“No, Father kept me in the house,” said Anna as if the explanation was necessary.
“They are so jealous of one another,” said Ilona. “Vladimir wants two sons so he can show up his old man. He’s been taking me constantly, even with little Vladimir in my arms. I fear… I fear that when my sons grow up, Vladimir will turn them against me too.”
“At least they are not your father’s sons,” said Anna, but saying that brought tears to her eyes because she knew the fear that Ilona verbalized. “He says… he wants a son so his son and mine can take over. In all ways, Ilona.”
“I will pray for you,” said Ilona, as if she had nothing else to say. She left quietly, and Anna lay back and stared at the ceiling, praying too. She prayed for death to overtake her, to free her from her torment, to keep the baby growing within her innocent of the world into which it would be born.
Sergei Ivanovich decided that he wanted to show Anna off again, now that she was having his son. He took her to town with him, like a doll on his arm. They were noticed, and people wondered who Sergei Ivanovich’s new child bride was. If there was suspicion, it was quiet, and after all, a man’s business is his own. Anna’s father didn’t take her to church, because he was a superstitious man, but he let her go offer prayers for the health of the child. She prayed for deliverance, but didn’t say a word to the priests.
Sergei Ivanovich also took Anna to visit his son, because he enjoyed showing her off there even more. Ilona was not pregnant, so Vladimir beat her out of jealousy. He hated his father for lording it over him, and he desired Anna but could not have her. Sergei Ivanovich even made it a point to bring Anna in revealing clothes, and as spring arrived the weather warmed and the clothes became more and more revealing.
They visited for evening meals often, and one evening at the table Anna’s father and brother were arguing as they usually did. “Anna has always been an obedient bitch at my feet,” said Sergei Ivanovich. “She would do anything I asked.”
“And yet you want my wife too,” said Vladimir, bringing up a constant source of tension between the two. “When I cut you off, you could have chewed through iron. Anna may be obedient, but she’s no match to Ilona. Once Anna drops the child from her saggy cunt, you’ll see how much enjoyment you get out of her.”
“Your bitch has had a child out of her already,” said her father. “She’s stretched out too. You’ll leave her for a younger bit of tail.”
“You can’t get a younger bit of tail,” said Vladimir. He had risen and was spitting his words at his father, who was also rising. “Give it up, old man. You’re just jealous because you’ve got to fuck your own daughter.”
“I don’t have to, I want to,” said Sergei Ivanovich, his face reddening. “You do too, admit it! She’s plumping up with my son and you can’t think of anything else but sticking your cock in her. I never saw you complaining when she was all you had.”
“She was never all I had!”
“Why should I let you fuck her?”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“Jealous?”
“No, you’re jealous!”
“Enough!” thundered Anna’s father. “I’ll prove to you that she’s all I say. Anna, get naked and on my cock. Right here. If you’re not jealous, you won’t have any problem with that.”
Anna thought was a deep part of her mind that it was true, she was obedient. She thought this as she was slipping her blouse over her head and dropping her skirt to the floor. She was wearing no underwear, and she obediently and without thought went over and stood in front of her father, who had pulled his trousers down and was stroking his cock while glaring across the table at Vladimir, who was livid. “On the table,” said Sergei Ivanovich, roughly clearing a spot and pushing her back onto it. Her breasts bounced and her brother, despite his rage, couldn’t help but be drawn to look at his sister, lying back on his dining table preparing to take her father’s cock between her legs.
The cock was quick in coming. It plunged into her passage as her father roughly grabbed her hips and drew her to him. Her breasts, swollen but still small, swayed, and her hair fluttered as the table bounced with the force of his thrust. Anna’s eyes met her brother’s and stared, as if it was nothing, just routine, which of course it was.
Sergei Ivanovich fucked his pregnant daughter’s cunt for a few minutes more, and Vladimir was obviously jealous. “You can’t have her, boy,” said her father roughly, grunting the words as he pressed himself into her. “She’s all mine, and her son will be mine too. Your cow of a wife can’t compete.” Anna heard the words and was shocked. Surely her father didn’t value her at all. But she realized that he did value her, but only as his property. This wasn’t love, neither his nor her brother’s jealousy or lust. They didn’t love her, ever.
She obediently slid from the table when her father commanded it, and took his cock in her mouth as he sat back down to continue dinner. “You didn’t want her at all?” he asked. Vladimir didn’t respond at first, but then Anna heard him sit down too.
“Old man, two can play at your games,” he said. “Ilona, get in here and bring little Vlad. I want to show my father how much he can’t have.”
Ilona came in, cautiously, her left eye bruised, carrying her baby. “Take off your blouse,” instructed Vladimir, and Ilona carefully shifted her baby around until she had removed her shirt. Anna could see out of the corner of her eye that Ilona’s breasts and body were fatter, rounder than they had been. She was no longer pregnant, but she still looked it. “See those breasts, old man,” growled Vladimir. “Those breasts suckle my son, and you can’t have them. Take off your skirt.” He addressed this last to Ilona, who gingerly slipped it off. She was wearing no underpanties either, probably because she had to be at her husband’s beck and call to try and produce another son for him. “Her ass has gotten a little bigger, true, but it’s still tight.” Vladimir slapped Ilona on the ass and she winced in pain but did not make any other sound, afraid of what he might do to her. “But you’ll never know, old man, because you can’t have her. Little Vlad will have her, though. Your grandson will have her long after you’re dead. Think on that, old man. I don’t notice you with any other girls, just your daughter. I could have a girl over here in ten minutes, and make this bitch sit and watch me. You know nothing of obedience.”
Anna’s father’s cock had, despite her ministrations, shrunk as her brother said these things, and now Sergei Ivanovich rose in fury. “No, I know obedience, because that’s what a father is supposed to get from his son!” he shouted. “I gave you life, I should be able to have anything of yours! If I wanted your cow, I should be able to have her! If I want to dash your whelp’s brains out on the wall, you should let me and thank me for it! You ungrateful…” His words were cut off as Vladimir punched him.
Anna hid under the table and heard rather than saw the struggle going on above. The two men crashed into walls, into chairs, smashed china and spilled food and drink to the floor. Then there was a great smash, a thud, and Anna looked out horrified to see the staring eyes of her brother lying on the floor beside her. His face was bloody and more blood came from his head, pooled on the ground and reached out toward her. He was dead.
Terrified, she scrambled out, away from the blood and the body, and heard screaming in the kitchen. It was two voices, Ilona and little Vladimir. She rushed in to find the baby on the floor, forgotten for the moment, and her father roughly dragging Ilona by the hair over to the table. Anna couldn’t move; she was in shock. She watched the scene unfold as if from far away: her father pulling out his cock, driving it without comment into Ilona’s struggling backside, clouting her hard when she tried to escape, fucking her feverishly like he was proving something. He didn’t see her, didn’t see anything but the woman screaming under him, didn’t feel anything but the rough slapping of flesh, the tension of a terrified cunt. Anna slowly, without really contemplating the result, knelt beside the crying baby and lifted it into her arms, gingerly shushed its crying. But she couldn’t turn away.
Eventually Sergei Ivanovich cried out, a harsh, guttural noise, and stilled deep in Ilona’s cunt, and Anna could imagine the thick, ropey jets of semen spewing into her. Ilona was too hurt to cry, to scream, to do anything more than slump over the table as her father-in-law pulled out. “Anna, clean me up,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world to say. She obeyed, tasting blood, sweat, and semen on his cock. He didn’t seem to notice that she was holding the baby. “Come on, I’ve grown tired of being in this house of ingrates,” her father said finally. “Give the whelp back to his mother. By rights I should smash his head in, teach my bastard son a lesson. When he comes to, he’ll know I had my way with the cow.”
“Father…” began Anna, not sure why she was even speaking.
“Shut up, girl, get your things,” he growled.
The walk home was dreadful. Anna was horrified when her father dragged her off the road outside of town and roughly pulled her skirt up. “The cow wasn’t enough,” he laughed harshly. “No wonder he’s jealous. You, little mother, you’re better than that.” He plunged his cock into her, but all she could see was the dead eyes of her brother staring at her in a pool of blood. She didn’t realize when he had finished, and he dragged her up again roughly, then threw her down to clean him.
When they got home, Sergei Ivanovich went to bed, shockingly, leaving Anna alone with her thoughts. Or with only one thought. Her father had killed her brother, and he didn’t even know.
In the morning, Anna wasn’t surprised when she was awakened with a slap and a cock in the face. She was used to it. But as her father flipped her over in the bed and got behind her, there was a knocking at the door.
Leave a Reply