Breaing a Bitch

I realize that the first two chapters are fairly short. I'll make longer ones after this one, I promise.

This story contains scat and incest content as well as BDSM and heavy violence. I have warned you.

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"Daddy, you can't be serious!" Jade rasps, incredulous as our father easily spreads her filthy legs apart in a swift motion, his strong, heavily bicep- and triceped arms proving heavily superior to any and all force she has left in her trembling thighs. Her screams get louder and shriller as she struggles against him. And we both quickly tire of her voice.

Her eyes widen as he lifts her from the ground, as if she were as light as a feather, and forcibly pounds her face into the hard oak floor -once, twice, trice, so many times- until her painful protests weaken and stop. She slumps down with a thud and he rolls her over, revealing her bloodied, scraped, and splinter-stuck face. Aroused and shocked yet again, I can feel the blood rushing toward my prick again. Always such a loving father, he was. And I was always such a tolerant, doting older brother. But, I guess everyone reaches their breaking point at some time in their lives. I wonder momentarily when he reached his, but, shrug it off. What does it matter now?

"Oh, look at that. Seems like your sister needs some rest. Maybe we should take her to bed." he smirks at me. I nod in agreement, noting that both our cocks are fully erect again, his being about two or three inches longer than my seven-incher and much more superior in girth. I can't tell whether I'm jealous or impressed or aroused by this. Or all three.

I grip her legs and Dad maneuvers her dead weight onto his toned and muscled back from there. As we make our way to the master bedroom, I can't help but notice my father's firm, powerful-looking buttocks, one raising as the other falls while he continues to stroll so casually through the upstairs hallway. I can picture myself cupping them in my hands while pleasuring him in so many ways. And almost as if he can read my mind, he halts mid-step and releases a booming, heavily wet and nasty-sounding fart right in front of me, right into Jade's dangling, unconscious face. It dominates the house for about an entire minute and a half and echoes for about thirty seconds before things are silent again. I am quickly overcome by the direct and hostile stench of my father's very manly gas emission. It is nothing like the sweetly pungent odor of my sister's flatulence. No, this is the stench of a matured, dominant man. A stench that demands you to succumb to it's absolute rankness and eye-watering denseness. I greedily inhale it, drunk once again but to a greater extent than before. I'm barely aware that I'm masturbating until I'm already ejaculating, knees shaking as I fall to my knees, eyes rolling into the back of my head in heated ecstacy.

"Oh, Daddy!" I exclaim, lustfully, never once before thinking I'd ever being saying that to him, in that way, in this position, my entire life. An impressive fountain of cum erupts from my johnson as I collapse, some of it spraying onto the back of Jade's head and my father's wondrous ass.

A roar of deep-throated laughter erupts from my father's lips as he continues to stroll down the hallway, not even bothering to look back at me. And this causes me to become even more aroused. Maybe I'm more submissive than I previously thought. I stand on wobbly legs and follow him, surprised that my erection is back and raging yet again, as if it had never diminished at all.

We reach the master bedroom, really his bedroom, and he lays her body down on the dark blue comforter. He then disappears into the other room and I take a moment to marvel at Jade's beauty. Such full lips and perky little wine-glass breasts. A wonder how she kept herself a virgin for so long. I try not to look at her wound for too long because even though I've already crossed the line of morality, a small part of me is still ashamed and screaming at the bigger, more sadistic and lustful part of me to stop right now and leave, taking Jade with me and never letting this happen again.

But, I know I won't listen to this voice. And that is the worst part about it all. That I know I'm going to do the wrong thing. And I'm starting to care less and less about that fact.

Dad returns carrying two very large cardboard boxes with absolute ease. He sets them on the floor and then looks at me with an almost evil glint in his eye that makes me wary about my own presence in his room.

"You think we should clean her up before we start or not?" he asks me.

"I don't know. Probably. Because we need to clean that wound anyway." I tell him as I glance at her again. He snorts as if I've just said something ridiculous.

"Yeah, I'm sure that really matters right now. What do you think we're gonna do with her, Mike? Play fucking dress up?"

"Well, you aren't going to seriously injure her, are you?"

And in that moment, he gives me the most psychotic, evil fucking grin I've ever seen in my entire life. Taking a shocked step backwards, I just stare at him, wide-eyed. What exactly does my father have planned? And more importantly, who is this horrible man who stands before me? Could he really be my father?

"D-Dad, you..."

"You know, Mike, I always knew you were a little chicken-shit faggot, but, I was hoping you'd changed since you were a kid. Though you've always looked much too effeminate, you built up muscle and started fucking loads of little creamies. You could get any girl you wanted and that made me proud. Even though I knew you'd be useless at any type of sport besides maybe running or baseball, I was thoroughly impressed by your sexual prowess. Used those pretty little boy looks to your advantage somehow. But, now you're acting like a little bitch about one little girl. So, are you as much of a queer as I thought you were before? Or are you gonna man up and fuck your sister with me?"

"You're sick. You're seriously fucked in the head. This is your daughter you're talking about! And she's only nineteen!" I shout at him, feeling nauseous and light-headed. That's all my father thought of me? As a worthless pretty boy queer? I can almost feel tears welling up in my eyes. What exactly am I doing here? What did I get Jade and I into?

He slams me up against the door, crushing my arms with his massive paws, breathing right into my face, glaring a hole into my eye sockets with those beady black irises of his. The eyes of a sociopath.

"Don't act all high and mighty, you little bitch. She's your sister, in case you forgot. You fucking raped her first. You were turned on by her shitting all over you, weren't you? You screamed in her face and ripped off her clothes. You didn't protest when I busted her fucking face open. Not to mention how fucking horny you got when I farted, you nasty little pig. You're just as fucked up as I am. Whether you'll admit it or not is irrelevant. Because if you don't do this with me, you'll be in the same position as your bitch sister." he snarls in my face, his face contorted into a furiously ugly twist as he does so, the grotesque stench of garlic and spinach emanating from his yellowed teeth. I feel my nausea returning full-force as I violently vomit all over my monster-of-a-father's broad chest, my throat lining thoroughly burned as I grow faint and stumble forward.

"You fucking cocksucker! You've made your choice now!" he screams at me as his grip on my arms tightens to an extremely painful point. He uses his right hand to slam my forehead against the side of the dresser at lightning speed. With every collision, I feel myself black out even further. Until I feel my body go limp as Jade's had before and completely lose consciousness.