PROLOGUE
The front door was unlocked. This was Hunter's first indication that something wasn't quite right at home. The quiet bedroom community where he lived with his father wasn't exactly the kind of place where homes were locked up like fortresses, but in the middle of the day, with Hunter at school and his father at work, the door should have been bolted. Of course, he shouldn't have been home anyway. With two hours left in the schoolday, Hunter had played hooky, leaving early for home and the video games he hoped to play until his dad came home at five.
He tucked his key back in his pocket and softly opened the door. As tall as he was for his age, Hunter was still far too young and far too small to stop a burglar, at any rate, but he had no desire to make a potential trespasser aware of his presence.
Their house was a two-story colonial, with stairs to the second floor in front of the landing. To the right, the ample kitchen and breakfast nook stretched toward the back of the house. There was a small table set near the front windows, and a waist-high granite counter curved from the middle of the room toward the far wall and the stainless steel appliances. To the left, a large table occupied the formal dining room, its deep cranberry walls giving it a measure of darkness even when light streamed in from the front windows. Behind the stairs to the right and past the kitchen was an immense family room with the sort of deep leather sectional sofa that you just sank into when you sat down. Mr. Davies' well-worn recliner was opposite the entryway, angled to face the television and the front hall, making it impossible to sneak past him for a late-night snack in the kitchen from the stairs. To the left of the entryway to the family room, the stairs to the basement ran under the stairs to the second floor.
Inside the eerily quiet house, Hunter glanced first to his right and then his left, confirming that both the kitchen and the dining room were empty. He crept past the kitchen and the stairs to check the family room, as empty as the rest of the first floor. A bit more confident but no less confused, Hunter was about to head to his room upstairs when he heard the first noise. It was like nothing he had ever heard -- sharp at first, then soft and muffled, like a broken train. He made his way up the carpeted stairs, closer to the sound. It grew louder with every step, until Hunter could tell that it was actually two noises happening almost at the same time. The second was definitely human, a sort of grunt or moan. It sounded almost pained, but not quite.
He reached the landing and the sounds seemed to be growing in intensity. He could now hear muffled voices, as well, coming from the far end to the left -- his dad's bedroom.
Crack! "Ohh!" Crack! "Ohh!"
He couldn't make out the voices, and he couldn't tell what the cracking noise was, but Hunter was surprised to discover that at least the moans he heard were too high-pitched for any man. His mom and dad had been divorced for years; what was a woman doing in his house, let alone in his dad's bedroom?
As he approached the half-open door, Hunter was shocked to hear a voice that sounded like his dad's but deeper and more gravelly than he had even heard. And the things he was saying! As he knelt by the doorway, Hunter heard dirtier words than any playground thug could ever dream up, punctuated by what he know discovered to be the sound of a belt cracking against bare skin.
"That's it, you whore!" Crack! "Prancing around with your tits out for everyone to see!" Crack! "Can't even bother to wear panties to cover your soaking little cunt!" Crack! "Like you're just waiting to land on a cock!" Crack!
The words alone would have been enough to shock the boy, but the scene in front of him made Hunter's mind shut down almost immediately. His father was standing at the end of the bed with his shirt off and his back toward the door, a long leather belt dangling from his right hand. In front of him, Hunter saw a woman standing on wobbling knees, her arms stretched high above her. Her wrists were cuffed together with black straps. A longer rope connected the cuffs to a silver eye bolt screwed into the ceiling, with the loose end threaded through to hang toward the ground. The effect stretched her body tautly from floor to ceiling, giving her just enough slack to squat a few inches toward the floor as she dangled and swayed from her restraints. Black panties pooled around her right ankle. Hunter stared in awe as his eyes traced the curves of her naked ass and back to the waves of auburn hair hanging between her shoulder blades. A small tattoo that looked like a "G" marked her left collarbone. The mirror on his father's low dresser was set on a slight angle, just enough for Hunter to glimpse the front of the woman when she swung to the right. He worried at first that she might see him, but his fear went away the moment her face came into view. She was blindfolded.
The sharp crack of the belt snapped Hunter's eyes away from the reflection, and he stared at the bright red mark the belt -- his father's belt -- had left on the woman's backside seconds before. It looked like it hurt, he was sure it hurt, but the sound escaping from her lips wasn't pain. Was she enjoying this?
Hunter watched with growing fascination as his father gripped the woman's hair, pulled her head back and said gruffly, "Be honest. Were you out chasing cock? Were you getting off thinking of giving some stranger a hard-on as you walked past? Tell me, whore!" The woman muttered something softly.
"I can't hear you, bitch!"
"Yes! Yes! I'm sorry!" Her hair bound around his father's hand, the woman's body was turned toward the mirror, and Hunter felt the first stirrings between his legs as he stared at the dark nipples of her breasts. Her boobs were large and round and capped with darker skin around the nipples that had to be three fingers across. Hunter's jaw hung slack while another part of his body grew stiffer than it ever had been. He struggled to pay attention to their conversation, if it could be called that.
"What were you going to do, then, huh? Would you let him stick it in you, slut? Just bend you
over right there and fuck you stupid, like the whore you are?!"
"No!" She screamed in response.
"Wrong answer," Mr. Davies replied, as he brought his hand swiftly and sharply across her cheek. "Try again."
The woman whimpered before responding, "If you told me to! I would spread wide open for him if you told me to."
"That's better," Mr. Davies said, almost happily. He gripped the loose end of the rope and let it slide through the eye bolt, allowing her arms to drop a bit. "Now show me what you would have done. Get on your knees."
The woman turned toward Mr. Davies and the door, giving Hunter his first real look at her ample tits and neatly trimmed pussy. She dropped to her knees in front of his father, her arms still raised slightly above her head. Hunter saw his father fumbling with the front of his pants and watched as the slacks fell to the floor. He inched into the doorway carefully and watched as the head of his father's cock slid between the woman's lips. She buried her face in his crotch, moaning, before sliding her lips back toward the head again. After a few long sucks, Mr. Davies' hand cupped her tit, pinching the nipple hard, and she picked up her pace, slamming her face against his belly hard and fast. Hunter started to rub his own cock through his jeans, the hard outline of his shaft pressing tightly against the denim.
After a few short minutes, Hunter's father abruptly through the rope and belt to the ground and, grabbing the woman by her tits, lifted her from the ground and threw her face-down on the bed. Hunter leapt up as quietly and quickly as he could, rushing away from the bedroom and down the stairs just before his dad turned to face the splayed legs laying across the bed.
He snuck back out the front door and wandered the neighborhood in a daze until just after three, returning to his house at his normal time to find it empty, his father and the mystery woman gone. Without so much as a pause, Hunter rushed to his bedroom, slammed the door, and stroked his cock until it was raw and red.
CHAPTER ONE
