The Theft Of Our Lives 16

Disclaimer:

This story is a fantasy containing various sex acts between adults, including but not limited to, cuckolding, incest, and non-consensual sex in the form of blackmail and coercion. The story and all the 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.

KELLEN TAKES HIS RIGHTFUL PLACE

"So, what's next?" I wondered.

Kerri stood in the doorway, an abundance of congealing male ejaculate caking her pretty face, shimmering atop her freckled D-cup tits, and grotesquely soiling the insides of her toned thighs. The sheer volume of glutinous semen was matched only by the bountiful tears overflowing her traumatized green eyes and racing down her cute, alabaster cheeks.

"Quick, sweetie, get inside," Emma urged with open-mouthed horror, ushering her into the foyer out of view of our early rising neighbors peeking through their blinds, disbelieving it was our well-known lass, who once joyfully did handsprings on our front lawn, nearly naked on our porch in the dawn light.

It was now clear to her mother and I that Kerri, just recently turned 20-years-old and the shining light of our life, was the one thing no parent ever wanted for their angelic daughter - she was quite literally, a whore.

Beautiful, vibrant, and a touch precocious, our auburn tressed princess was always filled with promise and the wonders of youth, chasing butterflies in the backyard and her dreams in life as she blossomed into emerging womanhood.

Exhibiting a swift intelligence and beguiling good looks, Kerri possessed all the attributes necessary to take her as far as she wanted to go, but now, our sweet college girl was merchandise.

Product.

A comely commodity available for exploitation by anyone willing to pay the top-dollar price she commanded.

Kerri's stark transformation marked a transitional moment in our family's future, and the vision of her standing there in tears, obviously well-fucked and discarded at our doorstep, was devastating to us both, and hit her mother especially hard, grievously mourning the loss of our formerly innocent maiden knowing we were ultimately responsible.

The impact on Emma was insurmountable, and as a devoted mother she was at the breaking point under the continuous onslaught of Hank's demanding obedience without reprieve and her absolute submission to his will.

From the vile afternoon she reluctantly stripped in his office for an inspection of the 'goods' he'd just acquired in the form of her beautiful face, tall frame, and eyepopping tits, Emma was determined to resist the corruption of our tight-knit family.

Now, she was clearly losing the battle, and soon the war under Hank's unrelenting drive to crush her spirit and obtaining our entire family's moral downfall and societal impropriety.

Sure, Emma was painfully aware Kerri had already lost much of her naïveté in the months preceding that infamous first night as a prostitute. Truthfully, our athletic coed had spent as much time on her back or knees as her highly coveted mother, servicing the hard cocks and wet pussies of the many strangers presented by my boss.

That's not even mentioning the frequent demands by Kellen, our robust and vital 18-year-old son with raging hormones and a sizable cock constantly in need of a warm, wet place to be planted.

Raised as a loving son and protective younger brother, Kellen's was only human after all. Still underdeveloped and maturing, his inherent decency and goodness were no match against the bountiful dual temptations of sex and power offered by Hank, his amoral mentor, in the form of his luscious, curvy mom and fresh-faced, vivacious older sister.

Whatever his ethical misgivings, and I like to believe he still held some, since his elevation to head of the household, Kellen unfailingly took advantage of Hank's gift of primacy over me and the entire family, including in our marital bedroom, pushing me out permanently.

Always horny and unsatisfied, Kellen's sexual appetite was unfailingly triggered by the sight of his mother and sister traipsing about the house in only the scantiest clothing, falling easy prey to the allure of Emma's huge DD tits or the sublime interior of Kerri's soft mouth expertly sucking his cock.

I was changing too in the face of our impertinent son's rising profile as master of the house as my unreleased voyeuristic and cuckold tendencies took flight, fostered in no small part by my forced training by my unforgiving boss and now amplified by the substitution of Kellen in his stead.

Diminished by Hank's control over every aspect of our lives and using Kellen as his happy proxy, the very thought of Emma fucking or sucking our insatiable son, his equally ravenous buddy, Tim, and any number of fortunate men or women of Hank and Kellen's choosing, drove me increasingly mad with excitement.

It wasn't just a mental evolution into my deleterious condition either, as Hank encouraged Kellen to make other subtle changes to my appearance in softening my looks and feminizing my demeanor as a man.

It wasn't overt and the intent wasn't to turn me into a transvestite or she-male. Rather, the goal was to undermine my masculinity and patriarchal authority, converting me into a true Beta-male without the capacity to challenge the primacy of the men taking my compliant wife as their own, including our emboldened son.

To that degree, in addition to the women's panties I was already wearing daily, I now wore garters and hose under my work slacks, along with high platform heels - still male, but with a hint of femininity, especially when paired with my colorful, somewhat blousy shirts in tones of mauve, pink, and chartreuse.

Unfortunately, the silky hose instigated the removal of my leg hair, and just for his amusement, Kellen insisted on taking my pubic hair with it.

"Off with the trousers, dad," Kel ordered gruffly.

"Really, Kel?" I complained, but only weakly about the girlish touch added to my overall hygiene and grooming.

Contritely, I instead simply dropped by pants revealing my purple panties as the esthetician at the salon smirked, probably thinking it the funniest thing she'd ever encountered in her years in the profession, at least until those too were removed exposing my even more embarrassing chastity cage.

"Everything below the waist goes," he told the giggling lady, fueling my humiliation and shame as a man in subservience to our irreverent son's newfound dominance.

"Dad, when we're done here, that parlor where I took mom is perfect for you too," Kellen announced as the woman meticulously eliminated every follicle below my waist.

"Oh, shit, no," I bemoaned, my heart sinking at the thought of the piercings adorning Emma thick nipples, along with the new stainless-steel stud in her tongue approved by our son as an aide to her already stellar cocksucking skills.

So now, our increasingly wicked son required me to wear metal bars in my nipples, embossing my shirts at the office and unavoidably informing my co-workers of my perceived kinks. The piercings served no purpose, but were terribly embarrassing, leaving the staff speculating at the coffee station about just how far my perversities went.

Emma's periodic visits to Hank's office in service to himself or a valued client only fed their lurid suspicions, especially upon leaving an hour or so later looking disheveled, fucked hard, and undeniably worse for the wear. My boss thought the set-up further lowered my status as a man in everyone's eyes, including my own wife's, and he was right.

Thankfully, there was no make-up, but Kel ordered me to let my hair grow longer as a feminizing touch, with the net result that I still looked the role of a man, but definitely not a powerful or authoritative one commanding respect, and in the end, that was truly Hank's intention.

Oh yes, and my chastity cage was modified too as I succumbed to my soon-to-turn 19-year-old son's burgeoning dominance and imperative.

The damned irremovable prison was now fully electronic and digitally controlled by a code on Kellen's cell phone. It still inflicted a painfully sharp jolt to my sensitive testicles at his command, but also included a trigger on the inside tip exposing my vulnerable prick to a perverse wave of electric stimulus.

It wasn't a shock like the one to my balls, but anytime I got hard it went off, generating an endless cycle of pulsating arousal to my stunted and underused penis, with the humming effect keeping me hard crushing my prick against the unyielding metal cage.

Sadly, that was a common occurrence, what with Emma frequently on her back, groaning breathlessly with ankles pinned to her ears getting brutally fucked beneath the grunting bodies of an endless line of Kellen's tireless, well-hung ballplayer buddies.

The final addition to the nasty device was the incorporation along my perineum of a prostate-massaging wand sunk deep in my rectum similar to what I'd suffered the night of Nate's threesome with my adoring wife and smitten daughter.

Buzzing intermittently against the erection-causing organ, the wand sustained my hard-on, leaving me constantly horny and in an unrelenting state of sexual torment.

Cruelly, Kellen knew confining me to my cock cage 24/7 prevented me from jerking-off, at least unless he thought removing it might be funny or add to my greater humiliation. Usually, that meant in front of the young men soundly screwing Emma, or sometimes in the presence my sister-in-law, Betsy, whose nude body strewn across a bed getting laid always made me hard.

Riddled with guilt but uncontrollably turned on, I lacked the ability to control my urge for a cuckolded erection listening to Emma beckon one of the guys to fuck her hard with his larger cock, or watching Betsy betray her lesbian vows taking Kellen doggy-style while my wife's young lover, Tim Bradley, relaxed on the sofa as my sister-in-law sucked him off.

Taken together, I was now totally conflicted about my place and role as family patriarch, and while it was awful on so many levels, it was also absolutely exhilarating.

I was constantly on edge, locked down and constricted, yet excited by the common and very likely prospect of finding Emma in our bed, on her knees, or even by our backyard pool, sucking off Kellen, banging Tim, or even taking on a pair of their teammates she'd never met before that very afternoon.

Absurdly, I'd grown accustomed to my cage and the silky underthings delicately embracing my hairless, untethered balls, involuntarily feeding the eroticism of my weak situation. Humbly, I occupied my lesser household position as financial provider alone, consigned to a role as Beta-male to our son's Alpha preeminence.

Emotionally neutered, spiritually emasculated, and a jumble of stimulated nerves, I was a chastened, controlled, and degraded witness to Emma's descent and transformation into an increasingly unapologetic slut while I was reduced to a callow shell of my former self.

Without refusal, I anxiously awaited every opportunity for Kellen to humiliate me, reveling in my degradation as a full-fledged voyeur and cuckold, secretly admiring his burgeoning mastery of his mother as the true man of the house.

Circumstances were admittedly odd as Kellen expanded his authority over his domain, uncharacteristically using coarse language when referring to sex or the women's anatomy. I admit it was difficult hearing Kellen refer to his mother's 'cunt' at the dinner table or call his big sister 'slut,' especially when they weren't actively fucking.

Incest was commonplace and the practitioner's casual in their acceptance of their immoral relationship. As an observer strictly prohibited from participating myself, I was fascinated, watching anxiously on the sidelines at their growing comfort with their libertine and very illicit lifestyle.

Even then, deep in our souls, as a family we were nonetheless unable to completely escape the doubt and shame of the unnatural sex occurring daily.

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

'Ding-dong,' the doorbell rang early one morning not long after Kerri's nefarious night at the Saddle Club.

Emma was dressed simply in a white t-shirt just covering her hips and that was it. No panties or anything else. The shape of her large breasts pushed against the fabric and her dark rose areolae surrounding the tips of her flaccid nipples were apparent to even the most casual observer.

It was my accommodating wife's typical morning attire now, walking casually to the door and peering through the spy hole to find Don Stanley, our older next-door neighbor, standing on the porch. He hadn't made an appearance in some time, and for that, Emma was extremely grateful.

'Don's gonna be disappointed if he thinks he's getting another shot at shaving my snatch,' Emma thought whimsically about her permanent epilation while opening the door, clearly unconcerned about her lack of clothing.

"Hi, Don, I wasn't expecting you. Ohhh, Audrey!" she said flatly at our neighbor's appearance, becoming openly surprised by the presence of his wife by his side.

Audrey Stanley is in her mid-50's with graying blonde hair and the pleasant look of the nice neighbor lady - attractive with deep blue eyes, but not particularly tall at probably 5'4" and slight of build at maybe 105 lbs.

The matron wore a mid-thigh white pleated tennis skirt, a light green polo shirt and white tennis shoes with her hair in a short ponytail accommodating her active lifestyle, including participating in local clubs and playing tennis with her many friends.

Don was also dressed in tennis attire, so it was likely they'd played a match this morning.

As with her husband, Audrey was always so nice to Kerri and Kellen over the years, taking a special interest in their welfare and assisting Emma with their care as they grew to adulthood.

Intuitively falling into past practice, upon seeing Audrey, Emma's gut reaction was to absentmindedly tug on the hem of the t-shirt, hoping to cover her shorn pussy. Instead, she only pulled it tighter against her big breasts, and realizing that, quickly stopped and simply adopted the shy grin usually associated with her generally reserved demeanor.

"I'm sorry, I probably should grab my robe," my wife apologized, flummoxed and uncertain what else to say.

"Not to worry, but perhaps we should come in rather than leaving you standing here with the door open," Don offered as he and Audrey invited themselves into our foyer under the lame guise of protecting Emma from neighborhood view.

Without shame, the meddling couple's eyes keenly roamed over her half-naked form as my wife contritely turned her head to the side avoiding their stares.

"You must be here alone, huh? Ray already off to work? Are the kids off somewhere, or perhaps still asleep?" Don suggested, unaware the new arrangements for our household required by Hank but unknowingly about to be introduced.

"No, Don, Ray's upstairs getting dressed for work, and the kids are here, although I haven't heard them so they might still be sleeping," Emma replied, uncomfortable getting caught so scantily dressed by our neighbors, even with everything Don had done and already knew of our indenture to my boss.

"Well, I can see there have been some changes around here, Emma," Don acknowledged, for the first time eyeing her exposed pussy but with a frown of consternation.

"I was telling Audrey about your new personal grooming routine," he advised, quizzically scrutinizing the completely bald mound. "She was interested in seeing it for herself, but it appears we may be too late."

Now, Emma grew extremely uncomfortable, and her hand reflexively dropped to her baby-smooth pubis, vainly shielding it from their prying eyes.

"Don't be stupid, Don! There's not so much as a follicle in sight. She's clearly had her pussy lasered," Audrey chastised lightly, her eyes lighting up at the glorious vision of the conservative mother standing so perturbed in her own house - the pretty but prudish woman they'd both discreetly lusted after for years.

"You'd think even a dumb male could figure that out, wouldn't you, dear?" the older woman tisked rhetorically with a sly wink to Emma in a shared woman's moment making fun at her husband's expense.

"Um, maybe we could go into the kitchen and get some coffee instead," Emma countered, correctly suspecting they weren't leaving without some show of hospitality, whatever than included. "I imagine Audrey didn't want to see such an indecent display anyway."

Emma sensed she was wasting the effort, knowing by her wide-eyed demeanor that Audrey dearly wanted to witness a fantastic spectacle involving her exposure and disgrace, and wasn't leaving until she did.

Understanding Don had Hank's imprimatur, and seeking to placate the old buzzard so he didn't report negatively to my boss and thus engender his disapproval, my crafty wife was stalling, trying to think of an alternative that didn't involve Kerri, and most definitely not Kellen.

Against all odds, Emma hoped that if she was lucky, our slovenly son might sleep late, as he often did on days when he only had afternoon classes.

"Okay, let's have a cup of coffee and chat. I guess it's been too long since we've had the pleasure Emma, because there's clearly some changes going on around here even Don doesn't know about," Audrey agreed with her husband's observation, openly sharing his enthusiasm for the morning visit.

"Yes, well, let me just grab my robe on the way to the kitchen," Emma replied in a last-ditch effort at modesty despite our perverse neighbor's apparent delight at her sparse covering.

"Don't bother, Emma," Don answered. "I've already seen everything you've got, and knowing Audrey, I'm guessing she's enjoying the view as well. We'll just sit in the breakfast nook while you make coffee."

So, Don and his wife sat making harmless small talk, their eyes following Emma's every move throughout the kitchen as she made coffee. My wife was fortunate everything she needed was on the countertop, as there was no way she'd avoid exposing the fullness of her prodigious bare ass were it necessary to reach for anything in the upper cupboards.

Still, it was a constant battle keeping her short hem down, and she was totally unable to prevent her big, bobbling tits from swinging freely under her t-shirt, much to the Stanley's unfettered delight.

Then, confounding her most ardent wishes, the situation got exponentially worse as she poured the couple their first cup of java as Kerri, still half-asleep with eyes a-droop and arms stretching to rouse herself into the world of the living, wandered into the kitchen.

Unknowing we had visitors, our unsuspecting lass wore only a tiny pair of pink cotton bikini panties and a matching pink cotton tank top stopping midway down her taut, six-pack tummy, with two loose armholes revealing a scandalous amount of lily-white sideboob.

Brilliantly, or horrifically, depending on your point of view, the brief underthings only emphasized the tremendous development of our delightful daughter's firm D-cup tits, finely tuned ass, and lean, lithe body, confirming she was now most definitely a young woman and no longer the kid doing cartwheels hoping to impress her beloved elderly neighbors.

"I thought I smelled coffee," Kerri yawned, fully inside the kitchen before realizing her mother wasn't alone. "Ohh! Gams! Gamps! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here."

I'm sure it was an odd juxtaposition for Kerri.

Since her notorious night at the Saddle Club, with her fantasies of a magical evening with Nate Wagnell dashed and her fate sealed, our poor daughter had spent another few nights working as a high-class hooker, selling her body to well-heeled clients at the Club and other venues.