“What now?” Janice asked, her voice a thread of sound in the heavy silence.
“Now,” Ivy said, her voice a low, determined growl, “we survive. And when we get out of this, we make them pay.”
The invaders laughed, a sound like the crackling of a fire that had consumed their humanity. But as they turned to face the nightmare, the family knew that they would not go quietly into the night. They would fight, they would resist, and they would live to tell the tale of this harrowing evening.
“Take your sister,” Grant sneered at Rob, his gun still pointing at Ivy’s head. “You’re going to make her a woman.”
Rob’s eyes widened with a mix of fear and disbelief. He had never been with a woman, let alone his sister. The thought of fucking his little sister under these circumstances was a burden too heavy to bear. Yet, as he looked into her terrified eyes, he knew he had to be strong for her. With a deep, trembling breath, he stepped closer, his heart racing like a caged animal’s.
Ivy watched with a mix of horror and determination. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way out of this nightmare. But in that moment, she knew she had to protect her children, even if it meant sacrificing herself. She stepped in front of Janice, placing a gentle hand on Rob’s arm.
“Let me help you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll show you what to do.”
Ivy stepped closer, her eyes never leaving her son’s as she whispered, “Take your time, Robert. Make it as painless as possible for her.”
He nodded, his throat constricting with emotion. Janice watched him with a mix of fear and something else—desire?
His sister was in a simple plain nylon slip. He reached out and as Janice lifted her arms, he lifted her slip up and off her, revealing her in simple pale blue panties.
His sister gently eased them down her thighs, in a movement that suggested resignation of what was to come.
He reached out to cup her naked buttocks, feeling the smoothness of her skin.
Her panties she had worn, now lying discarded on the floor, had been the object of his secret fascination for so long—the scent, the feel, the very idea of them—now, the reality was more overwhelming than any fantasy.
Janice’s breath caught as she felt his manhood, hot and rigid, pressing against her thigh. It was a feeling so alien yet oddly familiar as if some ancient hidden memory had come back.
Despite the horror of the situation, Janice’s body responded, a traitorous heat blooming between her legs. She felt her knees wobble, but her mother’s firm hand on her shoulder provided a much-needed anchor.
Ivy stepped back, allowing the siblings the illusion of privacy, her own eyes misting with a mix of pain and resolve. She had to be strong for them, to guide them through this unthinkable act.
Robert’s penis twitched, eager and demanding. He had dreamt of this possible moment for years, but never had he imagined it would come under such circumstances. He leaned in, his breath warm against Janice’s ear as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes searched his, and she saw the sincerity in his gaze. She nodded, understanding that this was a shared burden, a fate thrust upon them by the cruel hands of fate.
The two intruders, their faces now illuminated by the flickering candles they had lit to enhance the ambience of the room, watched with greedy eyes. Gary, spoke in a gruff voice, “Do it, boy. Show us what you’ve got.”
Robert ignored the taunt, focusing solely on Janice. He knew he had to be gentle, to ease her into this violation of her body and soul.
His hands slid up her back, feeling the gooseflesh that had erupted in response to his touch. He leaned down and kissed her, tentatively at first, then with a hunger that surprised them both.
Janice’s mouth opened under his, and she kissed him back, her hands reaching up to clutch at his shoulders. The kiss grew more urgent, a silent declaration of their bond, a desperate attempt to find solace in the storm of depravity that surrounded them.
Their kiss grew more fervent, and Robert’s hand slid between Janice’s thighs, his fingers parting her folds. He felt her wetness, a warm embrace that made his cock throb with need. He stroked her gently, feeling her body tense, then relax under his ministrations.
One of the men, Robert no longer knew or cared said, “Enough of that. Get to the fucking.”
Robert broke the kiss, his chest heaving. He positioned himself at the entrance of Janice’s sex, feeling her tense as the tip of his penis made contact with her slick opening. He paused, looking into her eyes, silently asking for her permission to continue.
She nodded, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears.
With one slow, agonising push, Robert entered his sister, feeling the tightness of her pussy give way to his engorged cock.
Janice gasped, her nails digging into his skin as she felt the pain of her pussy being breached for only the second time. The sound seemed to echo through the room, a testament to the purity lost in this twisted act.
Her mother winced but remained silent, her eyes never leaving her daughter’s face. She had made her peace with this fate, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch.
Robert’s penis sank deeper into Janice, stretching her, filling her completely.
The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt—a mix of pleasure and pain that made him feel alive and utterly lost at the same time. He began to move, his hips rocking in a slow, rhythmic motion that grew faster and more urgent with each passing second.
Janice’s cries grew louder, a symphony of pain and pleasure that seemed to resonate in the very walls of the room. Her body moved with his, a dance of submission and dominance that was as natural as it was wrong.
The second intruder, the lean man with a sneer that never left his lips, stepped closer, his eyes glued to the intimate scene playing out before him.
He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a pair of Janice’s previously discarded panties. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of her arousal.
The act sent a shiver down Robert’s spine, a stark reminder of their perverse audience.
As Robert’s thrusts grew more urgent, Janice’s body began to respond in ways she never knew possible. The initial pain had subsided, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure that seemed to coil around her like a serpent, tightening with each of Robert’s movements.
Her cries had become a mix of anguish and ecstasy, the two emotions indistinguishable from one another.
Ivy watched, her own arousal a confusing betrayal of the horror she felt. She wondered what her son was thinking as the intruder sat inhaling her daughters panty smell.
She had always known of Robert’s panty fetish, had found his stash of Janice’s underwear hidden in his room on more than one occasion. Now, she understood the depth of his obsession, the power that the scent of his sister’s sex held over him, and others.
Gary reached out, his calloused hand grabbing Janice’s chin, forcing her to look at him. “You like that, don’t you, little slut?”
The words cut through the fog of pleasure, and Janice’s eyes flashed with anger. She spat in his face, the saliva a declaration of her defiance. He wiped it away with a chuckle, his grip on her tightening.
Robert’s eyes narrowed, his strokes growing more powerful in response to the insult. He felt Janice’s body tense around him, her muscles clenching as she neared her climax. T
he room was alive with the sounds of their bodies slapping together, their ragged breaths, and the occasional taunt from the intruders.
Gary stepped closer, his eyes feasting on the sight of Janice’s breasts bouncing with each thrust. He reached out, pinching a nipple through her shirt, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Janice gasped, arching her back, her eyes squeezed shut.
The scar-faced intruder leaned in, whispering into Robert’s ear, “Make her scream for you, boy.”
Robert’s jaw clenched, and he increased his pace, driving deeper into Janice with each stroke.
Her nails dug into his back, her legs trembling as she approached the precipice of pleasure. Ivy stepped forward, her own hand reaching out to caress Janice’s cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.
“Let go,” Ivy murmured. “Let it happen.”
Janice’s eyes snapped open, her gaze locking with her mother’s. The understanding passed between them, and she did as she was told, giving in to the sensations that flooded her body.
Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around Robert’s cock.
The lean man’s hand slipped from her nipple to her clit, rubbing it with a fervour that sent her over the edge. She screamed, the sound echoing through the room, a cry of release and agony that seemed to shake the very foundations of their reality.
Gary grinned, his eyes alight with triumph. “That’s it,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Now, let’s see you come for us boy.”
Robert felt the pressure building in his loins, the need to release almost unbearable. Janice’s pussy was tight around him, her walls pulsing with the aftershocks of her climax. He leaned down, his breath hot against her neck as he whispered, “I’m going to come inside you.”
Her eyes widened, the reality of his words hitting her like a sledgehammer.
But there was something in the way he said it—a possessiveness, a claiming of her body—that sent a fresh wave of desire through her. She nodded, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
With a final, powerful thrust, Robert reached his peak, filling Janice with his seed. The act was as natural and primal as any act of love, yet it was tainted by the darkness that surrounded them.
His sister felt the warmth of his release inside her, a strange mix of repulsion and satisfaction. The intruder’s hand on her clit was the last straw, pushing her over the edge into a second orgasm, this one fuelled by the perverse thrill of their forced intimacy.
The two siblings remained connected, their bodies trembling, their hearts racing. Gary withdrew his hand from Janice’s sensitive flesh, licking his fingers with a sneer. “Delicious,” he murmured.
Ivy stepped forward, her expression a mask of sorrow and determination. “Take these,” she said, handing Robert her own panties that had been discarded on the floor. “You should have all our panties.”
Robert took them, the fabric still warm from his mother’s body, and held them to his face, inhaling deeply.
The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, and he felt a strange comfort in the possession of this forbidden token. He knew that the act was wrong, but the power of his fetish was stronger than any sense of morality.
The intruders watched with twisted smiles, the sight of the brother and sister’s intimate moment a twisted victory for them. The scar-faced man spoke, his voice a coarse whisper, “You’re a natural, boy. Who knew you had it in you?”
Robert’s eyes snapped up, anger burning in their depths. “Don’t talk about her like that,” he spat.
Grant chuckled, his eyes never leaving Janice’s naked form. “Oh, we’re just getting started.
The room was a cauldron of emotions—fear, anger, and despair simmering together in a toxic stew. Janice looked at her mother with a mix of gratitude and horror. But she knew that in this twisted game, this was the only way to maintain some semblance of control.
On the other side of the room, Carlene was on her knees. Grant had now forced her father’s cock in her mouth.
To the feminist Carlene, the taste was bitter, the act a violation that seemed to echo through every cell of her being. Yet she knew she had to endure, had to find a way to survive this horror.
Her eyes never left Janice’s, the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills. The pain in Janice’s eyes was a mirror of her own, a reflection of the soul-crushing reality they were forced to endure.
Gary had forced her father’s hands to tighten in her hair, forcing her closer, she knew that she had to find a way to break free.
Three powerful thrusts and she felt her fathers cum gush into her mouth.
Choking she fell back.
Her father was distressed. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry”, he cried,
“Like fuck dad, you enjoyed that, I could tell”, his daughter cried.
The air had grown thick with the sound of their forced unions, the sickening moans and grunts of the invaders a backdrop to their silent screams.
As the tension grew, Ivy could feel herself unravelling, the threads of her sanity fraying like a worn-out rope.
With a feral growl, she turned to face her husband. “Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice a whip crack. “Fuck me now, this has gone past anything normal and I want to be fucked!”
“Not yet lady”, both men cried. “We have other things to come”.
Brian’s eyes widened, the horror of what was happening too much to process. Yet, as he looked into her eyes, he saw the wildfire of determination, the burning need to reclaim some semblance of control in this hellish ordeal.
So, with a heavy heart, he complied, hoping against hope that this would somehow save their children.
The invaders watched with gleeful eyes, their own hands moving in a frenzied dance as they masturbated, the sight of the family’s degradation too much for them to resist. The air grew thick with the scent of their arousal, a noxious perfume that mingled with the smell of fear and despair.
As the moments stretched into an eternity, the family’s eyes remained locked, their hearts beating in a macabre rhythm. The only sounds in the room were the wet slap of flesh against flesh and the choked sobs of the women.
Finally, unable to contain themselves any longer, the invaders reached their climax, their semen spurting across the room like a perverse celebration of their power. The warm droplets landed on Ivy’s face and chest, a final act of humiliation that seemed to snap something inside her.
The room was a blur as she stood up, her eyes alight with a fury that could have set the world ablaze. “You won’t break us,” she spat, her voice a snarl. “You may have taken our bodies, but you’ll never have our spirits.”
The invaders laughed, the sound echoing through the room like a chorus from hell.
“Yer you butch bitch, let’s see if you are so bossy when your brother fucks you.”
Carlene had always been in control. Not exactly a lesbian, her contact with men was minimal, mainly because she demanded control. Men didn’t like that, but that was her core being.
Now Carlene’s eyes were wide with fear, her body trembling uncontrollably as she felt the weight of her experience in such a situation.
The reality of it was a noose around her neck, tightening with every second that ticked by.
“Mom,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What do I do?”
Ivy’s gaze was a mix of anger and despair, but she knew she had to be the rock in this storm. “Look at me, Carlene,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. “Look at me and let’s get through this together.”
With trembling hands, she guided her son. His beautiful boy-child penis was firm and sticking out like a rigid piston waiting for work.
She set a slow pace with her hands around his face. Forcing her son to use gentle strokes that would ease Carlene’s pain. For Ivy, each push by her son into her older daughter had to be seen as a silent promise of love and protection.
It must be a declaration of war against the monsters that had invaded their lives. Her son and daughter’s eyes never left hers, and in that moment, she knew that she was not alone.
Then, Carlene felt her gag reflex kick in as she was forced to take her brother’s cock into her throat.
The taste was still vile, a betrayal of everything she had ever known about love and family. Yet she knew that if she threw up, if she resisted, it would only bring more pain. So she swallowed her pride and her fear, focusing on the beat of her heart, the only constant in this ever-changing nightmare.
Brad’s eyes were glazed with lust as he watched his wife guide their son into his daughter’s mouth.
His mind a tumult of conflicting emotions. The love he felt for his daughters warred with the disgust of what he was being forced to do, the pain of his own violation a constant, gnawing presence.
The air grew thick with the sound of their forced intimacy, the invaders’ dirty words a symphony of depravity that filled every corner of the room. The tension was palpable, a living entity that seemed to pulse with each beat of their hearts.
Ivy’s mind was a maelstrom of thoughts, her sanity fraying like a rope under the weight of the unthinkable. “Do it,” she hissed at her husband, her voice a serrated blade. “Fuck them while they watch.”
Brian’s eyes searched hers, a silent plea for understanding. He knew that she was breaking, that the horror of the situation was too much.
But as he looked into the depths of her soul, he saw the flame of rebellion that had not been extinguished. And so, with a heavy heart, he did as she asked, hoping that by playing along, they could find some semblance of control in this chaos.
The invaders’ eyes were glued to the scene before them, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. “Oh, yes,” Grant groaned, his hand moving in time with the rhythm of the family’s forced passion. “Show us how it’s done.”
The room was a whirlwind of depravity, a dance of fear and anger that had no end in sight. And as the two men watched the family’s most intimate moments being used against them, they could not help but feel a twisted sense of triumph.
Yet, amidst the horror, there was a spark of hope. The love between them had not been destroyed, it had merely been twisted into a weapon of survival. And as they moved together in a macabre dance of domination and submission, the family knew that they would not let this break them.