The Best Erotic Stories.

Hostile Takeover
Ch. V: Retaliation
by Whispersecret

Copyright 2000 by the author. All rights reserved.

Rockwell had developed a raging headache. After leaving Fiona at the table, he stalked around the mansion in a foul mood because he didn’t want to leave her at all. He wanted to be with her so much that it terrified him. He was not a one-woman man. He never let his desires get the better of him. Instead, he harnessed his desires and controlled them. The command he had over himself was a large part of why he was as successful as he was, and he’d be damned if some nineteen-year-old girl with great tits was going to make him lose his head.

He stopped at Sheridan’s room to check on things. Whitcomb was outside as expected.

"What’s he doing?" Rockwell asked.

"He’s been quiet. I think he’s sleeping," Whitcomb replied. "Not surprising, considering." The giant guard sneered in disgust.

"Considering what?" Rockwell decided to find some kind of pain reliever. Fiona’s bathroom had to have some; he remembered a medicine cabinet there. Frowning, he rubbed the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve the pain throbbing in his temples.

"Considering he spent the night jerking his meat while listening to you and his daughter."

"WHAT?" Rockwell jerked his head up.

"Yeah. The bastard must’ve cum three times, and I had to listen—"

Rockwell didn’t wait to hear the rest of Whitcomb’s complaint; he pushed the guard out of the way, threw open the door, and stormed into Sheridan’s room. Frank Sheridan was on the bed wearing only a shirt. He had his hand on his erect penis and was slowly stroking it, but he bolted upright when Rockwell burst in.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" Rockwell demanded.

Sheridan sat up and hastily shoved something behind him, his face rapidly turning red. "Get out of here, Rockwell!"

"You sick bastard. What the fuck are you doing?" Rockwell strode over to Sheridan and grabbed him by the shirt, clenching his hand into a fist, not sure whether to smash it into his face or his gut.

"Nothing!" Sheridan protested. But the flaming red stain on his cheeks betrayed him.

Rockwell jerked the man off the bed and shoved him hard to the floor, then pushed the bedclothes around looking for whatever it was that Sheridan had tried to hide.

Sheridan quickly scrambled to his feet. "I said get out of here!" His voice was whiny and panicked.

Rockwell turned to glare at him, his face mottled with rage. "Stay back or I’ll pound the shit out of you."

A corner of something black peeked out from under the pillow. Rockwell grabbed it. A micro-cassette recorder. He cast a swift, sharp glance at Sheridan and then pushed the play button.

Fiona’s pleading voice came out of the tiny machine. "…your hot cock in my pussy, Rockwell! I need it. Please, please…"

When he looked at Sheridan, he was cowering against the wall. "I-I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t d-do!" he stammered in his own defense.

"You sick son of a bitch!" Rockwell raged. "You taped me and your daughter so you could fucking jerk off?" He hurled the tape recorder against the wall, where it hit a hanging tapestry and fell to the floor.

Rockwell pulled back his fist and slammed it into Sheridan’s paunch. The man doubled over with a grunt of pain, but Rockwell didn’t stop. He followed with a savage uppercut to the chin, pulverized Frank’s nose with a direct hit to the face, and then hauled back to hit Sheridan again.

"Sir!" It was Whitcomb. He had a grip on Rockwell’s wrist, staying his punch.

Rockwell blinked. His knuckles throbbed.

Sheridan made a pathetic picture. Wearing only his shirt, he slumped on the floor, bleeding from his nose and lower lip. He was moaning piteously.

Rockwell shook his head at Whitcomb, who stepped back.

"You disgust me, Frank," Rockwell spat. "I should have known you were a bastard when you tried to jack up the price because of her virginity."

Frank moaned.

"I made you listen so you would suffer, you incestuous piece of shit." Rockwell ran his hand through his hair, and winced when the movement hurt his injured knuckles.

"I am no angel, Frank, but you might just be the most perverted asshole I’ve ever met. You listened to me fuck your daughter and you liked it. You liked it so much that you jerked off to it. Your own daughter! That’s sick, Frank, really sick."

Frank covered his face with his arms and moaned some more.

"And then you taped it so you could jack off to it over and over and over. Your own daughter, Frank. Christ! Want to know what I think? I think that if I let you, you would have fucked her yourself, wouldn’t you, Frank? You would have stuck your dick inside your own daughter and loved every minute!"

Rockwell kicked Sheridan viciously, and the man cowered, curling his body into a ball.

"What I can’t believe is that a deviant mother-fucker like you, raised that beautiful girl. How the hell did she turn out to be such a treasure with you as her father? Huh? Answer me that." Rockwell looked at Frank with utter contempt. "Fiona doesn’t deserve a fuck-up like you for a father, Frank. Her mother must have been a hell of a woman, because Fiona’s a good girl, despite the defective genes she inherited from you."

Rockwell picked up the recorder and popped the tape out as he gave orders to Whitcomb. "He stays here. If he tries to escape, shoot him." Rockwell put the tape in his pocket.

Whitcomb nodded. "Yes, sir. With pleasure, sir."

Rockwell knelt and pushed his face up to Sheridan’s. In a low, menacing voice he said, "Don’t think he won’t do it, Frank. I have more money than God. I could throw your headless body on the steps of the precinct and get away with it scot free." Rockwell gave him one last withering glare. "Funny thing is, I’m fairly sure Fiona would thank me."

Rockwell stood up and exhaled loudly. Then, he spun on his heel and left the room--but not before snatching up a ceramic figurine and smashing it into the intercom on the wall.

Whitcomb followed him out and closed the door. In a low voice he said, "Sir, I’m sorry. You can fire me if you want to, but I can’t—I won’t murder for you."

"I know, Whitcomb. I didn’t mean it."

Whitcomb breathed a sigh of relief.

"Anyway, Frank Sheridan is a chicken shit coward. I’m sure he’s in there afraid to even breathe wrong around you." Scowling, Rockwell shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. "All the same, make sure he doesn’t get out."


A little after four, Fiona met Rockwell at the stables. When she arrived, she saw no grooms about, but Rockwell awaited her with her mare and her father’s gelding already saddled. She could tell immediately by the way he sat atop Goliath that he was no stranger to horses. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He seemed like one of those insufferable people who was good at everything and was almost always right.

He looked marvelous in his riding clothes. The trousers especially hugged his firm buttocks and thighs. Unbidden, the memory of those muscles flexing as he fucked her caused her to flush.

Goliath chose that moment to pound the dirt with his hoof and toss his head. Rockwell reined him in with a curt remark. "Knock it off."

"That’s Goliath," Fiona informed him. "He’s probably the most headstrong mount in the stable."

"Once he figures out who’s in charge, we’ll get along fine." Rockwell walked Goliath around in a tight circle, and Goliath wasn’t being cooperative. His tail slashed through the air and his hooves cut into the ground, but Rockwell would have none of it. "Damn it, Goliath! I’m not in the mood for this!"

Fiona mounted her mare. Cinnamon gave a soft whicker of greeting. Fiona patted her neck and reined her away from some wild grass she was eating. "None of that, you naughty girl."

"What exactly did you want to see?" she asked when he finally got Goliath under control.

"Nothing in particular. Just take me around the perimeter of the property."

She nodded and urged Cinnamon away from the river this time, back toward the main road. The Sheridan property spanned about twenty acres, bordered by the James River to the east and the highway to the west. The mansion itself perched on a low rise. Back in colonial times much of the land was used for farming. Now, a good portion of the outer reaches had been recaptured by nature, whereas the area close to the house was kept in manicured gardens and large sweeping lawns.

In an effort to lighten his mood, Fiona pointed out various historical sites as they rode. A row of slave cabins had occupied a place near the stables. They had long ago been leveled. A Civil War battle had been fought in the southeast corner of the property. After they had ridden a while, Rockwell started to loosen up. The frown lines in his forehead disappeared and he started asking her questions. In fact, many of the questions he asked, she had no answer for. She had never been very interested in history.

Fiona wondered what it was that had been bothering him. Something about the incident at the river had upset him, and she had no idea what. By all rights, she should be the one who was outraged. She was the one who had been passed like a marijuana joint for someone else’s pleasure. And yet, while part of her condemned the whole event as something from a bad porn flick, there was a part of her, that newly discovered ungovernable part, that thrived on it.

Even so, she was disappointed that Rockwell hadn’t cum in her mouth back at the river. That little bastard Luke had, and almost immediately. He’d jerked his hips in that ridiculously spastic thrusting action, as if he were having some kind of epileptic fit. After he’d shot his load, Fiona had wanted to spit the unfamiliar dick out of her mouth, but it was pulled out.

That’s when the shit had hit the fan. The other boy was supposed to take a turn in her mouth, and knowing that her brother’s life hung in the balance, she’d been prepared to cooperate. But, in no uncertain terms, Rockwell had angrily told them to beat it, which was strange to say the least. Obviously, Rockwell had invited the voyeurs to come join in, and yet, before the second man had had his turn, he’d changed his mind. The question was why?

At that moment, Goliath chose to leap forward suddenly with a harsh whinny. Rockwell cursed and wrestled with the reins as the gelding danced sideways, wrenching his neck in an effort to express his will. Fiona enjoyed watching the struggle between them. The determined expression on Rockwell’s face was wildly exciting, reminding her of how he’d looked when he’d taken her virginity. Slowly but surely, Rockwell exerted his dominance and Goliath settled down.

Unfortunately, Fiona was the one who was worked up now. That telltale tingling between her legs and the shivery heat that crept up her neck told her that she was becoming aroused watching Rockwell subdue Goliath.

"I want to let him run for a while," Rockwell said. "He’s getting obnoxious." He gave the animal a certain amount of leeway as they plodded along, but remained firm.

Goliath seemed to be under control, but was restless, tossing his head and snorting in defiance. There was a certain edginess to his gait, a lingering rebelliousness to the way he slashed his tail. Fiona could sense the gelding’s urge to be free.

She nodded and eagerly urged Cinnamon into a gallop. Her current state of arousal seemed to call for physical action, and if all she could get was the incidental clitoral stimulation from riding Cinnamon, then so be it. Knowing Rockwell’s appetite for sex, it wouldn’t be long before her own personal itch would be scratched. Maybe she could lure him into the bushes again for a quick romp.

Rockwell quickly followed her lead. They took off toward the river with Fiona about three lengths ahead, but Goliath didn’t like being held back and put on a burst of speed. It wasn’t long before Rockwell was even with her.

"The rock!" he called out.

She nodded. They would race to the rock by the river. His gray eyes glittering in challenge, Rockwell flashed her a devilish grin, then bent low over the saddle and turned his attention back to race. Fiona burst into laughter as she tightened the grip of her thighs and leaned forward. Her mare was no slouch when it came to speed; Cinnamon stretched out and did her best to catch up.

Spurring their mounts with raucous shouts and whoops Fiona and Rockwell raced along the meadow until they veered onto the riding trail they’d walked along earlier that morning. At one point, Fiona got close enough so that she could have reached out and touched Goliath’s streaming tail, but she never caught up completely. Goliath reached the rock slab just moments before Cinnamon did. Rockwell was laughing when she pulled up.

"That was incredible," Rockwell exclaimed, slapping Goliath’s neck in appreciation. "Great race!"

A carefree, exhilarated expression had transformed his face from brooding and inflexible to almost boyish in its light-heartedness. Looking at him now, Fiona felt like she was glimpsing a part of him that he rarely let out.

They let the horses walk a little to cool down. When the animals had caught their breath, Fiona and Rockwell dismounted and led them to the river’s edge, where they drank deeply.

"You’re a wonderful rider," she said. They both looked out on the river as the horses drank.

"I tried riding on a lark when I was in England once years and years ago. I actually thought going along would help clinch a business deal, and it did, but it also hooked me for life. I have an estate in—"

Suddenly, she saw a fleeting movement out of the corner of her eye, and Rockwell went down face first into the water. A moment later she felt a sharp pain in her temple and she blacked out as well.


When she came to, it took her a moment to remember what had happened. She looked around and realized she hadn’t been out very long. Two young guys were pulling an unconscious Rockwell out of the water by his arms. She recognized them as being the same two from the rock. Luke and his buddy, Eddie.

Rockwell’s head was bleeding, his blood mixed with the river water stained his white shirt pink. He didn’t look seriously hurt, but she couldn’t see much from where she lay. Luke and Eddie were arguing with each other.

"I’m telling you they’ll never find out who we are." Luke said. He yanked the drawstring out of his shorts and started tying Rockwell’s wrists with it. "There’s just no way."

"Luke, I can’t help it. I think this is a very bad idea. That guy looks rich. Did you see the gold Rolex on his wrist? He could hire some detective to track us down."

Luke scoffed. "There’s nothing to track down. All they know is our first names. Even if they get some sketch artist, there’s no way they could know where we live. We live hundreds of miles from here. It’s just you and me on a fishing trip. Neither of us have police records. There’s no license plate to pin down the state." He tightened the knot around Rockwell’s wrists with a vicious jerk. "There’s no way in hell they can find out who we are. Now put the fucking blindfold on him."

Eddie tied one rag around Rockwell’s eyes while Luke gagged him with another. Then, after dragging Rockwell completely onto the shore, they dropped him and turned their attention to Fiona. Her heart pounding, she closed her eyes, not wanting them to know she was conscious.

"Eddie, my man, I’m gonna be generous," Luke said as they approached, "You can have a go at her first, since I already did her mouth before."

"I dunno, Luke. What if…what if she bites my dick off?"

Luke laughed. "She won’t. Didn’t you see her before? She loves it. HE was the asshole who fucked everything up. I’ll bet when she wakes up, she’ll love the fact that there’s two of us to do her."

Fiona could tell from the tremble in Eddie’s voice that he was practically drooling. "Oh, man, that would be so cool."

One of them came up behind her and hooked his arms around hers. The other started tugging on her boots.

With Rockwell out of commission for who knew how long, Fiona realized she was on her own. If Luke and Eddie thought they could get away with raping her, they had another thing coming. Rockwell using her for sex was one thing. She liked what he did to her. He had finesse and he was damn good at it. These two juvenile ass-wipes were something else.

She gave a soft, sighing moan and licked her lips, before finally opening her eyes. Eddie was just tossing the second of her boots away and starting on her pants. He froze, his face reddening. That meant Luke was the one holding her arms from behind. They must have hung around fishing all day because Eddie was still wearing the same clothes.

"Hi," said Eddie, while Luke sneered.

"Sleeping Beauty wakes up."

"What’s going on?" she asked, trying to sound a little groggy.

"What’s going on is we’re gonna fuck your brains out, bitch," Luke boasted. "Your asshole protector is tied up and out cold over there."

As Eddie pulled her pants off her legs and tossed them aside, she looked over at Rockwell. He still wasn’t moving. Damn. She forced out a laugh.

"Fuck him," she said. "He ordered me around like he thought he owned me." Which was true.

Eddie glanced over her shoulder at Luke with a glint of nervous hope in his eyes, then he looked at Fiona. "You aren’t gonna scream or anything?"

"I don’t seem to have a choice here. I may as well enjoy it." She gave him the once over. Eddie sported an erection and even had a small damp spot on his shorts.

"Damn straight you don’t have a choice," Luke said. With his knees pressed into her back, he tightened his hold on Fiona. "Eddie’s first. He got gypped out of his turn before."

She looked at Eddie, who was sweating as he wrestled her panties off. "You want me to blow you, like I did your friend?"

His jaw dropped open and a wad of gum fell out onto the dirt. "Holy shit. Y-yeah. I sure do."

"Come here." Fiona pulled away from Luke a little to get on her knees. Rockwell hadn’t moved.

Eddie came close, yanking his shorts down. His penis sprang out and he grabbed it and pushed it toward her mouth. He sobbed out a ragged cry as she took the head into her mouth. Luke released one of her arms, fondled her breast through her blouse and laughed.

"Suck him good, baby," Luke said into her ear as he ripped her shirt in an effort to get to her tits. His hot hand pushed inside and clutched at her.

Like a bimbo from a porn flick, she cooed over Eddie as she slurped and licked. "Oooh, your cock tastes so good. I could suck on it all day. I wanna taste your cum."

Eddie started babbling. "Oh, man, oh, man. This is totally not happening."

As Luke pinched her nipples, Fiona noticed Rockwell stirring. Unfortunately, if she could see him, so could Luke. She had to do something drastic.

"Luke, honey, lay down so I can straddle you. I want your hot cock in my pussy." Looking up at Eddie, she murmured against the tip of his cock, "And you--fuck my mouth, Eddie. I wanna feel your cock ramming down my throat.

Eddie’s eyes went wide and he gave a nervous excited laugh. "All right!" He took her head in his hands and started thrusting with childlike gusto, while Luke got down on his back, threading his legs through Fiona’s. In this position she was pretty sure Luke’s range of vision was limited to the darkening sky and her back.

She felt Luke’s hand groping between their bodies, probing for her opening with his penis. When he found it, he surged upward with a loud grunt and gripped her hip with his free hand. Now she was being fucked in both her mouth and her pussy, but the two inexperienced frat boys couldn’t get the rhythm right. Eddie pulled at her head, Luke yanked on her hips, and Fiona felt like she was being jerked around like a marionette. Thankfully, Eddie came about fifteen seconds later. He squeaked and twitched as his penis spurted into Fiona’s mouth. When he was done, he fell down on the dirt and moaned. Fiona spit his cum out in a stream onto the dirt.

Luke, on the other hand, was determined to make this time last. She looked at him over her shoulder; he lay there, that same smarmy look on his face.

"Oh, yeah, Luke. That feels so good," she moaned.

Like hell it did. Her knees, grinding into the dirt and gravel, were killing her.

"You love it, baby," Luke said, grunting with effort. "I knew you would. You’re such a fuckin’ slut. You’ll take it any way you can get it. Am I right?

She faked a moan in response and glanced at Rockwell. He was sitting up, but his head was drooping and he swayed like he was going to conk out again. Shit. She couldn’t wait any longer; she had to make her move now.

"After I fuck your cunt, bitch, I’m gonna do your mouth again. If you do a good enough job, I might even decide not to kill yooouUUU--" Luke’s voice rose an octave as Fiona reached down, seized his balls in her hand and squeezed hard.

His shriek alerted Eddie that something was wrong. "What the—"

"Shut the fuck up, Eddie." Fiona snapped.

She kept her brutal grip on Luke’s sac and lifted herself off his dick. When she turned around to confront him, his face was gray, contorted with pain, and all that came out of his mouth was high-pitched whimpering. He still managed to try to hit her, but she dodged his half-hearted swing and squeezed harder. Luke arched off the ground and let out a wail.

"Don’t, Luke, or I swear I’ll squeeze you so hard your nuts will shoot into orbit!"

Luke jerked his head in assent as he lay there sweating, his lips white around the edges.

"Listen close, boys. I’m going to take my friend and go home and you’re going to do the same thing."

"Okay, okay," Eddie babbled. "Just calm down!"

"I’m very calm. See? I’m even smiling." She gave them a humorless laugh.

"Now, before you start thinking you’re free and clear, you should know that my friend and I have enough money to finance a small war. Which is enough to ruin your pathetic lives and not even miss it."

"But you don’t—" Eddie interrupted.

"Know who you are?" Fiona laughed. "Don’t kid yourself, Eddie. Unfortunately for you, Luke was stupid enough to wear his Tau Alpha Zeta fraternity shirt. Tracking the two of you down wherever you live will be a piece of cake."

She nodded at Eddie. "Eddie, you little shit, go untie my friend, or I rip Luke’s balls off."

Luke let out a strangled wail as Eddie scrambled to his feet and pulled his shorts up.

"Okay, okay. Sure, whatever you say!" Eddie was nodding his head like one of those toy dogs on the dash of a low-rider car. While he raced to Rockwell and freed him, she turned to Luke, who looked like he was about ready to pass out. He might be incapacitated now, but she didn’t dare let go of his balls. He was one mean son-of-a-bitch.

Fiona heard a cry of pain. When she turned her head, she saw Rockwell, shaking out his hand and striding toward her. Eddie was sprawled on the ground. Rockwell was filthy from his dunk in the river and the blood on his face and shirt.

"Get out of the way, Fiona, so I can kick the crap out of him." Rockwell’s voice was flat and hard.

Fiona hesitated. Rockwell put on a good show, but after having been in close contact with him for the last almost twenty-four hours, she noticed the waver in his step and the dazed look in his eyes.

She let go of Luke. He immediately curled up into a tight ball with his hands between his legs and cried like an infant. He wasn’t going to be a problem anymore tonight.

Fiona stood up and, trembling, went to Rockwell. He held open his arms for her and she stepped into them gratefully. He felt so strong that Fiona wanted to live in his embrace. His now familiar smell made her feel so safe.

"No, please, let’s just go home," she said into his chest.

"I want to know if they hurt you, Fiona." Even though he held her, Rockwell stood rigid, like a pillar of granite. His voice sounded barely restrained. "If they hurt you, I swear to God I’ll kill them here."

"No! No, they didn’t hurt me!" Fiona shook Rockwell’s shoulders slightly to get his attention.

"They hit you." He touched her temple and she winced, which made his brows draw together ominously.

She waved his hand away. "I’m fine, I swear. I’m fine. Please, let’s go. Leave them alone. Please." She tugged at him arm, hoping to draw him toward the horses, which stood about fifteen feet away under the cover of a tree.

With one last contemptuous look at the both of them, Rockwell relented and went toward the horses. Fiona snatched up her pants and boots and yanked them on. She was afraid that if she took too long, Luke might squeak out some lame-ass parting comment and Rockwell would storm back and choke him.

Mounting quickly, she waited just long enough to make sure Rockwell was coming, and then she dug her heels into Cinnamon’s flanks and cantered toward home.

Once back at the mansion, Rockwell sent her to her room, saying he had to secure the house. Fiona immediately pulled off her filthy clothes and threw them in the garbage. She used her bidet for a long time and thanked her lucky stars that Luke hadn’t left his sperm inside her. Then she showered with water as hot as she could stand it, as if the heat would burn away any traces of what she had done. She scrubbed her teeth with a huge glob of tooth paste. Finally, she wrapped herself in Rockwell’s thick robe and lay on the bed. Moments later she was asleep.

To Be Continued...


Click on the name for contact info and more works by Whispersecret.
How good was this story?


[Try Harder!]


[Damn Good!]



Home | Story Index | Contact Us | Other Sites

All contents © Copyright 2000 by
No part may be reproduced in any form without explicit written permission.