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  • House Arrest Ch. 09

House Arrest Ch. 09

12

Mike and Sandra Malone, their two gorgeous daughters, and their youngest daughter's best friend all huddled together in the shelter of the trees. The ridge ahead made progress ahead difficult, especially since they were all naked and Mike was still restrained by cuffs and shackles. Sandra was nearly hysterical, her chest heaving and sweat slick across her breasts.

"Sandra, I need you to calm down! Focus!" Mike urged. They could still hear gunshots in the distance, but they were becoming more sporadic. Whoever was firing at whom, a clear winner was definitely emerging. They didn't have much time - not that they'd had much time before.

"Take the girls and go. I mean it, Sandra."

When Sandra hesitated Mike looked at his beautiful wife with imploring eyes, fervently wishing he could put a hand against her cheek to give her comfort. Yet his hands were still cuffed behind his back and shackles chained his ankles so that he could hobble but not truly walk or run. "Look at me, Sandra. I'll just slow you down. Keep the girls SAFE. Do you hear me? That's what matters. That's all that matters."

The determination in Mike's eyes helped steady her, and Sandra finally nodded, biting her lip as her eyes scalded with suppressed tears.

She leaned forward, kissing him voraciously, as if it would be the last time they'd see each other. "Take care of yourself," she whispered. Then, after giving Avril and Peyton a chance to hug their father goodbye, Sandra led both tearful daughters and Katalina deeper into the relative safety of the woods. The unknown dangers of the wilderness were a lesser evil, as far as Mike was concerned. His family could at least find the winding road that paralleled the woods and follow it to a more substantial highway, then maybe get help. Hope flared in his chest for the first time, and it gave him the courage to do something reckless.

If he gave himself up, would he be able to distract the tormentors and help his family escape? That was his vague purpose as he lurched back towards the house. Slowly, stumbling with his hands still frustratingly useless, Mike emerged from the tangle of woods and brush. Maybe if the Sheikhs and their enemies had by some miracle shot each other to death, he could find the keys to his cuffs and shackles. It didn't hurt to hope, did it?

What he found instead was at first chilling and then...appallingly erotic, at least to the baser instincts inside of him.

The house seemed deathly quiet, at first. He saw two large vans spray-painted with camo-colors, all browns, greens, and dark beige hues. The vans hadn't been there when they'd fled the house. He'd have heard them. The front door to the ranch-style house was wide open. He hobbled through, shocked at what he saw. Several men had been gunned down - by the looks of them all members of the Sheikh's team of bodyguards. Mike began to have hope that somehow, some way, perhaps the criminals had all murdered each other.

But his hopes sank when he reached the top of the landing and slowly crept around the corner. He was staring into a bedroom, and the sight made his blood initially run cold. It was the bedroom where he and his family had all been tormented. The murals in gold and silver wove one intricate scene after the next along the ceiling, and the chandeliers threw sparkles of light like diamonds throughout the bed chamber.

He saw Jameela, the young Arab mistress who had tormented him and forced him to pleasure his poor daughter Avril with the tip of the vibrator strapped to his mouth. Mike's loathing toward her vied with undeniable sexual attraction.

There were two young black men in the room with her, and a third dark-skinned man who Mike recognized. Mike couldn't remember Mick's name, but he recognized the man's merciless face easily enough.

Mick sighed, a riding crop twirling between his fingers as his two young protégés held their prisoner between them sitting on the plush comforter of the bed. Jameela's nakedness was a lush, sensual feast to the eyes. Her breasts were supple, ample, and complemented by a smooth, sexy belly above lean but still noticeably curved hips. The Arab girl's smoldering, rich brown eyes were filled with defiance as she glared at Mick.

"I will tell you nothing, impudent scum!" she said.

Mick growled, "Yes you will, little cunt. Just because your Sheikh daddy and his partner made it to the safe room in the nick of time doesn't mean I'm giving up. You're going to tell me the code to the security system to open that door - and you're going to do it soon. My patience is almost gone." Mick smacked the riding crop against Jameela's exposed pussy lips, ripping a low whimper from her throat as his free hand roughly tweaked her nipples and then cupped one of her breasts.

"Talk, slut. Tell me the code," Mick warned.

Mike couldn't believe he was watching this. It was as if his feet were somehow rooted into the floor. He knew he should run, but something inexplicable held him fast. Just then a young, lithe black woman sauntered into view.

Mike had never seen a girl so beautiful in his life - at least not of the dark-skinned variety. The girl was completely naked except for the swooping phoenix tattoo that wrapped around her left leg. The chocolate hue of her smooth skin and her shapely ass made Mike's dick firm up. The husband and father's cheeks colored with shame.

'What's wrong with me?' he wondered, even as he stood still and did nothing. He watched, tantalized as the black girl made a disappointed clucking sound and seemed to be looking the Arab girl up and down, sizing her up like a piece of meat.

"Uncle Mick...you gotta be more diplomatic," Keisha purred. "Sometimes the carrot works a lot better than the stick. Doesn't it, sweetie?" As the black hottie said these words she knelt between Jameela's legs, her fingers finding and gently stroking the captive woman's sensitive clit. Jameela's sharp intake of breath practically echoed in the bed chamber as Keisha began stroking the girl's clitoris with a firm, even rhythm.

"Do you like this, slut? Hmm? Is this better than having your pink pussy lips slapped by Uncle Mick's mean, nasty riding crop?" As Keisha continued to purr with more such seductive questions, she leaned in toward the captive, fingering Jameela more intimately. Her beautifully-chiseled nose and face dipped towards Jameela's left breast, suckling on it ever so delicately. Soon Jameela's moan was amplified by the gentle squelchy sounds of gathering liquid, Keisha's fingers thrusting like tiny cocks into Jameela's now moist pussy.

Keisha languidly moved her mouth to Jameela's other tit, giving it the same treatment, flicking her tongue against the nipple before capturing it in her mouth. Between sucks the young black dominatrix sighed, "MMmm...you taste good, you little Arab whore. I was looking forward to taking the two blonde bitches as my personal slaves, but you might be a good consolation prize if Uncle Mick's boys aren't able to track them down in the woods."

That last statement flash froze Mike's blood. 'Sandra, run like you've never run before. Get our girls free!' Mike thought. He began to wrack his brain for a diversion he could provide, anything that might attract the men who were out there looking for his family to come back to the house.

Mike's eyes had clouded over for just a split second while lost in thought, but that seemed all it took to be caught unawares. Suddenly he realized that the exquisitely gorgeous and naked black girl had strayed from giving Jameela her attentions. She'd sensed his presence, stepping to the door with a gun now pointed in his face. Her keen eyes narrowed slyly at him.

"What's the matter, Mr. Malone? You enjoying our little show just a bit too much, yeah? Why don't you step in and JOIN the party," Keisha said, her eyes as hungry as a tigress after a famine.

Suddenly Mike found himself being yanked into the bedroom and pushed onto his back on the bed. Without further preamble the black dominatrix straddled him, the pistol still clutched in one fist as she stroked his cock with her free hand, admiring the tall, hardened girth of his penis which responded instinctually to the sight of her feminine beauty.

"Oh my, you old, dirty white man. You're old enough to be my father, ya know? I'm the age of your youngest daughter, you sick bastard." She pushed the gun into his temple and slowly positioned her labia around the bulbous head of his penis, then gently sheathed his cock with a long, glorious plunge until her pussy had engulfed every inch of his cock.

This had gone from a surreal experience to something truly bizarre. The feel of Keisha's damp heat enclosing him was like a heavenly fist bombarding him with delicious sensation. Yet at the same time the husband and father was all too aware of the gun pressed into his forehead, and of the uncertain fate of his family. He groaned - a hopeless mix of agony and pleasure - and his whole body tensed as Keisha quickly established a rhythm, sliding her young pussy up and down his cock, making the bed shake with the force of her none-too-gentle fucks.

"You gonna tell me where your family's hiding, Mr. Malone? I suggest talking. Or do you think a bullet to the head's going to make you any smarter?" she said viciously, her pussy slamming down to grip his cock once more. He groaned, the cuffs digging into his wrists even as his engorged cock strained with need and gathering desire.

"Please, this is sick. I...they're gone. They fled. I don't know where they are, even if I was willing to tell you," he sputtered.

Keisha put the gun reluctantly aside, her hands seductively stroking Mike's chest as she continued to slurp his cock up between her pussy lips. "Is that so, old man? Hmm. What do you think, Uncle Mick? Is Mr. Malone telling the truth?"

Mick walked around to the side, giving Mike a cold, hard stare as his niece continued to rape the stricken man. Mick rubbed his chin thoughtfully, took his riding crop and slammed it hard across Mike's chest. Mike writhed and groaned, but the pleasure of Keisha's pussy still more than made up for the lingering sting from the painful swat. Keisha continued to grind on top of him, her body melding perfectly to his as his cock became her plaything to ride as she saw fit.

The chocolate-toned sex-goddess leaned back, fondling Mike's testicles with one hand even as she continued to control the rhythm of their coupling. "You better talk soon, Mr. Malone. I don't think Uncle Mick's the gentle or understanding type. He promised me Avril and Peyton as my early birthday presents. Good blonde sex slaves are so hard to find after all, and I went to school with your daughters. I still owe them for what they did to me."

Mike's brain tried to process what Keisha had just said. The twisted dominatrix girl who was riding his cock like she owned it somehow knew his daughters? From school? He tried to think. Did the name Keisha ring any bells? Had Avril or Peyton ever had friends over who'd mentioned that name? Talked of mean girls giving them a tough time in class? He couldn't think straight though, not in the midst of this appalling ordeal, and especially not with Keisha's breasts jiggling up and down, her pussy slurping up his cock like it was the best vibrator ever invented as she moaned, fondling herself.

"OOoohhh, DAMN, old man. Your cock's still nice and hard for me," Keisha crooned, her hands raking across his chest before she cupped her own breasts. "Let this little mama get a good, long ride out of that hard fuck-stick of yours. Mmmm. If you don't start talking, it'll be the last pussy your cock ever tastes."

Mike squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that this nightmare could somehow end even as he knew it was all too real. But he clung to this one hope. His wife and daughters weren't here trapped in this madness with him. They might get free yet. They might be lucky and find someone willing to actually help.

Even as Mike tried to focus on these tenuous threads of promise he felt Keisha lean over him, her breath soft and hot against his face. "Open your eyes, old man. I want to see your eyes when I make you come." Mike's eyes flashed open as Keisha's pert buttocks began to bounce up and down with wild abandon, impaling her cunt hard as gravity would allow on his throbbing cock. Mike's groans and grunts deepened, matching the rhythmic grunts of the female fucking herself with his cock being used so degradingly, almost like a rubberized phallus on a pedestal, with no care whatsoever for his feelings or the violation of his most intimate sexual part.

He looked up into Keisha's eyes and saw nothing but lust, cruelty, and the drive to dominate. The ferocity of sex as total control morphed the black girl's beautiful face into a feral yet still hauntingly gorgeous canvas of ecstasy. The black girl moaned and shouted, "Come in me, you worthless old slave! Spew that old-man cum in my little, tight cunt. I want to feel you warm up my insides. Do it now!" she growled. Taking the riding crop from her Uncle's hand, Keisha slammed it across his shoulder, the rhythm of each SMACK matching each lunge of her pussy enfolding his cock. Finally he lost it, couldn't hold on, not even if the entire universe had begged him to.

Mike groaned in surrender, his cock twitching its throes of surrender, emptying his seed into the young dominatrix's twat.

"AAAHHHH...MMm...you sick old fuck," Keisha growled, her pussy slowly lifting off of Mike's wilting member as strings of spent cum oozed from her now-tainted sex.

"Did I tell you that you could get me all messy?"

"Please! I did what you asked!" he cried. "I came in your pussy!"

"That doesn't mean you can get me all messy with no punishment, dumbass slave," Keisha hissed. Her eyes danced with mirth though, telling Mike that no matter what he did, she'd find an excuse to punish him for it. It was all part of the twisted dominatrix's game. A game he couldn't win.

Mike groaned as a vibrator was thrust into his mouth, then roughly strapped tightly to his jaw. He saw Keisha look back over to Jameela and say tauntingly, "I hope you don't mind if we borrow one of your toys, Arab slut. Mr. Malone needs to learn a valuable lesson." Mike tried to cry out for mercy through the base of the vibrating cock which was stuffed much like a gag into his mouth. Instead he watched with horror as Keisha lowered her cum-seeping pussy on top of the dildo, slamming her cunt up and down the buzzing shaft with coos of delight. Even as she mounted the poor man's face, he could see the strands of his own cum slip in gooey tendrils down the sides of the chrome shaft until he almost tasted his own seed.

Mike was too absorbed in his own personal nightmare to notice Jameela's predicament. Watching his niece fuck the captured father nearly senseless and then stuff his face with pussy had made Mick's cock take on a life of its own. He turned to Malik and Rafiq, the two young black men, and said in a hard tone, "Lay that Arab slut on the bed next to my niece, and tie her wrists tight to the headboard. There's going to be some screaming."

"Please, what are you doing?" Jameela gasped. "You don't need to do this. I'll fuck you so good, if you just leave my father in peace. My father is a great Sheikh, very rich. He will give you money if you just fuck me hard and then let me go," Jameela begged.

"Does it look like I need more money?" Mick sneered. He slapped the girl across the face - just hard enough to sting the cheek but not hard enough to do any actual damage. Selling a fine pussy like this Arab filly meant that she was priceless merchandise - to be trained, and not harmed. He spread her golden-tinted, sexy Arab thighs and looked with reverence at her exposed snatch. Her delicate labia seemed to scream for his cock to plunge between them, silently begging to be thoroughly fucked.

"Any last requests?" he said, with a chuckle. Even as he said those words, though, the stocky black man was putting on a thin condom covered with sharp, rubbery spikes. This was a special condom he'd made just for these occasions - a condom designed to provide tormenting levels of stimulation to the female partner.

Jameela's eyes went wide as she realized what was in store. Malik and Rafiq had just finished tying her hands to the headboard, and now they stood back to watch their boss consummate his threat.

"Last chance, bitch. What is the code to Daddy's safe room?" When Jameela shook her head defiantly, spitting in Mick's face, the unruffled black man replied with a cold grin and lined up his throbbing manhood between her legs.

"If that's the way you want it, bitch. I'm going to make sure you feel me. Every last INCH," he growled, thrusting his hips forward as his cock lanced deep into her snatch. Jameela's back arched, a cry of shock erupting from her pretty mouth as she felt the overwhelming sensation of that spike-covered cock ramming into her already well-fucked pussy. For this was a different kind of beast than her earlier coupling with Mike, where Jameela had been the one in control.

Now the Arab mistress was helpless, her slender body writhing underneath a black man at least twice her weight. His body pressed her into the bed, crushing her as she fought for breath and felt her breasts squeezed underneath Mick's seesawing chest. His pelvis rocketed forward again and again and again, dominating her without mercy, violating her pussy with rough, brutal penetrations that left her breathless yet feeling never more alive.

Jameela's grunts were like the chorus to a symphony of sex, soon overshadowed and drowned out by Mick's louder grunts and thrusts. "Take my long, hard cock, you little Arab bitch. You'll be lucky not to have a big brat swelling in your belly by the time I sell you to a buyer willing to pay top dollar," he shouted.

Meanwhile Jameela's hands clenched, her pussy creaming up under Mick's assaults. The Arab girl was no stranger to the eroticism of being dominated like this. Some of her Arab boyfriends liked to play rough in the bedroom with whips and chains. Sometimes it pleased Jameela to not always play the role of dominator, and to experience the heady sexual tension and release of the submissive role. This, though, was like nothing she'd experienced before.

This was role-play without the safety net. It was skydiving without a parachute. This man above her, he had her captive, truly his prisoner. She was as good as his fuck-slave, her pussy OWNED by him unless her father and Sheikh Aziz could somehow contact one of their associates to rescue her. The very thought aroused her like nothing else. Her pussy dripped at the very notion, her breasts topped with hardened little pink buds that screamed 'Yes, you bastard! Fuck my pussy raw!'

The captive girl's reaction surprised Mick, and in response the black man strove to fuck her more mightily, so much harder. His thick manhood was soon slamming into her with such force that the entire bed shook. Their furious coupling mirrored the ferocity of Keisha right beside them, who even now was still impaling her wet pussy on the vibrator strapped to Mike Malone's mouth. Mike's strangled, muffled cries were rhythmically stifled by the squelching plunge of Keisha's pussy onto the vibrator until her pussy lips kissed the outline of the tortured man's mouth.

It was a bizarre scene in a room filled now with the smells of sex. Two captives, one male and one female, each dominated by a member of the opposite sex.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Worthless whore! Take my seed, bitch. You don't want to give up the code? Fine. I'll have my brother sell your cute cunt and ass to the Russians," Mick swore. In the delirium of pleasure, Jameela was hardly aware of the black man's threat as her pussy convulsed with his cock deep inside her, coating it with her fragrant juices. The muscular captor kept pumping her hard, feeling the clench of her pussy around his manhood like a delicious vice made of velvet. Then he pulled out and rolled the condom off, spewing cum across her gorgeous face, painting her nose, lips and chin with thick, warm seed before rounding it off with a necklace of cum that ran from the nipple of one sexy breast to the other.

12
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