I woke up to a heavy knock on my door, my ass still leaking Aunt Chloe’s cum.
“Ritch!” Stan’s voice hissed at my door.
I stumbled to my feet, crossed the floor, and cracked the door open.
“What?” I whispered.
“Tawnya needs you!” he answered gleefully, grabbed me by the neck, and hauled me, stark naked, through the hallway, his room, and into their bathroom.
Tawnya sat on her porcelain throne, smiling excitedly, as my brother pushed me through the door.
“Come here, pretty boy,” she smiled, my collar resting on her lap.
I crawled over to her and knelt, obediently letting her put the collar around my neck and attach the sturdy chain. She opened her legs and pulled me down to her crotch.
“Clean me,” she whispered, not commanding, but assertive and natural, as if she’d told me to pass her the butter.
Excitedly, I got to work. Her morning pee stung my tongue, and I wished she had emptied herself inside me instead of wasting herself in the bowl.
“Did you enjoy Aunt Chloe last night?” she asked gleefully.
“Mmhmm,” I agreed, busy lapping the inner folds of her pussy.
“She’s quite something, isn’t she?”
“He’s still leaking her cum from his ass, sis! You should see this!” Stan said.
“Oh, you naughty little dog!” Tawnya moaned and ruffled my hair.
I heard Stan move next to me, stretch, and yawn, then his warm piss hit the side of my face and gushed down Tawnya’s pussy, and trickled into the bowl below.
“Thank you, Master Stanley!” I moaned in appreciation and lapped his pee from our sister’s cunt.
His stinging urine was nothing like our sister’s smooth cocktail and had me gagging slightly, but the warm splash was a welcome surprise.
I was instantly hard.
I lapped Tawnya’s pussy once more, cleaning every drop off her, then longingly stared at her clit.
“Yes, dog…you may,” she whispered.
I dove into her pussy and sucked her clit into my mouth, twirled my tongue around it, and kissed it. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into her sweet snatch, rewarding me with a big moan as she clawed my scalp with her fingernails.
“Your Master demands your attention,” she whispered.
I regretfully let go of my sister’s intoxicating sex as Stan offered me his semi-erect cock. Delight filled me as he now was as cleanly shaven as myself. I slurped him inside my greedy mouth and sucked him down my throat, where I felt his fat meat grow. I pushed my head into his crotch and felt his balls against my chin, then let my throat slowly fuck the hardness into him. Oh, so hard.
Tawnya watched with big eyes how I sucked her lover, making him ready for her. She rubbed her fingers over her clit and played with it, then curled her fingers inside her wet, oozing snatch.
Stan pulled himself out of me and laid himself on the floor. Tawnya leaped up and mounted him, then slammed her pussy down on his fat meat. I gathered my work was done and went to find a bathroom to relieve myself, hoping neither Aunt Shelly nor the twins were up yet.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Tawnya panted, looking over her shoulder at me.
“I…I need to pee!”
“Not yet, you don’t.”
She grabbed the chain from the floor and pulled hard at it.
“Watch your brother’s cock slide in and out of me. See how his fat cock stretches my tiny pussy. Oh, I do have a tiny little fuck-hole, don’t I?”
She pulled me down, and Stan spread his legs, allowing me to kneel between them. I watched his cock slide into her, and I watched as he pulled slowly out, his cock wet with Tawnya’s juices. Her pussy was indeed stretched around his fat meat, now only inches away from my face.
I struggled to contain myself; I longed to lick at his shaft and balls, but Master had not permitted or ordered me to.
“You want to lick that shaft, don’t you?” Tawnya teased, “You want to lick my juices off that fat meat, don’t you? You wish it were you he was pounding, don’t you, my little cocksucker?”
Every word was true and accurate.
“Lick my ass. If it helps, close your eyes and imagine it being Aunt Chloe’s. Did she let you lick her ass? Or did she just fuck your boy-cunt?”
I put my hands on Tawnya’s ass, pulled her cheeks apart, and stared at her anus, shifting and stretching as Stan’s cock pushed in and pulled out of her.
I placed the tip of my tongue right at her hole, and she rewarded me with a ‘Good Boy!’ as I started lapping at her ass.
“He’s such a good boy, baby,” she whispered to Stan, “Right now, he’s slobbering over my hole, and now and again, he pokes his tongue to it. Should I let him in?”
“Yeah, Tawnya, let him into that tight, dirty hole of yours,” Stan demanded.
She expertly relaxed her sphincter and let my tongue inside her, and, admittedly, my tongue had developed quite its expertise as it started fucking her hole open.
“Mount me…mount me and fuck my ass!”
“Tawnya…I really need to pee,” I pleaded.
“Obey her!” Stan barked.
“Yes, Master Stanley,” I complied.
There was something strangely empowering mounting my mockingbird and tyrant through eighteen years. Her head down and panting at my brother’s neck, her long black hair a wild and tangled mess after a long night of anything but sleep, cascading on the floor in knots and thickets. Her tiny body squashed between her brothers, and her ass gaping at the tip of my cock, I pushed myself into her, and she moaned loudly, letting me ravage her at her most vulnerable.
“Pull at my hair! Pull my hair, you bastard!” she yelled.
Driven by pure lust, I grabbed her hair and pulled hard at it, releasing years of anger and frustration. Her neck stretched, and her back arched. Stan grabbed her tiny tits in his huge hands and pinched her nipples hard. He used her cunt as a masturbator, hammering fast into her. Her pussy was sloshing around his fat cock. I picked up my pace, thrusting myself into her, my bladder soaring in pain.
“Oh, God! Oh, my fucking God!” Tawnya was ecstatic, and her moans turned into a constant howl.
“Relieve yourself in her!” Stan grunted.
“What?! But…”
“Do as you’re fucking told! Fill her with your piss!”
I pushed myself deep inside her and tried to release myself, but there was a definite miscommunication between my cock and bladder. Sweat formed as I was sure my bladder was going to explode; the pain was running daggers through my gut.
“What are you waiting for? Fill me up!” Tawnya pleaded.
I closed my eyes, and time seemed to stop—a vast void occupied my head, and finally, release.
I arched my back as the floodgate opened and gushed my morning waste deep inside her.
“Fill me up, fill me up, and fuck me! Oh, please fuck me!”
My cock burned deep inside her as she tightened around me, marinating my meat in my pee. I started pounding into her, my golden waters seeping out of her with each thrust.
“I’m cumming! I’m cumming. I’m cumming!” she whimpered, her voice trembling with ecstasy as shivers of pure pleasure tore through her body, her muscles tensed and eased in delightful spasms.
Her pussy gripped Stan’s cock in a greedy hunger, consuming it entirely in her wetness and milking his sperm deep inside her.
Her ass clenched around my cock, and I could not deny her; I exploded inside her and collapsed on top of her. As my cock shriveled inside her, pee and cum gushed out of her ass, a delightful cocktail.
“That…was fantastic,” Tawnya moaned into our brother’s neck, “I had no idea I could cum this hard!”
I made a move to ease myself off her back.
“No. Let’s stay like this for longer. I love being sandwiched between your sweaty bodies, feeling my holes still tremble.”
Her words lingered, hanging in the air. The room filled with our collective panting and the wet sound as Stan’s fat member shrunk and slid out of our sister’s contended and satiated sex.
***
The three of us found our spots at the breakfast table; a familiar pattern had already formed. At each end, the two brothers, Dad and Uncle George, the two men acting like bookends securing the stories of our perverted family.
To my uncle’s right was Chloe, serving the image as a loving wife, her appearance giving no clue to her insatiable sexual appetite or the fact that at her groin lay the most fantastic penis created. Then there was me, nestled between my two dominatrices, Chloe and Tawnya, who sat beside Stan; the chair to his right usually sat empty.
To Dad’s right was Mom, the queen of the household. Beside her, Shaquila and Monique shared their corrupted sisterly bond, Monique demanding and Shaquila obeying. Aunt Shelly usually completed the lineup, but usually at the spot directly at Uncle George’s left. This morning, however, we were joined by Chuck, Dad’s right-hand man, and the essential gear to Sunrise Timber Farm machinery. His expertise and hard work are integral to our success.
In my mind, he stood out as the jagged piece that didn’t fit the perverted jigsaw puzzle that was our family.
Mom smiled at us, relieved that her children had found some common understanding, and finally seemed to share more than insults and bickering.
Sitting directly opposite Tawnya, Monique sent an ice-cold stare across the table at my sister. Then, with a sudden change in demeanor, she flashed Stan a big smile, fluttered her eyelids, and sensually sucked a strawberry into her mouth. Tawnya remained calm, her expression unchanged. She formed her fingers into hooks and made a subtle, deliberate motion as if hooking onto something and tearing it apart.
Monique’s stare bore into her, not in horror this time, but with intense hatred. Yet, she dared not send Stan another invitation. Instead, she channeled anger and frustration toward her sister, shrinking her existence into being her mere servant for the remainder of the meal.
As always, Anabelle served up a magical meal, and for once, we didn’t hastily disperse to attend to our separate activities; instead, we luxuriated in its flavors, savored each moment, and seemed a typical, healthy family preparing for Christmas.
Chuck’s presence was also explained, as Dad wanted me to join him the next day to harvest the Christmas tree. I had known Chuck my entire life and looked forward to spending time with him.
Chloe put her hand on my thigh and smiled at me, then leaned in, bit my earlobe, and whispered, “I need to fuck you again tonight.”
It felt so empowering knowing my aunt desired my ass so deeply, and I smiled at her and whispered a longing yes.
Tawnya squeezed my other thigh for attention and looked up at me with her deep, dark eyes, “I’m leaking so much cum…would you?” she whispered and dropped her fork onto the floor.
“Oh, let me!” I said and slid myself under the table.
I rummaged for her ‘lost’ fork as she spread her legs wide and pulled her skirt up. Her pussy was indeed gushing sperm, no wonder, considering how many times Stan had filled her up the past few days. I lapped up what had pooled at the chair, then ran my tongue up her snatch. The combination of her sweet juices and Stan’s thick, creamy seeds made my head spin. It seemed that with each lick of my tongue, her pussy rewarded me with another fresh load of their cocktail. When her flood finally subsided, I ran my tongue up her slit and sucked her clit hard into my mouth.
“Mmmhmmmm!” I heard her groan out loud as her hand pushed my face off her.
“What’s that, Tawnya? I heard Mom’s voice across the table.
“Nothing, I just thought Chuck’s input on new machinery sounded like a good idea!”
I peered my flustered head up from underneath the table and handed her the fork. Her playful grin reassured me that I was forgiven, but her whispered words also let me know it came with a penalty, “Tomorrow morning, you’re drinking all my pee!”
Finally, people started to disperse. Chuck was the first, citing too many tasks as already late. Mom and Dad followed him to the door and never returned, as their chores distracted them from socializing.
Aunt Chloe and Uncle George followed shortly after.
“If you’ll all excuse us, I must punish my unfaithful husband. Shelly, be a doll and join us, would you?”
The three of us, Monique, Shaquila, and I stared at her, mouths agape, but to Stan and Tawnya, her words had occurred just as naturally as breathing.
All of our eyes stalked their movements as they walked across the floor and headed into the hallway. Our ears spied their footsteps through the hallway, and our senses drank their hurried ascent up the stairs.
I was sure I wasn’t the only one who was turned on by the thought of what was about to happen upstairs. Monique certainly had gained some lustful confidence as she stood up and walked around the table. She looked directly at Stan, ignoring anyone else’s existence.
“When, and mark my words, when you tire of your sister’s scrawny cunt and her small, ugly chest, and when you grow weary of those pathetic, pleading eyes, when you’re ready to be treated by a real woman, come see me. I’ll take you on a joyride you’ll never forget.”
She grabbed Stan’s reluctant hand and placed it under her skirt, guiding it to her slit. With firm pressure, she pressed his hand against herself before releasing him. As Stan withdrew his hand, it glistened with her wetness. She swiftly brought his hand to her mouth and sucked his finger into her mouth.
Then, she turned around and started walking steadfastly toward the hallway. She halted halfway and sent a raging eye at her sister. Shaquila sat silently at the table, her eyes fixed on her empty plate. Tiredness seemed to weigh heavily on her, and her eyes shimmered with sadness as she reluctantly pushed through her inner turmoil and followed her sister. Her head hung low as she trailed behind Monique, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.
“Fucking cunt.”
Tawnya spit the words out, then took Stan’s hand in her own and licked him clean.
“She does taste absolutely fantastic, though.”
***
I had retreated to my room. My nightly escapades and my brutal yet delightful wake-up call had me exhausted. I had adorned myself in Chloe’s underwear and loved the way the string caressed my butthole as I drifted into sleep.
Again, a knock on the door cut my rest short. Not heavy this time, but more like a hurried hush. Before I could answer, Tawnya poked her head in.
“Come, dog, we’re going for a walk!”
Entering the room, I noticed she was wearing her heavy winter overalls. She stopped and gazed at me.
“Oh, nice! Are those a present from Aunt Chloe? I like them, keep them on, but you might want to pull on something slightly warmer. Oh, red is definitely your color!”
I hurriedly put on pants, a sweater, and, finally, socks, which Tawnya had suggested.
“Come, dog, let’s put your collar on!”
Obediently, I walked over to her, and she put my collar around my neck and attached the leash. Then, she kissed me deeply before hastily pulling me through the door.
We rushed down the stairs. Giggling, she helped me put my boots on, and hastily, we crossed the farmyard. Under the awning at the barn, she grabbed my head and kissed me again, “Good boy!”
She flung open the doors to the old slaughterhouse, revealing a dim, cavernous space that smelled faintly of rust and decay. The air was heavy and cool, with a lingering dampness that seeped into my skin. Shadows danced along the cracked concrete floor as she commanded me to light the fireplace.
As I struck a match, she lit the old kerosene lamps, their flickering light casting long, sinister shadows on the walls. Cobwebs draped the corners of the room like tattered curtains, and the ceiling was crisscrossed with iron beams, from which hung chains and hooks, their rusted surfaces glinting dully in the firelight.
She moved swiftly, clearing the clutter from the big, wooden worktable at the center of the room. The table bore deep gouges and dark stains, evidence of its grisly past. Dust motes danced in the lamplight as she brushed debris onto the floor. She then ensured the shutters before the windows were securely drawn, shutting out any prying eyes.
The walls were lined with ancient tools—cleavers, saws, and other implements whose purposes I could only guess at.
“Come, help me with this,” she said and handed me a bag of leather straps, “Nail them down to the table, just like this.”
She fastened them, three in a row, in a line from the middle of the table towards the edge, then seemed to measure out the table in her head before pointing to a spot adjacent to her first strap.
“Here, start here and work upwards, parallel to mine.”
She then checked the chains and hooks hanging from the ceiling, rustling the rusty iron, inspecting their position, and rearranging where needed. She grabbed two coils of rope hanging on the wall next to the fireplace and hung them to one of the hooks above the table. She dressed the dusty table in a sheepskin rug, dusted the old cobwebs hanging down over the table, and studied her work with a sinister smile.
“Yes, this will be perfect!”
Before long, the fire had the room steaming hot, and Tawnya commanded me to undress but leave Aunt Chloe’s panties on.
I watched her pull her overalls off, and she turned to me with a wicked grin. Her red leather corset was not quite tight enough to hug her flat chest but sat tight around her waist and complimented the curvature of her round hips. Her leather panties hugged her sex like a second layer of skin, and if not for the zipper at her crotch, her sex would be seen clearly through the leather.
She rummaged in the cupboard under the window and pulled out her treasure: a pair of bright red leather stiletto boots. Spreading her…
