Heather Brown - Wild housewife

"Say, Mom," Susan said, "isn't the state prison in this county?"

"Yes," I answered. "Just a few miles from here. The authorities figure that if it's out here in the sticks there'll be no place to escape to if someone breaks out."

"Then the guy they're talking about on the TV could be tramping around in these woods," Susan said with a chill, the first time I'd seen her scared in a long while. Now a maturing young woman of sixteen, my daughter was usually remarkably poised under stress.

Suddenly the howling cry of an animal menacingly filled the night.

"Bloodhounds!" Susan gasped. "The authorities do think that bastard's around here!"

The reporter on television was still talking about the jailbreak, and now he said what neither Susan nor I wanted to hear. "Slaughter is thought to be in the Pines Forest area…"

"That's us." Susan gulped.

"… Warden Wheeler of the state prison says Slaughter should be considered extremely dangerous. The warden was quoted as saying that Slaughter probably feels he has nothing to lose because he's scheduled to be executed already, so he's capable of any atrocity… Now back to our regularly scheduled program."

The sitcom came back on in the middle of a pretty funny joke, but we weren't laughing. Susan wasn't the only one who was frightened now.

"Duke Slaughter," I finally forced myself to say. "Isn't he the one who raped all those women and then slashed their throats?"

Susan nodded her head. Her face was pale in spite of all the time she spent outdoors. Poor thing.

"You just wait here, darling," I rose to the occasion and tenderly stroked her. "I'll barricade the door and it'll make you feel a lot safer, you'll see."

Leaving Susan trembling in bed, I got up and started searching for anything solid I could throw up against the doors. Starting on the front entrance first, I piled two chairs and a table against it and was convinced it was impregnable.

It probably was, too. Unfortunately, however, a kitten could still walk through the still unfortified back door.

It was anything but a kitten, though, abruptly stomping around in the kitchen.

Brute came alive and started violently barking at the intruder. But then there was a brutal thwack, the sound of a body falling, and silence except for advancing footsteps. Anybody strong enough to take care of Brute was somebody I didn't want to meet.

Acting instinctively, I ran across the room and scrambled under the bed. In my stark terror, I had temporarily forgotten all about the vulnerable Susan.

By the time I realized I had abandoned my daughter, it was too late to act. A pair of muddy workboots had tromped into the room, and I could hear a man snorting like a bull.

"Heh-heh-heh," he laughed. "Lookie here at this sweet teenage meat. It's like God wanted me to find it. He musta led me here."

Abruptly I recalled that in addition to his other problems, I had read that Duke Slaughter was a religious fanatic. At his trial he'd claimed God had ordered him to rape and kill his hapless victims.

"P-please," Susan was barely able to force herself to speak, she was so terrified. "P-please leave me alone."

"The Man Upstairs wouldn't like that, little girl," Slaughter mumbled thickly, sounding like a low-grade dimwit. "No, The Big Fella wouldn't like that one bit after we went to all the trouble to bring me here. It was like I was one of them three wise men followin' a star."

"Are… are you going to… to rape me?" Susan's voice quavered.

"Damn straight," the big man smacked his lips. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you, little lady."

"And you claim God wants you to do that?" Susan asked incredulously.

"No doubt about it. Why do you think I broke outta the slammer? To get away from all that sinful homosexuality and find myself the kinda hole to fuck that the Bible says is right. Now you just help me do God's work by opening up your fine legs, little girl."

"And if I don't?" she defiantly asked.

"I'll blow your friggin' brains out with this here gun I took off a guard, and then screw your damn corpse."

Spread your legs, I was mentally screaming to Susan. Do what he wants. It's better to be raped than dead. He probably murdered his other victims because they were foolish enough to resist. Relax and enjoy it, Susan!

After a tense pause, I heard Slaughter say, "Mmmmmm, that's it, honey. You've got a sweet, young cunt. The kind ol' Duke likes best-about sixteen years old I'd guess."

Well, he may have been a moron, but Slaughter was an expert when it came to young pussy.

"My sister was just about your age when I started fucking her," the escaped convict continued. "Her cunt was so tight in them days, it still hurts my pecker to think about it. Too bad she grew up and got married and had all them kids-the last time I screwed her, her pussy was like a damn gas main."

Then all I could hear was Slaughter's obscenely hard breathing. It was interrupted by the screech of a zipper whirring downward. Looking out from under the bed, I could see his filthy pants fall to the floor.

"What do you think of my dick, little girl?"

"It-it's certainly big," Susan choked.

"I know, God made me a special present of it," Slaughter said. "Every pansy on death row was beggin' me to fuck 'em in the ass."

"I-I don't know if I'd be able to take it all," Susan whimpered.

"The harder the struggle, the tighter the fit," the convict lewdly laughed. "I already told you ol' Duke likes a tight pussy. And your little slit looks like a damn dandy, girlie."

All of a sudden the bed started to rattle above me. Apparently Susan was struggling.

No, no, darling, I wanted to implore her. Take it easy. Relax and enjoy it. Let him fuck you and live!

Of course there was no way I could actually speak. Slaughter was far too big and powerful for me. My only chance was to surprise him.

"I see you're a regular wildcat," Slaughter rasped to Susan. "I'll show you how Duke Slaughter handles wildcats. Just like Daniel in the lion's den."

After a split second that seemed to last forever, a chilling smack filled the air. Then the depression in the mattress from Susan's body abruptly lifted. Glancing to my right from under the bed, I saw my daughter landing on the floor from the awesome force of Slaughter's blow. Her mouth was bleeding from the punch, her tawny legs spread from the impact of the fall.

Now the convict's bare limbs came into view, framing my daughter's trembling, naked body.

The stark fear in my child's bugging eyes told me that the sight of Slaughter's hard-on must be fearsome. I found myself wishing he'd turn to the side so I could see it for myself.

Then, my wish came true. For some reason he shifted his position forty-five degrees to the right and was stroking his prick.

Duke Slaughter was a big, big man by any standard-but his cock was even bigger. It was impossible by all standards.

I won't even attempt to estimate its length. Let's just say that it definitely exceeded Firestreak's stallion equipment.

Duke Slaughter was one crook who didn't need to arm himself. He had his own deadly weapon growing like a bludgeon from between his legs.

When the shadow of his hard-on was across her face, Slaughter looked down at Susan and growled, "How do you want it, little sister?"

"Wha… what are my choices?" my daughter bravely gulped.

"Asshole or cunt," he tersely answered. I could see her wince, as I felt myself do the same. The prospect of Slaughter's phallic monster up a sixteen-year-old girl's exceptionally tight anus was frightening.

"Okay," Susan wearily gave in. "Go ahead and fuck my pussy. I promise I won't fight you any more."

Good girl!

Maybe things would work out after all. If Susan didn't struggle, then Slaughter would get all wrapped up in fucking her. When he turned his back to me again, I'd crawl out from under the bed and bash him over the head with a lamp or something.