Chapter 2

“Smart guy ... Good news, your fate is the same as your wife’s,” Dad told me, shocking all of us.

“Wait, I thought that you said that I wasn’t to be harmed,” I pointed out, even as Dad gestured to Karen.

“Yeah, well, I said that you wouldn’t be shot,” Dad pointed out, “I said nothing about rape.”

“Umm ... could you at least use some lube,” I asked Dad, making him chuckle.

“I’m not gonna do it, son! I have no interest in guys! Karen’s gonna fuck you! Right in front of your wife, while I have my way with Kathy,” Dad corrected me, oddly causing me some relief.

“My stepsister?” I gulped a bit as Karen removed my pants, grinning as she saw her prize.

“Yeah, she wants to compare ... packages,” Dad guffawed as he ripped off Kathy’s clothes and began plowing her in front of everyone.

“Bro, I’m gonna so fucking love this!” Karen told me excitedly as she climbed onto my cock and took me balls deep in just a few easy strokes.

“Why ... Dad ... Karen ... Aunt Myra?” I asked them for the record.

“Because this night exists for a reason, to let us Purge. And so Purge we shall. Karen’s wanted to rape you for a good while. Now she can. She was gonna do that, no matter what you chose, in case you wondered. Myra wanted Jason killed and tortured, and now he was. And I ... I can have my revenge on your mother!

“Karen was never gonna shoot you ... I think. Your seed is far too useful to her ... and your dick ... alive. Leslie, my dear, I think that your daughter has the hots for my son!” Dad laughed as he continued to rape Kathy in front of me and Karen had her way with me.

In spite of it being rape, I had to confess that having a gorgeous ginger like Karen ride me had its upsides. The harder she rode me, in fact, the stiffer I was. It was rape, but it didn’t feel like it after a little while, not to my hard cock that didn’t seem to mind. Once her breasts were free of their textile captivity, too, it was even tougher to resist the urge to just give in and enjoy being taken by the evil bitch. At least she desired me physically, unlike Kathy, my own wife.

“Alright, baby, here we go! Cum inside me ... cum inside your own sister!” Karen laughed wickedly and added, “by the way, I douched out any traces of Dad. And I just flushed my pills an hour ago. If we continue at this rate, sooner or later, you’ll be a Daddy yourself.”

I couldn’t help but explode inside my stepsister as my body and mind both reacted fiercely, instinctively, to the prospect of knocking Karen up. She licked her lips, rose from atop me, and kissed me hungrily on the mouth ... with tongue. Lots of tongue, in fact. Her rather splendid tits waved at me as well, making it tougher to soften up just yet. Just then, of course, I heard Dad grunt and groan as he spilled his seed inside Kathy. Like it or not, both of us had gotten some strange, though I still suspected that she cheated on me...

Well, I never wanted monogamy, but she conned me into it ... only to violate her own pact. Other than the rape factor, I wouldn’t lose too much sleep on getting some booty from Karen, evil as she was. Kathy was evil, too, after all. I still saw nothing but divorce court in our future, but I had to admit to myself that I felt a good bit of empathy toward my wife now. Bad seed though she was, she was still a human being and had her autonomy coerced just like mine. She might have had some pleasure in the act, just like me, but it still had to sting a bit.

“Well, we’re not done yet, of course! Far from it! What did you cook up for dinner, son?” Dad asked me now, still very much threatening our lives between Karen, Aunt Myra, and himself.

“Fish and chips,” I told him curtly.

“That sounds like it’s done now. Take it out and serve it to us. What’s to drink?” Dad demanded.

“Beer,” I replied in the same short tone.

“Now, look here, son. I didn’t do you any real harm. I hurt your wife more than you. Let’s not ... bicker too much. Let’s eat up! And drink up. Oh, and Karen, now’s the time,” Dad winked at my stepsister, who licked her lips as she ground up some blue pill of some kind and dropped it in my beer.

“Drink,” Aunt Myra demanded, the same bloody knife in her hand that was used to castrate her late hubby.