hammer lock, he propelled her ahead of him through the house to the kitchen. "You're hurting me," Lynn protested.
"And you love it," Jamey growled.
Lynn's snatch was clenching and squirming with arousal. She made feeble, half-hearted attempts to escape Jamey's grasp. They were more to prove to herself that she was helpless than anything else.
"Someone will see us," Lynn protested as he clamped both her wrists in one strong hand and reached to open the door to the breezeway.
"Tough shit," he snorted, yanking the door open and shoving her through. He never relaxed his bone-crushing grip on her wrists.
The touch of the cool mist on her nearly naked body made her wriggle erotically. He paused to open the door to the garage.
Once inside, she thought he would let go of her. He didn't. He kicked the door shut behind him, but didn't bother with the lock. Standing at the top of the steps, he studied the naked expanse of concrete and the tools ranked around the walls. Spotting the light switch, he flicked it on. The overhead fluorescents struggled to life.
Lynn squirmed, uselessly, then stumbled and almost fell when he pushed her down the two steps. The concrete was frigid under her bare feet, and the garage was cool enough to raise goose bumps on her naked flesh. Her tits, already rigid with horniness, stiffened still more from the touch of cold air.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked in a tone rich with fear and lust.
"What I should have done weeks ago," Jamey growled. "I'm going to rape the hell out of you." "Noooo," Lynn moaned while her pussy swamped itself with sex juice.
"But first I'm going to make sure you can't get away," he added, dragging her toward the wall of rope. "Looks like there's enough here to hang you if I want to."
The thought of hemp slowly choking the life out of her brought Lynn's lust to the flash point. Jamey studied what was available. "Rope seems too gentle for you," he mused, and reached instead for a chain. It had hooks at both ends. It rattled and clattered as he shook it out with one hand. It looked like it was about twenty feet long, maybe more. The gray steel links looked icy. In comparison, hemp rope was soft and warm. Lynn thought of the cruel steel cutting into her, binding her, and bit her lip as a wave of lust and terror brought tears to her eyes and her twat.
Ignoring her feeble wiggling, Jamey looped the chain around her wrists twice, and pulled it tight until she was sure her forearms were going to break. With a brisk click, he secured the two loops with the hook at the end. Then he released her wrists and used the free length of chain as a leash. Is this a private party? Or can anyone join in?"
Lynn whirled at the sound of Carl's voice. He was standing in the door from the breezeway. He was leaning against the frame casually. His arms were folded across his powerful chest.
He didn't wait for an answer. He pushed the door shut behind him, and joined them. "Thought I'd find you here," he said to Jamey.
"Oh?"
Carl grinned. "Sure. After what I told you about my little slave, I figured you wouldn't be able to stay away from her."
"Yeah, well you can just leave again," Jamey growled, the chain clanking in his grasp.
Carl strolled around and studied Lynn from every angle. She tried to look defiant, but the chain digging into her arms was too great a reminder of her helplessness. "Tut-tut," Carl clucked. "There's enough for both of us, even if we don't feel like taking turns." He gazed around the garage. "Must say, this place has marvelous possibilities. I heard some stories about her mother, and from the looks of it, they were true." "What'd you hear?" Jamey asked.
"Seems she liked it rough, too," Carl answered. "Bondage, beatings, rape, the whole bit. Even liked to get pissed on," Carl added, turning to Lynn. "Right, slut?"
Lynn tried to deny it with her eyes, because she didn't trust her voice. It didn't work and her gaze slipped away from Carl's hard one.
"I'll bet you like it, too," Carl purred ominously. Reaching down, he felt the crotch of her panties insolently. "Sopping wet at the thought of it, aren't you, slut?"
Lynn hung her head in embarrassment as flames made her shudder. His fingers toyed with her twat through her pajamas, pinched and fondled her soft labes, pressed and rolled her clit.
When he let go of her pussy, he grasped her arm and turned her, inspected the chains that were binding her arms in a double hammerlock. "Chains! Wish I'd thought of that," Carl grunted.
"Yeah, well I'm the one who did," Jamey snapped, trying to regain control of the situation. Carl backed away and leaned against the workbench. "Carry on, carry on," he urged. "Don't let me stop you. I'm willing to take sloppy seconds."
Jamey paused, flustered, unsure of himself.
"Maybe the chains would look good digging into those little titties of hers," Carl suggested casually, toying with the vise, spinning the jaws open and closed.
"Yeah," Jamey agreed. While Lynn stood there, frozen in place, wearing only a flimsy pair of panties, he began to wrap the chill steel links around her. She bit back a moan as her flesh was pinched by the cruel, cold links. Looking down, she saw the chain digging into her soft, tender boobs.
"Not the tits," Carl cautioned. "We'll have other uses for them."
Jamey pulled the chain tight and crossed it under her jugs, made them lift up. Then he took two turns across the tops of her jutting boobs. Because of the pressure of the chain on her soft globes, her nipples protruded anxiously.
More than just the coldness, which was fading quickly as the chain was warmed by her body, Lynn was aware of the weight. The chain was heavy, dragging on her flesh.
"She loves to suck cock," Carl told Jamey.
"I know it," Jamey answered, still a little irritated by Carl's presence. Unzipping his fly, he released his titanic dork.
"Sonovabitch!" Carl grunted at the sight of it. "Down on your knees," Jamey ordered Lynn. With a moan of lust, Lynn dropped to the floor. She winced at the bruising impact with the concrete. Jamey brandished his mammoth shaft in her face. She smelled his arousal, the musky scent of his pre-cum. With a wanton groan, she opened her mouth, sought his gigantic prick. Thinking of what she must look like, holding in her mind the feel of the steel chain weighing her down, she engulfed the head of Jamey's dork with her sucking lips.
As she slurped and drew on Jamey's cock, Carl began to undress. He was naked in about two seconds flat. His pecker stood out stiff as a pole as he started toward her. Horniness was a flame in his gut as he studied the chains digging deep into Lynn's body. Her mouth gaped wide, embraced the monster knob of Jamey's cock.
Lynn was stroking her head slowly, forward and back, driving Jamey's cock down her throat. The fire in her loins had cremated the last of her inhibitions. She would do anything they wanted, anything at all, and she knew that they knew it.
Jamey's hands gripped her head and began guiding her. His hips thrust as he stared down hungrily, watching his dork splitting her mouth. His thrusts became harder, sharper, more demanding. Soon she was weeping from the pain of the oral rape. He was oblivious to her choking and gasping. He rammed his cock down her throat, making her gag and try to retch out the brutal block of meat.
He slammed into her, and she felt his dick spurt, spout, felt thick creamy essence stream over her tongue and down her throat. Choking, she gulped desperately. Wriggling against the steel chain, feeling it bite into her tits, her arms, she swallowed and swallowed. She had to or she would drown in hot cream. He didn't let her draw away until his dick was totally drained. Then he carefully wiped his spit- and cum-coated dork on her cheeks and eyelids and nose.
"Slut," he hissed.
"She loves it," Peter Stevens commented as he latched the door behind himself and began undressing.
"Jesus Christ!" Jamey yelped.
Lynn wanted to crawl into a hole. What was her father doing here?
"Son-of-a-bitch," Carl snapped in obvious frustration.
Casually, Peter continued undressing. He dropped his clothes to the floor, revealed his thrusting hard-on. "Don't mind me, I'll wait my turn," he assured the two boys.
"You knew about this?" Carl asked suspiciously. "I knew about you, and suspected about you," Peter answered, nodding at Jamey.
"But she's your daughter!" Jamey protested. "Disgusting, isn't it?" Peter asked mildly. "Almost like screwing your sister."
Jamey went pale. "How did you know?"
"I didn't," Peter chuckled. "But I suspected." "You don't mind?" Carl asked. "I mean, about us and Lynn?"
Peter shook his head. "She loves it. Who am I to stand in the way of my daughter's happiness?"
Carl brandished his thrusting dork. "Then you don't mind if I, ah, enjoy myself?"
"Be my guest," Peter said. "Care for a beer?" He went to the old refrigerator in the corner and opened it, got out three bottles.
Carl had jerked Lynn to her feet and was using the chain to guide her over to the workbench. "Bend over, bitch," he ordered.
Lynn followed his orders, leaning forward on the bench. Her tit was in the jaws of the vise. Slowly, Carl wound it closed on the protruding, tender berry of her nipple. The touch of the chill steel against her nubbin wrenched a desperate whimper from her.
"Not too tight," Carl hissed, carefully closing the vise until it had a mouthful of her flesh and was gently grinding it. "But tight enough for you to feel it."
Lynn moaned at the agonizing ache as her boob was slowly mangled between the brutal steel jaws. When he released her after what seemed a century, her jug ached and throbbed. Bending her over the end of the bench, he forced her head down on the cold surface spattered with paint and sawdust and oil, ground her cheek against the hard planks. Then he ripped away her panties. She felt his dick at her pussy and sighed.
He slammed his cock into her with a single brutal thrust that left her gasping for air. While her father drank his beer and watched, she was pounded by Carl's dork, jolted by his slamming impacts against her ass as he fucked her. She realized that she was cumming, sort of. She had been cumming ever since the chains had bitten into her breasts. The stroking of Carl's cock into her flooded pussy increased her ecstasy. The chain scraped her flesh, rattled against the edge of the workbench as she was jolted by Carl's raping drives.
She felt his dork leaping in her cunt, felt his hot semen flood her spasming cunny. With a shrill whine, she acknowledged her absolute pleasure at being hosed with his thick jism. She wriggled against his spurting pecker until she felt the overflow trickle from her abused pussy and dribble down her spread thighs.
Then Carl pulled away, left her leaning helplessly against the workbench. She managed to twist around. She was just in time to see her father start toward her, his cock leading the way. There was a hot gleam in his eyes.
This time it was a face-to-face ravishing. He bent her back against the workbench and hooked his cock up into her streaming twat. "Slut," he hissed, putting his hand on her throat and forcing her farther and farther backwards. He drove his dork into her with quick sharp thrusting drives that jolted the wind from her in soft huffs.
It was over in seconds. His cum spurted up into her already sodden tunnel. Waves of goo flowed from her drenched twat, flooded down her thighs in hot, sticky waves. When he was done, he grabbed the chain and yanked her to her feet. "Get over there in the middle of the floor and kneel," he ordered, giving her a hard shove. Weakly, Lynn sank down over the drain. "Oh God," she moaned as lust raged through her, left her shivering and weak, in the grip of her pain and humiliation.
"She really does like it," Jamey commented.
"In the mouth, up the ass, anywhere," Peter agreed, finishing his beer. "Just like her mother." The fact that it was her own father who was exposing the vileness of her desires made it all the more agonizing, and arousing. Kneeling in the center of the floor, her head hanging, she felt their eyes on her. She was aware of the warm smell of sex rising from her steaming pussy, and, in her belly, of a building need to pee.
"Is it true she likes to get pissed on?" Carl asked, trying, unsuccessfully, to sound casual. "Ask her," Peter grunted, flipping his empty beer can into a trash barrel.
Lynn didn't look up when Carl's feet appeared in front of her. He grabbed her tousled brown locks and yanked her head back. "Well, do you?" he asked harshly.
She tried to deny it, tried to fight back the tears of pain and degradation. But in the end she nodded. "Yes," she whispered miserably as her guts knotted with lust. She squirmed, thigh against thigh as her horniness built again.
"Coffee and beer," Carl said softly, "really get my kidney's flowing. You want it?"
Lynn bit her lip. She did, dear God, she did want it. She felt sick as she tried to deny it and failed.
"Tell me, bitch, do you want it?" Carl rasped. "I want it," she whispered.
"Louder!"
"I want it," she said, louder.
"Want what?" He sneered when she looked up at him. "Say it real loud, bitch:"
"I want ... you ... to piss on me," she said, choking the words out past the lump in her throat. "Beg for it," he snarled.
"Please," she moaned. "Please, please, piss on me, use me as a toilet, please, please, please." Her voice faded off into a mad mumble as tears of shame trickled down her cheeks.
Stepping back, Carl grasped his half-hard cock. "Open your eyes, bitch, so you can see it coming." She did as ordered and saw a hot stream erupt from his dork. Boiling acid spattered over her helpless body. As she writhed in agony, he played his piss over her tits and throat, her face, down to her thighs and belly. It went on and on and on. Then suddenly her own bladder couldn't be restrained any longer, and she felt her pee gush from her pussy, spurt over her thighs. She pinched them closed in a vain attempt to conceal what was happening.
"Goddamn. Pisses on herself, too," Carl grunted as his flow dwindled, then spurted one last time. "Too bad I ran out."
Then Jamey was there, and she was being flooded by his hot stream. Lynn didn't care any more. It was a sick hot shower. Fragrant piss flowed over her ravaged. body. Her father joined, added his stream to her disgusting bath.
She was left whimpering and moaning in the center of a puddle. She could hear it trickling down the drain under her. For a long time no one did anything but stare at her huddled form. She felt the piss drying coldly on her naked body.
Then, with an abject moan of total humiliation, she crawled to her father, and proceeded to take his still-dripping dick into her mouth. Her chained fifteen-year-old body squirmed with wanton lust as she massaged his dick to life with her tongue and lips.
Someone came up behind her and she felt a cock nuzzle into her ass crack. With a moan she submitted, let her shitter be slowly, agonizingly driven open by an un-lubricated dork. If it was Jamey, she knew she was doomed. His monster prick was too big.
She sucked on her father's prick and groaned with disappointment when she realized it was Carl's cock violating her shitter. She felt like she was spitted on two cocks as she sucked on one and took the other up her rear. She should be over an open fire, should be being twisted and turned on the two spikes.
"Get her on her back on top of you, Carl," Peter said, pulling his cock out of her mouth.
There was a mad giddy moment, and then she was on her back. Her legs were spread around Carl's as he lay under her. His cock was socketed full depth in her asshole. It felt like a steel bar was in her rear. His hands clutched at her. Her arms were grinding into his gut. The chain was pinched between them, and the links were grating against each other.
Her father came down on top of her and his cock found her cunt. With a moan, she felt his cock ram slowly into her pinched-shut cunny.
Carl hadn't believed what was coming, until he felt Peter's dork sliding into Lynn's cunt. He felt it through the thin tissue barrier between asshole and cunt. It felt as if a roller was slowly stroking up along his squeezed, sheathed cock. "Sonovabitch, I won't even have to move," he grunted.
Peter didn't care. He was pistoning his dork in his daughter, feeling the piss on her smearing his body as he ravaged her. Her cunt was pinched tight by the cock up her rear. The pressure and friction against his dong was exquisite.
Then he saw Jamey kneel down, and shove his monster dork into Lynn's mouth. Peter almost came in his daughter right then. His balls throbbed as he held back, and watched Lynn suck on the purple cap of Jamey's dick.
At long last Lynn was getting enough cock. She was pinched like a kernel of wheat between two millstones. The chain ground into her abused body. She was nothing but a receptacle for three mammoth dorks. She was reduced to a puddle of lust as the cock in her cunt, her father's cock, stroked in and out, in and out. Then Carl moved in her asshole and she was being rolled into a tiny pill of carnality. She was tossed in the air as they began to cum in her. She couldn't tell if it was all at once or one after the other. She was carried away into darkness on a steaming sea of cum. She gulped down Jamey's creamy contribution as the others hosed her asshole and cunt with theirs.
She came to slowly as the chains were unwrapped from around her aching breasts and arms. She was sitting on her father's lap. Moaning softly, she felt daggers driving into her shoulders and elbows as she straightened her arms. She turned and leaned against her father while Jamey and Carl unfastened her wrists.
"Carl, there's a collar over there on the wall," Peter told the youth.
Lynn watched, her insides soft and warm and satiated. Carl came back with a black leather band an inch wide. It was studded with chrome welts and rings.
"I think you've earned this now," Peter told his daughter. Reaching for his pants, he dragged them over and got out his keys.
Lynn didn't need to be told. She squirmed out of his lap and knelt subserviently in front of him. As she watched, he unlocked the padlock on the slave collar. She lowered her head and he slipped the cold leather around her slender throat. She felt, and heard, the lock click shut behind her. She felt more loved than she ever had in her entire life.
"I'll keep the key, but that collar is a symbol of your enslavement to Jamey and Carl as well as to me. Understood?"
Lynn nodded. Tears glistened in her eyes. "When you marry, your husband gets the key," Peter went on. "Now, go hose yourself off. You're filthy."
"Yesssir," Lynn said softly as she got to her feet. The collar was heavy around her throat. The heat from her lust and love made her practically oblivious of the chill of the water as she washed off their piss and cum.