Chapter 2: Revelations

What the hell?

I looked round. Becky’s face was red. Still defiant, but she’d been caught.

We all watched and listened as the girl was stroked and fondled by a hand; a feminine hand with long, slender fingers like Becky’s. Then the back of a head came into shot, a head of thick blonde short hair, and pushed between the girl’s open thighs. The girl was lovely, pretty and slender, and just developed by the look of it, like Yvonne but a little taller and with bigger tits.

We watched the video to the end - about ten minutes. The girl didn’t cum, didn’t even get wet or aroused. She pleaded and cried and that was all. Then the video stopped.

I ran the next video in the folder. It was a different girl, shorter, darker and more muscley, but the same setting and same outcome: complaints and no arousal.

I ran the third video. It was Yvonne, in the same situation. By now I was dreading what I was going to see.

The slender fingers started stroking over her clit, and her pleading was interrupted by a gasp. As the fingers stroked over her exposed labia the complaints stopped altogether, then the gasping turned to moans as the head of her attacker lowered into her crotch.

When the head was removed, Yvonne’s clit was sticking out, dark pink and aroused, above the plump labia. The fingers dipped into her pussy and came out glistening with juice. The thumb dipped in, came out wet, and then the thumb and forefinger closed over the erect clitoris. Yvonne bucked, lifting her pelvis off the bench.

The filming continued inexorably as the hand worked over my daughter’s pussy and clit, now visibly soaking wet and distended. She was moaning sexily, in ecstasy.

The picture shook about but kept Yvonne in shot as the head of blonde hair lowered again - evidently Becky was holding her phone up in one hand as she ate her young victim. Yvonne’s moaning increased, then turned to a wild gasping and the blonde hair rose up, propelled by the pelvis under it. Yvonne was cumming, hard.

After perhaps twenty seconds the head removed itself and the camera moved in for a closeup of the wet, distended pussy, then scanned up to Yvonne’s beautiful face looking freshly fucked, flushed and excited, yet scared, all at once, before pulling back to show her whole slender, splayed, ravished body, still trembling slightly and with the odd jerky aftershock.

No wonder Yvonne had done anything to prevent that being put on the web. I stood up and went over to the bed. Both girls were staring at my cock, which was waving around at forty-five degrees, but I was past caring at that moment. I untied Yvonne’s other ankle.

“Thank you Daddy,” she said, shamefaced but hopeful, expecting me to go and untie her hands, but I took the pink bondage rope over to Becky, fought her kicking legs and tied her ankles with it. Then I went to get a screwdriver and some long screws to repair the lock with, and to try and collect my thoughts. And get a memory stick.

When I came back in I was struck afresh by the sheer sexuality of the situation. The room seemed full of tied-up naked girls; one twenty-two, one fourteen, each delectably perfect. Both sexy. Neither of them as innocent as they seemed?

I fixed the lock and transferred the video files onto my memory stick, then deleted them from Becky’s laptop and cleared her recyle bin. I went over to her.

“Who are those other girls?” I asked. “What sort of state did you leave them in?”

Becky said nothing, not even looking at me. Yvonne answered though: “They’re my friends, Jilly and Sue. From the aerobics class. That’s what we were doing, with Becky, she’s the instructor.”

That was news to me, but it made sense. The phrase “sexual predator” came into my mind. I started to feel some sense of direction.

“Right!” I said to both of them, “you’re going to bring them here and we’ll try and make it right with them. You’re going to explain, Becky, that you were utterly selfish and weak and it was all your fault not theirs, and it’s never going to happen again. We’re going to tell them the videos are gone and will never be used against them. I’m sure they were scared by them even though they didn’t respond to what you did to them.”

I went and stood over Becky, still getting no reaction. Suddenly my anger returned. She was bewitching, but a bitch. Or something. Emotional in a way I didn’t understand, but anyway I wasn’t going to put up with it. Confronting her with her wrongdoing and still being defied like this.

The ravishing, sexy bitch. Literally! Coming into my house and dominating my daughter and raping her friends. I wasn’t going to have my Vonnie in court with this though: being challenged by the defence lawyer and called a liar and lesbian bondage fantasist or whatever - the police were not an option.

“Okay Becky,” I said, “this one’s for Jilly.”

“Nooo,” she was suddenly willing to speak again, “I’m sorry! I couldn’t help myself!’

“Maybe a third lesson will teach you,” I said. “A bit of suffering might give you a bit of sensitivity. Not that you seemed to suffer so very much last time.” I rolled her over onto her front.

I untied her ankles and wrestled with her flailing legs again, until she tired and I was able to hold them bent up to her ass ... her gorgeous firm, smooth ass, with a bit of a tan. I tied one ankle to one wrist, then untied the rope between her two wrists. I had to hang on for a couple of minutes while she fought to get the second wrist free, then I managed to tie it to the other ankle. I forced her over onto her back.

I pushed her knees apart, and there she was, defenceless.

Normally it would have been quite clear to me that forcing a girl to punish her for forcing a girl was absurd and wrong - indefensible. I can only say my mind was not working properly. The sexuality in that room was completely off the scale, and I am highly sexed, I have to admit.

I was half in control of myself, that’s all; the other half of me was in the control of my rampant cock. It’s not an excuse, I know. Eventually, later, I sought redemption, that’s all I can say.

Anyway, I ran a finger along Becky’s slit and up to her clit. She was wet. Freshly wet, I thought. She moaned. “You bastard, you fucking bastard. I’m not here so you can fuck me with your fucking cock, UUUuurrggghhhh.” I had entered her. I wasn’t hanging around, I needed to cum, for the third time. That’s how extreme the situation was.

She was easy to enter. I sank my big cock in to the hilt in one slow, scintillating thrust. Wow, she felt fabulous. Still tight, still creamy, and still pulsating.

She kept looking over at Yvonne, who was still tied to the headboard, naked and looking like a pervert’s wet dream: young, slender and vulnerable, yet with her pert tits, tiny waist and little bush. And she in turn was looking intently at me and Becky.

I started to fuck. I gazed down at the stunning face, her perfect complexion - a blonde complexion with a light tan, some freckles - her blue-grey eyes, strong eyelashes, small nose and big cheekbones. She glared back at me.

Luckily for me her pussy had no deceit, it was totally aroused and not trying to hide it. I’d never felt a pussy like it. It was so strong, so reactive, giving my cock a working over as it squeezed and pulsed around it. When I banged into her vulva at the bottom of each stroke I could feel a jolt of sensation rip through her, her fit body getting ready to orgasm already. God.

I speeded up, not trying to prolong things. I fucked the sexy girl faster and faster, harder and harder. I grabbed her shoulder as her body started to slide up the bed. I felt her tense.

“AaaahhhUrrhhhhhh” she groaned as the orgasm surged through her, gripped her, and took her over. She went rigid under me, tense but shuddering, and my cock felt the clasping convulsions, released the intense pressure and started spurting. I was cumming; cumming once more, into her potent, spasming pussy that was helplessly harvesting more of my sperm.

I came and came, on and on and on; and so did Becky. The beguiling bitch.

I eased my slowly deflating cock out of her and stood up, trying to collect my thoughts again and get a grip on the situation. There were several issues whirling round in my mind, all muddled up.

Somewhere in town there were two friends of my daughter Yvonne, about fourteen years old, who must need help or therapy or something because Becky had raped them in the leisure centre changing room, at the end of teaching their aerobics classes - where they’d made friends with Yvonne.

Becky had tied them to a bench, stripped them, and filmed them while trying to get them off.

It was all completely premeditated, as far as I could see. Jilly and Sue hadn’t been aroused by the fingering and eating of their pussies, so Becky had given up with them, but it must have been traumatic even so.

Then there was my lovely daughter Yvonne, who had been aroused, in that same situation; in fact been forced to orgasm, and had been more or less enslaved by Becky ever since. Had been blackmailed with her video and reduced to being a submissive lesbian, with Becky tying her up and fucking her with a vibrator, often several times a day.

This had been going on for several weeks - probably since the start of the school holidays when they’d been alone together the whole working week. I felt terrible that I’d let it happen.

Meanwhile right now Yvonne was still nude and tied to the headboard here in Becky’s room, pretty much just as I’d found her less than an hour before. She was traumatised with guilt, over her response to the assaults and the way she’d orgasmed so hard and so easily. Now here she was naked, tied up, with me here in the room.