Jon Reskind - Uncle Gaston and niece Voluma One

"Go on, you monster! Fuck it! Beat me! Ram me! Any damned thing you want! I love it… you hear? Love it! Squirt your filthy cum in my ass! I want you to! I want you to!" she screamed back at him breathlessly.

Larreau's cock tingled as if charged with electric current; his balls were alive with fire. He'd tried to inflict unbearable pain upon her but she had accepted it and was asking for more! He couldn't believe it! And… and… and then, he realized that he was going to cum! He was going to shoot a torrent of sperm into her lovely white American ass… the ultimate subjugation… except that she wanted it… she wanted it! Damn her! But he'd never had a woman like her…! Christ, she was all that he'd ever wanted… wasn't she…?

His brain was a turmoil. Her sudden obscene response to his cruel beating and sodomy had suddenly inspired him like an infused satyr. He reached down and pulled her ass-cheeks wide apart, commencing to batter his pelvis against her soft, yielding, reddened buttocks with inhuman whaps that bounced off his own ear-drums. Perspiration from his sweating face dripped onto her lovely hollowing back to make it glisten in the light. His breathing came in short, puffing gasps, his eyes locked on the whiteness of her quivering body that was slipping back over his plunging cock with the snug delight of a fitted velvet glove. Mon Dieu, he was losing all control over the situation, even as his great shaft was growing unbelievingly. His sac hung heavy with its bloated reservoir of sperm, and it had to be emptied soon or he'd burst from the excruciatingly delicious pressure.

Ginny had reached the point where she was mumbling unintelligibly beneath his pounding hips. She waived her ass salaciously back against his unrelenting thrusts. She wanted him to cum. She wanted him to squirt his heavy load of semen right into her bowels. She wanted him to split her crotch wide open and spill his sperm into her until she was completely immersed in its delicious loveliness. She could feel a sopping wetness in the crevice of her ass and any thought of pain had long since left her… as had all other thoughts except that of his magnificent cock battering her asshole. She dropped her shoulders to the floor so that her near-glowing-red buttocks were raised even higher in the air, and the ape-like, frenzied cudgel could fuck into her completely unhindered.

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! It's time!" Larreau choked, tossing back his head and grunting savagely as he thrust his cock's full expanded length into her forever-stretched asshole, his ugly, squat body beginning to jerk convulsively, his mouth falling open slackly and he clawed at her waist and hips with harsh, clutching fingers, pulling her buttocks even wider apart for his prick to wedge yet another fraction of an inch into her.

"Fuck back! Fuck back!" he commanded her.

Ginny, beneath his pounding assault, felt the first exquisite gushes of his hot, white cum splutter into the remote depths of her rectum. It surged through her body with the torrential force of a bursting dam, burning into her heaving belly like seething liquid fire. The delicious sensation tripped her own climax and she screamed as the great maelstrom of pleasure overwhelmed her… until at last, she sensed rivulets of his hot, sticky sperm running down the crevice of her wide-split buttocks to the slit of her open, throbbing cunt… and then he was withdrawing his deflated member inside her… and a welcomed cool rush of air brushed and soothed the unplugged, inflamed hole of her anus as she collapsed forward onto the floor, her breasts heaving spasmodically against the rough nap of the carpet.

She lay, her face turned away from him, reality slowly enveloping her once more as she heard him struggling to his feet, his breathing coming heavily.

For a long moment, Gaston Larreau stared down at her obscenely spread body, a blank expression on his ugly, round face, and then slowly an evil little smile twisted at his rubbery lips. He walked to her vanity and picked up a long handled hair-brush, then returned to bend silently over her, and before she realized what was happening he thrust the blunt-ended handle to the hilt into her already tormented and enchafed rectum.

Ginny screamed with the shock of the vicious and torturing empalement as the little czar, roaring with laughter, joggled toward the door. There, he paused and turned to see her struggling to her knees and reaching behind her to clutch at the protruding end of the brush jutting out of her asshole. Once more, he laughed gleefully.

"Why don't you just leave it in there, pig… you look natural with a tail," he spat.

"Goddamn you! You filthy bastard!" Ginny screamed, jerking the implanted brush from her bottom and throwing it at him as he closed the door behind him, the instrument smashing against it harmlessly.

He was gone then, but she could still hear his laughter as he walked down the hall and she threw herself forward onto the floor, sobbing in near hysterics.

God Almighty! What's ever to become of me?

Rafael Girarde was a handsome man by any measure of standard. He was tall, broad shouldered and lean hipped, wore his well-cut, tailored clothes with a flair, smiled broadly with an open, warm expression, his discerning blue eyes sparkling sincerely, his deep masculine, resonant voice inspiring confidence. Madeleine was particularly taken with his heavy shock of waved, greying hair, the one single tell-tale of his fifty odd years.

She was surprised at his simple, lackluster office, knowing his successful business capacity as an importer and owner of night clubs throughout the city, as well as holding a post as Ministre Of Gouvernment, say nothing of his luxurious home in Mont Royale that she had only seen, of course, from the street. But in all, she was most impressed by the way he made her feel, even after she had told him who she was and why she was there…

"Please, my dear, won't you sit down and be comfortable?" he had offered coming from behind his cluttered desk to place his hand on a chair in a gestured invitation.

Madeleine went to it and seated herself while M. Girarde returned to his place behind the desk. She felt extremely tense and had already begun to question whether she had done the right thing by exposing herself this way… but she'd not rushed into it blindly, without considering Antoine's position. Earlier, she had desperately tried to lead into the subject with her husband, prepared to cleanse her conscience once and for all and beg him to help her recover her child, but his indifferent and preoccupied attitude had finally caused her to give up the idea. Instead, she had struggled through coffee with him, kissing him at the door as she handed him his briefcase, then hurriedly dressed, knowing exactly what she was going to do. Whether Antoine had suspected something was amiss she wasn't certain, nor hardly cared any longer, but certainly their conversation had been strained and he'd acted terrible edgy…

"Well now…" M. Girarde was saying with a pleasant smile, "… you have already brightened my day to no end, Madame Poirier… for at last, I understand why Igat is such a beautiful child… her mother is a ravishing beauty."

Madeleine blushed immediately; she dropped her eyes in sincere, if, gentle embarrassment. "You're most kind, M'sieu', but I must admit that I don't feel very ravishing… coming to you with my sordid story this way…"

"Ah, ma chere, but you mustn't degrade yourself over an unfortunate affaire d'amour," said M. Girarde suavely. "How is it they say…? It is better to have loved and lost than never to…"

"That was not the situation at all, M'sieu'," Madeleine interrupted quickly. "I assure you, it was not…"

Rafael Girarde shrugged his broad shoulders. "So… what difference," he said, his warm smile always prevalent. He leaned back in his chair, joining his hands at fingertips. "How can I help you, ma chere?"