Cursed: Rebirth of the Idol

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and people need to understand that it is for entertainment purposes only. Note that all characters engaged in sexual activity in the story are over the age of eighteen (18) years old. The term 'teen' or 'teenager' can easily refer to a person who is eighteen or nineteen! I am happy to say that the original story 'Cursed: The Idol of Lesbos' has been picked up by director Margo Sullivan and put to film. Hopefully the popularity of these tales will continue both in film and in story format with support and encouragement from you fans!

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Later that week, Margaret and Robert Hitch sat in the living room watching TV. It was a typical late evening for the couple as they relaxed from the day. It would be a fun filled summer, with plenty of trips planned for their last summer with their daughters. Eighteen years had flown by and now her kids were young women getting ready to go off to college. They had crossed one hurdle with the girls' dad coming for a visit -- Arturo still had hang-ups over the divorce and Margaret remarrying. He never liked her new husband Robert and felt he wasn't well involved. The truth was Robert was typically concerned about money and academics and what kind of trouble the twins might get into away from home, but Margaret had deeper concerns; concerns she couldn't put her finger on.

"Robert, have you noticed anything weird about the girls recently?" his wife asked out of the blue.

Robert paused the show and rewound it so that he could catch what the doctor was telling the patient, "No, not really." He pressed play again.

Margaret interrupted again, "You don't think they've been rather anti-social? I mean, they both broke up with their boyfriends the same week. They didn't go to any parties after graduation. And their room is actually clean. They're not even complaining about having to share a room anymore."

He pressed pause once more, "Maybe they're still upset about that Buchanan girl vanishing?" His wife didn't respond immediately and so he pressed play.

No sooner than the show was back on was Margaret responding, "No, they didn't even like that girl. I was half surprised to find out they didn't stuff her body in the wall." Margaret was joking, of course, but knew full well that Tilly Buchanan was a point of frustration for her daughters after every field hockey game.

He pressed pause again and sighed. "So they aren't hanging around with their dopey boyfriends and they aren't out drinking. They aren't complaining and they're actually pulling their own weight around here for once. What's the problem here?"

"I don't know... Nothing I guess. Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Margaret hadn't been sleeping well lately. Her dreams were fitful but she couldn't remember them upon waking, but her husband complained she was rolling about and waking him up. It was a perfect night to turn in early.

The middle aged woman walked up the steps in her bare feet, the summer heat banishing slippers to the underside of the bed for another five months. Margaret walked past the girls' room with the door slightly ajar. She wasn't really peaking in on them and her mind was elsewhere, but as she passed she witnessed from the corner of her eye her daughters sitting very close to each other on the bed. Their faces were pressed close to each other as if they were...

She stopped and turned around, pushing their door open without knocking. Both girls were sitting side by side on Lisa's bed, still as does, reading magazines.

Margaret questioned them, "What are you girls doing?"

"Just reading, mom," Leslie replied.

"You weren't just....?"

"Weren't doing what, mom?" Lisa asked innocently.

"Nothing," Margaret shook her head. "Nothing at all. Goodnight." She shrugged it off, thinking how funny it was how the mind would play tricks on you. She heard them call back 'goodnight' as well and decided to get some sleep.

Later that night, Margaret rolled fitfully about while Robert slept soundly next to her. The dream seemed so alien, so strange, as if it wasn't her own. She was standing in her daughters' room which was lit in an orange and pink light. The room was slanted, as if the house was built on a hill. Lisa and Leslie were walking mirror image of each other, walking around to the sides of their beds and sliding them together so that the mattresses touched. The dream tilted again in the opposite direction and her daughters climbed onto their respective beds and crawled toward each other to meet in the middle. As their faces drew close, their mouths opened and her daughters began kissing. Their tongues swirled teasingly against one another as their clothes seemed to melt away.

Margaret tried screaming at them to stop, but her voice made no sound. She couldn't understand why her daughters would be kissing like that. Then touching. Then fondling. Their breasts were pressing against each other, sliding, nipples hardening. Their twin bodies moving in perfect coordination as they sapphicly delighted each other.

The dream changed again and Margaret was floating above their joined bed, watching her daughters climb onto one another in a sixty-nine position. Their nude bodies bent and squirmed as they buried their mouths in between each other's thighs, groaning in pleasure at the same time. As a pair they rolled about the blankets, cooing and wailing, inseparable, inviolate, incestuous.

Her dream held Margaret helpless as she was eye level watching her own daughters commit a sinful act with each other. It was so strange, so nightmarish, yet so detailed. She could hear Leslie slurping at Lisa's mound. She could smell the sex from their taboo act. She could feel the heat from their sweaty bodies. Above them against the wall was that Buchanan girl who went missing as she masturbated noisily. She was on her knees, her fingers shoved deeply into her hole, only she wasn't alive but a statue. And behind Tilly Buchanan was somebody else, a female form, soft and out of focus and...

Margaret opened her eyes as she bolted straight up in bed. Panic and disgust swam over her face as she breathed heavily.

"What!? Whoa! What the hell?!" she stammered.

It was daylight and the bed was empty. She looked at the clock and saw it was already 9:30. Robert was long at work. Her mind was reeling from the strange dream; why would she have such a perverse nightmare like that? Margaret pulled her dark hair from her face and tried calming down, her mind attempting to piece together why such things would invade her sleep. Perhaps it was she who was upset about Tilly Buchanan coming up missing? Perhaps it was the girls acting in an atypical fashion, combined with the fact that she thought she saw them kissing last night, that fit together into a bizarre sexual dream?

Emotionally distraught, the mother of two got up and showered, shaved her legs, and put on some shorts and a light blouse so that the air conditioning didn't need to be blasting. As she walked about gathering laundry, it became obvious that nobody was in the house. The twins must have gotten up early and gone out. They probably went up to the pool if it meant getting this early. Perhaps it was for the best though - Margaret wasn't sure she wanted to see her daughters just yet after the bizarre dream last night.

She made her way down to the kids' room and grabbed the hamper, dumping out all of their dirty clothes into one main bin which she carried to the laundry room. Absentmindedly she sorted them into piles by color and made her loads for washing. As Margaret separated the clothing, she pulled her fingers back instinctively from something wet. Looking down she found a pair of Lisa's panties (or were they Leslie's? It was hard to distinguish) with a glob of slick clear gel along the waist band and the crotch was damp too. Margaret curled up her nose in disgust, wondering what the gel was. While it could have been some sort of medicated cream, it certainly didn't look like it or feel like it. It felt like lubricating gel for sex.

Margaret went through the laundry more cautiously now, inspecting her daughters' clothes. She wasn't a prude and figured they were having sex already, but this was recent and supposedly both twins weren't seeing their boyfriends any longer. She found another pair of panties with the crotch stiff and encrusted, but this time she found lipstick marks along the front of the panties. Something was clearly wrong here. Margaret dumped the darks into the washer and made her way back upstairs to the twins' room. Over the years the two of them had made weekly pleadings to give them separate rooms, but they had been in the same room since they were born. As the years went on, the house evolved to 'absorb' the remaining bedroom, turning it into an office-study room combo. With them heading off to college, it made no sense to change the living arrangements.

Their room was pristine. There was a place for everything and everything was in its place. Strangely the room was 'too' clean. The beds were perfectly made, the vanities nicely organized. No dirty clothes, no candy wrappers, no papers lying about or cell phone accessories underfoot. As her eyes scanned the dresser she noticed a tiny scrap of paper with four numbers on it: 2697. It didn't have anything else associated with it, so she tucked it back under the lipstick tube that it was held down with. The shade of the lipstick looked like the one from the underwear stains.

Margaret opened up the top dresser drawer and ran her hands underneath the clothes, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing she inspected the next drawer, then the next one. Empty handed she went through the closet, through jacket pockets, through their large purses. Nothing. There was something in the room though, Margaret could almost feel it. Her kids were just not this well behaved! She got down on her knees and looked under Lisa's bed and saw a dark red trunk with a combination lock on it. Pulling it out, Margaret inspected the box; it wasn't anything she ever bought and the lock was unfamiliar as well. Flipping it upside down, she poked at the four dials on the bottom all set to zeros. Yanking on it she found it locked, but then quickly remembered the scrap of paper. She got up, grabbed it from the dresser, then returned to the floor and rolled the combination into place.

2. 6. 9. 7. Click.

The lock opened. Her hands were shaking as she pulled the lock from the hasp and opened the lid, half expecting to find drugs. Instead, what she found was even more disturbing. Sex toy cleaner. A half dozen vibrators. A long double-headed dildo. A pair of strap-on dildos, one pink and one purple. Leather cuffs - four of them. A pink rubber ball with a strap attached to it - Margaret had no idea what it was for. She flipped it upside down and noticed teeth marks in it. It was some type of gag to put in your mouth! But the box wasn't empty yet. There were lesbian DVDs, dozens of them. 'Rug Munchers', 'Vagitarians', 'All Girl Sex Fest'. And lingerie by the handful, all of it wreaking of latex from the toys.

"Lisa is a lesbian?!" she spoke out loud. "How did I miss that?" Margaret sat back in disappointment, staring at the huge box of porn. As she sat there, her eyes shifted to Leslie's bed and noted an identical red trunk, with an identical lock. Margaret's hands were shaking as she pulled the trunk forward, and tried to unlock it. The combination 2697 didn't work. Margaret brought herself back up on her feet and was about to search around for the combination when everything went dark.

Something covered her whole head - a fabric of some type. She could see light through the material but nothing definitive. As Margaret tried to pull the material off her, she found her arms restrained and somebody else grabbing at her legs. She screamed which brought a hand to cover her mouth, shoving the cloth against her lips tightly while the other hands picked up on her and tossed her to one of the beds. There was a knee in her back and her arms were pulled forcefully back - Margaret couldn't even think straight straight as she thrashed about, trying to call for help. Then the panic truly set in when her shorts and panties were being yanked down and around her ankles. More pulling, more fruitless resisting, and she knew there was at least two attackers with ill intent tying up her hands.

Escape! Help! These were the only things she could think of while her shirt was ripped apart and her bra yanked forcefully off. She was then thrown onto her stomach and the fabric bag removed from her head and tossed to the side. She recognized it as a pillowcase from the laundry. Had she left the side door by the laundry room open? Her face was shoved forward as she tried to turn to see her attackers and something rubbery shoved in her mouth. The ball shaped gag was being attached to her head and snapped in place, its material prying her mouth open so as to not hurt her teeth. Held down and secured tightly, all Margaret could do was wait for the next wave of horror.

"What should we do with her, Lisa?" Leslie's voice came from behind.

"Convert her?" Lisa answered with a question.

"Hmmm, sounds fun. But let's play with her first like we did with Isabella. It's so fun watching them squirm!"

"Even better..." Lisa made a yummy sound as she flipped Margaret over and stared into her mother's terrified eyes. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun, mom. Just wait and see what your little girls have grown up into."

Margaret looked from one of her daughters to the next then shook her head, pleading with grunts and cries for mercy that would not come. Her fair skin was red and blotchy and contrasted against the light brown skin of her daughters. Their complexion was many shades lighter than Arturo's, but they still looked to be quite different from either parent.

It started with them playing with her breasts, sucking on them, pulling on them, caressing them. Lisa and Leslie worked down their mother's body mirror image, as if the whole perverse event was orchestrated and her daughters were mere puppets. As her tears streamed down her face and into her hair, Margaret felt her nipples involuntarily harden in her daughters' mouths. Their hands were cupping her ample breasts as well as exploring her body in a way only her husband and a few men had ever done. Never a woman though and certainly never her own flesh and blood. They broke their tonguing massage to enjoy a deep lesbian kiss over her breasts; it was a flashback to her nightmare and Margaret wondered if this was yet another terrible dream. Lisa and Leslie's hands prying open her legs reinforced that it was all too real.

The duo worked their way down her belly, kissing and biting and licking and touching. Margaret tried squeezing her legs together, but the two of them overpowered her easily and pulled her knees wide apart.

"Wow!" Lisa exclaimed, looking at her mother's pussy. "We haven't been down here for awhile."

Leslie laughed cruelly and lapped at her mother's pussy to the alternating sounds of screams and sobs. Lisa nestled against her sister and nuzzled her face close by, flicking her tongue across Margaret's exposed clit. The stimulation caught her off guard and she jumped at the tingling that shot up her body. More licking, more touching, more everything as the tingles turned to a deeper stimulation. It was almost pleasurable, but Margaret didn't want to enjoy it. These were her daughters, and they were sexually assaulting her! She didn't understand why it was happening, but it certainly wasn't anything to be enjoyed. And yet there they were, licking her, fighting over her mound with their tongues, making her feel excited deep in her belly in ways only Robert had managed. She didn't want this!

Leslie was snaking her tongue up inside of her while Lisa was busy sucking on her clit. Lisa's left hand was busy pulling and rubbing her mom's nipples while Leslie humped her mother's leg like an animal. The more they performed, the wetter Margaret got and the crazier it drove them. The twins were like sharks in a feeding frenzy, only in this case it was their mother's juices that drove them mad with lust. She tried to fight the orgasm that they had been building for her, but it was no use. The floodgates opened and Margaret jerked against the restraints, her body filled with pleasure while her mind was filled with disgust. Somehow, inexplicably, her twin daughters had become lesbian rapists that had fallen so far morally that they attacked their own mother. How could they!?

"Shit, Leslie! That was so fucking hot!" Lisa giggled.

Leslie responded, "I know! It makes me wish we had done this earlier."

"Well we were busy with Francine, Becky, Isabella, Sarah, Megan..."

"...Shakeesha, Robin, Robin's cousin... You know we never did get her name."

"We didn't find out that sales girl's name either, or the woman from the recruiting station."

"Well, I think she was already a lesbian, so she doesn't really count. Who are we missing?"

"Oh! Don't forget Coach Yasmine. She had us busy for a long time!"

"How could I forget!" Lisa looked at her mother, "You see, mom, you always told us that practice makes perfect. Well we've been practicing for a while, and now we're ready to make this a perfect day."

Both girls climbed off their mom and reached down into the open red trunk on the floor. Leslie grabbed the purple strap-on dildo while Lisa adorned the pink one. They each then took turns coating the toys in lubricant from a large tube that was virtually empty. "Wow, this is the second tube we've gone through in a week," Lisa remarked. Both daughters turned and faced Margaret now, rubbing their greased up hands over the large phalluses and climbing up on the bed. As they drew closer the abused mother noticed that these toys were bigger than her husband's penis and cringed at the idea that Lisa and Leslie were about to put them in her. But that was indeed what her daughters intended as Leslie maneuvered behind her and undid the cuffs holding her wrists. Instead of letting Margaret go, however, Leslie forcefully held her arms back, restraining her mother so that Lisa could position herself between her mother's legs.

The pink dildo dangling from Lisa's groin was poised at Margaret's opening, the tip sliding along her slit, the bulbous head barely penetrating within. She tried to pull her hips back, but found the task daunting. Instead, she was left with moving her torso about so that Lisa struggled to find her hole. Leslie grew frustrated and yanked her mother's hair back hard and hissed in her ear, "Stop it, bitch! You're getting fucked whether you like it or not. And to be honest I hope you don't like it. Yeah, that's it mom. Cry while your own daughters take your cunt!"

Lisa took the distraction as her opportunity to shove the toy into her mom, deeply and quickly. Margaret let out a wail as her daughter penetrated her in the most vile act yet. Her mumbling sobs from behind the rubber ball gag fell on the cruel deaf ears of her demented children while the dildo pistoned in and out of her. A brief look at the toy shocked her as it was cream covered; not man cream from her husband but her own cream. Betrayed by her daughters, betrayed by her own body, the violation compounded as the physical stimulation built up against her wishes. It was unfathomable that such a horrific act would cause Margaret to become aroused, but it was happening nonetheless. Perhaps that was the worst part of all?

They flipped her over and back into many positions, taking her and using her wickedly. The ball gag had been removed somewhere along the way, but even with her now verbal pleads to stop, Leslie and Lisa continued. Margaret was exhausted, her leg muscles too weak to sit up and her arms too exhausted to fight back. Leslie was underneath her pushing the strap-on upwards while Margaret bounced helplessly on top.