The Theft of Our Lives 07

Disclaimer: This story is a multi-chapter fantasy containing various sex acts between adults including, but not limited to, incest, cuckolding, interracial, oral, and non-consensual sex in the form of blackmail and coercion. The story, all names, and all characters are fictional. Any resemblance to entities 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.

ASSIGNMENTS

Emma was pensive and withdrawn. It was clear something was roiling her mind, making the quiet drive home from Hank's overnight poker party awkward, arriving just before noon.

Kerri immediately ran to her room and shut the door, undoubtedly traumatized by the events of the previous night, particularly those involving her mother, and we decided it was best to leave her to work through her unsettled thoughts.

Kellen wasn't due home from Emma's younger sister Betsy's house until around 1:00 p.m., so it gave us time to clean up and get back to 'normal,' whatever that meant.

Now, we had a moment to talk, and since she didn't appear comfortable going into specifics, especially about the lesbian sex with Kerri, we kept the conversation general.

"How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked somewhat stupidly, especially considering the situation and the humiliation she'd suffered so recently.

"No," my conflicted wife answered politely but in a clipped tone, and for several minutes she gave only cursory replies to my questions, keeping to monosyllabic responses and not contributing much to the discussion.

Obviously, she was disturbed by something but was struggling to tell me. When she finally did begin talking, she spilled a torrent of troubles from her tortured soul about what Hank said that morning before we left.

"Hank wants Kerri to visit Chuck Robertson's office regularly after classes," she announced in a subdued tone. "I haven't told her yet, but you can guess what he wants her to do there."

Yes, I could, and I expect our sensitive daughter wasn't going to like it.

"He also said how much he enjoyed watching, you know, Kerri and me, well, together," Emma spoke haltingly with disheartened resignation. "I'm afraid, Ray, because the sick bastard wants more."

A quiet desperation quavered in her voice pondering the unthinkable.

"He wants me together with Kerri again," she added euphemistically about the taboo incestuous pairing. "He wants us doing things for his amusement that, well, mothers and daughters shouldn't do, probably for the entertainment of his guests too."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. You know he's a sonofabitch," I replied with the only thing I could think of to say, knowing there was no way to fight or object to the lewd directive.

"There's more," Emma added somberly. "Hank told me to expect occasional visitors to the house. He emphasized strongly these were his valued guests and that Kerri and I should deny them nothing. I think you have a pretty good idea what that means."

I certainly knew and it sent a pulse of dread through me, but also a perverse rush of excitement thinking of my modest wife and angelic daughter servicing the sexual needs of a host of deviant men, and possibly women too.

I didn't understand exactly what to expect, or the levels of humiliation Hank might subject us to in our own home, or our suburban neighborhood for that matter, but I guessed it was designed to maximize our embarrassment and undermine our well-earned aura of decency and respectability.

"I'm not done, Ray," my disquieted wife struggled, continuing morosely as if condemned.

"There's more?" I questioned, disbelieving the multitude of Hank's nefarious demands.

"Yes, there's more. He said that, well, now that Kerri is part of the deal, it was time to bring in Kellen too. He told me to tease Kellen," Emma mumbled in her shame.

"What? No way! That's fucking crazy! That wasn't part of the deal. Isn't it bad enough with Kerri?" I protested vehemently, thunderstruck, and angry.

Deep down, however, I knew I was howling at the moon. Of course, it was part of the deal. Hank wanted our entire family to pay the debt, and that included our 18-year-old son in addition to our delectable collegiate daughter.

"He told me to be more 'provocative' around Kel. You know, wear revealing clothing and talk suggestively," Emma whispered, simply too ashamed to even think such things, and I can only guess actually doing them was nearly inconceivable.

We sat in silence for a moment, knowing the unspoken implications, but unable to say them aloud until finally she blurted out her wicked instructions.

"Good lord, Ray, Hank wants Kellen to fantasize about sex. Sex with me, his own mother! He wants me to seduce our son!" she sobbed, emotionally unglued about such an impure thought. "He's giving me a week before bringing Kellen to the office to witness my progress. You can imagine what he wants to see?"

Indeed, I could imagine, and I tacitly surmised my perverted boss wanted proof of Emma completing her assignment by giving a demonstration. Hank's a voyeur with a twisted sadistic side and he'd want to watch. The bastard takes great pleasure making people do things they don't want to do, and things they'd never dream of doing otherwise.

"Ray, how can I do such a thing? I'm disgusted even thinking about it," Emma bawled, bursting into tears again at the very thought.

I nodded sympathetically, not knowing how else to deal with such an extreme scenario. It sickened me too, and externally I was every bit as revolted as my wife. Secretly, however, I was appalled with myself, as the twinge of a hard-on developed at the lewd image of Emma on her back literally teaching our athletic son the 'in's and out's' of sex.

Whatever her disgust, Emma understood the inescapability of our plight, and also knew better than to disappoint Hank. The sonofabitch held our future in his hands. He could destroy our family with a single phone call to his crony the accommodating district attorney, and he would do so without hesitation.

Dutifully, in the end Emma decided Kellen must join the family's ruination, or else every sin committed to date by she and Kerri was for naught.

*****************

I had spent the entire night at Hank's poker night mercifully uncaged. My demented boss apparently got off on my getting an erection, and ultimately jerking off to the nudity of our pretty, hard-bodied 19-year-old daughter. Even more so, he liked my shameful response to the desecration of Emma and Kerri's mother-daughter relationship during their immoral lesbian encounter.

As a parting gift neither of us wanted, Emma and I were given our own gift-wrapped box, and now, after our shocking conversation, we finally got around to opening them.

"Oh shit," my wife exclaimed at the 'toy' inside her gift box.

Pink and flexible, it was a J-shaped vibrator with an elongated dildo-like end for insertion in her vagina and a smaller tip bent for constant contact with her clitoris. The box also held an anal plug made of some type of clear resin or plastic. It was mercifully short but also uncomfortably wide.

The troubled look on Emma's face told me she didn't fancy the idea of wearing either sex toy.

The vibe was a hi-tech unit, with computer chips embedded and a remote-control device driven by Bluetooth technology, giving it a long range when operated off a cellphone app controlling the vibration intensity at someone's discretion, and no doubt to their undeniable amusement.

Unfortunately, the code to the app was missing, and that sent a chill of trepidation through my distrustful wife wondering exactly what Hank had in mind.

"What the hell do you think that's about?" I asked moronically, with Emma looking at me in recognition of the idiot I demonstrably looked like.

"Jeez, Ray, don't be so stupid. You think this might make for good fun for Hank?" she chided incredulously, reading the card in the box, and shaking her head sadly.

"What does it say?" I asked curiously.

"It says, 'Wear this whenever you're out,'" she answered apprehensively, rightfully fearing the worst. "What's in your package?"

I opened my box tensely after seeing Emma's 'gift,' but didn't expect what I found.

"Oh shit," I blurted, repeating her earlier exclamation upon finding the box contained a new stainless steel cock cage, but with a twist.

Unlike my current constricting device, this contraption had a pair of metal contacts at the base of the ring holding it onto my penis, dropping to press against the back of my scrotum and with a flat, plate-like extension running along my perineum containing a lithium rechargeable battery.

"This doesn't look good," I huffed, finding a key much like the one to my previous cage along with instructions.

This device was a single unit, electric and also remote controlled, and I noted my remote was missing too, giving me grave concerns of its whereabouts. Worse still, it was fitted with small spikes on the interior along my shaft and at the tip where my crown was encapsulated.

"I don't like the look of this at all," I said openly to Emma, who returned a bemused smirk saying, 'welcome to my world,' but in the compassionate manner of the caring wife as always.

"What does your card say?" she asked with the same curiosity I'd asked about her own.

"'Wear this all the time when you're awake. Give the key to Emma. Charge it at night when you're asleep,'" I read the brief message, wincing inside with a feeling of dread.

"He never stops, does he?" Emma queried stoically, rising towards me. "Drop your pants and I'll put this on."

"Owwh, ouuwwh, watch the spikes," I complained a minute later as she affixed the cage over my soft cock.

The spikes were pointed, but I hoped they wouldn't draw blood even if, or I should say when, I got hard, as that was certainly the intent. Still, I imagined they caused enough pain making an erection something to be avoided, as much as that seemed unlikely.

"You okay?" she asked considerately, but with an edge of retribution in her tone with the metal contacts embracing my ball sack directly against the tender contents.

"The manual says it's a punishment cage, designed for the controller to give your balls a shock if you misbehave," Emma read the small pamphlet. "Doesn't say what misbehaving means though."

"I'm hoping to not find out," I quipped, before asking. "Are you putting your 'gift' in?"

"It says 'when I'm out,' so no, not right now," Emma stated flatly, making it clear that wasn't happening unless she was forced. "Frankly, I'm not going out unless Hank makes me, because I can only guess the trouble this thing can cause."

'Ping,' the sound of a text message hit Emma's phone.

"Supermarket. Now!" it said simply, with the implication clear.

Hank had most certainly expected we'd opened our gifts by now and wanted to try them out.

"Ray videos nearby" another message ordered succinctly.

"Damn, it like he reads my mind," Emma sighed, her shoulders slumping with a resignation I had grown to recognize as surrender to her unfortunate fate.

"Alright, Ray, I guess we're going out," she submitted warily, pulling some lubricant from the bedside table to smear onto the intimidating butt plug.

Anal sex isn't something we practiced much, and we're usually pretty tipsy when we do. The broad girth of the plug had Emma disconcerted and more than a little fearful, because even under our current awful circumstances I don't think she's ever had anything quite so wide up her rectum.

"Leave the room, Ray. I'd like a little bit of privacy, if you don't mind," she appealed strongly, and I knew it was best to honor her wish.

"Uuuggh," I heard a grunt from behind the bedroom door a moment later and assumed she had wedged the intimidating bulb in place with some difficulty.

Ten minutes later, we headed out the door to the local supermarket we'd shopped at for years -- a place where we're well-known and recognized as the nice, ordinary Tyler's buying our weekly groceries. We were dressed casually, with Emma in light blue jeans and a respectable but form-fitting t-shirt.

Since it was a Saturday, the place was pretty crowded, much to our dismay.

"Umm, oh, uh-oh," Emma murmured not two minutes into the door, holding a bell pepper in the produce section when the first buzz hit, shifting her hips slightly but not noticeably to anyone but me as I dutifully recorded her from a few feet away.

Judging from her reaction, I didn't get the sense it was a strong pulse, maybe sent just to get her attention, but she quietly told me it persisted nonstop at a low level. Casting me a knowing glance of distress, I followed from behind, pretending to look at my cellphone when in fact I was recording her every move, just as Hank directed.

Fearing this was merely the beginning of her public torment, Emma mindlessly placed the pepper in the basket as the gentle buzzing continued, fitfully maintaining a semblance of decorum even as the maddening vibrator created a disquieting warmth in her pussy, and the butt plug left her feeling uncomfortably stuffed in her back door.

Emma scanned the store watchfully, perhaps looking for anyone we knew with hopes of avoiding them, or possibly looking for my boss, suspecting he was somewhere nearby controlling the damn device with a chuckle at her expense.

We weren't really shopping, of course, since we knew that wasn't Hank's true purpose for our visit, and as a couple we strolled uneasily to the next aisle when a clearly stronger burst triggered in Emma's vagina, as well as on her clit.

"Awwhhhhh," she issued a deep-throated exhale, stifling the reaction as best she could, with a thankfully oblivious older woman only a few feet away looking at some canned peas and not noticing my wife's distress.

I noticed, however, as my affected wife's physical response was reflexive and more pronounced, automatically pressing her thighs together and almost dropping a jar of pickles.

Emma's responsive nipples gave away her stress, pushing reflexively through her lightweight bra, embossing her shirt in a sure sign the vibrator was highly effective in fulfilling its designed purpose. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, and I imagine the strength of the horrid sensation humming in her pussy was dramatic.

"Whew, stop for a second, Ray. I need to get my bearings," my normally steady wife requested, her knees trembling and simply closing her eyes while holding her breath for a full thirty seconds until it passed.

I stayed nearby, videoing her duress, no doubt for Hank's later review and enjoyment.

"Oh, thank god," she moaned her relief under her breath when the vibration changed to a mercifully lower setting and the strength returned to her legs, with the aggravating buzz remaining as a constant companion. Fortunately, the older lady didn't notice her predicament and gratefully moved along.

Emma recovered as best she could, knowing her respite was very likely temporary and moving through the store tenuously, afraid of the next event. Occasionally, I heard her gently peep or hesitate, fighting the impulses coursing her clitoris and striving dearly not to cum.

"Ohhh, Ray, I don't, uhhh, know if I can make it, huh-huh, through the store this way," Emma advised quietly, a telltale wiggle overcoming her lower body, and even discreetly rubbing the crotch of her jeans in a most undignified way, thankfully without anyone seeing.

"Emma? I thought that was you," Judy Lawson called from the end of the aisle, striding purposefully in our direction with her cart leading the way. "Hi Ray."

"Oh please, no. Not now," my wife whispered her discontent at the overly friendly and intrusive neighbor from three houses down our street.

"Hi Judy, um, nice to see you," Emma greeted in her usual polite manner, but I knew from the tension in her voice the continuous vibration on her engorged sex button hadn't stopped, and if Hank was in the vicinity witnessing the social interaction, it had more than likely increased in intensity.

"I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you usually shopped on Sunday," Mrs. Lawson commented, studying my wife with busybody scrutiny, and perhaps noticing Emma's obviously erect nipples or her strangely agitated state.

"Just, huh, p-picking up a few, ummm, things for dinner," she replied, struggling to appear normal but with difficulty getting out the words as the buzzing stayed directly on her swollen clitoris, now yearning for the terrible stimulation and fully engaged with the maddening vibrator.

"I see," the mid-forties neighbor acknowledged, surveying my wife before speaking her mind as usual. "Are you okay, dear, you look flushed?"

"O-ohh, fine, Judy, just in a bit of a-ah, hurry," Emma answered erratically, shifting on her feet and desperate to end the banal conversation and get moving.

Apparently, the longer dildo inserted in her vagina took on a rhythmic throb simulating a fucking motion, combining with the incessant oscillation of her clitoris, and generating a nagging arousal difficult to ignore and impossible to avoid.

I knew from Emma's reaction the vibrator had indeed amped up a notch, looking around again for Hank but seeing nothing. A trickle of sweat appeared on Emma's brow and she grit her teeth as her internal turmoil grew with each pounding pulse of the accursed device inside her saturated cunt.

"Yes, we better get going, honey," I said, intervening to save Emma the embarrassment of cumming right there and then in the full presence of our judgmental neighbor.

"G-good idea, Ray," she looked at me as her savior for the first time since our indenture, bidding Judy goodbye with some pleasantry about getting together for coffee as we hurriedly shuffled away.

"Ohhh, oh my god, Ray, thank you. Huh, I almost, ah, orgasmed in front of her," my vexed wife confirmed as we reached the end of another aisle in a less populated part of the market.

"Well, I, owwwhhhhh!" I yelped suddenly when a bolt of electricity hit the back of my scrotum, shocking my tender balls as if lit up by a taser.

"Agggh," I cried, collapsing as intense pain rocketed through my susceptible gonads, sparking a white streak lighting up my brain in agony, with the metal contacts of my shock cage fully engaged but thankfully stopping just as quickly, sparing me from wetting my pants.

"Ray?" Emma called her concern, seeing me drop and coming to my aid instantly, clutching my arm for assistance despite her own woes.

"Ohhhhhhh, huh, huh, ahhhhh!" she yipped just as abruptly when her buried vibrator took life again deep in her pussy with an even stronger dose of provoking stimulus, uncontrollably joining me on her knees on the linoleum floor consumed with unyielding arousal.

Senseless and unmoving, I slowly recovered from the powerful electrodes torturing my testicles, watching helplessly as Emma valiantly staggered to her feet even though clearly buffeted by a continuous cycle of pulses in varying strength, taunting her agitated clitoris, and flooding her pussy with irresistible sensation.

"Ohhh! Huh-uh, huh-uh, huh-uh, oh Ray, I can't help it. Ohhhhh, I'm cuuumming," my distraught wife beckoned me quietly, managing to stand on wobbly legs but gripping the grocery shelf for stability with white knuckle passion as a rolling climax reverberated throughout her statuesque body.

Dazed and still suffering the after affects of my own torment, I recognized all the usual signs of Emma experiencing a whopper of a climax, her pretty face tense and expressive with her lips circled into a wide 'O', her shoulders slumped and her big tits jiggling enticingly as the jolts of pleasure consumed her with a full-body orgasm.