Whore Sister 6: Vengeance
by Resurgiam
It was idyllic.
But deep down I knew that it couldn’t last this way forever. Looming increasingly large in my thoughts were my parents, the abusive rapists who had destroyed my sister’s chance at a normal life. I knew I couldn’t let them get away with it, that I needed to take revenge. And so, as I spent hour after hour, day after day, blowing load after load into the bodies of my whore sisters, a plan slowly came together.
At the end of the three days I finally needed to go back to work. We were all disappointed, but the honeymoon was sadly over. I gave Jill a set of keys to my apartment and told her she and the girls were welcome to move in, but that they might want to wait on that. I had something else in mind.
When I showed up to my parents’ house I came late at night and unannounced. I didn’t bring my phone and didn’t take my own car, so there would be no way to prove I had even been there. My mom greeted me at the door. Surprised to see me, she nevertheless let me in happily. She had always doted on me. Now in her 50s, she took great care of herself. A trophy housewife by profession, she spent much of her time exercising, and when she greeted me she was in her gym gear. Yoga pants that showed off her still incredible ass, and a sports bra barely contained her copious tits, leaving her flat, tanned midriff totally exposed. Despite being a GMILF, one could be excused for forgetting the “G”.
It was everything I could do not to beat the shit out of her as soon as she opened the door.
My father was more than a decade older than Mom, and had let himself go slightly over the years. Still, he cut an imposing figure, even sitting in a leather chair in his study as Mom ushered me in and we started chatting. I let glasses of scotch get poured for each of us, and faked a smile as I made vacuous small talk. I was confident in my ability to carry out my plan, but getting some liquor into my parents would certainly make them more manageable.
Finally, after everyone had had three generous pours of Islay I was ready to make my move.
“So I’ve been hanging out with Jill again lately. She sends her regards.”
My father’s face immediately turned stormy. My mother snorted in derision. It was clear this was not a topic of conversation they wanted to pursue. They would like it’s elaboration even less.
I made direct eye contact with my mother as I continued. “We’ve been talking about the old days. Did you know Dad was raping her? Yeah, turns out Chloe and Eve are his inbred rape-babies.”
I could see my father stiffen out of the corner of my eye, but he made no move. A series of emotions played out across my mother’s face, finally settling on angry disgust.
“I don’t know why you would say something like that, Henry!” Mom tried to protest.
“Because I just found out and I was kind of surprised. I never knew dad was a rapist piece of shit. Did you?”
Dad leaned forward as if to get out of his chair but I held up a hand which stopped him. I think he could feel the danger in the room. Mom lacked his situational awareness.
“Oh, please! your father? A rapist? Hardly. What I do know, young man, is that your sister is such a floozy that she couldn’t keep her hands off any dick she was around, even if that dick was attached to members of her family! What kind of girl does that? Making him break his marriage vows to her own mother, absolutely shameful. This is why we warned you not to spend time with her anymore. She’s a woman of loose morals and that’s all there is to it!”
Mom crossed her arms over her chest with finality, as if she’d finally set the record straight. Dad was at the edge of his chair, every muscle tensed. I knew the conversation was over. Surging to my feet I reached into my pocket and produced a telescoping baton. I had originally intended to use it as a response to my mother, but Dad was on his feet only moments after me. Whipping around I rained blows indiscriminately on him until he finally hit the floor. Blood was oozing from his forehead.
Mom held a hand up to her mouth and screamed. Her husband had been taken out before she even realized what was going on. Turning on her I smashed the baton across her head, knocking her senseless as she spilled out of the chair onto the floor.
With both of them down I moved on to the next phase of my plan. Pulling zip-ties from my other pocket, I hauled my father back into his heavy chair and secured his wrists and ankles to the furniture. He had been beaten senseless enough that resisting was beyond him, but his groans told me he was starting to come around.
As I did that Mom was slowly pulling herself across the floor, blood streaming into her eyes, trying to crawl to the kitchen where I knew she had left her cell phone. Several sharp strikes across the back with the baton halted her progress. Dragging her by her ankles, I zip-tied her to the radiator in the corner of the room. I pulled Dad’s chair so he was facing his shuddering, crying wife, then sat back down in my own and took a slug of scotch.
“Right, so, here’s what’s going to happen.” I said calmly. My parents looked at me with fear in their eyes. “Dad, you raped the woman I love. It seems to me that turnabout is fair-play. You’re going to sit there and watch as I rape your wife. Mom, you’re going to lie there and take it. And maybe think about what a depraved whore you are to seduce your own son like that. While your husband is watching no less. Shameful.”
I stood and removed my pants. I wasn’t wearing boxers and was already fully engorged. Turns out beating my own mother into submission really got my engine running.
“Okay then, let’s get started.”
Pulling open a nearby drawer I quickly laid hands on one of Dad’s prized hunting knives. He strained against the zip ties ineffectively for a moment, but one look from me brought him to stillness. His body was all coiled tension, however. I knew that he thought he was biding his time, waiting for his moment to strike. I smiled warmly at him as I rounded on my mother.
She was shuddering in the corner where I had left her, tears streaming down her face. She had pulled her knees up under her chin and was trying to make herself look small in the way women have done since time immemorial when faced with the overwhelming strength of a man. A small squeak escaped her as I approached with the knife, then she averted her gaze as if this would mollify me.
It did not.
I grabbed her by the ankle and gave it a good yank, leaving her sprawled out on the floor. Leaning down, I ran the blade of the knife gently along her toned abdomen. Though her skin was tanned and slightly leathery, her lack of obvious stretch-marks or blemishes struck me. I could see her flesh quiver reflexively as the cold steel of the blade trailed from her navel to just below her tits. Rotating it slightly, I hooked the knife under my mother’s sports bra. Putting my other hand on her shoulder, I gave the knife a swift pull. It slashed cleanly through the stretchy, synthetic material of the garment. Mom’s tits spilled out. Large, with truly impressive areolas and nipples the size of the tip of my pinky finger, they did not bounce with the vigor of real breasts. It seems my mother had had a boob job at some point.
Mom’s weeping intensified. Dad leaned forward in his chair and snarled something. I pointed the knife directly at him which shut him up. Grabbing Mom roughly by the chin I gave her head a few good shakes. Bringing the blade of the knife up to her throat I bore into her with my gaze.
“Shut the fuck up, you tramp. I can see your nipples, so I know this is turning you on. Stop fucking crying, it’s irritating. And trust me, the more irritated I get, the worse this goes for you. Right now there’s still a chance you walk away from tonight alive.”
Mom hiccuped as she tried to get herself under control. Watching the emotions play across her face made my cock jump. The genuine, unadulterated fear in my mother’s eyes, something I’d never gotten from my sisters, was working as a potent aphrodisiac. To underscore that I was now the one in control of her body, I grabbed one of my mother’s nipples and stretched it to it’s limit. She groaned through grit teeth, but didn’t resume crying. She did rub her thighs together, I noted.
“Good.” I said, patting her cheek a few times. “Now let’s get that used-up, son-seducing pussy out so I can play with it.”
I was no longer actively holding her down, but Mom didn’t make any moves as I slid down her body to her pelvis. As I gently worked the blade of the knife past the waistband of her yoga pants, I placed my other hand between her legs and felt around for a moment. Applying pressure to her pussy made the wet-spot become visible. I laughed out loud.
“Check it out, Dad! The bitch is already wet! You must be really looking forward to this, huh slag?” With a swift motion I slashed the waistband of the pants, then continued slicing down until the legs had been severed from one another. I pushed them down leaving Mom further exposed. She was now wearing just a bright-orange thong and tattered shreds of fabric. Two quick cuts along the sides sufficed to remove the thong. I brought the crotch of the panties up to my nose with a dramatic flourish and inhaled deeply.
“Damn, Mom. I didn’t know old ladies like you could still get wet like this.” I said. Standing for a moment I took a step away from my mother over to my father. “Here, Dad, check this out.”
Shoving the ruined panties into his face, I literally rubbed his nose into what I was about to do. Dad snarled and jerked his head as if to bite me. As soon as his mouth came open I jammed the panties into it, stuffing them deep like a gag. Punching him between the eyes for good measure, I turned back to Mom.
She, it seems, had given up. While I was away she had spread her legs fully, leaving her cunt totally exposed. The lips were shaved and above it sat a well-maintained, greying bush. It showed the wear you would expect from having birthed two children, but seeped fluid invitingly. Her nipples were still hard as well. Looking at her face revealed no one was home. Her expression was totally vacant, eyes empty and devoid of life. Faced with this traumatic event Mom was dissociating. I didn’t much care.
Flexing my manhood sent a glob of precum spattering onto my mother’s tits. Her eyes widened slightly at this, but she otherwise didn’t respond. Kneeling between her legs, I took hold of her thighs. The tip of my penis was nestled between her lips. Once I was sure I was lined up with her hole, I looked up at my father. He was visibly apoplectic, but bound and gagged so he could do nothing.
“Well, time to go back where I came from.” I said to him with a wink, then forced my entire length into my mother with one stroke. She let out an ‘oomph’ and her face twisted into a grimace for a split second. But soon she had fully retreated back into herself and was just a pile of flesh lying on the floor for me to abuse.
Abuse her I did.
I pounded her savagely, tearing up her pussy like a maniac. When that failed to elicit further reaction I started escalating. I slapped her tits and yanked her nipples. Soon, her breasts were black and blue. The clenching of her pussy told me she still registered pain, which was good. I wanted this to hurt. But I also didn’t want to get predictable.
After mauling her breasts for a while, I suddenly reached out and struck her across the face. The first few blows were slaps. Once her cheeks were red and puffy I switched to a closed fist. Pummeling her with my right hand, I reached out with my left and closed it around her throat. Her lip had split open by the time she started turning blue. Her right eye was swollen shut as she turned purple, which I half regretted as suddenly I saw panic come into her left eye. Oxygen deprivation had done the trick. Mom came back to reality in a frenzied panic, hands desperately trying to undo my grip on her throat as I squeezed the consciousness from her body. I kept raping her the whole time. Much to my surprise, as Mom finally passed out, I felt a wet splash on my pelvis. Mom had a squirting orgasm as I choked her out of consciousness.
Releasing my grip on her throat I slid out of my mother with a pop. Lazily I checked if she was breathing. I didn’t care especially if she was, but the answer would change what I did next. As it happened she was still alive. Standing with a stretch I took another swig of whisky then broke a few of Dad’s fingers while I waited for Mom to suck down enough air to regain consciousness. She did so slowly, but surely. Once her breathing and audible attempts to hold back tears let me know she was awake again I stepped away from my father and smiled broadly at them.
“Well wasn’t that a fun warm-up! I’m going to go grab a few things from the workshop, I’ll give you two a chance to reflect on what you’ve done to lead you to this situation.”
It took me only a moment to gather what I wanted. When I returned to the study I found that my father had somehow tipped his chair onto the ground and scooted it to be close to my mother, who was weeping unabashedly. I let out a loud tsk to let them know I had returned. Depositing my bundle by Mom’s feet, I pulled Dad’s chair up and back to it’s original position. Silently I returned to the bundle, pulling out a hammer and several nails. I had expected Dad to do something like this. Squatting calmly in front of him, I proceeded to nail his feet to the floor. Blood flowed over the wood and even the makeshift gag could do little to contain my father’s screams. I whistled as I worked. Once he was firmly secured in place I tossed the hammer into the air, letting it rotate around once before catching it again. I then swung it with all my strength directly into my father’s head. There was a loud crack as he began bleeding from the forehead, but his skull seemed intact even if he was noticeably concussed. Still, his feet remained firmly nailed to the ground. I nodded in satisfaction at my work.
Returning the hammer to the bundle I then produced the tool I had brought for my mother. Turning to her I held the pliers aloft so she could see them.
“Now Mom, I’d really like to see how you are at giving head. But I don’t have a ton of confidence you won’t try to bite my dick off if I stick it in as-is, so we’re going to give you a little dental work and then see if your throat takes a pounding as well as your pussy. Open wide!”
Mom did not cooperate, but in the end that didn’t stop me. Grabbing her cheeks I was able to squish her mouth open enough to grab her front teeth with the pliers. They came out surprising easily. One by one I ripped out each of my mother’s teeth and tossed them to the ground. Periodically the pain would grow so intense that she passed out. I dutifully paused each time this happened, waiting for her to regain consciousness before continuing. Usually I’d take the opportunity to tilt her head to the side so the blood could flow out of her mouth. She was at real risk of drowning in it.
Finally, once the bitch was properly de-fanged, I propped her up against the wall. Her battered face was caked with blood and turning an alarming color from all the bruising. Even with the wall supporting her she was at risk of simply slumping over. That risk evaporated once I forced my cock past her lips and into the back of her throat. My initial penetration slammed the back of her head against the wall with a crack. I could feel her gumming my dick ineffectively as her tongue flopped around in the confines of her mouth. Her uvula was pressed against the top of my cock and I enjoyed the sensation on my tip as she tried to swallow. Soon the swallowing was replaced by retching, providing exciting new stimulation to my penis. Her face was buried in my pelvis and I could feel her nose digging into me as she tried to shake her head, shake her son’s cock loose from the depths of her throat where it was blocking her airways. Her bound hands twisted against their restraints, and her legs jerked and flailed as her need to breath became increasingly desperate.
Finally, as her movements started to slow and I could feel her beginning to give up I withdrew myself so my manhood was out of her throat and merely resting in her toothless mouth. She leaned forward slightly as my hips were no longer forcing her head against the wall. A sudden jagged inhale filled her lungs as she pulled in as much oxygen as she could through her nose. Her attempts to gulp down breaths past my meat were futile; I filled her mouth entirely.
I gave her one last opportunity to collect herself. I could see desperation in the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Even in this reprieve she knew tonight would get worse for her. Still, once she had regained some of her wits she began proactively sucking my cock. The dumb bitch must have thought this was her best chance to survive the ordeal.
I took that as my cue to start raping her face in earnest.
Thrusting my hips, I bashed her head into the wall as I forced myself into her throat. My strokes were fast and hard. No longer aiming for maximum penetration, I instead opted for as rapid a pace as I could manage. Mom’s head lolled as I slammed into her, feeling the wetness of her mouth and grasping of her throat as I turned her face into my personal onahole. Pleasure coursed through my cock down into my roiling balls as my mother started making a guttural gargling sound. It send vibrations through my penis that felt incredible. With each slap of my nuts against her chin I felt myself getting closer and closer to climax.
Suddenly, Mom’s entire body started jerking. Grabbing her head once more I slammed her against the wall and rode out the irregular spasmodic grasping her throat was now providing. Forcing my cock down my mother’s esophagus as I pinned her against the wall once more, the rush of pure power as I held her in place even as her body did it’s best to reject my dick, it was everything I could have wanted. I felt my ejaculation surge up from my testicles and travel the length of my manhood as I roared out in pure pleasure. Mom stopped twitching as my hips shot into action on their own. My strokes became vicious. I forced my cock past her epiglottis with every spurt of cum, savagely bashing her against the wall as I did so. In a few short moments I was spent. Holding Mom’s head in place for another second I drew several deep breaths to regain my equilibrium, letting the last of my spend leak out. Flaccid, I slipped from her mouth and took a step back.
Mom’s body was totally slack. A glob of semen fell from her lips, landing on her tits, which I noted were no longer heaving as they had been throughout the assault. As she slumped listlessly to the side I could see a large bloodstain on the wall where I had been beating her head against it. Reaching out to take my mother’s pulse, I confirmed what I already suspected.
Mom was dead.
I didn’t know whether she died from asphyxiation or blunt-force trauma, and honestly I didn’t care. She had died in agony. That’s what mattered to me. I pulled on my pants and turned to my father. His face was bright red and I could see tears streaming down his face. The lopsided grin I shot him told him everything. He hung his head and his body began shuddering in a combination of sobs and dry heaves. For him, things were about to get so much worse.
I spent the rest of the night torturing him. The old man had a surprising amount of spirit left in him, but in the end he died the ruined shell of what had once been a human being. I broke his body beyond all recognition. He finally passed away a little before dawn. Vengeance for what he had done to my sister was finally achieved.
In many stories, this would be the part where I reveal how empty it all left me feeling and how futile revenge is. Fuck that. My revenge was just as sweet as I had dreamed of, and I left the house feeling like a million bucks. It was like a weight had been lifted, a wrong set right. To this day any time I think about it I break out into a big dumb smile. Walking out into the morning sun I felt like a new man.
***
I suppose I could go on at length about the elaborate measures I took to avoid getting caught for what I had done. Body disposal, cleaning the crime scene, the alibis I set up and testimony I gave the cops. But that doesn’t really matter. Suffice it to say, this was a premeditated act and I had also premeditated how I’d get away with it. The bodies were never found and no substantial evidence was gained from the repeated searches of my parents’ house. I know I was considered a suspect for a while, but in the end nobody was ever charged.
After our parents were declared legally dead, Jill and I moved back into the house. Chloe and Eve came with us, of course. We all moved into the master bedroom and started building a life together. I inherited Dad’s entire portfolio of investments and real estate. The girls went back to school to work on their degrees. Jill thought about getting a job doing clerical work for one of my golf-buddies, but when both twins fell pregnant in quick succession she decided to stay at home and take care of the babies instead. Impregnating Jill took a little longer, but I went at the task with gusto. Together our unconventional family achieved the domestic bliss of suburban living.
But even with their circumstances drastically altered, Jill, Eve, and Chloe remained who they’d always been. And so we filled every night with passionate, violent, exquisite, depraved lovemaking. Because no matter the veneer of respectability they assumed, nothing could change what these women were deep down inside: whores. My whores.
My whore sisters.
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