The Theft Of Our Lives 10

The Theft of Our Lives 10

By Tug Coxwell

Disclaimer: This story contains various sex acts between adults, including but not limited to incest, cuckolding, interracial, oral, lesbian, 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.

THE NEW LIFESTYLE AT HOME

I can only guess what Hank told Marg about her new role in the company. It was out of Emma's earshot but if I had to guess based on previous rumors about his arrangements with our stable of 'company closers,' I'd say it was explained she needed to always be prepared for 'client relations' meetings at a moment's notice.

Euphemistically, that meant dressing professionally but in an alluring manner -- dresses above the knee, sexy and revealing underthings with an obvious display of cleavage, or essentially the things men look for when meeting an enticing woman.

The new position also required on-demand availability for an evening, or even several away from home in Hank's company with a client, a crony, or anyone else favoring Allenby Consolidation.

To ease the path to this sudden change of work commitment, particularly since Hank was smart enough to realize a carrot made application of the stick much more effective, he probably removed the 'junior' from her title and gave her a hefty raise in base salary -- maybe an additional $25k a year or so.

Hank can afford it, and this trick offers him the dual benefit of making his neophyte sex toy more amenable to her service, while also gaining some understanding from her spouse about her impromptu departures for overnight and weekend 'sales' trips.

A young, one-income couple just out of college was unlikely to balk at such an incentive.

What I did know from my wife's description is Hank related whatever new terms of employment to the fallen bride while Marg stood before him in only her tattered stockings and heels trembling with sexual exhaustion. Ashamed of her moral failing, she nonetheless nodded happily at the arrangement, thinking it was the making of her career.

Dazed and disheveled, Marg's bewildered expression of misguided ambition was pasted on her pale face, with streaks of mascara despoiling her flushed cheeks, while unable to escape acknowledging Ned and Scott's adulterous cum filled her stomach, and Ike's voluminous spunk dripped from deep within her well-fucked pussy.

As he spoke, Hank casually handled the compliant saleswoman's large left breast, gently squeezing and lifting the firm tit or tugging curiously on her erect nipple testing its responsiveness, while extolling the great news of her 'elevation' at Allenby and giving her a demented insight into her professional future.

For my family, the story was less promising, featuring changes in their interpersonal relationships now that they were all onboard and aware of the situation. Hank made clear the office celebration was merely the beginning, and that he expected more of everything -- more sex, more depravity, and more humiliation.

"I like your new family dynamic, especially with Kellen and your sexy lesbian sister in the mix," he explained sternly to my disconsolate wife, removing any doubt of his sincerity. "I want it to continue, and in fact, I want it to intensify, you know, in frequency and variation."

"Oh no, it's wrong, Hank, not our whole family," Emma whined ineffectively, knowing he meant every word but unable to conceive how it was possibly real.

"Yes, the whole family, and don't forget what I said about you and Kerri. Ramp it up, folks, whether I'm there or not, but keep it discreet. No outsiders, unless I say so," my boss ordered succinctly, escalating their incestuous explorations but rightly wary of public disclosure of our indenture.

To the outside world, everything needed to appear normal, at least for now, as if we're the same respectable suburban family the neighbors knew and admired. It also included keeping the secret from Betsy's wife, Samantha, and their 18-year-old son, Robbie.

Out of public view, however, Emma, Kerri, and Kellen were expected to be boiling cauldrons of sexuality while expanding their scandalous new relationship, with my spunky sister-in-law a frequent visitor and participant in their indecent playtime.

"Betsy, I think it might be best for you to stay at Emma's a few nights a week," Hank strongly suggested with the impact of an order, not an option.

Fortunately, that wasn't a terribly uncommon occurrence, so was an easy sell to Sam. Both women occasionally spent the night away from home, with Betsy visiting our family or Sam on the road for her work, leaving Robbie to fend for himself as a young adult.

"Now, I want you working on your blowjob skills," he explicitly instructed Emma's downcast younger sister. "They're underwhelming, to say the least. Since you're a dyke, I'm forgiving, but I expect vast improvement the next time you visit my office."

Considerately, Hank understood Betsy's lack of experience but wanted Emma and Kerri to teach her how to properly suck off a man and extract his virile jism, with the two providing hands-on demonstrations.

My wife and our daughter are each quite accomplished at the task, with Emma's skills developed from the tutelage of Mrs. Ogawa and extensive real-life experience giving head to a number of men in her service to Hank, while Kerri, new to the practice of fellatio, apparently possessed a natural aptitude for sucking cock.

"Betsy, you can practice on your nephew," Hank confirmed with a grin. "I'm sure he'll be a willing volunteer."

"Ohhh lord," Betsy gasped, and her knees buckled slightly at the mere thought of such a delinquent prospect.

"I'll invite you to visit my office again soon, and you can show me what you've learned," he suggested, finishing ominously. "I'd better see some noticeable progress too, or I'll send over a few of my associates as training partners."

A shiver coursed through Betsy, chastened as the unthinkable reality of her predicament truly sank in, with the not-so-implied threat of blowing multiple strange men generating even greater angst in my imperiled gay sister-in-law.

What truly bothered Betsy though, was when Hank asked a few simple questions about Sam -- her age, where she worked, what she did, and finally for a picture of her family. She hoped he just wanted it as leverage, but feared it was for some more nefarious purpose.

Emma eyed Kellen suspiciously, believing he looked a little too eager to participate in Hank's proposed educational regime, and while I wasn't there, I suspect she was right.

Then again, as an 18-year-old guy, why wouldn't he be?

Our hormone-charged son poorly faked his distaste for the prospect of his sexy aunt wrapping her pouty lips around his rigid cock learning to give head, with the added perk of an explicit demonstration by his talented, freckle-faced sister or capable, big-titted mother.

As the lone sexually-active male in the house, Kellen was in for a tremendous change of lifestyle -- from protected virgin to man-in-demand. There was no question Kellen was in for more gratuitous sex than an average man can handle.

Fearful doing otherwise might result in greater punishment and even more disgraceful acts, the trio of women nodded reluctantly, knowing that performing their very best in satisfying Kellen's abundant sexual needs was a requirement.

I suppose it's a good thing he's young, fit, and vital, because between the numerous blowjobs and fuck sessions, his poor balls were going to be constantly empty, drained of every potent drop of their virile contents by the suctioning mouths and demanding pussies of the demoralized women.

"Hydration," I offered as my only advice to our favored son when I heard the dictate upon my return.

"That's not all though, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I want you to focus your well-earned cunt-licking skills on your sister," Hank elaborated, continuing to set out his specious expectations.

"Oh, please, not that, Mr. Allenby. Please don't make me do that again. It's so wrong," Betsy sorrowfully whimpered, visibly cringing at the taboo order and summoning the courage to object.

"Why the hell not?" Hank shot back at her resistance, adding matter-of-factly. "She's a hot babe and she's helping you. Think of it as

quid pro quo

for the blowjob lessons."

Emma and Betsy's eyes met bashfully at the awful words with a knowing dread, but also shamefully sensed an unspoken titillation rushing through them at the thought of such a forbidden act.

"Show Emma the proper way to eat pussy and build up her oral stamina. She's no better at it than you are at sucking cock, and that needs to change," Hank elucidated condescendingly.

Even then, my degenerate employer wasn't finished, pursuing yet a grander design, callously demanding more than merely blowjob lessons for Betsy, cunnilingus training for Emma, and the accompanying sexual satisfaction it brought our blessed son.

Hank wanted complete Sapphic cross-pollination, fully expecting my modest 39-year-old wife, our virtuous 19-year-old daughter, and their lesbian 36-year-old sister and aunt to spend quality time between each other's widespread legs, ardently elevating the recipient of their oral expertise to orgasm after orgasm.

"You too, young man," Hank counseled, turning to our wide-eyed son. "You'd better learn to eat pussy from these three lovelies as well."

As an avowed degenerate, the bastard was enamored with the image of Kellen's face buried between the sturdy thighs of his shapely mother, the wiry legs of his athletic sister, or the supple limbs of his lively lesbian aunt.

As he did, Hank expected the breathless ladies to advise our inquisitive youth on the best techniques for teasing their engorged clits, or eating their sumptuous snatch to mind-blowing, body-shuddering, toe-curling climaxes.

"Clients like Margaret Hilliard expect quality cunt-licking from a strapping young stud such as yourself," he advised

So, Kellen was not exempt from learning the fine art of cunnilingus -- not so much because my boss cared, although he loved the idea of our son as a protégé, but rather because it was good for client relations, and therefore good for business, and that's what truly mattered to Hank Allenby.

"I actually envy you, kid, especially sampling your big sister's pretty pink peach," Hank added wistfully to Kerri's utter embarrassment.

Yet he wasn't finished even then, wanting still more in the way of an attitude change by Emma, Kerri, and Betsy, along with Alpha-male status for our acolyte son.

"If you ladies know what's good for you, I need you to assume the right mindset," he straightforwardly informed the trio of dumbfounded women. "You aren't of value to me unless you adopt a more 'permissive' attitude towards sex and deference to authority. It's a dealbreaker if you don't become the pacified 'sex dolls' I want and expect."

The threat of Hank's abrogating the deal and breaking up our families was implied, but also very real, and the message was clearly understood by all concerned.

Emma had already accepted this fate and was well down the road to becoming a compliant fuck toy. Kerri was on her way too as a natural submissive, but the idea was unappealing to my uninitiated sister-in-law.

"You'd better show your sexy little sister what I mean, Emma," Hank told my newly docile wife, with Emma nodding meekly in cowed obeisance facing the threat of the destruction of our family.

Once a strong, confident woman, Emma was now broken to service. She and our increasingly acquiescent daughter were to show Betsy her expected behavior and the need to accept her subservience to any man or woman Hank directed her way, including our suddenly empowered son.

"Only under my directives though, got it, Emma? Remember, no outsiders," Hank reinforced his earlier mandate, setting the limits and making clear this attitude was only proper in that context, as without his imprimatur other people desirous of their sexual services need not apply.

Unfortunately, in my role as newly cuckolded husband, that included me.

"Kellen is to be treated with the same obedience you give me," Hank emphasized. "Do what he tells you without hesitation. In matters of sex, Ray is sidelined, and Kellen's the man. If he wants to fuck you, you let him fuck you."

My devious employer's well-considered plan was particularly explicit about my wife and daughter's submission, conceding to any sexual demand so long as it didn't arouse suspicion outside the home, rightfully paranoid about trouble arising from blatant public displays of incestuous behavior unless it was strictly under his control.

Presumptively, Kellen's authority included Betsy too whenever she visited without Sam or Robbie, although Hank left that unspoken. Perhaps, he hoped for Kel to instinctively extend his unprecedented dominion over his reticent aunt without telling him expressly to do so.

"Kellen, when it comes to sex, take charge with authority," Hank admonished our bedazzled son, with Emma and Kerri standing by cautiously eyeing his reaction to the news, and surreptitiously catching an involuntary twitch of his half-hard cock as an unsettling portent.

Hank knew what he was doing, making explicit his wish for Kellen to reduce his humbled mother and big sister into his personal sex toys, even as they otherwise retained their normal roles in his life. Our impressionable son was urged to develop his dominant side, expressing his profane desires while taking control until they bowed pliantly to his requests.

It didn't matter whether Emma, Kerri, or even our son, were happy with the arrangement. They weren't required to refrain from expressing their disdain to Kellen or any of Hank's designates. They weren't even under an obligation to fake pleasure or orgasm, but they were expected to obey.

Hank's guests were deviants like himself, getting off knowing the women simply had no other choice, with my family's happiness not his primary concern.

"One more thing. When Ray gets home, don't be bashful. I want him to see everything," Hank stated firmly. "Kellen, if that means fucking your mother right in front of his face, then do it."

Cruelly, Hank relished my budding voyeuristic and cuckolding tendencies, recognizing how shamefully aroused I got witnessing my devoted wife and our lovely daughter engaged in illicit sex, and correctly sensing the perversity of the act was exponentially heightened knowing their taboo partner was our constantly horny son.

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

According to Emma, everyone was pretty wrecked by the time they arrived home that Tuesday evening. The only one who ate dinner was Kellen, with his rapacious appetite for food matched only by his heightened libido and burning desire for the newly discovered pleasures of bawdy sex.

Betsy went her separate way, emotionally devastated and needing to see her family, but promising to return soon per Hank's orders to begin her training as a newly bisexual fuck treat for her anxious but eager nephew, as well as expert instructor in the arts of lady lovemaking to Emma and Kerri.

Wednesday passed as a nearly normal day, with the kids going to class and team practices while Emma tidied the house, hoping desperately for some sense of routine in our rapidly deteriorating lifestyle but ultimately unable to prevent the creeping thought that Hank now had our whole family under his thumb and where that might lead.

"Mom, I'm home," Kellen called, arriving through the back door where he'd deposited his baseball cleats prior to entering the kitchen and finding his mother cooking dinner.

"Whoaaah, shit!" he exclaimed not two steps in the doorway, seeing the twin globes of her round white ass staring him in the face beneath the strings of an apron tied in a big bow above her ripe bottom as the only thing she wore.

"Watch the swearing, mister," Emma scolded lightly, shifting on her feet and looking over her right shoulder with a raised eyebrow at the miscue, while inadvertently granting a striking view of her substantial side-boob under the bib of the functional green smock.

"Sorry, but I, um, just...," Kellen stammered, unable to complete the sentence and uncertain what to say at the shocking introduction to their new 'casual' life at home.

"I know, Kel. It's difficult for me too, but you heard what Mr. Allenby said, and I can promise you he's dead serious," she explained, turning to face him with the generous mountains of tit-flesh escaping at either side of the front, but her wide flat nipples discreetly just out of view.

"Yeah, I know, it's just hard to get used to," he answered contritely, with his eyes locked on his mother's compelling figure in a manner considered inappropriate only a week earlier, but now was to be expected under the circumstances.

"Yes, well, you're going to find things hard a lot more often around here going forward, if you understand my meaning," Emma joked, making light of the awkward situation.

Kellen grinned shyly at his unusually precocious mother's ribald remark.

"Kerri texted that she's staying at the library for a while and won't be home until later, so we're on our own tonight," she announced, setting a plate on the table, and nodding for him to start.

"What about you?" he asked politely, noting she was forgoing dinner.

"I had a snack earlier, and I need to watch my weight. I think Hank wants me trim. Lord knows I get enough exercise these days, but I still need to count the calories," his mother commented in oblique reference to the constant sex she endured, sitting down still in her apron with her big tits threatening to escape the fabric but not quite making it.

"You don't need to worry about that, mom. You look hot," Kellen offered with some hesitation, nervously tracking her giant melons with her fleeting gaze.

Perhaps testing the waters of his recently imbued authority, our son was still uncertain how far he might take things after an upbringing of honoring his sainted mother.

"Well, aren't you nice, sweet-talking your mother? Is there, um, something else you want from me?" Emma subtly suggest with queasy sense of remorse, sorrowfully understanding her role in fostering a more assertive approach towards she and Kerri.

"Um, no, this will do. I have plans for later," he answered obtusely, possibly thinking she was talking about the meal, or maybe tired after a grueling afternoon practice, or perhaps even thinking of someone else to tap that evening.

"Okay, suit yourself. I'm going to hit bed early. I don't getting many nights alone in my room these days," she alluded with a wink, clearing the table, and cleaning up.

Kellen stared at her nearly nude body throughout, mesmerized by his mother's spectacular curves. Feeling the twitch of an erection rising, he was still coming to grips with the impossible notion she was available at his whim for his pleasure and amusement.

It was only that last recognition of her ready accessibility sparing Emma from our red-blooded son taking her right there in the kitchen.

Kellen is unworldly in many ways but understands completely his mentor's intentions for his future.

More importantly, he recognized Hank's ability to deliver on them, correctly realizing he'd have many opportunities to enjoy his mother's statuesque form and withholding from the temptation while thinking of another conquest in his newly-designated role as man of the house.

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

Two hours later, Kerri slipped quietly through the front door. It was only just past 10:00 p.m. but the house was dark, and she assumed Emma and Kellen were both asleep. Tired from a long day of classes, practice, and studying, she headed straight upstairs for her room, simply wanting a good night's sleep.