Note: All characters in the following story are 18 years of age or older. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.
The DeVilles Chapter 3: Can you keep a secret?
Rachel DeVille strutted through her kitchen, her terrycloth shorts clinging to her firm round ass as it swished past the serving area. She busied herself with the dishwasher, putting away last night's plates and making sure the sink sparkled.
When a pair of hands squeezed her delectable butt as she bent over the countertop, she moaned sensuously. When she turned around and confirmed it was her teenage daughter Jessi, she casually wrapped her arms around the temptress' waist and squeezed her skirt-covered ass in return.
Giggling wickedly, the daughter leaned forward and kissed her mom, slipping her triple-pierced tongue against Rachel's own. The gold barbells clicked softly as the two women groaned and pressed their bulging breastflesh together.
"Mmm... you're such a piece of ass, mom."
"Want a taste?" The brunette licked her lips, her baby girl squealing happily as her mother's hand slipped under her g-string and into her pierced cunt from behind.
"I'd love to sweetie, but I need to help Ray with some new girls."
"Lucky slut." Rachel smirked.
"No rest for the wicked." Jessi licked her lips and winked naughtily, shaking her ass for Rachel's benefit.
"Don't stay out too late, baby. Your father said he has something important to share with us tonight."
"Oh, phoo," Jessi pouted, "I can do a lot more if I stay at the club when things get busy."
"I know, I know. But Daddy said you and your sister have to be here."
Jessi's eyes glossed over at the prospects a family gathering presented. She pinched one of her pierced nipples and shivered with desire.
"Fine, mommy. Save some cock for me." She grinned cattily and headed out.
Rachel laughed and shook her head. Her daughters were easily the most promiscuous creatures she'd ever known. Of course, she was a complete nymphomaniac herself, but propriety and her husband's important work demanded she maintain the appearance of a normal yet extremely attractive homemaker.
But still, she all too often found herself pent up in the house or maintaining the illusion of being an ordinary citizen of Blanton. It wore on her, and lonely days like this one usually found her alone in bed, frigging away her boredom.
Movement outside the kitchen window caught her notice. Peering out, she saw a boy trying to hide behind the oak tree in her backyard. He stared into her kitchen with wide eyes, paralyzed when she realized he had seen her.
One of his hands held a flailing leash attached to a rambunctious dog. The teenager worriedly looked down to the dog, then towards the gate, knowing he could never get his pet out of the DeVille's yard before Rachel cornered him.
How long had he been out there? Rachel couldn't help but wonder. Had he seen the mid-morning fondle she and her daughter had shared? That wouldn't be good. Stan didn't have to tell her that only members of their special cadre could know what secretly went on in their home.
And then Rachel remembered what she'd promised to do for her husband the night before. Anything, Master.
She smiled and waved to the boy, motioning him to come into the house.
***
Next door to the DeVille house, Jared Michelson feverishly poured over the notes he'd accumulated over the last few months. He'd known something was wrong almost a year ago when his daughter's friend Christina starting looking and behaving completely different from the middle-schooler he'd remembered from years ago.
Annie wasn't so perceptive, unfortunately, and had remained friends with the girl even as it became clearer and clearer that the teenage tramp was sewing the seeds of evil into his home. It wasn't hard to learn the DeVille's other daughter Jessi had started working at a nearby strip club from practically the second she graduated. What was surprising was how it conflicted with the plans for college she'd made only months before.
Her appearance also changed drastically, the pretty teen morphing into a voluptuous little trollop. Her promiscuity was whispered about in some circles, but no one seemed to admit to any trysts with the girl. It was as if they were protecting her for some reason.
But Jared's tolerance came to an end on the day he came home from work to discover Christina teaching Annie how to french kiss. Not just tentative smooches, either. The DeVille girl was practically molesting his daughter. He immediately forbade the girls from seeing each other again, but the seeds were already sewn.
Christina still hung out with Annie every day at school, and he knew they were meeting without his permission on the weekends. If not for the heart problems Jared developed around that time, he would've paid closer attention to his daughter's activities. The Town Council had been working him to the bone, and his poor health was just another of the consequences. Now he regretted his lapse in parental concern.
At the heart of things, Jared knew Stanley DeVille was responsible for it all. The man had an aura of wrongness about him. Somehow, Jared knew he didn't belong in Blanton. Or America. Maybe anywhere.
There was something unnatural about him, even though the information Jared's detective had gathered on Stan proved useless. He had a perfect record. A more model citizen was hard to find. A year ago, Jared himself would have agreed that Stanley was nearly perfect. Not any more.
And the fact that he'd been to Jared's house the other night... alone with his wife and daughter... Jared didn't want to think it, but something had happened. Annie and his wife Stephanie didn't act as if anything was amiss, but Jared noticed that the sheets on his bed were freshly changed that night. There was also an unusual smell in the bedroom. Jared didn't want to think it...
"Daddy You coming for your breakfast?" His blonde daughter bounced into the room wearing her long pink bathrobe and waving around a spatula.
"Annie? You're still here, honey?"
Annie rolled her eyes. "It's a late start, duh. I don't go in until lunchtime"
