Our Daughter's Friend

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I suggest reading Part One.

*

"We have to go to Parent's Weekend to see Rosie," Monica told me.

Her tone had the same awkward, forced affectation all our conversations had held for the past months. After the event with Desiree we didn't speak, expressing our mutual fear and shame with our silence. We conversed politely in front of our daughter, and in social situations, but in private we awkwardly avoided each other. When summer ended Rosie had gone back to school for her senior year and we settled into an edgy remoteness, talking only of household needs as though we were roommates instead of the loving spouses we once were.

I don't know what she thought of the events with Desiree, or how she felt; we had never discussed it. For the first few days after that evil, manipulative bitch left our house we hid from each other. As days passed we inevitably saw each other, passed terse words, and eventually settled into this silent agreement that the subject would not be raised, and that we would only talk to each other in public, in front of friends and family, pretending that nothing had happened, nothing had changed. But in private everything had changed. I had no idea who Monica was anymore, having seen a side of her that she had never shown before; a debased, disgusting willing participant in the most frightening sexual event of my history. She scared me, and the conditions that I participated under scared and shamed me.

Truth be told, I was just as frightened by my willingness to participate. Desiree had blackmailed me, sure, but I had gotten excited, and enjoyed the sex. Seeing my wife acting so sexually had aroused me, and I was ashamed of my participation. And I had too easily surrendered to the idea of fucking a young college girl. I tried unsuccessfully to convince myself that I had been forced to participate, but I knew in my heart that I enjoyed it, and the desire scared the hell out of me.

"Why?" I asked. "We haven't gone in two years. We went her first year of school; that's what parents do." I avoided her eyes as I spoke. I still couldn't look at her without seeing Desiree's Pet, the woman who willingly choked on my cock, and licked my cum from her Mistress's young pussy.

"I already told her we'd go," she replied meekly.

"You told Rosie we'd go?" I snapped angrily. "Without discussing it with me first?" We were eating dinner, and I slammed my fork down. "What the hell, Monica?" I looked at her, feeling the anger on my face, and she winced as she saw my expression. "Why would you do that without asking me?"

"She -- she told me to..." she trailed off.

"Rosie told you to come up?"

Monica lowered her head, her hands in her lap. I couldn't see her face, but when I opened my mouth to keep yelling I saw her shoulders trembling, and my anger softened a little. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. "My -- my -- my Mistress..."

"Your WHAT!?!" I bellowed.

She raised her head then, looked at me, and steeled her nerve. "My Mistress told me to tell Rosie we were coming up. So I did." As much as she had screwed her courage to say the words, her lip trembled, and her hands came to the table, shredding her napkin. "I'm sorry, Roy. She called. She told me we have to come to see her, and to tell Rosie we were coming."

"Fuck!" I screamed, and slammed my fork down on the table.

"I couldn't say no," she continued, pleading for my understanding. "I couldn't. I tried, but she, she" she paused, took a breath. A tear trickled down her cheek, and I remembered her, crying as she licked Desiree's shaved pussy. "She Ordered me." I could hear the importance the words held for her as she said it.

"God damn it, Monica!" I blasted as I stood and knocked my chair over. I felt the fear, then; the terror of the young girl's power over us, the seductive and manipulative control she wielded. She had seen something in my wife that I had never known; a desire to be controlled and commanded, a willingness to do unspeakably debasing sexual things, and she'd used it, and blackmailed me into participating, seducing and threatening me into the hottest and most frightening sex I'd ever had. She had left our lives a shambles, and now she was back. In a phone call she had turned my wife against me.

We talked late into the night; me berating her for her weakness, she alternately defending and apologizing for the same. She begged me to go along, telling me she needed to see her, but I insisted we resist, that we defy her, break ourselves free. In the end I turned her to my side. We would go, we would see our daughter, and we would stand up to this seductress Desiree. If need be we would confess to Rosie what had happened, and take her friend's power over us away. Time and distance from the event that afternoon had given me courage, fired by my anger, but I needed Monica with me, standing strong against a seemingly harmless college student. In the end I got her commitment that she could resist, WOULD resist, and would stand with me.

And so a few months later we found ourselves pulling into a hotel parking lot near the college and unloading our bags for the weekend. Monica moved in silent trepidation, while I had boundless nervous energy. We had spoken sparingly on the ride up; the only words passed between us were to bolster our resolve to end this debacle. We had arrived a day early, not telling Rosie, so that we could confront Desiree and lay down the law. We settled into the room and after arranging our clothes, I volunteered to go get us some takeout while she cleaned up after the trip.

I was back in under an hour to find the hotel room empty. Monica's cell phone lay on the center of the still-made bed, blinking a new text message. I flipped it open to see:

MESSAGE FROM: MISTRESS ROY. CALL ME

In a panic, I dropped the phone. My chest tightened and I began gasping for breath. Had she kidnapped Monica? I immediately thought of calling the police, but when I considered what I would say to them, I discarded the idea. "Officer, this girl, she kidnapped my wife," I would tell them, "to force her to have kinky sex." They would ask how I knew that, and even if I lied, I would have to admit what had happened at our house, even if I said that she blackmailed us both. How, they would ask. I would have to tell them something. And then when they found her, Desiree would tell her side, how my wife went to her willingly. Could I count on Monica to stand with me, to swear to my lies? And how would I explain that the girl's phone number was in my wife's cell listed as 'mistress'? There would be public announcement, a scandal. I was willing to tell Rosie what had happened, but I didn't want our family publicly humiliated.

I frantically tossed the options back and forth in my head for almost another hour. Finally, feeling trapped and defeated, at least for the moment, I picked up the cell and dialed.

"Hello, Roy. It's nice to hear from you." Her voice dripped with antagonism.

"Where is she!" I barked. "What have you done with Monica?"

"Relax, baby, she's fine. She's with my friends." I wondered what kind of friends this girl had, then remembered that our daughter was friends with her. "Do you want to see her? Come and see me, we have some things to discuss."

"You release her right now, or-"

"Or what, Roy? Or you'll tell your daughter about what I've done with you and my little pet?" There was silence as I wondered how she knew, then felt crushed as she continued. "Do you think my pet hasn't told me your plans?" I heard her snicker derisively. "Come to me, Roy. We will talk, and you will see your wife. I will send the directions to Monica's phone." She disconnected. In a few seconds the phone chirped with driving instructions.

Confused and desperate, I stumbled to the car and followed the directions to a house a few miles from campus. As I came to the door it opened, and Desiree was there, that evil seductive grin I remembered glowing on her face.

"Roy! Good boy, you got here quickly. Come inside." She was dressed casually, in jeans and a tee shirt, and her young body strode confidently as I followed her inside. I fought against recognizing the seductive attraction of the young girl's body. We sat in the living room and she offered me a bottled water. I took it and drank, not realizing till then that I was parched. I looked around the room as I drank. It was obviously a student rental house, the mismatched furniture and décor an obvious collection of salvaged and discarded pieces.

She sat on the couch across from me, and curled a leg underneath her, lowering her head and looking at me with hostility and disdain from under lowered brows. "You've disappointed me, Roy. You disobeyed my instructions, and squandered my gift. You've made me very angry." I said nothing, resisting her efforts to control me, concerned for Monica's safety. "Worse than that, you conspired against me, and tried to turn my little Pet against me. That was bad, Roy. Very bad." She grinned. "Fortunately your wife was obedient enough to fill me in on your little plot, so I was able to work around it. She is reaping her reward for her loyalty, like a good pet." Her grin became sinister. "Did you really think you could defeat me, Roy? Did you really think you could take her from me?" She laughed then, a short, bitter sound coming from someone so young. "You don't know who you're up against, any more than you know your own wife!"

"Where is she?" I demanded. "I want to see her, now."

Her voice became angry and sharp. "Easy, Roy," she snapped. "She's fine. You'll see her soon. You just cool your jets a little while, so we can straighten things out between us. You have some things to answer for!"

"I won't succumb to your will," I insisted, "you- you-"

"Watch it!" she snarled, leaning forward in her chair. "You watch your words, or I swear to God I will take Monica from you and you'll never see her again!" I swallowed my words at the threat, my chest tight, and my arms and legs twitching nervously. She looked me up and down. "That's better. Control yourself. Nothing is happening to Monica that she doesn't want," she said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "She's a wonderful Pet, Roy. She has almost no resistance, no hesitation. And she missed me. She missed pleasing me; she wants me to control her. Her desire to obey me is so complete, it becomes desire to enjoy herself, no matter what I tell her to do." Her voice softened a little as she spoke. "I thought you understood, after our little ... dalliance in your home," she smirked. "I thought you understood that about her now, that I had made that clear. And I thought you were on board. You said you were..." she trailed off, and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"You can't make me do anything," I insisted feebly. "Monica and I agreed, we'll tell Rosie about you, what you did, how you made us -- do things."

"I know, Monica told me." She shook her head and laughed to herself, mocking my defiance. "Your resistance is almost cute. It would be cuter if it wasn't so inept and useless." She laughed again, and reached for her water. "Silly man. Do you think Rosie doesn't know how I am? What do you think we were fighting about that day at your house?" She drank, then chuckled. "Oh, you're something. You're in this so far over your head. Go ahead, tell her. Explain to your precious little girl that you fucked me because I threatened to tell her that her Mom is a submissive slut who can't resist licking my cunt. Go ahead. It doesn't matter."

"Don't talk about my wife that way!" I blurted, still clinging to the idea that Monica and I were in this together, that we could get past it, extricate ourselves from this web of debauchery.

"Roy," she stood, taking a few steps to a desk in the corner, where a laptop sat. "Do you want to see Monica?"

"Yes, dammit! I told you that."

"Come over here, sit." She motioned to a chair in front of the small desk. "See your wife." She opened the laptop and clicked the mouse a few times, opening a video player. "See what she was doing before you came over."

The screen burst to life with images and sound, and there, in front of my eyes, was Monica, my sweet Monica, on her hands and knees. "See? This was her reward for her obedience." She was mostly naked, grunting as a young man shoved his hard cock into her mouth. Behind her, a tall black fellow was fucking her doggie style, and she gasped every time the cock pulled out of her mouth. "Those are my friends, some of my boys. They're enjoying her pretty good, no?" I felt suddenly light-headed, and slumped in the chair as Monica's voice begged the man to fuck her harder, to make her cum on his cock. It felt like all the blood had drained from my head, and I nearly passed out. I blinked hard several times and found myself staring, entranced by the images. Monica reached to the laptop and froze the video. In the frame, Monica's mouth was stretched wide with the boy in front pressing his stomach against her nose, her throat bulging, and the black hand of the boy fucking her was pressed deeply into the flesh at her hips.

She put her lips to my ear and whispered breathily,"I guess you're not ready to see her as she really is, huh?" Her question dripped with amusement at my reaction. "And I guess it's hard to admit that she's a submissive slut." She kissed my ear, and I felt her tongue play at my earlobe. "If it makes you feel better, she didn't come here to have sex with those boys. She came here for me. She's doing that because I told her to; told her to enjoy it." She reached over and rubbed my crotch, feeling my shrunk and wilted cock. "Not exciting you, Roy? Let's watch some more," she teased. She reached for the laptop and the video resumed, my wife bouncing between the two young boys, her body shifting forward and back between their cocks, impaled at both ends while she grunted and moaned with apparent delight.

I stared in shock as Desiree pulled a chair alongside me. "She's hot, Roy, isn't she? Look at her taking that cock in her pussy, she loves it," she tormented, leaning into my ear to make sure I heard her over the sounds assaulting my senses. "She's making me hot. Is she making you hot?" She reached for my crotch again, this time fondling and rubbing my member. I felt it begin to react, and steeled myself.

"Is she liking my friends?" As I watched, the black guy pulled all the way out, his cock was long and thick and it glistened with her wetness. He motioned to the other guy, who pulled his cock from her mouth with a wet pop. For a second her head lunged forward, mouth open, trying to recapture him. In a flash the tall black kid moved her, turning her to him, and he laid himself down on his back, pulling my wife on top of him, kneeling above him with her knees at his sides, straddling his torso, and he reached between them as she settled her hips. Her mouth opened with a loud moan as he re-entered her. Then he grabbed her shoulders, and kissed him, her mouth open.

I gasped as I saw their tongues wrestling as she panted into his mouth wetly. Until then, I guess, I could still tell myself she was being forced, but she was kissing him passionately, hungrily. She WANTED to kiss him. It was a deep, desirous kiss, and it hurt me even as my dick began to harden in Desiree's hand.

"Here's the best part," she whispered in my ear, and watching my wife tongue-kiss the black college stud, I almost missed the boy behind her, stroking his cock, making it glisten. Then his hands were at her ass, and she grunted into the prone boys mouth as he held her shoulders down. And the young man behind her grabbed his shaft, aimed, and pressed in. On the screen, Monica squealed, half pain and half delight. He was pushing his cock into her ass! Against my will my cock began filling, and Desiree noticed. "O-oh, you like that?" The boy behind her was moving back and forth; as I watched, more and more of his young stiff rod disappeared inside her back door.

"So, whaddaya think, Roy? Is she liking getting her ass fucked? Is she liking getting doubled by my young stud friends?" I opened my mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Monica, shouting from the laptop speakers.

"Oh, fuck yeah, fuck my ass! Shove you r cock in my ass and my cunt! Fuck!"

Desiree laughed. "Well, I guess that answers that question!" She reached for the laptop and froze the video. I stared at the still image, seeing my wife's pale flesh displayed, the muscles in her legs straining to hold her in place, her head angled up, mouth frozen open in a howl of pleasure. Desiree squeezed my cock, now fully hard. "Looks like you enjoyed it, too!" she quipped, and released me and sat back, angling her chair to mine to face me. She reached for my chin and turned my head to hers, away from the image on the screen.

"She didn't turn against you, you know," she explained, again like she was addressing an innocent. "You never had her. She was mine the whole time, since the day at your house, when she first swore herself to me." He voice became playful, teasing. "I knew I had her. I thought I had you, as well." Her lips curled and her eyes darkened. "I certainly had you that day." The smile vanished. "But you, you ungrateful, spiteful man, you turned against me. After you promised, you broke your word." She leaned into me, hissing her words with venom. "I told you to use her, to make her mine, keep her mine, through you. But you ran away from her, wouldn't talk to her." She sat back again, relaxing into her chair. "She told me everything. When I told her to come see me, to tell you to come up and see Rosie, I warned her that you might turn on me. That she would lose me. She couldn't bear it. I told her to play along, to get you here. And here you are," she added, leaning forward again, and grabbing for my crotch. "Oh, too bad, soft again. We'll have to fix that."

"I won't do what you ask," I told her, trying to sound stronger than I felt. "You can't make me. I will confess to Rosie. She'll understand." A thought occurred to me, and I used her words against her. "You said she knows how you are. She'll believe me."

"Oh yes, she will," Desiree snarled. "That threat won't work on you, not anymore." Her eyes narrowed. "But listen to me, and hear me, Roy. You WILL submit to me. Not as willingly as your wife, but you will. Just like last time." She leaned in and lowered her voice; I turned my head away. "Or the next time I show you a video, it will be your sweet little innocent Rosie on the screen, getting her cunt and ass pounded." She grabbed my face in her hands, turned me to look into her eyes. "Would you like that? Would your dick get hard then, like it did watching your slut of a wife? You want to see your little girl debase herself at my command?" She threw my face back. "Because she is just like your wife. I will make HER my pet, if I can't have you."

The idea of Rosie participating in such an event was too much, and I felt my remaining resolve leave me. Images of the video I had just seen flashed through my head, but this time my little girl, my sweet innocent daughter, was doubled over, calling to have her ass fucked. I could hear her voice in my head, and I shuddered, and lowered my head in defeat. I took several breaths, and resigned myself to cooperate, while a knot of anger grew in my stomach for my weak-willed wife, for putting me in this situation. I turned my head to Desiree.

"Fine," I whispered.

"What was that? I didn't hear you," she mocked.

"Fine," I repeated, louder. "I cooperate. I'll- I'll do what you say." I couldn't hide the hostility in my voice. I glared at her, and she laughed carelessly, dismissing my emotion.

"A-aw, how cute, Roy is angry. You want to be angry, you want to take it out on someone? Why don't we go upstairs and see what your wife is up to? Would you like that?"