Mark Carver - Daughter turn on

"Your mother?" Phil whispered, his prick sagging like limp spaghetti. Sally had told him her mother never came home once she left the house in the afternoon, not until she was staggering drunk early the next morning.

Never was the most treacherous word in the English language.

"Yeah, my mother," Sally sighed, standing up. "Just let me handle this," she mouthed to Phil. "And don't say a word."

With amazing composure, Sally walked directly up to her mother, her tawny tits heaving with a blend of sex-excitement and sheer icy nerve.

"You'd better have a seat, you old bitch," Sally told her in a vicious voice. "Because what I've got to say to you is going to knock you on your ass anyway…"

Two weeks later on a sunny morning, the Jenkins family sat down to breakfast. Sally's ripe lips smiled cheerfully as she stared at her new mother and father, now legally her foster parents.

And there was more than just a hint of lewd pleasure in the smile.

Last night she'd slept with Marie and her son, Don, while Cindy slept with her father.

The night before Sally had slept with Cindy and Phil. And the night before that with Don and Cindy. The family group didn't operate on a schedule, leaving their nocturnal activities up to last-minute whims and desires, but all of them managed to get around in a game of musical beds.

As Phil stared at the young addition to his family, he couldn't suppress a look of sheer admiration. Sally had guts, brains, fantastic sex appeal and, if she were a boy instead of a girl, he'd have said she had more balls than anyone he knew.

Her mother had shown up that afternoon, as things turned out, to pack her bags and leave town with her newest boyfriend, who was leaving for San Francisco. But she didn't admit that until Sally outrageously threatened to call the cops herself! And she would tell them the following story:

Sally's mother had lecherously urged her to go out and have sex with anyone and everyone who was willing, male or female, when Sally was only thirteen years of age. Since then Sally would claim she was repeatedly raped by her mother's drunken boyfriends, by her mother herself, and encouraged to commit every depraved act imaginable.

Sally would further tell the cops that her mother was trying to drag her to San Francisco to pervert her even more, possibly to turn her into a prostitute so she could support her mother's and her boyfriend's wild binges.

Now, Sally had told her mother in a deadly voice, in view of the fact that her mother had been arrested in town a number of times for drunk and disorderly conduct while Sally was an innocent young girl, who were the cops going to believe? And who could the cops bust in such a case?

For that matter, Sally added in an ominous tone, not only would she and Cindy and Phil deny having sex, they could confirm Sally's story, saying she'd come to them for protection.

Sputtering with rage, her mother knew Sally had her by the short curly hairs. As it turned out, she was going to desert Sally anyway, so after signing some papers Phil's lawyer had hastily drawn up, in return for the sum of five hundred dollars from Phil, he was now legally Sally's guardian.

And at five hundred dollars, the girl was one hell of a bargain, the whole family agreed.

Sally still worked at the theater – she didn't steal, since she was part of the family now – and a new fierce ambition had arisen in her young blood. After watching movies night after night, Sally now wanted to go to Hollywood and be a movie star. Not just yet, of course, not until she graduated from high school, but in the meantime Phil was seeing that she got drama lessons.

The family was quite proud of her and didn't think her ambition was childish or ridiculous. Once you got to know Sally, you got the feeling that tawny blonde could do anything she made up her mind to do.

And if Sally couldn't do it on talent alone, she'd use her hot lips and mad little cunt like weapons in an arsenal.

But one way or another she'd make it. They all knew it, just as surely as Sally had the sweetest, hottest mouth and wildest pussy in town…

At the same time the Jenkins family was sitting down to breakfast, Vivian Whitaker was slowly-and painfully-waking up.

She was chained to her own bed, on her back. "Jim!" she called out. "Jim, you bastard! You unchain me now, dammit! Pleeease! Please?"

Her demanding cries turned abruptly to whimpers, then to pathetic moans. In the next bedroom, the nurse heard voices, then a girl's loud laughter.

A minute later her naked brother appeared in the doorway with his new girlfriend, a ravishing redheaded swinger who'd moved in three days ago. Since then, the tables had turned sharply.

It was Vivian who got chained down and whipped and teased and raped, forced to submit to both Jim and his sexy girlfriend every night. Last night, they'd just left her here like this, helplessly bound, so frustrated she thought she'd lose her mind!

Jim stared down at her mockingly. Vivian's eyes burned on his new girl, a creamy, stunningly ripe switch-hitter who could tease so cruelly Vivian would need a straitjacket soon if she kept it up.

The nurse's lips began to tingle and her pussy started throbbing with intense heat. They hadn't even let her get her rocks off last night!

"Please?" Vivian whispered. "I'll go down on you, both of you! Give you a job you won't forget! Just eat me, rape me, whip me, but Christ, let me come!"

Jim grinned. "How does it feel to be on the receiving end for a while, Sis?" He turned to the redhead. "What do you say, honey? Should we let the animal loose for a while?"

The redhead's eyes gleamed in a way that made Vivian's flesh shiver.

"Let her lie there for a while and stew in her own juices, Jimmy. I know the type. All hard bitch on the outside and nothing but a soggy marshmallow on the inside. Pure mushy cunt," she added contemptuously, turning her back to reveal a gorgeously curved ass. "She's nothing but a slave," the redhead laughed. "A freaked-out sex-slave."

They went into the kitchen to eat breakfast, and tears came to Vivian's eyes, hot tears of self-pity. Her brother no longer needed her to get aroused or to come. He and the redhead had dominated her completely for a week now, and it was Vivian who needed them to have an orgasm now…

"Nothing but a sex-slave," Vivian whispered, her face flushing with eerie excitement. "I don't mind," she smiled, her eyes burning with a strange new light. "I don't mind at all. I love kissing your asses! I love being your sex-slave! Just fuck me, fuck meeee!"

Her voice rose to a high, keening scream which echoed throughout the apartment.

Any day now they'd be coming for Vivian, to put her away for a while, for a long, desperately needed rest. But Vivian didn't mind, not at all.

Too much violence and sex and cruelty had finally begun to unhinge her precariously tuned mind. The sad truth of the matter was, she could dish it out but she couldn't take it. After all, someone had once told her that what goes around comes around, and it came all the way around to Vivian.

Around the bend, that is.

Leaving her sanity back there somewhere, dancing lewdly in the moonlight of obscene love…