Princex

I know what always happens next. Dad stomps into my room, door slamming against the wall as he opens it, undoing his belt with the other hand.

He shoves me down onto the bed, taking the clothes off of my thrashing body. Sometimes, when I cry too loudly for his taste he'd shove my underwear into my mouth.

Eventually, I would become too tired to fight it. Just laying there and taking his cock we he bullies it into me, crying softly.

He only stops when he cums inside of my little, worn out, cunt. He leaves me alone to cry, and hug my stuffed animals for comfort.

“Don’t worry bubs it’s okay, just hold onto your stuffie yeah? M’ almost done….”

Basically just dad and big bro frotting and using my holes at the same time

Waking from a dead sleep to the feeling of a thick finger pushing its way into your cunt. Exploring you casually. A lazy thrust in and out to spread your wetness. And then just resting there, tucked inside you.

Your heart is racing as you lie there in the dark, not daring to make a sound or complaint.

Please no. Please. Not tonight. Maybe he will decide not to this time? I'm so tired. This is the third night this week. Maybe this time will be different and he’ll leave me be. Maybe he's just touching. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep...?

A few minutes seem to stretch out to ages as you anxiously wait in the quiet of the bedroom. Finally, he pulls his hand away. The room is still. Your body relaxes in relief. Thank god.

Then: a shuffle of blankets and his hand gripping your hip. Your pulse rushes in your ears as you feel the hardened head of his cock press against your entrance. Insistent. Expectant. It's met with tight resistance of your unready body. You can feel it throb against your warmth. Resistance is not going to stop him.

Your eyes squeeze shut in dismay. You have to let it happen. He just wants to get off before he goes to sleep. It will be over soon. Then you can go to sleep.

“Sometimes… I don’t feel like it’s even my body anymore,” she says into the pillow.

“Aw, darlin,” he says, leaning in close. He rubs her back. “It’s not.”

“It…”

“No,” he says. He grips her neck. “This is mine.”

She groans. He tightens his hold. His teeth nip at her cheek, her ear. He squeezes her breast, shakes it. Pinches her nipples. Whispers as he bites and hurts — mine. His hands roam beneath the sheets, pushing her legs apart.

“You see?” he says, “Your body knows whose it is.”

She shakes.

“You get all confused, baby.”

“Ok… I guess I —”

“Shh.”

“But…”

He taps her lips. “Shh. My mouth. It won’t speak today. No words at all.”

He pulls out his cock, soft, and motions me over to the couch. I match the last pair of socks and sigh inwardly -- to him, I smile.

"You mind?" he asks. "Just 'til the game is over."

I glance at the tv. Second quarter.

"I... how long is that?" I ask. "I was going to finish my chores and read for a few minutes..."

"An hour or two. But if reading is more important than our relationship--"

"No, it's fine," I say. "I'm sorry."

I take his cock in my mouth, my nose pressed close to his belly. He settles back, breathing out a long sigh.

"I'm so glad you're into this," he says. He turns up the game. He takes a drink. "It's incredibly relaxing."

"Mmphf."

"Little deeper, please. That's perfect."

He calls his friend, talks about hitting some balls at the range. Ice cubes clink in his glass. He laughs about something on his phone. The minutes crawl. My jaw aches. I cannot imagine how -- how -- he can get hard again but inevitably he does.