“Megan!” she yelled, looking up the stairs.
“Hello, Sandra,” I said. The woman whirled around. At first she might have thought I was a friend of her daughter’s, but she quickly saw I was too old for that. “Who are YOU!?” When I didn’t answer, she said “Where’s my daughter!?”
I shrugged. “The answer to your first question is not important right now. The answer to your second question is: your daughter’s upstairs. She’s waiting for you.”
The woman looked at me dumbly. Slowly, something dawned on her. “Megan?” she cried out, but her voice cracked. Stumbling on weak knees, the woman ran up the stairs two at a time. I quickly followed her, and watched as she ran into Megan’s room. Finding it empty, she ran down the hallway to the master bedroom. As I came after her, the woman had stopped in the doorway of the master bedroom, frozen at the sight she saw.
Her precious teenage daughter’s totally nude body lay on the far side of the large, king size bed. The girl’s arms were above her head, her wrists handcuffed to the horizontal bed head rail. Her ankles were cuffed together, and a round ball gag was stuffed in her mouth, the kind that was used on Bruce Wilson and Ving Rhames in Pulp Fiction.
After a speechless moment, the mother cried out “Megan!” her voice cracking. “Oh, baby! My baby!” She ran to the far side of the bed. Megan looked up at her mother with wide, scared eyes. She mumbled something through the ball gag.
Once she got to the bedside, it was suddenly as if Sandra didn’t know what to do. She clasped her hands together close to her chest, her body shaking uncontrollably. She looked up to see me in the doorway. “You bastard!” she cried. “Have you hurt my baby?!” She lay down beside the girl, as if covering her naked body from my view. She reached for the girl’s wrists that lay stretched above her head, but saw that she was powerless to do anything about the handcuffs that held those wrists firmly to the bed rail.
Sandra pulled the gag from her daughter’s mouth. “Baby, oh my baby, are you okay?” she managed to ask between sobs. The girl did not reply, she only cried softly as her mother hugged her.
The mother then sat up on the bed and again looked at me. An expression of rage and pure, unadulterated hatred rolled across her face like a dark cloud. “What have you done to my daughter?” she demanded.
“She’s still technically a virgin, if that’s what you mean. She does a pretty good blow job, though.” The woman starred at me, speechless. “You’ve done a great job of parenting, Sandra,” I continued. “I mean, let’s face it, there aren’t too many sixteen-year-old virgins out there these days. At least, she says she’s a virgin. I did a gyno exam on her and couldn’t really tell, but then I’m no doctor.”
“Get out of here!” the woman finally commanded, her voice firm.
“Sandra. Come on, we’ve been waiting for you to join the party.”
The woman quickly reached for the bedside telephone. I watched her, a smile on my lips, as she discovered the phone line was dead. She slowly put the phone down and stood. She looked at me like a cornered cat would look at the thing that had cornered it, and I could see the realization dawning on her that she had make a tactical blunder by running into a dead end alley. Instead of hurrying up the stairs and into her bedroom at the first sense of concern for her daughter, she should have attempted an escape from the house while still downstairs. Her instinctive concern for her little girl had simply been too strong, and she hadn’t thought the situation through. And now, Sandra McFarland knew that she was suddenly in a world of trouble.
“Look,” she said calmly, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you can’t get away with this. So why don’t you just go on and get out of her right now? Just go. I won’t even call the police, just get out of here and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
As she was saying this, I walked over to a heavy easy chair that was near the door and moved it over to the door, effectively barricading it. This way I could leave the woman loose in the room, and if she made a run to get out, whatever I was doing I could easily catch her before she managed to move the heavy barricade sufficiently to get through the door.
“I would hate to leave now,” I said as I finished my task. “Before our little party has even started?”
The woman glared at me. If looks could kill, my blood would already have been soaking the bedroom carpet. “A party!” she spat. “Over my dead body!” She then reached for a sheet and pulled it over her daughter, covering the girl’s nakedness.
“Mommy?!” the girl cried.
“That’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay,” Sandra said calmly, but her voice was shaky now. I watched her as her eyes searched the room for a weapon but, unfortunately for her, the interior decorator had apparently not allowed for a hidden gun cache.
I walked toward where the mother stood beside the bed and her prone daughter. I as moved close, the woman attacked me, swinging and kicking violently. This was where I was going to find out if this bitch was a black belt or something. I blocked her blows with little effort and landed a solid punch in her stomach. She went down like a ton of bricks, writhing on the floor at my feet, the wind gone from her lungs. So much for my concern regarding her martial arts training. From the bed, young Megan screamed. This was the first loud utterance she had been able to make since I had stuck the ball gag in her beautiful mouth maybe a half hour earlier.
Sandra lay on the carpeted floor gasping for air. I lay down on top of her. My hands raced under her oversized sweatshirt and groped her breasts through her snug sports bra. I remembered how beautiful she had looked that first moment I had seen her in the mall. How classy and elegant she had been. Here she was now, on the floor of her bedroom, with my eager hands feeling that beauty, that classiness, that elegance.
As Sandra struggled to regain her breathing, I nuzzled her neck, drinking in her scent, her essence. From the bed I could hear Megan sobbing.
The woman squirmed desperately beneath my weight. She got an arm free from my grasp and swung at my face, but it was a weak attempt that did not land. I allowed her to struggle, wanting her to wear herself out. Finally I put my entire weight upon her, effectively pinning her to the carpeted floor; however, the bitch sank her teeth into my forearm. I cursed in pain, and then slapped her solidly in the face with the hand of my other arm, causing her jaws to go limp and allowing me to yank my forearm away from her fucking teeth.
I then elbowed her hard in her stomach, knocking newly regained air out of her lungs and leaving her a helpless mass of flesh beneath my weight.
“You fucking bitch!” I hissed at her, my mouth close to her ear. “Listen up, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you and your little girl do you understand me?” She grimaced in pain beneath me as my hands ravaged her body beneath her clothes. I fisted her hair and pulled the back of her head toward her shoulders. This pushed her chin up and left her bare neck exposed to my other hand. The fingers of my other hand encircled her neck. “Do you hear me, honey? I would have fucked little Megan already, but I wanted you to have the honor of watching me do it! Anyway, if you two behave real well, I promise I won’t hurt either of you too badly. Do you understand?”
From the bed I could her Megan’s sobs. Still gasping and cringing in pain, Sandra was slowly regaining the ability to speak. As my weight lay upon her, pinning her to the floor, she gasped, “Okay, okay, look” she gasped. “Do what you want to do with me, but please, don’t touch my daughter. I beg you.” She said this almost whispering in my ear, quietly, so her daughter would not hear.
“Yeah?” I said, kissing her eyes, tasting the saltiness of the tears that had formed there.
“Yes,” she whispered, still gasping for air. “I’ll do whatever you want, just leave my little girl alone. She’s only sixteen for god’s sake!”
“Will you suck my cock?” I whispered back to her.
There was a pause. Breathing deeply, her pulse rushing, her face flushed red, the woman winced visibly. “Yes! Anything. Just leave her alone. Please. Oh, for the love of god, please!!”
“Will you spread your legs for me like a whore?”
Sandra’s face contorted in a tight grimace. My hand squeezed her breast hard through the sports bra. “Yes.” Her voice was a whimper.
“Yes what? Say it,” I whispered to her as my tongue licked her ear, penetrating her ear as far as it could. “Say ‘I’ll be your whore’”. My hand squeezed her tit hard through the sports bra.
Her face still in its tight grimace, she repeated after me in a hoarse whisper, “I’ll be your whore”.
As I continued to pin her to the floor with my body and my left arm, my right hand forced its way underneath the sports bra and took possession of the soft flesh of her breast. Totally, one hundred percent natural tit. No silicone here. What one saw—and felt—was what one got.
“But not in front of her,” the woman gasped as my hand roughly massaged her tit and pinched her nipple. “Take me to another room. Please. I’m begging you for the love of god. I’ll give you anything you want, but not in front of my little girl!” With that she began to cry, tears streaming down her cheeks.
My hand left her tit and roamed down her flat stomach, and then worked its way under the waist band of the lycra leotards. As she squirmed beneath me, my fingers quickly found her womanhood. I kissed her neck as my index finger deftly entered her pussy. My knee was planted firmly between her legs, preventing her from closing them and denying this assault upon her sex.
“Okay,” I whispered, my face pressed against hers. “We’ve got a deal. You be a good girl and fuck me real good, I don’t touch your daughter. I mean, you fuck me back like I’m your goddamned boyfriend or something, and your little girl gets to keep her virginity. Okay?”
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