Hi friends, I am an avid reader of Literotica and love the more literary pieces among others. I wanted to push the limits of this genre in this piece and hope you like it. Depending on the response, I intend to try to push the limits of most if not all genres. Kindly make an author's day and comment or drop a few lines on e-mail as the greatest award that an author seeks is an audience and your words would be my reward enough. Love you my readers.
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It started on a Saturday afternoon. All of us were in the farmhouse. I hadn't been seeing my family much of late and they felt that this vacation was long overdue. I had missed my elder daughter's graduation and my younger daughter's school pass-out ceremony.
I had to make it up to them and nothing better than a surprise trip to the wilderness with family. And so it was myself, Amol with my lovely wife Suman and my two daughters Anu and Payal in our 5 acre farmhouse at the outskirts of Nainital beside the Corbett national park planning to spend the next week cut-off from civilization in blissful incommunicado.
I was 43, a criminal lawyer at Supreme Court practicing law for the last 25 years. I had started independent practice at the age of 25 and had a very high success rate. I had toiled my way through the system and today was the youngest criminal advocate at the Supreme Court. One day I would hold the highest judicial chair and that was the incentive that kept my motors whirring at work. I always felt that there should be something to scale, to obtain, to attain or else life meanders into meaningless existential innuendo.
On the home front, I had a lovely wife, Suman, 39 years of age who was very beautiful and looked not a day older than 30. In fact she took secret pride whenever someone took her to be her daughter's elder sister.
Women and their vanity...
She had dedicated her life to her children and had never let their father's absence affect the upbringing of her children. She had been at once the doting mother and the strict father and had inculcated good behavior and a sense of right and wrong in them.
Both my daughters had taken after their mother. Anu was 22, fair, slim and extremely beautiful. She was the quiet one. She loved poetry and I am sure she was the type who kept a secret journal somewhere jotting down beautiful sonnets or maybe stories in them. Payal was 18, tall, dusky with a pair of blue eyes that could submit anyone to her captive beauty in a matter of seconds. She was the talkative one, bubbly and vivacious and was doted upon by both of us.
It was the month of November and the wintery chill had just about set in. It had been snowing in Srinagar and there was a noticeable drop in temperature in the last few days.
I had just finished reading my newspaper in the garden when I heard the van (an old Volkswagen transporter) coming up the road that led from our gate to our house. The van seemed to be a trifle faster than what the cobblestoned pathway allows the vehicles to be. There was this sense of uncomfortable warmth behind my ears that I generally felt when alarmed.
That instinct was spot on as I was to discover very soon.
As I was wondering why the watchman hadn't informed us of the approaching van, the van came into view around the bend, hurtling down the path and crashed into the picket fence to the left of the wrought iron gates and headed straight towards me standing in the garden. I was too shocked to jump out of the way and took a sideways blow from the screeching van; the sound of the screeching van tearing into the crunching noise of breaking bones in my abnormally twisted right arm.
I was thrown 3 meters by the impact and raised my head feebly to see four shabbily dressed guys and a girl in leather tumble out of the van with two of them waving handguns in their hands (which I found out later were a SW 9mm and a Raptor). Three of them rushed into the house while the girl and the fourth guy rushed towards me. I tried getting up but my arm thwarted my efforts and I just wailed in pain. The girl saw me wince and saw my arm twisted at an impossible angle. She stepped forward and put her boot on my broken arm. I screamed hard but no sound escaped my already parched throat.
There was this look of pure hatred in this girl's eyes; pure, unmitigated hatred towards me. The pain kicked in a little later and I passed out...
It must have been some time after that as when I came to, it was already night. I was on the floor of the guest room of our mansion, my left hand cuffed to the bedstead and my right hand in a plaster cast. Surprisingly most of the pain was gone but I felt a little light headed. There was a dim light in the room with only the 25 W night-light bulb on. I slowly recounted the events in my head and looked around the room. The door was shut and to my surprise bolted from within. I raised my head and looked behind. Two of my attackers were sprawled on the bed. It was dark but I could see both their naked forms on the bed. The girl looked like 20-25 years and the guy was in his early thirties. She was very fair and her face emanated a glow from the reflected night light. The guy was muscular, and with his unkempt beard looked menacing. I was on the foot end of the bed and I could see dried white cum between the girl's legs, discernibly matting her hair. The room had the stench of spent lovemaking and both had slept off into a slumber after making love on my bed. I kept watching her body and especially her cunt riveted at the sight. I felt a rustle in my loins and realized that my dick had decidedly been aroused by the insanely sexy circumstances. The horror of the situation was somewhat mollified by the intoxicating sight of a recently fucked and resting cunt.
I didn't see the other three guys anywhere and assumed they must be somewhere else in my house and...oh my God!
My family-what's happened to them?
ARE THEY DEAD OR WORSE?
What the hell was happening here and why? I took a deep breath and mustered all the energy that I could and bellowed out the loudest that I have ever screamed.
Surprisingly it didn't come out loud enough but was enough to rouse the sleeping lovers. She got up with a start, looked at me at her face reddened with anger or maybe just hatred, the color that I had seen just before I had passed out. She got up and came around the bed, never bothering to cover her nudity. She came up to me, held my collar in her hands, lifted me up and smacked me hard over my face. It was like a sledgehammer hitting onto my head. Blood vessels opened up on the inside of my cheek and maybe split my gums and I splattered blood on the floor. She came over me, held my hair in both of her hands, pinned my face to the ground and squatted inches from my face. I was still reeling from the pain of the blow and tried hard to shake her off me. But it isn't easy doing that with one hand cuffed and the other broken and in a plaster. I could see her pussy lips parting to reveal her pink cunt lips and the acrid stench of her juices mixed with the guy's cum revolted my me to the core and I could feel a retch build up somewhere deep within me.
She then took a deep breath and I could see her urethra open up on my face. A steady stream of warm piss struck my eyes, my mouth and my nose and washed down the blood leaking from the corners of my mouth.
