The Theft of Our Lives 09 Pt. 01

The Theft of Our Lives 09, Pt. 1

By Tug Coxwell

Disclaimer: This multi-chapter story contains various sex acts between adults, including but not limited to incest, cuckolding, interracial, oral, heterosexual, bisexual, lesbian, and non-consensual sex in the form of blackmail and coercion, although not all appear in every chapter. The story, all names, and all characters are fictional. Any resemblance to entities or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. In real life, all non-consensual sex is immoral, illegal, and not condoned by the author. All characters are 18-years-old or older. All rights reserved.

THE SURPRISE

Shortly after my return from Duluth and the inglorious night spent half-awake suffering the pain of the remittent shocks to my testicles and the loud moans of Emma cumming powerfully under the masterful fucking of Nathan Wagnell, my wife filled me in on the detail of what occurred during the week I was gone.

Opaque in her text messages, Emma was now completely transparent. I learned about her seduction of Kellen, but also about what happened at the meeting with Hank on Tuesday while I labored at Driscoll's as my entire family went incommunicado.

I sat listening intently as my sweet, compromised late-30's wife elaborated in gritty detail as she intricately described her successful seduction of our 18-year-old son, hearing her meticulous account of Kellen hammering her so effectively it painted a word picture in my head so erotic I simply couldn't stop myself from getting hard in my unforgiving cage.

I really don't know if it was the result of some cruel instruction from Hank, or just a mischievous notion of her own as vengeance for my failed embezzlement scheme, but Emma didn't hold back depicting the nearly eight-inch size of Kellen's youthful cock or how it dwarfed my own.

"I gotta tell you, Ray, you should be proud of our son. He's well-hung and nailed me pretty damn good," Emma mused straightforwardly with a teasing slight to my lesser manhood. "Must be something genetic on my side of the family because he sure as hell didn't get it from you."

One thing I was certain about, this wasn't a one-off, and Hank intended this to be the norm going forward.

As Emma continued relating the events to me, she explained about the text received from Hank the next morning following her success after Kerri and Kellen went to class.

"B @ office @ 4pm. Surprises. Bring kids."

Apprehensive about his intent, Emma knew Tuesday was her deadline, so was certain the meeting included at the very least confessing details to my perverted employer of her week's efforts seducing our unsophisticated son.

Although Emma explicitly understood Kellen and our appealing 19-year-old freckle-faced daughter Kerri were now fully ensnared in the corrupt bargain to save our family, she instinctively didn't like surprises when it came to Hank, as they invariably resulted in some new form of humiliation and debasement.

Knowing Hank and his lewd proclivities, she wasn't surprised that Kellen's presence was required, guessing Hank wanted a live demonstration rather than a mere description. Kerri's attendance was more disquieting, as our unaware daughter didn't yet know of her younger brother's introduction to the deal.

In addition, Kellen quite frankly knew nothing of his big sister's participation either, and it was very likely to be a shocking and rude awakening to our family's new reality, with Emma rightfully fearing the full ramifications as we sunk into the web of depravity.

After receiving Hank's text, Emma dutifully messaged the kids, telling them to be home by 3:00 p.m. When they arrived, they were naturally inquisitive. All she told them was they needed to go by my office because my boss had something to show them.

Dressed in their usual everyday attire, the three headed out, with Kerri in a cotton printed summer dress and sandals, while Kellen wore his ubiquitous jeans and polo shirt for a look common to young guys.

Emma donned a typical spring outfit of designer jeans and chic t-shirt with pumps, showing off her figure but not anything inappropriately revealing for an office visit. Her mid-length chestnut hair was tied in a ponytail as usual fronted by her fashionable black eyeglasses framing her sparkling emerald eyes.

Allenby's offices are only 15 minutes away, so they easily arrived by 4:00 p.m., which was wise since Hank highly values punctuality, especially when he has something planned. Wisely, Emma didn't want to provide him any incentive to punish our family further, at least no more than the disgraceful acts she suspected he had in store for the afternoon.

"Welcome, Mrs. Tyler, please wait here," Janet Ogawa, Hank's personal assistant, greeted them before the early-thirties, dark-haired Japanese woman disappeared into his office.

Nerves built within Emma, fearing what this afternoon had in store, while Kerri stared off into space feeding her own puzzlement about her brother's presence and remaining unaware of his conscription. Obliviously, Kellen fidgeted with his cell phone.

"You may show yourselves into Mr. Allenby's office now?" Mrs. Ogawa's disembodied voice finally sounded over the intercom.

Emma paused momentarily fearing the worst, and then simply followed the instructions despite her anxiety, realizing delaying only added to their problems.

"C'mon, let's see what this is about," she told our son and daughter, standing bravely in taking the lead.

Entering the expansive office, they found Hank was seated at his desk looking relaxed and strangely pleased with himself. As they approached, Emma noticed something odd yet also familiar about the way he was seated, appearing to slouch backwards with his upper body set slightly away from the desk and his head reclining against the headrest.

Drawing closer to the front of the desk, she was shocked to realize why he was positioned in such a way, as coming barely into view, and just as quickly disappearing and reappearing again in a clear bobbing motion, was the back of a woman's head.

"Ohhh, my," Emma sighed reflexively.

Hank was obviously getting a blowjob right in front of her and our kids, and instantly, she assumed the unlucky gal was Janet Ogawa, since she'd come in a few minutes earlier but hadn't left, although the hair seemed wrong somehow.

'One of her many 'job duties' as personal assistant, no doubt,' my sympathetic wife pitied, remembering Janet's role from previous sessions with the strict but honorable Asian woman while perfecting her own unimpressive blowjob skills.

When the preoccupied woman under the desk lifted her head in reaction to the verbal gasps emitted by my wife and kids upon realizing what she was doing, Hank simply placed his hand on the back of her neck keeping her at her task.

"I'm so glad you could come, ohh, I may cum soon myself. Would you like something to drink?" Hank joked, unable to resist the joke, then graciously offering a beverage over the quiet slurping sounds.

"No, thank you, Mr. Allenby," Emma, Kerri, and Kellen politely declined as one.

"So, I wanted to see how you were getting along with everything, Emma?" Hank inquired, letting the trio stand rather than offering chairs and cutting to the chase in his usual manner.

Suddenly, the woman sucking Hank's cock stopped -- a fact immediately catching Emma's attention, wondering at the abrupt pause thinking she probably didn't realize she had an audience until now.

"I didn't tell you to stop!" Hank barked sternly. "I'm almost there, despite your half-assed ability."

There was a muffled whimper and then the head began gently bobbing up and down again, but the unmistakable sound of gentle sniffling couldn't be ignored as the woman was clearly upset.

"Emma, did you successfully complete your assignment?" Hank continued forthrightly.

No one in the room knew what Hank was referring to except he and my wife, as Kerri was still unaware of Hank's order for her mother and Kellen hadn't yet made the connection between my boss and the threat to our family forcing his mother to take him into our bed.

"Yes, Hank, I did," Emma answered faintly, bowing her head in disgrace.

"Wahhh," the woman under the table burst into tears, unable to hold back any longer and sobbing out loud while taking her mouth off Hank's cock.

"Damn it! This is no way to impress me if you want to stay out of jail, honey," my perturbed boss chastised, but the poor woman continued to cry uncontrollably.

'So, that's what he has on her, just like me and Ray,' Emma empathized compassionately.

"Awww hell, okay," Hank conceded before lightly admonishing the crying woman. "I wanted to save this for afterward, but clearly you lack your sister's ability to perform with even a hint of stoic dignity and pride."

'Sister?' my intrigued wife wondered. 'He's got her sister too?'

"Get up here and we'll finish this later. I'll be sure you have plenty to bawl about then," he warned angrily, clearly unhappy with the waylaid woman's perceived failure.

Emma cringed at the words, knowing the unfortunate woman would suffer ten times the humiliation in retaliation. Still, she couldn't understand why our family's presence affected the woman so, unless she was new to the job or not accustomed to an audience.

Now, the humbled woman shook her head vigorously in refusal while staying on her knees, afraid to crawl out from her hiding place in the well of the desk and stand up.

"Shit, I'm not asking! Get your ass out here and stand up," Hank growled.

Kerri hadn't seen this angry tone from Hank before, cowering while watching the spectacle. Kellen didn't know what to think, still in awe my boss had a woman under his desk giving him a blowjob before their very eyes.

Finally, Hank grabbed a clump of the kneeling woman's hair, pulling her from under the desk.

"No, please nooo!" the horrified woman begged in resistance, but the pain in her scalp forced her to follow his lead until she was out from under the table.

Hank brazenly stood, naked from the waist down with his hard cock at full attention, dragging the reluctant woman with him and turning her to face my shocked wife and kids.

"OHHHHH! OH, NOOOOO!!!" Emma shrieked, placing her hand to her mouth.

It was her younger sister, Betsy.

*****************

EARLIER THAT DAY

The unknown number flashed on Betsy Fitzgerald's cell phone about 1:00 p.m. as she tidied the house. She thought about letting it go to voicemail, but at the last second swiped the green bar out of curiosity.

It was Hank Allenby.

Betsy's wife, Samantha, or as she more commonly preferred, Sam, was out beating the bushes for work, whereas their 18-year-old son, Robbie, was at school in his senior year much like our son, Kellen. As an independent business consultant, Sam made a good living and was a good provider but was presently between contracts and out prospecting for her next client.

Betsy met Sam Fitzgerald her freshman year in college, and while somewhat butch in her attitude and appearance, Sam was nonetheless beautiful, vivacious, and strong.

Tall and angular, Sam wore masculine clothing, eschewed make-up, and kept her strawberry blonde hair cropped short, tight, and spiked. If she wanted to show more feminine traits, she'd surely be an eye-catching femme fatale to any man, and she was regardless, in her own way.

None of that dissuaded Betsy from her attraction to the striking college lesbian.

Straight and conservatively raised, just as Emma, Betsy had never even thought about women romantically, at least, until she met Sam. They hit it off so well and the attraction was so strong, she soon realized Sam offered companionship and love in a way missing from her unsatisfactory relationships with men.

From that point on, Betsy gave up men completely and the unlikely duo were a team.

Betsy was certainly more feminine -- a classic 'lipstick' lesbian, dressing in girly fashion to the Nine's, tastefully applied make-up, and generally playing the role of wife in the household while Sam pursued her career. Even Betsy's short-cropped pixy-cut chestnut brown hair was cutesy rather than butch, with ringlet curls and a fun feel.

"It's cut this way because I like it," she'd explain when asked about if she was making a statement with the style.

Neither woman hated men, they simply preferred women and loved each other, so didn't pay attention to what anyone said or thought.

The couple had Robbie through Betsy's in-vitro fertilization after she dropped out during her first year and were otherwise the proto-typical modern American family. When gay marriage became legal, they formalized their already longstanding relationship with Betsy taking Samantha's surname.

On this day, Betsy was surprised to say the least when Hank called.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" she asked twice before remembering my boss from the introduction at our backyard pool before engaging in small talk while Betsy wondered how he got her number and why in the world he'd be calling.

Unfortunately, she'd learn soon enough.

"I know this is a little unusual, Betsy, but after we met that afternoon a piece of information came to my attention I think you should know about," Hank stated, sounding terribly concerned for her welfare. "Would you be available to meet at my office in an hour?"

This whole conversation was bizarre, and while Betsy didn't have any reason to feel uncomfortable about his request, she wanted to know more first.

"I'm sorry Hank, but this is just so out of the blue. What's it about?" she probed curiously. "What's so urgent that I need to race over to your office?"

"I'd rather not talk about it on the phone, but I do think it's urgent we discuss it. Suffice it to say, your secret, or should I say Robbie's, could become public knowledge unless immediate action is taken," Hank counseled, his tone now deadly serious, with even a hint of menace.

A dark pall suddenly overcame Betsy at the mention of her ingenuous son, scaring the hell out of my sister-in-law.

'He knows. How could he know?' she thought with a shiver running through her body telling her she needed to find out just how much he knew and exactly what 'immediate action' needed to be taken.

"Okay, Hank. Give me the address and I'll be there by 2:00," Betsy responded after a brief pause, while unsuccessfully disguising her worry.

"I knew Emma's sister was smart. I'll see you soon," Hank approved satisfactorily.

*****************

Betsy showed up at Allenby Consolidation right on time and was immediately escorted into Hank's office. Dressed in a smart, professional navy-blue skirt and blazer with a light blue blouse and modest black heels, she wanted to project intelligence and control, while internally fearing what the man had to discuss so insistently.

As she learned later, after meeting her at the pool, Hank hadn't delayed digging through Betsy's past for any kind of dirt, hoping to ensnare her in the same manner he had our family. He had vast resources for such skullduggery, and now, he planned to lay out what he knew and unfold his lecherous plan.

With Betsy nervously fidgeting with her cup of coffee, my scheming boss set out in explicit detail everything he'd learned about the hit-and-run accident a few years ago, describing the scene as if he'd been there.

Apparently, Robbie had taken a bus to pick-up Betsy from a friend's apartment where she'd consumed a few too many glasses of wine and was in no condition to drive. Although he hadn't received his driver's license yet, Robbie was driving the family's SUV that night with Betsy in the passenger seat when he hit a man walking along the side of the road in an industrial section of town.

"Take off, Robbie! Hurry," Betsy panicked in her poor inebriated judgment, believing the man was okay and no one had seen them, while encouraging Robbie to flee the scene of what was an undeniable 'hit and run.'

In fact, the man was knocked unconscious and suffered a severe head injury leaving him unable to recall what happened.

For the past three years, Betsy believed they had managed to avoid detection and certain prosecution. What she didn't know was that a security camera at a nearby manufacturing plant caught the accident.

In a stroke of bad luck, the plant was owned by a colleague and friend of Hank's, landing the tape into his possession when the private investigator he'd hired to check her background struck gold by connecting a repair to her vehicle with the unsolved hit-and-run.

"Why don't we watch the tape, Betsy?" Hank proposed confidently. "I'm sure you'll agree about what happened, along with your and Robbie's criminal liability."

Using high-tech video enhancement, it was clear to anyone watching what had occurred and who was driving the SUV. A professional lip reader even detected Betsy mouthing the words "Take off, Robbie!" to her son.

"What? No. Oh no," Betsy wept into her hands when the tape ended, shaken and benumbed.

My devastated sister-in-law's projected intelligence and control vanished in an instant, leaving only a whimpering mother in peril of prison for herself and a ruined future for her son. Robbie would most assuredly be removed from the family and sent to juvenile detention since he was a minor at the time.

That didn't even consider the civil liability to the injured man in a lawsuit certain to follow, throwing the entire Fitzgerald household into dissolution and bankruptcy.

Hank watched Betsy cry for several minutes.

It was always his favorite part of his entrapment schemes -- watching a disconsolate woman realize she had no options, that she was at his mercy, and finally recognizing she must do whatever he demanded to stay out of trouble and keep her family intact.

It was a sure-fire tactic my heartless boss had perfected over many occasions, and he quite simply got off on it. Well, it and the depraved sex that invariably followed.

'The way she cries reminds me of Emma. They really are so much alike. You can tell they're sisters beyond just their looks and bodies,' Hank marveled to himself, lasciviously studying his baleful prey.

Finally, Betsy regained some composure, at least enough to squeak plaintive questions between her tears.

"Why are you telling me this? Are you trying to help us? Can you help us?" she asked distraughtly, realizing Hank could have taken the video to the police but had called her instead.

"Calm down, Betsy. I could, and frankly, probably should take this to the D.A. He's a friend of mine, you know," Hank paused, letting the gravity of the situation take hold, then continuing to give the mid-thirties beauty an inkling of hope.

"When I met you the other day you seemed so nice and friendly, and besides, I'm so fond of Ray and Emma," my boss commiserated with a saccharine smile, disingenuously conveying an understanding look of solace into the reddened eyes of the lovely, troubled woman destined to become his newest acquisition.

"When I received this information, I thought maybe I could help you out. You know, keep you and your son out of jail," he offered optimistically while at the same time purposefully emphasizing the severity of her dire circumstance.

"Of course, that would also keep your family together and out of the poor house," Hank added, displaying a genuine capacity for combining hope with menace in the same thought.

"All it takes is for you to do as I tell you and I'm sure the police will never know about this video. That way, you and Robbie can go about your life as normal. Well, almost normal," my wicked employer so easily feigned reassurance with his 'concerned' act polished over many similar performances.

"What can I do? Please, tell me what to do," Betsy queried anxiously, ignorant of the gravity of her desperate plea, or that Hank always waited for it as his cue to close the trap.