After deflowering Zoë Ziegler so vigorously, with payment from her own mother for the deed, I spent over three weeks fucking Katrina Ziegler by day and raping her daughter by night. Zoë always retained her defiance every time I took her, struggling like a feral cat before succumbing to my thrusts and the involuntary pleasure they gave her. She took to locking her bedroom door and sleeping in different rooms to try and evade me, all without success -- she even tried to knee me in the nuts once, after which I anger-raped her with extra ferocity -- and over time her physical resistance began to wear away. I made sure to wear my ski mask every time I attacked Zoë, but couldn't be totally sure she hadn't figured out who I was, or rather who I was pretending to be. In the daytime, Zoë walked around looking far more subdued than her usual self, not even interested in the fact that she was still grounded, and therefore a prisoner in the house at the mercy of her night-time rapist.
Katrina on the other hand was in very high spirits thanks to me. She was even more cock hungry than Zoë's best friend Maria. Two years is a long time to go without a real man's cock inside you, and when I wasn't busy raping her daughter, Katrina had me every time she was able to get me alone. She hadn't had the slightest misgivings about paying me to rape and impregnate her own daughter, and still didn't weeks afterwards; she even laughed when I told her how I anger-raped Zoë after she tried to knee me between the legs.
"Good thing you showed the little brat who's boss, huh?" she remarked flippantly, "Now how about you come over here and show me who's boss?"
I was now carefully considering how long this could go on for. Zoë's spirit was dampened by the nightly physical and sexual subjugation she had to undergo, but hardly broken. She was very unlikely to accept my dominance over her, even with the humiliating experience of being forced to orgasm during every rape, and might try something drastic to make me stop. I didn't want to have to injure her, but I would be forced to if she tried to stab me or ambush me in some way in retaliation for my crimes against her bodily integrity. I may be a rapist, but I do have the honesty to admit to myself that what I do is against the law and usually against my victim's wishes.
I was also beginning to doubt Katrina's motives in all this. Such was Katrina's quasi-sadistic disregard for her own daughter's well-being that I seriously wondered whether she wasn't really setting me up for something. It didn't seem likely that she would go to all the trouble of recruiting me to rape her daughter just to turn me over to the police, especially given that I could and would implicate her in recruiting me to do so if I were ever caught, to say nothing of the abysmally low conviction rates for rape across the United States. Still, it wouldn't hurt to take a few precautions whilst I set up my exit plan.
In any case, I wanted to see my favourite rape victim again. Leah had been the first victim of mine with whom I had stayed for any period of time, and was certainly the first with whom I had developed any sort of attachment. She had come to accept my domination of her body in a way that stoked my masculine instincts to invigorating heights. She didn't fight me every step of the way as Zoë did, a perfectly understandable reaction in any woman, but neither was she a drooling slave eager to be humiliated. She was a free-willed woman; and, more importantly, she was my woman.
Furthermore, I cared about all my children, but only in an abstract way given that I had never met them or provided anything to them beyond remotely sabotaging their mothers' efforts to have them aborted as well as depositing my DNA inside their mothers' to get the ball rolling in the first place. But spending such a length of time with one such mother-to-be, who had never taken the opportunity to run away or slit my throat in the middle of the night, made me feel genuinely attached to her and the child she carried. Indeed, I actually felt responsible for her well-being. I had to go back soon and check up on her.
***
It was near the end of October and I lay on a deck chair in the shadow of the Ziegler mansion, enjoying the early autumn weather. The glorious California sun was slowly fading towards the west, casting a tranquil orange haze over the horizon, and a light breeze wafted through the air. Zoë was inside, perhaps barricading herself inside her bedroom in preparation for the next rape. Katrina, meanwhile, was outside with me, flaunting her swimming skills in the party pool for me to see. She was pretty agile in the water and clearly enjoyed it more than jogging round the neighbourhood. I considered stripping off and ambushing her in the water, but ultimately decided to just watch for now.
Eventually, Katrina finished her swimming exercises and climbed out of the pool, grabbing a towel and drying herself off as she approached me. She was wearing a deliciously skimpy two piece swimsuit, the kind one usually sees on swimwear models, and my manhood rose to attention at the sight of it, as did I.
"Is that a horse cock in your pants, or are you just pleased to see me?" Katrina Ziegler quipped with a prurient smile.
I approached her and manfully grabbed her waist, pulling her in towards me and kissing her hungrily. She dropped the towel and held my head in response as our tongues intertwined, slipping a hand down, and grabbing a handful of my ass as we kissed. After a few moments Katrina broke off the kiss.
"It's getting late," she murmured, "and I still need to pay you for fucking Zoë last night."
As I followed Katrina back to the house I couldn't help but notice that she no longer looked as toned as before. She still strutted with a model's body, but her toned abs had faded considerably over the past few weeks, and there was more flesh visible on her hips and waist. Not that she looked fat, far from it. She just looked fleshier; more statuesque; more...womanly. As we walked into the kitchen, Katrina surprised me by opening the fridge, pulling out some yoghurt, and devouring the entire pack. She was clearly no longer on any kind of diet.
"Not worried about your figure anymore?" I noted casually.
"Nope," was Katrina's laconic response, "besides, I'm gonna get really fat soon, anyway." She looked at me expectantly whilst I decrypted the meaning behind this statement.
"Are you...pregnant?" I ventured.
"Congratulations, Einstein. You're gonna be a daddy." Katrina announced, tossing the empty yoghurts into the rubbish bin.
"Oh, I thought that..." I began tentatively.
"That I was all dried up in there?" Katrina unilaterally finished my sentence, "well, apparently not, handy he-man. And statistically speaking, dumping a pint of cum in a woman's pussy every day for a month straight makes you more likely to give that woman a swollen belly. Do the math and don't be surprised at the numbers you get."
"No, I meant I thought you didn't want any more kids." I corrected her.
"Well, they're a pain to look after when they hit their teens, sure." Katrina conceded, "But despite what I may have said before, there's nothing more amazing than feeling a life grow inside you, and seeing that life emerge from your body. It's the one thing that unites all of womankind: motherhood. I haven't been a very good mom to Zoë, but maybe now we'll have a chance to start over, by going through the same experience together."
