Uncle J turned his attention back to my exposed pussy, panties bunched to one side. I just shaved a few days ago, so the bare skin was visibly red and raw from the friction of rubbing against him. I winced as my pussy moved against the rough material of his pants. He looked delighted at the sight of my discomfort.
"Is it hurting, baby girl?"
"A little..." I shifted my weight uncomfortably.
"I think I can help with that." Uncle J spit a large glob of saliva onto his fingers, and proceeded to spread it onto my raw pussy. He gently massaged my clit with long, slow strokes. Defeated, I made no attempt to stop him. His spit delivered a cooling relief to my burning clit. The slow strokes of his thick fingers are a soothing comfort after the rough treatment earlier.
Uncle J was the first person to lay his eyes and hands on my breasts and pussy. This made me extremely self-conscious. Feeling his violation everywhere now made my face redden in shame, which he seemed to enjoy.
"Stand up." He ordered after a while.
I gingerly eased myself off the couch and stood in front of him. Pulling my skirt back down and crossing my arms over my opened blouse. He stood up and stripped naked. I've never seen Uncle J without his shirt on before. He was well-built for a 56 year old. Broad shoulders, abs and as much as I tried to look everywhere but at his crotch, I couldn't help but notice his massive hard cock. It looked 9-inches long, or 8 at least, it was thick, veiny and circumsized. He shaved so it looked even bigger. My eyes widened and I bit my lips in fear, unsure of what's coming next.
Uncle J sat back down and ordered, "Now kneel down, Dahlia."
For a moment, my eyes flickered to the front door, thinking if I could just make a run for it. Uncle J noticed this and smirked.
"I wouldn't think about leaving."
He reached for the TV remote and switched it on. From the TV behind me, I heard squeaks, pleads and moans. I turned. The screen showed a man on this very couch, his face blocked by a petite girl straddling him with his hands tightly gripping her hips. They were grinding obscenely against each other. But I could hear the girl crying and pleading him to stop.
"No!" I whispered to myself in horror as it slowly dawned on me that the girl on TV was me. Uncle J had secretly recorded what he did to me. I looked around and saw the blinking red light of a small camcorder placed unassumingly among clutter on the TV console.
The noise of the playback grew louder and louder and the grinding picked up speed. The girl went stiff, well,
I
went stiff, my back arched backwards. A long moan could be heard and for a moment my face could be seen. Uncle J paused the video right there.
"I'm sure you wouldn't want me to send this video to your parents now, would you?"
"Or maybe you'd like me to upload it to a porn site?" He threatened.
Fighting back more tears, I shook my head silently.
"So, you will do as you're told?"
Eyes downcast, I nodded.
"I can't hear you, Dahlia." He sneered.
"Yes Uncle J, I'll do as I'm told." I whimpered.
"Good girl. Now, take off your blouse and skirt."
Shaking, I removed off my clothes as ordered, leaving my bra and panties on.
Uncle J reached for my bra and ripped it off with one hard pull. The straps dug painfully into my skin as they were ripped apart. Not expecting that, I gasped and my arms sprung up to cover my chest.
"Arms by your side, Dahlia."
Reluctantly, I forced my arms down.
"Now, take off your panties, face the front and sit on my lap."