The Theft of Our Lives -- Samantha

Sweat accrued on his brow while straining to contain the wagging hips of the tiring woman but with an unrepentant glee Hank understood the worthiness of his effort.

Worse, Sam's flailing and squirming attempts at escape created an inadvertent rubbing of the inner walls of her warm sheath against the sensitive skin of Hank's shaft, unintentionally massaging his pulsating tool increasing his pleasure and unfortunately her own too.

Gradually, her wails of protest became intermixed with an occasional grunt when Hank bottomed out on a particularly forceful thrust deep into her gradually acquiescing cunt.

"Pleeease, Hank, I can't, ohhh, I can't take a man's, um, cock in me," she complained, but the throaty groans told only of the slow decline of her will resisting the building sensations in her body.

Hank saw the change envelope his weakening new acquisition and her growing exhaustion, with her struggles diminishing in strength and her will to resist the debilitating strokes of his cock lessening.

Sam's anguished face and contorting torso was coated in a sheen of perspiration, her arms shaking and tiring, her knees sore and legs wavering under her strenuous battle against Hank's insistent fucking.

"Ohhh, ohhh, nooo, I can't," she sighed remorsefully as her angry demeanor transitioned to vanquished resignation fucking a man -- used like so many other women she'd known.

Sam's sobs of denial slowly became subservient to the heaviness of her breathing, and the growing frequency of her moans more apparent. Her interior muscles reflexively grabbed the thick shaft as a syncopated rhythm developed with an almost imperceptible push of her hips meeting each thrust from the laboring businessman.

"Unnhhh, ohhh, oh, please, agghhh," her litany of sighs repeated as Hank hammered his pulsating meat into the depths her engulfing cunt.

Sam's faltering ability at fending him off only encouraged Hank to press his advantage further, ramping up his pummeling of her gaping pussy into a rapid, spitfire reaming of her acquiescent fuck hole.

'WAP, WAP, WAP,' the power of each drive slapped his hips against her flattening ass, pushing her entire torso forward until the thin lips on her mouth brushed the willowy dampness of Marg's quivering twat.

Sam closed her eyes, slowly dropping her head signaling her complete surrender to the onslaught of Hank's cock, overcoming her disgust with his persistent hammering of her previously untrodden cunt, her lesbian pride, and her very womanhood.

Even then, this milestone in Sam's descent into servitude was merely the first step.

Hank wanted the unhappy wife, mother, and consultant to join her wife Betsy in unresisting obeisance to his desires and commands. He intended to break her to his mighty shaft in the same manner he had her spouse, my wife, our daughter, and countless other unfortunate women.

"C'mon, Sam, ride me baby!" Hank cajoled, fucking her hard, and not satisfied until she orgasmed -- cumming in acknowledgement of the power of his cock.

Sam could cry later over her sexual collapse, for all he cared, but she would submit. She didn't need to like it, and in fact, he preferred she keep her revulsion for men and their nasty cocks, but he was determined she would submit.

"Unngh, unnggh, unngggh," Sam's grunts were now the only sounds escaping her slobbery lips, with a hint of drool wetting their surface and a string of saliva slipping from her mouth.

Slowly yet inexorably, my self-assured, steel-nerved sister-in-law lost herself to the steady pounding as Hank endlessly fed his thick cock into her helpless pussy. An almost numbing sensation of pleasure and arousal overtook her lean body, spreading from the epicenter of her quivering pelvis through her shuddering inner thighs and up to her belly.

Sam's tits shimmied within the confinement of her bra, jumping in time to the rhythm of the sawing column while the ache in her shoulders created an exquisite pain she couldn't ignore as a rising tide of lust grew between her legs unlike anything even a well-applied strap-on had ever accomplished.

"Ohhh, ohhhhh, agghhhhh," her heavy moans gained intensity, signaling to her unwanted partner he was close to his goal and that Sam's physical breakdown was nearly complete.

Now, the opportunity to ensure her mental and spiritual reduction was upon her as well.

"Huh-huh, take it, Sam, whew," Hank panted harshly, his exhaustion gaining on him too. "Take my cock, uggh, like a proper bitch."

Even after more strokes and more groans and more sighs from the beleaguered woman, he remarkably kept at it.

"How does, unnh, your tight, virgin, unhh, lezzie cunt like its first, aggh, real cock?" Hank mercilessly growled, degrading her terribly and breathing hard, but not relenting. "You're gonna cum, aren't you, dyke? You're gonna cum, uhh, on a man's cock!"

"Ohhh, nooo! No, I can't. Ohhh, please, I can't!" Sam wailed unremittingly, her despair such she was pleading with herself every bit as much as my boss, driving on unmoved.

"It's okay, doll, unnh, to cum," he challenged demeaningly. "It's okay, mmmh, to like cock. To need cock!"

"Ohhh, fuck, noooo!" she yowled her resistance.

Hank knew he had Sam on the brink, but she needed to experience loss in order to know what she was missing, so in that way know what she needed.

So, without warning, he withdrew. Completely.

"Awwwhhhhh! Whaattt, uh, are you doing?" Sam yelped, stunned by the sudden vacancy in her now-demanding cunt.

"What do you want, Sam? What do you need?" Hank asked the simple questions.

"Ohhh, you bastard! Just finish it, damn you. Just do it, Hank," she snarled, at his mercy and knowing it but unable to bring herself to admit it, yet.

"Finish what, Sam? What do you want?" he replied, unwilling to return his bobbing prick until he got what he desired from the increasingly dependent woman.

"You know, just do it," Sam complained, not giving him what he wanted.

"What, Sam?" Hank insisted.

"Agghhh, I'm so close. Please, Hank, just put it back in me. Ohhh, please, put it back in me," she conceded, saying what she thought he wanted to hear.

Try as she might, Sam's plea wasn't enough for my purposeful boss. Only absolute submission provided in the form of total surrender sufficed for his design.

"I need more, Sam," he advised ruthlessly. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me."

Hank was playing a dangerous game, risking Sam losing her desire and subsequently his control if he withheld his cock too long from her blazing hot, but currently empty vagina. Still, he'd played this game to perfection in the past, and suspected she was about to give in and beg him to finish fucking her greedy pussy until she came.

"Ohhh, okay, uhh, please Hank, put your, umm, put your, uhh, cock back in me!" Sam stammered, struggling to say the word until her need overcame her pride.

She was quite literally sobbing by now, enduring the final insult to her lesbian pride in her desperation to get what she wanted and what she now truly needed so much.

"Please, Hank, please put you cock in me," my proud sister-in-law wept. "Please, fuck me, umm, fuck my pussy."

It was a difficult request, but was followed by a quieter refrain, and under her breath with a hint of supplication signaling her utter collapse of will, Sam begged.

"Please, Hank, fuck me," she whimpered her defeat. "Please, make me cum. I need to cum. Please, just finish me."

Victoriously, my grinning boss obliged, slipping the fullness of his hard cock into Sam's snug warm sleeve granting the swollen relief she desperately demanded.

"Ooohhhhh, dear god, yesssss. Just fuck me, ahhh, fuck me hard," my relieved sister-in-law sighed her satisfaction with the reintroduction of the older businessman's pleasure-giving tool.

Sam was now lost, grateful for the much-needed return of a despised cock into her proscribed pussy granting her the release she franticly craved.

His goal achieved, Hank did exactly as asked, ramping up the velocity and power of his staccato thrusts, pumping his 8" shaft mercilessly into Sam's receptive cunt hole, and feeding her hungry pussy with his rigid cock.

"Uunng, ugghh, guugghhh," she grunted whenever her new master forcefully planted his dominating spear fully into her conquered pussy sleeve, with his mighty cockhead burrowing undeterred into the vast reaches of her womanhood.

Plowing new ground with each stroke, Hank worked hard raising her overwhelming arousal to a fever pitch until crying aloud for the climax now within her reach.

"Ohh, ohh, ohh," Sam's moans came in rapid succession as Hank used the full length of his hearty lance to devastating effect, driving his new pet over the edge.

"Ahh, Hank, give it to me! Ohhh, give me your cock, I'm sooo fuuucking clooooose," my fallen sister-in-law begged without shame in a drawn-out plea.

Driving his fat cock home for the umpteenth time, and slick with her freely flowing cunt juices, Sam's back suddenly arched, and her head shot up, blue eyes slammed shut but mouth yawning in a wide 'O' of release.

"AAAGGGGHHHHH!!!" her harkening demise filled the room, howling a symphony of cunt-jarring, toe-curling, body-racking pleasure from her exploding pussy to her quaking thighs, rocking her shaking torso to the tips of her spiked hair.

Sam's orgasmic crescendo rang for a full minute before the stunned eyes of Marg, Brad, and even Hank, marveling at the strength and completeness of her sublime submission to sexual fulfillment for the first time on a man's cock.

"Ooowwwhhhhh! Fuuucckinggg cuummming! Puhhhleassse, don't stop, ohhhhhhh!" Sam caterwauled, senseless and shuddering throughout her cries, concluding her climax with a garbled lyric to the chorus of ecstasy roiling her body.

It was as impressive an orgasm any her audience ever witnessed, and Hank finally succumbed to his own lust, grunting aloud slamming his pulsating crown to the back of her cunt and erupting with pent-up seed.

"Gggrrruunnnpphhh!" he grunted his release, pouring a river of cum into the core of his heartbroken sex doll's uterus, with jet upon jet of his nasty glutinous spunk overflowing the folds of her cavern walls previously unsullied by male jism.

Hank's sweaty nut sack pressed to her gaping slit, pumping his voluminous load into the demoralized woman's fuck channel, with the remnants dripping from the seal of his swollen shaft were it met the rubbery inflamed lips of her pulsing snatch.

Touting his dominance, between the panting breaths of his recovery, with his flinching meat buried to the hilt in the downtrodden wife and mother, Hank diminished her one last time with a demeaning slander of her lesbian lifestyle.

"There you go, Samantha! You wanted it, well, feast on my cum!" he bellowed with a telling rage, purposefully using the more feminine version of her name.

"Oh, oh, oh, filling me," Sam babbled almost incoherently, unable to gain her senses under the tremoring remnants of her compelling climax.

"Swallow it with your tight pussy," Hank ranted, possessed by his triumph. "Now you know what a cunt is for, dyke!"

It was a cruel insult to his proud lesbian fuck doll but one lighting up a panic in her blue eyes, shooting open and inflamed by fear with a sudden realization.

"Oh, my god! You came in me?!!!" Sam scolded, extremely agitated and highly disturbed as her euphoria wore away and the consequences of what just occurred dawned on her foggy mind.

"No, no, no! You can't cum in me. I'm fertile," she squawked, losing it emotionally and physically, swinging her shoulders shaking loose the recumbent newlywed, Marg.

Violently, Sam shifted her hips forward, dislodging Hank's deflating cock as he released her hips, setting her free while completing her descent even more thoroughly than he had hoped.

"Hank, damn you, I'm a lesbian! I don't use birth control!" my frenzied sister-in-law screeched indignantly.

Hank sat on his haunches, his wet cock drooping as it softened and tremendously pleased at Sam's distress, with the cure for her fears requiring Marg's participation and further indoctrination into the bisexual lifestyle.

"You fucking bastard! Why did you cum in me? Oh, my god, Hank, I could get pregnant!" she railed to Hank's clear amusement between protests of despair.

Sam was freaking out about that awful reality and little else. Her recriminations about accepting Hank's deceitful offer, her concession to his control, and even the soul-destroying reality of her descent and all that came with it, could be rationalized later.

For now, the concern inhabiting her overwrought mind was that she carried a cunt-full of Hank's virile spunk, evidenced by the vestige of translucent jism dripping from her soiled gash and smearing the exterior of her tumescent cunt lips.

"What? You don't want to have my baby?" Hank taunted with mock disappointment, playing with her anxiety while enjoying her anguish. "Don't you want a little brother, Brad?"

"Oh, dear god, this can't be happening?" Sam muttered under her breath, searching for an exit to her dire circumstance and seeing none. "I can't get knocked-up. Oh, my god, what would Betsy say?"

"Well, if you don't want my baby, we'd better get those little swimmers out of you," my ersatz employer suggested, pretending to be helpful.

"Of course, I'm a guy. I don't have anything here for douching," he acceded apologetically. "Maybe Marg can help? You know, return the favor from earlier."

Marg's ears immediately pricked up, no longer lingering under the debilitating effects of the earth-shattering orgasm she'd experienced from the adroit tongue-work of the troubled gay stranger she'd only just met. Young and unsophisticated, the beautiful bride wasn't sure exactly where Hank was going, but it didn't sound good.

"Oh my, yes. Yes, Marg, help me? You have to help me," Sam begged, the lights blinking on in her feverishly working mind the second the words left his mouth, her call a demand as much as a plea.

Returning her frightened countenance to the reclining saleswoman, still naked with the flushed signs of her recent climax still present, Sam's fearful blue eyes were moist with concern about a shocking pregnancy and its impact on her relationship with her loving wife, Betsy.

"Huh? How? What do you mean? Mr. Allenby said he doesn't have anything for douching," the naïve bride mumbled, offering her sympathy but not comprehending a solution. "I'm sorry, but what am I supposed to do?"

"Clean it out of me, Marg. Please, I can't get pregnant. I just can't!" Sam exclaimed with alarm, mistakenly thinking the obtuse woman might astutely connect the dots.

Hank and Brad sat aside the quibbling pair enjoying the amusing back and forth as Sam explained what she needed, and needed quickly, before Hank's wiggling sperm found their target.

"Do you have a washcloth somewhere, Mr. Allenby?" Marg asked ignorantly.

"Jeeez, Marg, you're smarter than that! A washcloth isn't gonna help. Scoop it out of me," my exasperated sister-in-law decried, needing Marg's help badly and not wanting to berate the illogical sex toy too harshly.

"With my hand?" the perplexed Danish-American beauty replied quizzically with unintended humor.

"No, sweetie, not with your hand. With your tongue. Do for me what I did for you just a little while ago," Sam said openly, since she didn't seem to be getting through the puzzled mind of her companion any other way.

"Lick it out of me, sweetie. Use your tongue and scoop it out," Betsy's disbelieving wife pleaded, growing more worried as every second passed.

"I think she's asking you to eat her pussy, Marg," Hank interjected with smarmy delight. "You know, suck my cum out with your tongue."

"Ohhh nooooo, I can't, uhh, do that. That's, um, gross," the naked beauty gagged, shaking her head vigorously at the immoral request and unintentionally sending her big tits swaying in rhythm, much to the men's delight.

"Damn it, Marg, I did it for you. Don't tell me you didn't love it. I saw you cum," Sam quavered, her voice faltering under her duress before catching herself, and asking instead of begging.

"I need you to do this for me, Marg," she appealed in a sincere tone. "Please, oh please, do it? If I get pregnant, I'll never be able to explain it to my wife."

Hank knew inside that wasn't really the case, considering Betsy's similar situation of servitude, but it was a useful perception by my teary sister-in-law, so he let it stand.

Sam's request of the unnerved saleswoman was in Hank's best interest, after all, on top of which, he figured Brad might enjoy another Sapphic exhibition as the sheltered former college cheerleader labored eating his father's cum from the terrified lesbian consultant's fouled cunt.

To that end, Hank added the force of his authority to Sam's beckoning pleas, making it clear they were more than mere requests, and pushing Marg to perform the act whether she wanted to or not. Besides, he really didn't want Sam to get knocked-up.

"C'mon Margrethe, help a girl out. Eat her pussy and slurp up my nasty spunk," he urged in the most unpleasant terms possible, employing her full first name placing emphasis on the importance of his demand.

Hank's intervention placed him in an odd juxtaposition to Sam as both savior and villain, at least when considering it was his cum threatening her with natural motherhood after the unexpected sexual intercourse.

"O-okay," Marg replied complacently, realizing the weight carried by Hank's words.

"Oh, thank god!" Sam cheered her relief. "It'll be okay, sweetie. I'll help you along, umm, tell you what to do."

With that uncomfortable assurance, my anxious sister-in-law dropped gratefully to the sofa, kicking her thong panty from her feet, and lifting her skirt revealing a bald and decidedly messy twat, before widely parting her legs providing greater access to the sullied crease.

"Please, hurry! It's been too long already," she begged urgently again.

Marg hated the very thought of what she was asked -- no, told to do.

It was hard enough reconciling that the older woman ate her own pussy, but at least then she played passive victim. This was a much more affirmative act, not that it mattered, because she didn't want to cross Hank.

Marg did truly feel sympathy for the genuinely terrified strawberry-blonde lesbian spreading her legs on the sofa, so uncertainly she roused herself from the cushion and dropped to her knees between Sam's limber thighs, mimicking her lanky partner's position of less than a half hour ago.

Lean and stretched so far the tendons strained pulling the skin taut, and in doing so, lewdly exposing the overflowing semen spilling from the interior of her dark fuck channel, Sam's puffy labia gaped easily in anticipation of the probing tongue of the nervous bride.

"There's no time for a slow introduction, Marg. Just curl your tongue, slip it in my vagina, and get as much cum out as fast as you can," Sam advised her reticent heroine.

The noxious instruction nearly made Marg retch and fighting to keep the bile from her throat while wavering with revulsion, she balked, shaking her head vigorously.

"C'mon, Marg, it's just cum. Hank's cum. I'm sure you've tasted it before," Sam chided the faltering lass, not knowing but also not caring if the statement was true or not. "Just use your tongue and scoop it out. It'll be gone before you know it."

Even pre-occupied with the dire need to scour her feminine chamber of her new master's offending ejaculate, Sam's thoughts unavoidably drifted to the erotic image of the beautiful but oh-so innocent young wife dipping her tongue deeply into her nasty, cum-saturated pussy.

It was a dream come true, and Sam stole the briefest moment to admire the pale skin, round face, and cute short brunette locks of her savior, with Marg's cerulean eyes darting about nervously and her expressive frown signaling her stark discomfort undertaking the deplorable act.