Some Kind of Tragedy Pt. 03

"This... this Maya, I can excuse... It's not her fault. Lena, though, is playing along. And she's no Demara, protected by a contract, or Meadow, who snuck her brat in when I wasn't ready." Helen tried to talk through the full-body tremors building in her, but it was getting harder. "Lena... nnnggg... Lena will... not... be allowed to... to..." She bit her fist as another cry threatened to erupt. She felt that familiar, loving, warm, soothing sensation of April cumming deep, deep in her, and she melted back into her lover.

When April finally, regretfully extracted herself and set about making them both presentable... as well as possible with still-naughty fingers... she looked Helen in the eye. "What won't Lena do?"

Helen straightened her maternity dress out fussily. "I will not allow her to give birth in any home owned by the family." She stared at her husband. "Zed will listen, or I will make his life a living hell."

Without another word, they rejoined the rest of the family, putting on their masks and getting along famously with all those siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews. The ones there... and the ones soon to come.

__________

With a wail and a lot of blood and gore and strife and swearing, the twins Aron and Enya were born to Helen and Zed Tellus. Ostensibly. They were beautiful and perfect, and their parents couldn't be happier. Their real parents, that was.

After making all the right noises, and having put his face time in, Zed had left Helen to nurse the boy and girl and took off to spend time with his actual favorite child, Althea. It was fine. Perfect, in fact, because that left Helen alone with her best buddy, April. Their aunt smiled and assured Zed that things were well in hand, and, the second he was out the door, things were very well in hand; those things being Helen's sensitive breasts as April finally let loose all her pent up lust from the last week or so of denial.

The two women made out like horny teenagers while their children slept inches away. Finally, though, they had to stop, since even a specimen as healthy and randy as Helen couldn't handle the kind of fucking her wife wanted to give her right then. She had literally given birth to two babies only minutes before. Still, they did enjoy spooning on the bed, planting kisses and rubbing hands all over each other while making sweet pillow-talk.

"Look at them, mistress." Helen gushed. "They are just... perfect. Little fighters, I can tell."

"Mmm, that they are." April's thumb lazily circled her pet's nipple, and she would occasionally dip her head down for a taste of what was dribbling out. "Just like their mother." She smiled. "And you, I guess."

Helen swatted her in mock anger. "So kind of you. I guess it's not enough that you chemically forced me to love you... you have to belittle me too?"

"Now, now, don't pretend you aren't blissfully happy." April bent in for a long, deep kiss.

Helen sighed sweetly. "All right, you win." She leaned her head on her wife's shoulder. "I want more." She move her hand to her aunt's snatch and started probing, looking longingly in her eyes.

"I know, pet. So do I. I like the name, Angel. That's what you'll call our next daughter."

"Ohh, you can make sure of that, huh?" Helen sped up her hand, causing April to hunch over as she came to a boil. "Not a boy again?"

April moaned and kissed her bride, then got up and walked over to her children. "Nah. One is enough. I have plans for him that I don't want to have to repeat with anyone else." She stared down with a smile. "Angry little Aron... mommy's special guy."

__________

Weeks passed this way. Months. Years.

Helen and April kept up their secret affair, their secret marriage, for decades. Helen's yearning for April never flagged, thanks to regular dosing of whatever crazy cocktail that the woman's chemists had cooked up. In fact, Helen herself would eagerly inject the drug when the time came, needing to know that she was still owned by the ravishing redhead. The stuff was amazing, and netted the corporation an obscene amount of money on the black market.

For April's part, she never lost her pride in owning the CEO's wife and second-in-command. It kept the flame going for all those years; the hiding, the taboo, the base thrill of it all. They were good parents to Aron and Enya, encouraging the twins' ambition and ruthlessness in everything they undertook. The pair of them seemed to constantly be at war with someone, finding enemies that slighted them at every turn. It made them decisive and cutthroat... and winners. If they were a bit contentious, if they like to stir the pot sometimes... it was a small price to pay for rearing a generation of the best of the best.

Zed was proud of them too, as oblivious as he was, putting them in greater and greater positions of responsibility. That satisfied Helen, but it would have been better if he'd stopped there. He didn't.

His children by Lena, Paul and Arlene, were given just as much as any of the others, despite Helen having exiled her to give birth like a criminal. The two were as disparate as twins could be; Paul, golden-haired and sensitive, loved music and dancing, and was quite adept at both. He also had a thing for competitive archery, but it didn't touch on his sister, Arlene, who was as wild as she was dark and lovely. The girl, once she was old enough and got a taste for it, seemed to not be able to stop herself from going on hunting safaris every chance she got. Her trophy room in the mansion was as impressive as it was gruesome.

Maya's boy, Herman, showed himself quickly to be a gifted athlete; an amazing runner, in particular. His competitions were attended religiously by the family, who cheered him on lustily. Zed didn't even have to fix the races to let him win, the boy was that good. There were a couple of strange things when it came to him, Helen had to note. First, weirdly enough, the boy had a good relationship with his uncle, Hayden. He worked for him in the summer, ferrying data on the company's employees, and customers, truth be told, which meant just about everyone. What Hayden was doing with all that info, Helen didn't want to know. When he bragged that, someday, everyone would be under his eye... she just shuddered.

The second thing about Herman was how much April seemed to admire the youth as he got older. Helen knew any misgivings weren't justified, though. April and Helen were inseparable, doting constantly on Aron and Enya, and on Angel, their wacky little Wiccan goth daughter. Zed commented often at how the two were more Siamese twins than friends, joined at the hip, and they just laughed in a dirty, naughty delight.

Then there was Althea. Zed's favorite. The unassailable, acknowledged genius of the family. An engineer in charge of the weapons contracts for the military... for many militaries, in all honesty; she was the face of the company for years. The golden child. Always seeming to come from her workshop with a welder's mask perched up on her gorgeous head, she never made time for any trysts with boys growing up, just as April had predicted.

There was a time, when the kids were eighteen, that Helen stumbled onto something she was honestly surprised to see. She had been a bit bored when April had taken off on a surprise jaunt with Aron to tour old Europe, so she'd decided to visit the one sibling she hadn't developed complete disdain for. Heather, right from the get go, had been one to keep to herself, and had never married, but her home was always so warm and inviting; it was a joy to come to. Usually by invitation, but Helen was sure her big sister wouldn't mind some company. She had to get lonely, without a doubt.

She'd crept in the back door with her master key, honestly excited to see her hermit of a sister. She did see her, and a whole lot more. Following some strange sounds in the seemingly empty home, she came down to a finished basement, heeding an instinct to stay quiet and unheard. When she got to the bottom and cracked open the door, a blanket-like warmth flowed over her from a roaring fire in the hearth at the back of the room, which illuminated the three figures within. And what they were doing.

"You haven't paid your tribute to your poor auntie, girls. You know what that means." Heather was clad only in a soft brown leather corset that left her still-firm breasts on display, thigh-high leather boots, and a pig's mask covering her pleasant face. In her gloved hands was a riding crop that she was testily smacking on one palm over and over. "Who volunteers to go first?"

"Please, Housemother, punish me!" Althea, bent over a padded sawhorse with her wrists tied down, wiggled her little ass in anticipation. "I've neglected you for too long! Took you for granted!" Even Helen, who never looked sideways at any other woman besides April, had to admit that Althea was... intoxicating. She'd developed into a luscious, golden-skinned vision, and her mouth watered a bit as she watched the scene play out in front of her.

Heather nodded. "Good. Very good." She sauntered over, her round hips swaying seductively, and ran a glove down her niece's juicy ass. Helen's sister wasted no time in plunging a finger in the girl's pussy, then another, and another... building as she undulated inside the moaning victim. Quicker than Helen would have credited her for, Althea was taking Heather's entire fist in there; which was evidence that this wasn't their first rodeo.

Speaking of rodeos, that was when the riding crop came down with a slap on Althea's bare skin that left an angry, livid red welt on that plump, fetching ass. "Nngg! Fuck!" She screamed out while that fist kept up its work. "Housemother! I'm sorry Housemother! I need to be punished more!" Her juices ran down her leg as she begged for Heather to fuck her up even harder.

And so she was accommodated, for a good long while. Heather was an artist, bringing her niece to the brink with precise applications of pleasure, before knocking her low with liberal bouts of pain. It was a dance, and Althea was out of her head from all of it. Helen couldn't stop watching to save her life. God, if Zed could see his little princess...

Finally, Althea seemed to be past her limit, and Heather let her come to orgasm, her entire young body shaking from head-to-toe on that sawhorse. It was then that the matronly woman turned to her other guest. "Arlene..."

In the corner, Paul's twin sister, wild, celibate Arlene, had her hands tied behind her back with a ball-gag in her mouth. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her head shook back and forth in denial. Helen couldn't help but note, however, that the eighteen-year-old virgin animal-killer was positively dripping on that thick carpeting in front of the blazing fire place, and it wasn't just with sweat.

When Heather went to work, so did Helen. Just as years before when spying on Zed and Demara, she was compelled to include herself in the proceedings, plunging fingers deep in her cunt while positively abusing her nipples... just as Arlene was being positively abused by her big sister.

Arlene must not have been indoctrinated like Althea, because the girl put up a fight. With her sleek, defined muscles and supple, athletic limbs, Helen thought she might actually come out on top, but Heather knew what she was doing, which raised the question of just what kind of trail of broken young women she'd left behind over the years. Zed must have been paying off a legion of angry families.

It wasn't all that long before the ball-gag was out of Arlene's mouth, replaced by Heather's hairy pussy as she rode her niece to completion. "You... ooh, you're... you're quite the quick learner." Heather undulated her hips on the girl's face while unknowingly matching her sister in pulling hard on her own exposed nipples, that pig's mask twitching as the face under did as well. "That tongue... it's like you... fuuuck... you're stabbing me with a daggerrrrrrr! Ooooo...." The middle-aged woman trembled as she came, grunting like her mask as she bent over to drive even more of herself onto her niece.

Next to them, having somehow gotten out of her cuffs, Althea had crawled over to bury her face in her aunt's own juicy ass, shoving her own tongue right past that balloon knot. Heather looked behind her and smiled, then pointed down. Althea, clever girl that she was, got the picture and plunged right into her little sister's cunt, causing Arlene to squeal like she had her own pig mask on.

From that moment on, the three were joined together in one lump of flesh. Arlene and Althea were totally under Heather's thumb, doing what their auntie, their Housemother said, without question, in order to keep experiencing the bliss they'd denied themselves for so long. Three virgins, drowning in pleasure. It was poignant and poetic, and too much for Helen. After a making her own little mess, Helen made her exit, vowing to come back sometime to see if there were any new developments.

__________

The Chair. That's what she was offered. A position of such power in the company that it might as well have been called the Throne. The head of the Resources and Means division, in addition to her own continued influence in Family Planning, would put her, in her own way, on equal footing with Zed himself. When the paperwork came via anonymous courier, she was skeptical, but a quick check with the Board and scary Uncle Tarrence showed that it was all legit, so she went to Zed himself, incredulous. He had just shrugged and said that someone from legal had assured him it was in everyone's best interest, so she could go right ahead.

Once she got permission from April, Helen took the Chair, and it fit her to a T. A pristine seat of power that quickly revealed itself to be a perfect, gilded trap. In no time flat, she was buried under the tedious minutiae of the job, bound to the position day in and day out. It was barely a month, a month of neglecting April, a month of missing her top-offs from her wife's chemists, before she wanted out. She went to legal to get the paperwork in that would divest her of the Chair, and that's when it really set in.

"Um, no ma'am. I'm sorry, we can't do that." The mousey clerk cleared his throat nervously when she'd glared at him. "It's... out of our hands. All that fine print... if you try to divest, you'll be relinquishing everything. I mean everything. You'll be... well... a Smith again."

Helen was dumbstruck. "What the fuck? Who did this? Where did this come from?"

"The maker? I guess..." The clerk squinted, flipping pages. "Wow. It was the new chief. Um, head of the legal department. He almost never leaves his office."

After a lot of yelling and threatening, Helen got the location of that office and stormed away, determined to use whatever means she could to get this mystery adversary to give her her freedom back. She found the place easily enough, it wasn't like it was a cave hidden away somewhere on a forgotten island. She practically kicked the door in as she entered, her eyes flaring with rage as she laid eyes on the hairy, ugly man that was responsible for bringing her to the brink. "Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you trying to ruin my life?"

The man smiled, obviously waiting for just this moment. "Trying nothing. Your life is mine to determine one way or another. Even your husband can't force me to let you go, my deal is that iron-clad." He got up and shuffled to a corner, pouring himself a glass of some amber spirit. She noted that he walked with a limp, and distantly thought it ironic. Zero Lymp...

"I have no intention of letting you go. Ever." He eyed her up and down with a sneer, his eyes blatantly lingering over every inch of her, from her still-lustrous brown hair, to her gravity-defying tits that strained her blouse, down to those fashionable shoes that April made her wear.

She shuddered and crossed her arms in front of her, forcing herself to maintain control. "Are you a psycho, or do you think I've done something to deserve this? I've never met you. I don't even know your name."

"You have met me. And you named me. Bitch." He slammed his glass down.

Helen froze, and it all came together. "...Hezekiah?" She knew it was true immediately. Her firstborn child, the one she'd completely forgotten about over the years, was here in front of her, tearing her life to shreds.

"Yep. Guess you're not a blind monster, just the regular kind. I'd call you mother, but we both know that's not true. You're just the whore who popped me out and left me to rot." Hezekiah stepped right up in front of her, his hairy, hunched, ugly body only inches from her voluptuous beauty. "Lucky for me, father is a little more apt to keep his obligations. He made sure I was educated and cared for... well enough. He sent me to the best law school in the world, and made me head of the division a year ago."

Hezekiah leaned in, bracing one huge hand on the wall behind her and forcing her back with his presence alone. "I worked with Grandpa Craig's exiled brothers, coming up with tools and weapons for the courtroom. I'm very, very good. Your golden Chair is proof of that."

Helen's throat was raw with fear. "What... what do you want from..."

The blunt tongue down her throat came simultaneously with a hand reaching up and tearing open her blouse. Her braless tits flapped free for all of a second before Hezekiah's hands were on them, and as much as she tried to struggle away under his grip, it was as fruitful as a kitten pulling itself from the jaws of a mastiff. Helen groaned in fear and agony at the rough treatment, her mind panicking even as he spun her around and shoved her forcefully against the wall, her face pressed hard to the brick.

"No! nnnooooo..." Helen's protests picked up steam when she heard the sound of a zipper, and she renewed her pointless thrashing against the heavily-muscled arm holding her in place. "Get away! Stop! Stop! Don't... Aaargh!"

Hezekiah's strange, lumpy, thick cock penetrated her fully in one thrust, and her eyes bulged in horror. "Get... get out of... ungh, ungh... get out of... me..." It was futile. Her boy, her abandoned firstborn, was fucking the ever-loving shit out of her, and she could feel the years of cultivated hate in the act. He slammed her again and again, her face getting abraded by the rough brick it was pressed against, her tits mauled by his other hand, and her pussy aflame with the abuse. For a time.

Why... why is this... I can't be...

It happened by moments. Subtly. At first, she stopped protesting, recognizing the futility. Then, when he came in her for the first time, then threw her onto her desk, still bent over, she found her hips swaying a bit in a strange anticipation. When he speared her again, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. After the second time he filled her, he tossed her to the ground and took her face-to-face, wanting to see her eyes.

That's when Helen climaxed all over her son's cock.

He laughed like a maniac, and rode her even harder, and all she could do was turn her head and cry. God, I am so broken inside.

Hezekiah fucked his absentee mother for hours, taking her every way a man can take a woman. When he fucked her ass, a first for her in her life, he told her to beg for more, and she complied. When he needed a break, he forced her to lay her head in his lap to lick and suck his twisted cock like an eager girlfriend until he was ready to fuck her again. Helen hated it. She hated him. She hated herself for how thoroughly she gave in, and for how many times her tormenter made her cum and plead for more.

When Hezekiah finally had enough, he pushed Helen out of his office without a single parting word. She staggered down the hall, trying to keep her torn clothing on long enough to get into a car and get the hell out, tears streaming down her face. She made a vow then; she would not give up. There had to be something she could do. Someone who could save her.