Val Marrick - Roped and raped family

Coe tried to sit up. She couldn't get her upper body higher than a forty-five degree angle. She looked at her mother. Her defiant haughtiness was gone. In its place was fear. She'd crossed Jake, who'd shown that it didn't take much to provoke him to savage reprisal. What would he do to a girl who'd set her dog on him?

Jeanette stared helplessly back at her daughter. There was nothing she could do. All her instincts told her to leap at Bob and try to overpower him, to wrest away the shotgun. She held herself in check. Bob didn't look as if he wanted to shoot anyone, but he also didn't look as if he knew bow to handle a shotgun – which meant that if so much as startled he'd probably let the thing off and shoot Jeanette – or, worse, one of her children. She sat helplessly, oddly thinking how lovely her daughter was. It had been a long time since she'd seen the girl nude.

She shut her mouth quickly, looking scared. She still hadn't completely adjusted to the fact that these two outsiders were completely in control. Her house was no longer her castle.

The disconsolate family trooped obediently out the front door, past the screened porch onto the small lawn before the house. Overhead the sun had passed the zenith. It was bright and hot out in front of the ranch house.

Bob made Jack and Jeanette sit side by side against the wall of the house. "You heard what Jake said, Blondie," he said. He stepped behind her to loose her bonds, then prodded her with the gun.

"My name's Betsy," the girl said sullenly. She lifted her pretty oval face and glared at him defiantly with clear blue eyes.

The effect would have been better if her limber adolescent's body hadn't been utterly nude. Her tits were high and firm and hadn't begun to hang with the ripe roundness of womanhood as her sister's bountiful boobs had.

Bob scowled. "You're whatever Jake says you are. Now, get that hose over there and turn it on and wash out your sister's pussy."

Betsy glowered a moment longer. He made a peremptory movement of the gun.

Slowly, contemptuously, the naked girl turned and walked with unconscious grace to the faucet. She knelt as if unaware of her nakedness, picked up the heavy red rubber hose and turned on the water. The stream glittered like a rain of diamonds in the afternoon sun.

Her tits jiggled as she stood up and walked toward her sister. A spray of water hit Coe on the thigh. She snapped out of her haze.

"Hey, watch it," she said, jerking back her bare leg. "That hose's been lying out in the sun all day. That water's hot!"

Betsy ignored her. Holding the hose so the stream struck Coe's pussy on the gaping lips. Coe bit her lower lip. The stream was too strong to feel very good.

Abruptly Betsy stuck the nozzle of the spurting hose into her sister's pussy. Coe's eyes got wide.

"Oh, ghaaaad!" she screamed. "Get it out!"

She kicked out wildly with her legs, her ass scooting backwards on the grass. With her hands tied behind her, she couldn't coordinate, and she fell flat on her back. Betsy grabbed her by the leg, jamming the brass nozzle even farther up her sister's cunt.

"Coe! What's the matter?" Jeannette cried.

The girl's voice was shrill. "Ahhhhhhh!" she shrieked. "It's hot! Get it out of my PUSSY!" The brass nozzle had been lying in the sunlight for hours. It was almost as hot as if it had been lying on a stove.

Colleen writhed on the grass as if live steam was being pumped into her pussy. She arched her back, rolling her lush ass as if trying to fuck herself on the gushing hose. Water burst in torrents from her cunt, cleansing the remnants of pussy-oil and canine come from the depths of her twat.

The flowing water at last began to cool the sun heated fitting jammed into her pussy. But the fining of her cunt was tender, like a scalded finger. Betsy worked the hard sharp-edged nozzle around in her sister's pussy.

"Betsy," Jeanette asked, eyes wide in horror. "What are you trying to do?"

Almost savagely, the blonde wrenched the nozzle from her sister's pussy. Colleen fell back to the grass. She lay on her back, jugs heaving, eyes wide. It was as if the pain in her pussy was intensified by the knowledge it had been inflicted by her own beloved baby sister. Without speaking, Betsy stalked over and turned off the water. Then she slumped beside the faucet. She didn't face her family or her captor.

"She had it coming," she said in a small tight voice.

"Oh, Betsy!" Coe wailed. Heartbreak rang in her voice.

Jeanette shook her head. Her eyes were clouded with tears. Their predicament was bad enough. They should all be drawing together as a family, to give one another what strength and comfort they could in the face of nightmare. It was no time for them to be turning on one another like frightened rats, no matter what the misguided purity of their motives was.

"Betsy… Betsy, dear, you mustn't talk that way. You have to realize what's happening. We're all under strain, sweetheart." She almost laughed in hysteria. "We're all under strain, sweetheart," – how hopelessly inadequate those words were to describe the horror that had become their life.

Betsy shook her head convulsively. She drew her knees up in front of her tits and hugged them, pressing her pink nipples back into the snowy titflesh. "No!" she shouted. "You're being animals! You're enjoying what they're doing to us. Owwwwww!" She started to bawl.

Coe and Jack exchanged glances. When Jake had been tongue-lashing their little sister's still virgin pussy she'd sung a different tune. But it wasn't hypocrisy that angered the girl. She was confused, and her siblings knew it.

The redhead fugitive was getting nervous. "Hey, you… Blondie," he said. "Better get back over here with the others."

Betsy's shoulders shook with sobs. She made no attempt to rise.

Crack! As though from nowhere, a black snaky length of leather stretched out and stung the girl on her thigh. She jumped up with a howl, clutching at herself.

"Better do as you're told, baby," said a familiar voice, Jake stood by the corner of the house, his cock sticking out from his crotch like a flagpole. In his hand was a long black whip. He'd slipped out the back door and come, catlike, around the side of the ranch house.

Betsy rubbed the reddening spot on her thigh. Jake brought his wrist forward. The whip snaked along the pass, rustling. Its tip went between Betsy's feet. Its head reared like a cobra.

"Yiiieee!" Betsy squealed as it stung the delicate lips of her pussy.

Agony pulsed in her cuntlips. They seemed to be swelling to twice their normal size. Betsy moaned. She dropped to her knees, weak. The pain just wouldn't stop!

She pressed her hands over the blonde-bushed bulge of her pussy, clutching her injured cunt. The whip lashed out again, parallel to the ground. It whined viciously through the air to curl with deceptive gentleness around Betsy's cone-shaped tits. "AGGGHHH!" the blonde girl screeched as the braided leather tongue licked her tits.

Jake slashed Betsy across the boobs again. Her voice cracked as she screamed. The pain of the first blow across the boobs had made her nipples stand up, excitedly receptive to sensation. The sensation that flooded her tit caps was sheer torture.

Two glowing scarlet welts crossed the whiteness of Betsy's tits. The pain that throbbed in her jugs was unbearable. She tore her hands from her pussy to cross her arms over her tits. Laughing, Jake swung the whip again. It cut like a knife at her vulnerable asscheeks.

"Yahhhhhh!" Betsy fell forward on her face. She squirmed agonizedly on the grass – pussy, tits and ass alive with pain.

Jake stood above her, gloating. Turning, he surveyed the rest of her family. Coe lay huddled on her side, staring in shock and sorrow at what was happening to her sister. The fact that her sister had a few moments before been sticking a painfully-hot brass nozzle into her cunt seemed to make no difference. A little ways away, Jack and Jeanette sat side by side, stunned into silence by the suddenness and ferocity of the whipping Jake had dealt Betsy.