Chapter 7

Mary was gone.

She had run away from home and the police didn't have a single clue to her whereabouts. The sheriff's deputy had been little help.

He had tried to comfort Bob Anderson that night when he came running into the substation, screaming about his missing daughter.

"Runaways usually come back within twenty four hours," the deputy said.

Well, it had been a week and Mary wasn't home, and it didn't look like his darling daughter was going to come home. Filled with fear and an­ger, he had returned home ready to kill.

His wife had gotten in the way.

He remembered the scene vividly. It could never be erased from his mind.

Fred forced Jackie to sit down and tell him everything. She was reluctant at first, but he was not taking no for an answer.

Jackie rambled on about finding their daughter using the giant dildo she kept in her bedside table. It had been an accident, Jackie explained, wiping the tears from the comers of her eyes. She hadn't meant to overreact. It just happened.

"She's my daughter, too!" Jackie screamed.

Bob listened quietly, nodding his head as his wife rambled on with her monstrous story. The anger built inexorably. He tried to imagine his daughter, experimenting with sex for the first time, being discovered by her enraged, half crazy mother. It made him feel sick. He was so angry he wanted to puke.

No wonder she ran away, Bob thought. His fifteen year old daughter was probably never coming home again. Maybe it had been all right once for a girl to take off from home for a few days. But after New York, after seeing how run­aways ended up, Bob knew how terrible leaving home could be.

He remembered Charlie grabbing that poor, scared prostitute by the cunt hair and pulling her across the seat. Maybe somewhere, right that min­ute, some perverted bastard was doing the same thing to Mary.

His poor little girl!

The hurt welling inside him was unstoppable. The grief made him irrational. It drove him crazy.

"Get the dildo," he told his wife.

She quietly obeyed. Jackie went to the bed­room and returned, holding the long plastic cock out for her husband.

It was an enormous thing, the biggest he had ever seen, even bigger than the ones the whores in Paris used. He gripped the handle and studied the long white shaft. He tried to imagine this fearsome device stuck in his daughter's cunt. The shaft was filled with batteries, and it was capable of produc­ing a thousand volts of electric charge. It had the power of a cattle prod and he imagined that electric current exploding against the tender mem­branes of his daughter's twat.

"Take off your clothes," he said quietly.

"Do what?" his wife said, rising off the chair. Her voice quavered. She couldn't believe her ears. "Do what? Like hell I will!"

She made a break for the door, but Bob's leg caught her ankles. She spilled heavily to the floor.

After that, everything seemed to blur together. He remembered ripping away her clothes and throwing them aside. His wife screamed and kicked like a wild mare, but he had her down and nothing escaped his vise like grip.

His cock grew hard. It pushed against his pants. He was horny, there was no denying that. His wife was fantastic no matter how you fucked her, but he wasn't searching for pleasure at least not the type he was used to. He was going to punish his wife. It was only fair, especially after the cruel way Jackie had treated his daughter.

Spreading her thighs, Bob grabbed the dildo and pushed the conical head up through her quiv­ering rump cheeks and against the pink button that was her asshole.

"You bastard, I'll kill you!" Jackie screamed. She twisted backward with surprising force and bit him on the leg.

Bob screamed. Her teeth sank into his muscle, breaking the skin.

"Cunt!" he roared, backhanding her across the face. The blow snapped her head back. Blood rushed to her cheek. For a second, she forgot about her butt. Her muscles went soft as modeling clay. It wasn't much time, but it was enough for Bob to take the torpedo shaped cock and ram it into her sphincter.

"Aaaaaiiieeee!!" Jackie screamed.

Her hips shot toward the ceiling. If her butt hole hadn't been so soft the dildo would have split her ass open. As it was, Bob had really stretched the little hole all out of shape. He buried the arti­ficial cock a foot inside his wife. The rounded head pressed against her rectum.

Then he turned on the fuck wand!

Her rump cheeks snapped shut and her body went straight as a board. She began to vibrate. She shook and shimmied like a belly dancer, lying on the floor. Only her buttocks showed any motion.

"Oooooo!" she gasped.

Her voice was low and mournful. He watched her face contort with passion. Her eyes had a fun­ny glazed look, as if she were looking through him at something far distant.

Bob reached for her buttocks, all set to start ramming the fuck stick in and out of her puckered asshole. He stopped abruptly.

There was no need. She started screaming and kicking and humping all at once. The dildo crackl­ed in her rectum. It sent jolt after jolt of electric shock up her butt.

And that's how Bob Anderson left home to go search for his missing daughter with a plastic dick shoved up his wife's asshole!