Disclaimer: This story's primary theme is non-consensual in the form of blackmail and coercion, which is why I chose to post it in this category, but I can't say this strongly enough, it also contains incest, cuckoldry, and various other sexual acts between adults. If any of those acts offend you, I encourage you not to read it, so reader beware. This story and all characters are fictional, and any resemblance to businesses or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. In real life, all non-consensual sex is immoral, illegal, and not condoned by the author. All characters are 18-years-old or older. All rights reserved.
POKER PARTY AT THE MANSION
I arrived home late, long after Hank and his buddies left after the pool party-sex orgy just as he intended and finding the house dark.
Peeking into Kerri's room, I saw she was fast asleep -- no doubt exhausted from the events of the day, about which I'd only learn details later. When I hit my own bed, Emma was equally dead to the world. I don't think she even knew I was there.
The next morning, after Kerri left for class, Emma told me over coffee what happened the day before in explicit detail, including that our maturing 19-year-old daughter had stroked Ike Jones-Dixon for her first ever handjob, sucked Ted Jenkins for her first ever blowjob, and finally fucked Hank Allenby and was likely broken to his service.
At least we didn't keep secrets from each other, well, mostly.
I wasn't really surprised, understanding from the moment Hank made Emma fuck Nate in the company president's office before Kerri's stunned eyes, that the bastard's intent was for our pretty daughter to join my corrupted wife as a company fuck slut in service to him and Allenby Consolidation.
Emma finished the conversation with the words Hank whispered to her before he left.
"Hank told me to call Betsy and have Kellen stay another night," my deadpan wife explained without obvious emotion. "Tonight's his monthly Friday poker night, and he invited you, Kerri, and me over to join his group of regulars."
Emma left it at that, but we both knew what it meant.
Kerri had a volleyball practice that afternoon, but when she got home her mother told her of Hank's plans. Our normally resilient daughter had spent the day tired and listless, wiped out and sore from yesterday's impromptu sex party. She played poorly and just wanted to stay home and veg out, but that wasn't an option.
When I got home that evening, Emma and Kerri had already showered and changed into casual poker night-type clothing -- jeans, blouses, and pumps. Nice and presentable, but nothing fancy or exotic.
Emma's chestnut brown hair was in its usual ponytail, while Kerri wore her straight hair down with her short auburn locks not quite reaching her shoulders and her bangs loose on her forehead giving her a suitably fresh-faced, cutesy look.
At 18-years-old and an adult for all of two weeks, Kellen complained briefly about staying another night at fussy Aunt Betsy's, but ultimately acquiesced like the good kid he was raised to be.
Hank said to be there by 7:30 pm, so I showered and dressed in equally casual attire and the three of us left for his house, uncertain of exactly what lay ahead for the evening but fearing the worst. Unsurprisingly, Hank's house wasn't really a house, but rather a mansion on the outskirts of town in a quiet, wealthy gated community.
We arrived on the button, finding Dave Reynolds there too, apparently arriving only a couple of minutes ahead of us. It was something of a shock, although I'm not sure why after the yacht trip.
"Hi Dave, you here by yourself? Where's Maggie?" I greeted him pleasantly but needing to ask out of curiosity and afraid his solo status portended a different set-up than I originally feared.
Just then, Hank burst into the foyer in his usual gregarious mood for festive evenings, hand extended as if we were old buddies instead of my employer who just happened to be sexually dominating my unfortunate wife, fucking her as he pleased and now our coed daughter too.
"Great, the Tyler's, and right on time. Ray, you know I like punctuality," Hank greeted us at the door, all grace and good tidings with his compliments.
"Ray, the guests won't be here until 8:00," he explained, getting right to business. "The bar is in the den, so go with Dave and familiarize yourself. You know how to mix a cocktail, right?"
"Maggie and the twins are in the anteroom changing. Emma, you and Kerri go change in there with them. I've set out some clothes for you that are much more appropriate for the evening. Hurry now, there isn't much time," Hank instructed with typical managerial succinctness.
So, that answered the question of Maggie's whereabouts, and surprisingly her accompaniment by their twin daughters, 18-year-olds Suzy and Jaxy.
I found the Reynold's twins presence to be a disturbing yet intriguing development, although understanding Hank's perverted tastes, Suzy and Jaxy joining the indecent fray made sense, although I'm not sure how he brought it about or the nature of Dave's indiscretion.
One thing was certain, Dave's and my mutual employer was not new to this game of domination and desecration, and while I didn't fully understand the depths of his depravity, I expected over time I'd learn more about his control, that my family wasn't the only one caught in his web of deceit, and apparently about his use of the Allenby workforce as fertile ground for sowing his demented desires for sex and debauchery.
I did wonder why Nicole and Burt Westridge weren't there, but I didn't ask because at the moment my entire assumption was framed more by my warped speculation about our compatriots in servitude than any established facts. I simply knew that Hank always has a reason, and I tonight's complement of female company suited his design.
One thing for certain was the reason for our invitation was now clear, as Dave and I were expected to play bartenders for the night to Hank's poker buddies while Emma and Kerri, and quite likely, Maggie and the twins played hostesses.
I could only guess what that involved, but my suspicions were soon answered when the five ladies rejoined us in the den just before 8:00 pm, confirming exactly what Hank had in mind for their evening's duties.
Maggie was the first out the door, and all I thought was Hank must be into roleplaying because she wore a nurse's uniform you'd likely find in a high-end adult movie. I expect the fact Maggie is a registered nurse as her true profession inspired his choice, but I couldn't imagine her walking the halls of Memorial Hospital wearing this number.
In fact, it was an abbreviated version of her real uniform -- very abbreviated, as the hem of her white cotton-poly dress rose extremely high on her toned, alabaster thighs. As eye-catching was that the buttoned-up front was buttoned down -- way down in a dipping vee to just below her cute navel, with the collar altered so the edges just covered her bra straps on her slight, delicate shoulders.
The bra was a silky white push-up style maximizing to the fullest her pert B-cup titties set on brilliant display bulging over the tops of the lacy cups. I had no idea what she wore in the way of panties, although the distance from her hem to her underwear was a short stretch and they'd be easily seen if she made any unplanned movement the wrong way.
Maggie's short, shapely legs were cast in stay-up, mid-thigh sheer white stockings above straight white 5" heels no nurse wears in the real world when standing on her feet for an 8-hour shift.
In traditional manner, she wore a white nurse's cap with a simple red cross emblazoned on the front. While no hospital requires such a symbol of the nursing profession any longer, it was in keeping with Hank's desired presentation, so there it was atop of her short blonde hair in bobbed ringlet curls providing the sassy look natural to her spirited demeanor.
Finally, her make-up was tastefully done as if for a normal workday, except for the hot candy apple red glossy lipstick I imagine Hank envisioned on her lush lips when wrapped around some lucky guest's cock. As a legitimizing touch, she wore her actual hospital security badge identifying her as "Margaret Reynolds, R.N."
"Very nice, Maggie, my older guests may need the services of a sexy nurse after seeing you," Hank extolled glowingly.
"Okay, Suzy and Jaxy, you too," Hank next called to Dave and Maggie's reticent lasses before they cautiously entered the room presenting themselves for our host's inspection.
"Uh-uhuh," I coughed indiscreetly upon their entrance into the den serving as the evening's poker room, catching a nasty look from Dave's wary eye.
I had met the Reynolds' 18-year-old twin daughters on a few occasions over the years at social gatherings and company events but hadn't seen either Suzy or Jaxy in at least a couple of years. Dave keeps a picture of the family on his desk, but even that was from when 20-year-old Sean graduated high school two years earlier so was probably my most recent look at the young women.
To say they'd grown-up was an understatement, and it was that look of unrestrained desire in my expression that earned the rebuking glance from my co-worker. A year younger than Kerri, Suzy and Jaxy are in Kellen's grade as high school seniors although at a different school, but now looked every bit the grown women they'd become since I saw them last.
The pair are identical to the point of having extreme difficulty telling them apart, bearing a resemblance to Maggie, especially in their height, weight, and general stature, but with looks more like their father. They might be an inch or so taller than their mother, but their hair coloring, skin tone, and facial features all speak to Dave's gene pool.