Vicky Samuels
“What is going on? I’m on a break?” I texted to my sister as I hurried to the upstairs girls’ restroom. I had thirty minutes to satiate my hot pussy. Everyone participating in the debate match today–I coached my college’s team in addition to teaching history–would use the nearer ones. And I needed privacy.
My pussy was on fire. Everything was happening at the houses today.
My sister and I were far closer than sisters ever should be. For twenty years, we had shared the same man, Cheryl’s husband Clinton. He was our Master. He dominated us, punished us, gave us just what we craved. We made love for his amusement, committing incest to please him. The six months since his death had hit us both hard.. Particularly my older sister, who loved her husband just a bit more than I did.
And now my nineteen-year-old nephew Clint was stepping up as man of the house, dominating not only my daughter, Melody–who had a huge crush on him–but my sister and my innocent, eighteen-year-old niece, Alicia. It shocked me. Not Melody, I had been waiting for the pair to get passed the kissing cousin stage, but the rest of it. My sister fucking her son, submitting to her son, quiet Alicia losing her cherry to Clint.
It made me so wet. I wanted to join in the fun, but I was stuck at school on this dumb debate tournament. Why did I ever agree to coach it? It didn’t net me an extra paycheck but cost me plenty of my personal time.
I was on the second floor hallway, moving from the auditorium, alone, my feet echoing, when my phone made the melodic beeps of an incoming Skype call from my sister. I accepted it, and almost dropped my phone at the sight of the video she streamed me.
My other daughter, Lee, was bent over Clint’s lap. Melody was beside him, Lee’s legs draped over my eldest daughter. Lee was eighteen and a brat, often acting like a girl half her age. She had only gotten worse since Clinton, her true father, had died. She was bare bottom, jogging shorts and panties around her ankles while Melody’s hand cracked down hard on her rear.
“Five, thank you, Melody,” Lee said, her face crimson, her short, black hair half-covering her cheeks. She always kept it in a pixyish bob which only enhanced her bratty appearance. Her asscheeks were as red as her face.
Melody, nineteen and blonde, had a huge grin on her face, a mix of triumph and glee at spanking her younger sister. Her hand stroked Lee’s ass. “You’re welcome, Lee. Now what do you say?”
“That’s right,” my sister whispered into her phone as she filmed. “Lee is joining the fun. She’s totally getting off on being spanked and humiliated like we always thought she did when Clinton disciplined her.”
“Shit,” I hissed, diving into the ladies restroom. My thirty-eight-year-old pussy was on fire. My eldest daughter stroked my youngest daughter’s ass. It was so sensual. Lee moaned out her confusion while Clint, looking so strong and handsome, had a glint in his eye. The same glint his father would have when he dominated Cheryl and me.
Damn, he looked like his father did the first time I entered his bed at eighteen, trembling and virginal, Cheryl at my side. They were both nineteen. I was a gift from Cheryl to her boyfriend, her bustier body pressed against me, her hands spreading my thighs.
She’s a virgin, Clinton, my sister had moaned. Just for you.
I burst into the last stall, the door swinging shut. I yanked up my skirt and pulled down my panties. My legs spread wide and my right hand plunged between my thighs. I rubbed at the hot flesh of my pussy, fingers sliding over and over my wet labia. My left hand gripped my phone so tight the plastic case creaked.
“Mmm, that’s right,” my sister purred. “Lee is going to be a wild addition to Clint’s harem.”
Clint’s first spanking fell hard on my daughter’s ass. I could hear the stinging reverberation, my ass aching in sympathy. He didn’t hold back. He was spanking her hard, intent on inflicting pain. And my daughter bucked. She cried, tears falling down her face.
But I knew those moans. She was a masochist. She craved the pain, the humiliation, the shame. It all made her wet and excited. Clint was giving her just what she needed. I wonder if Lee even realized why she acted like a brat, if she understood what she craved.
She was about to.
My fingers plunged into my sopping pussy. My hot flesh clenched on my digits as they reamed in and out. My toes curled in my shoes as I watched the second spanking fall, loving the sound of Lee thanking him. Where had he learned that form of discipline?
“He’s just like his father,” I moaned as the third spanking fell. My fingers plunged faster, pleasure racing through my body. I so wish I was there.
“I know,” Cheryl sighed. “And he loves Melody like he loved us. Maybe Alicia, too. I think he’s realizing just how precious she is.”
“Damn,” I panted.
“He even has a thing for Asian girls.” The phone shook, and I heard my sister let out a wanton moan.
“Really?” I groaned.
Pam Hiragawa dancing through my thoughts. She was nineteen and on my debate team. If Clinton were alive, I would have been grooming the girl to be ready to join us in bed, a gift to him. Cheryl and I always tried to find new Asian girls for Clinton to enjoy. It was a game we played.
My pussy clenched so hard as my daughter gasped and moaned, tears pouring down her face. Her short, black hair tossed about her as she writhed. I heard Alicia groan nearby, watching with her mother.
And Melody. My wicked eldest daughter had her hand sliding up Lee’s thighs, moving towards her pussy as Clint reddened her ass. She bucked and gasped, hardly noticing when Melody reached her goal. One daughter touched the other daughter’s cunt while their half-brother’s hand cracked down again.
“Oh, my god,” I panted, my clit throbbing beneath my grinding heel of my hand. I bucked and shuddered. “Lee’s going to cum.”
“Uh-huh,” Cheryl groaned.
The tenth spanking fell. My daughter Lee thrashed. Her body bucked as she screamed out wordless pleasure. I knew the signs. She had exploded into subspace, drifting on the euphoria brought about by being dominated, the mix of pain and pleasure. Her small body quavered and danced. My pussy clenched on my fingers.
And Clint was moving, Melody helping him, a huge grin on her lips. “Fuck my bratty sister, Clint,” she hissed as they rolled the thrashing Lee onto the couch. She half sat, leaning back, her head tossing, still cumming. “Fuck the little slut. Pop her cherry.”
Melody grabbed his hand. My daughter and Clint stared into each other’s eyes, kissing hard as she brought his dick to her sister’s pussy. Lee thrashed and moaned out her delight. She wanted Clint to fuck her.
And he did.
“Oh, god,” I moaned, my pussy juices dripping out my snatch as I watched Clint’s firm ass flex as he drove into my daughter’s cunt. One hand shoved into Melody’s jeans, frigging her pussy as he pounded Lee. “He’s fucking her. He popped her cherry. My little girl’s a woman.”
“Yes,” Cheryl moaned, the camera trembling. “My son is such a stud.”