Sandra nodded her head in agreement, her body shuddering beneath me. I sent a second finger into her cunt, and pressed inward with force. She cried out in shock. “Is that a ‘yes’”? I demanded.
“Yes!” Her voice was so weak I could hardly hear her, though her lips were only inches from my ears.
“I can’t hear you”, I said.
“Yes!” she hissed.
With that, I shoved a third finger into her as far as it and the other two would go. Sandra’s body jerked, and she yelped in shock.
“Mom!” Megan cried from the bed. “What’s he doing to you!?”
“Nothing, baby!” her mother cried back. Her eyes were wide open in fear as she stared up toward the ceiling, feeling my fingers exploring the depths of her womanhood.
“You’re going to be a great piece of ass, baby, do you know that?” Our eyes locked as my fingers probed her depths. Her wild breathing had calmed somewhat, but the look of fear and hatred in her eyes were there to stay.
Slowly I removed my fingers from her cunt, then withdrew my hand from beneath her leotards. She watched me as I licked my fingers. I then stood. My penis was huge inside my pants. I stepped back, not wanting her to try to land a kick anywhere close to the jewels.
I looked over to where Megan lay on the bed, her naked body now covered with the sheet. Her sobbing had subsided. She stared back at me with wide, frightened eyes. I smiled and winked at her.
I looked back at her mother on the floor, disheveled with her sweatshirt hiked up, slowing her flat tummy, and her leotards pushed down on her hips. “Get up!” I commanded. Slowly, Sandra obeyed me. She now stood six feet from me. “Take off your clothes!”
The woman stared at me in an uncomprehending way. “But…but…” she stuttered. “Not here,” she said weakly. “Not in front of….” Her voice trailed off.
“Take off your fucking clothes!” I yelled.
“Nooo!” she cried. “Not here!”
I walked over to the foot of the bed and yanked the sheet off Megan’s naked body. Both the girl and her mother gasped. “Take your clothes off, bitch, or little Megan here pays the price!”
Sandra’s jaw dropped as she stared at me in disbelief. She acted as if she were frozen. I took another step until I was standing beside her daughter’s head. I grabbed a handful of the girl’s long, blonde hair and lifted her head off the mattress.
“No!” her mother screamed. I stared at her, still holding her daughter’s head by the hair. The girl’s body writhed on the bed, her knees tightly together, her ankles bound with handcuffs. With eyes tightly shut, the girl seemed to be testing the shackles that were binding her wrists to the horizontal bar at the head of the bed, only to confirm that she was, indeed, being firmly held in place.
Then, more softly, the girl’s mother again said “No. Leave her alone”, and with that her hands went to her sweatshirt. I continued to hold the girl’s head by her hair as her mother slowly pulled the sweatshirt up and over her head. Holding the sweatshirt in her hand, her sports bra slightly askew but still containing her breasts, Sandra stared defiant daggers at me. I saw for the first time that a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth where I had slapped her. She let the sweatshirt drop to the floor at her feet. “Get away from her!” she hissed.
I let the girl’s head drop to the mattress and stepped away. I then nodded to the woman to continue. Slowly, Sandra leaned down and took her cross training shoes off, together with the ankle height white socks on her feet. Standing straight again, her face was flushed from having bent over. I was fascinated by her beauty. “You’re gorgeous when you’re mad,” I said, but Sandra only stared at me as if I were some sort of despicable scum. Imagine that!
I looked to see if Megan was watching, but her head was turned away and her eyes had shut. Looking back at her mother, I didn’t have to tell her to continue this time. Slowly, with telltale tears now trickling down her cheeks, she pushed her leotard downward over her hips and let it drop to the floor, and then stepped out of it.
Sandra now stood before me clad only in her sports bra and panties. They were black and contrasted nicely with her smooth skin. She stood defiantly before me. Her shoulders were squared back like an army officer’s, but were caressed by the type of dark blonde hair that few army officers possess. The same hair cascaded around her tear and blood stained face, framing it beautifully. Her erect bearing was the very essence of dignity amid what was for her an unspeakable crisis. She looked spectacular.
“Turn around,” I told her. Slowly, knowing she had no choice, she did as I commanded. From the rear she looked equally stunning. My eyes travelled from her feet up the back of her legs, pausing where her panties hugged the buns of her well toned ass. I could tell this woman worked out a lot. My eyes continued up her back. Her hair looked very sexy from the rear.
“Lose the bra!” I told her. The woman hesitated only a moment. Tentatively, as she stood with her back to me, she reached behind her back and my eyes watched in fascination as her fingers undid the clasp that held her bra straps together. Slowly she let the black undergarment fall to the floor, leaving her long, graceful back naked before my eyes.
Then it seemed that she was waiting for further instructions. “Go on! What the fuck are you waiting for!” With no hesitation now, she quickly pushed her panties off her hips and slid them down her lovely legs.
Sandra now stood naked before me, her back to me. I turned my head to see if her daughter was watching. She was not. Her head lay facing away from us. “Hey, Megan,” I said, “You should hope you look this good when you’re your mom’s age.”
“Don’t you even talk to her you fucking pervert!” the mother hissed vehemently as she faced away from me. Chuckling, I turned my attention back to her.
“Put your hands behind you head!” My voice was firm, menacing. She obeyed me. “Now… keep your hands where there are…and turn around…slowly.”
A long hesitation followed. “I said ‘slowly’, I didn’t mean like a fucking snail!” I snarled.
With great reluctance showing in her body language—her naked body language–the woman did as I commanded, turning on her heels, steadily keeping her balance with her hands behind her head, until she faced me. She glanced quickly in her daughter’s direction—undoubtedly to see if the girl was seeing her mother in this moment of total humiliation and indignity. I followed her glance and saw that Megan’s head was still turned away from us. She was sobbing softly.
“You should look at your mother, Megan,” I said. “You should hope you’re this hot and beautiful in twenty years.” I turned back to Sandra, who stood naked before me with her hands behind her head. “Put your feet wide apart!” My voice was shaking with lust.
Sandra glared daggers of hatred at me. “You…fucking…bastard!” Her words came in staccato bites through clenched teeth. “You fucking miserable piece of shit!” She spit the words so hard that spittle now trickled down her chin, joining tears that were now rolling down her cheeks freely.
“Some of what you say is true,” I replied. “I might be a piece of shit, and I definitely will be fucking very soon. But I’m not a bastard. My father actually married my mother. And I’m definitely not miserable. I’m enjoying myself immensely”.
The woman did not seem to find my wit amusing. “Spread your feet apart like I said, or Megan here is going to get my fist up her vagina.”
With no other choice, the woman slowly obeyed my command, moving her left foot well away from her right one. Her eyes went off into space over my shoulder. Tears streaming down her face gave lie to a certain defiant bearing that she was trying desperately to maintain as she stood helpless in the presence of an attacker who held all the cards.
My eyes devoured her as she stood there before me in full frontal nudity, hands behind her head, legs spread. This woman was definitely still in her prime. Her breasts, nicely lifted by the way her arms were positioned, were exquisite. I knew from groping them earlier that they were real. Her tummy had the firmness and flatness of an athlete. A small tuft of blonde pubic hair was like a halo at the juncture between her spread legs. My mind raced back to that afternoon four days prior when I first spotted her and her daughter in the shopping mall where they both stood out from the throng of other shoppers with their beauty and grace. And now I had both of these exquisite females naked and under my control! The blood rushing to my penis left me somewhat weak in the knees as I began to unbutton my shirt.
The woman watched me like a caged animal as I began to take off my own clothes. With her hands still behind her head and her feet still spread wide apart as she stood maybe eight feet in front of me, I saw her glance desperately around the bedroom, searching for something. Anything. But there was nothing that could save her. After removing my shirt I lowered my pants and underwear together, allowing my massive penis to gain its freedom and stand erect in all its unfurled glory. The woman took a furtive glance at my manhood, but then her eyes shot back up quickly to meet mine. There was an intoxicating look of fear and hatred in those eyes.
It was when I was stepping out of my pants that she sprang. With three quick steps she was at the bedside table from which she grabbed a tall, sturdy reading lamp. Half out of my pants, I stumbled before I could get to her. Yanking the lamp from the table, pulling its cord from the wall socket as she did so, she stepped toward me, swinging the lamp at my head violently. I ducked and the vicious blow missed my head by inches. The bitch would have killed me had that blow landed. At the very least I would have been knocked senseless and wouldn’t have awakened until a SWAT team was dragging my ass off to fifty years in the state pen and the receiving end of butt rape.
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