Jonathan Everest - The tortured tourists

"Now, if you do as you are told, we will take the pictures, and you will go to get the money. When you return, and we wait a while to be sure that you have not been followed, we will take the money, let you burn the pictures, then release all of you. Do you not see the beauty and simplicity of my plan?"

"But… but… there must be some other kind of blackmail you can work. This… this… incestuous thing you imply is too… too grotesque to be rational. I beg of you…"

"No. There will be no changes in my plans. This type of photo I know you will be anxious to recover. Therefore, I am confident in the value of the plan. Now, do not waste any more time, or your lovely daughter will suffer for your hardness of head. Move!"

Fleming, shaken terribly, turned to his daughter. As he lay beside her, he whispered his misery and hopeless helplessness to her. As he put his arms around her, he hoped that she could keep her young mind from being affected by this horrible circumstance.

"Darla, baby. Forgive me for having gotten you into such a terrible situation. I don't think we have any choice, if he means what he says." He felt her tender young body tremble under his embrace.

"You couldn't help it, Daddy Chuck. Don't blame yourself. And he does mean everything he says. I know it! We'll have to do just what we're told, and try not to let it get us down."

"You're a great sport, honey. I've always known that, I guess. But I never would have believed that you'd be forced to prove it like this!"

"Enough of the tenderness! Let us now have some real poses. Yvette! Over here with the camera!" The sleazy Yvette moved around the bed until she had a good view of the models.

"Okay. Mr. Fleming, place your left hand on Darla's right hip, and take her breast in your mouth."

Fleming's eyes were full of pain as he slowly started to respond. Darla flashed him a look of compassion, then closed her eyes as she spoke.

"Go ahead, Daddy Chuck. The better we cooperates the sooner it will be over."

He felt the warm, young flesh under his fingers, and it stirred him, in spite of his horror at the immorality of the thing. And as his lips touched her firm, virginal breasts, he knew again the thrill that had run through him the first time he'd kissed Ann's tender globes. The springy nipple which blossomed under his oral caress popped between his lips, and he squeezed it in passionate reflex before he realized what he was doing.

"Take his tool in your hand, Darla. Quickly!" ordered Gerault.

She gingerly reached down between them and found his semisoft member. As her fingers moved through his wiry thatch and encountered their target, Darla felt a tingling tremor course through her. The forbidden nature of the act they were forced into made it even more exciting than she would have believed. In spite of her initial inner decision to remain aloof as she complied with Gerault's commands, she couldn't prevent the triggering of her libido.

It called back to her in vivid imagery the scene by the pool at home. The lusty member she had envied her mother's possessing was now in her grasp. She squeezed it gently, reveling in the erotic feel of his hardening length. A tiny moan escaped her lips.

"Now, Fleming, you repay her kindness by caressing her little pussy." His tone revealed his enjoyment with the scene, and his command of their actions.

Fleming tried. He honestly strained to force his hand into the forbidden forest of his daughter's genital area. But the knowledge of what he was about to do was too much for his years of prescribed morality, and his hand jerked back the moment it touched her golden feathers.

"I can't do it! I just can't!" he groaned, hating himself for his helplessness, caught between the inevitable hammer of the physical torture threaten ing Darla, and the immovable anvil of his innate psychic block.

Gerault had lit a cigarette as Fleming's hand reneged. Now, the Frenchman blew on the glowing tip, and swiftly pressed it against the girl's buttock. She screamed her pain and outrage as the tender flesh blistered.

"From this point on," promised Gerault, "it will be the face which is burned. Perhaps much plastic surgery will be required." The tortured look in Fleming's eyes underwent a change. The indecision was gone, and in its place was beaten resignation.

His hand moved into the golden curls of his daughter's most private area, and he felt the dampness surrounding the nether lips. Her thighs separated to receive his attentions, and his fingertips fell on her surprisingly swollen little bud. Her hips moved to help him get started, and soon he was providing the massage motions, with only an occasional thrust of her agile young hips.

"Take my breast in your mouth, again," Darla whispered. Fleming, taking it for a warning against not being cooperative enough, hastened to comply. His lips found the firm mound, and trailed up its satin slope to the pink-capped peak, and seized the spongy blossom. His tongue automatically toyed with the delicious morsel, and Darla's humming sound was a familiar melody, so much like Ann's responses.

The performers were dimly aware of snapping-shutter sounds, and the subsequential tearing of exposed film packs. But they began to be carried away by their treacherous sexualities.

Darla's hand was moving, slowly, gently milking the fleshy lance in her grasp, and Fleming's heavy breathing started to be interspersed with mild groans, as his passion increased.

The girl's lubricious flow was creaming Fleming's hand, and he used it expertly to provide continuous protection for her erect little thorn, as he continued to caress its tender surface. Her legs opened wider to him, and she maneuvered her hips to capture a finger in the swelling softness of her melting passage. As it entered her, the thumb took over the massage duties of the upper area, and her excitement became boundless.

She turned toward him more, and with her free hand moved his head to place the delightful suction on the neglected breast.

As his finger probed her flowing depths, the tender morsel of her nipple quivered under his tasting tongue, Fleming lost himself completely in the remembered lusts of his youth. It was the young Ann whose body he now possessed, so firmly but softly yielding to his assault. And the girl's nymph-like responses to his every action led him further into the trap.

Darla's mind also tricked her as her inner lusts were triggered by the circumstances, and she cried out her needs.

"Drink me! Oh, I'm so full I'm bursting! Drink me up!"

The lustful words triggered Fleming's own reflexes, and he let his hand slide from its slippery refuge as his mouth moved downward from the wetly-nippled breast, across the sleek belly and into the blonde forest below.

Darla's leg moved under his chest as she withdrew it from beneath him to lay it across his bask. Then his lips sought the swollen rim of the flowing fountain, and his tongue caressed the fleshy petals as they opened still further to him. His hands reached upward to grasp the twin fullnesses of her aching breasts, and she moaned constantly as her hips moved beneath his head.

Then a gigantic tremor shook her, and a rippling quiver traveled over her body as she found release.

But she could see under his chest and belly, and the extended rod of her sire magnetized her.

Oh! I've got to have that! It's so swollen and loaded, and it was my body that made it that way! She twisted herself around and pulled her flooding fountain from Fleming's lips, as she used elbows and hands and feet to reach under his arched body.

Her hand seized the fleshy shaft and brought it down to her questing lips. As she ringed the purple-red tip with her mouth, her hand slipped back to caress the sac behind it, then her other hand grasped the weapon at its base. She searched the entire circumference of the tip with her tongue, then thrust tenderly into the small orifice and wiggled gently. The throbbing of his pulse was communicated to her as it swelled in reflex.