Chapter 2

Dad and daughter come home to find the idol.

18-year-old Penny Moore breezed through the front door of her family home and walked right past the fertility idol on her way to the kitchen in an apathetic daze that only the most self-absorbed of teenagers could pull off. The pretty brunette was so ensconced in her own little world that she didn’t hear her father give a puzzled grunt upon seeing the Egyptian statuette on the entryway table, nor his amazed gasp as he picked it up. She bent over to look into the open fridge, holding the door open, uncaring as she languidly perused the food there as if she might cool the whole downstairs of their house through her inaction. However, this left her fit, rounded ass in her tight yoga pants hanging out past the fridge door, which was the first thing her father saw as Hathor’s blessing filled his body with the need ... the need to breed.

Penny’s face was shoved into the top level of the fridge as her father rammed his crotch into her hips. “Whathefuuck!?” she screamed out as her head knocked over the milk and pushed the jar of pickles further back into the depths of the refrigerator. She tried to grab a hold of something to right herself, but then the plastic shelf cracked and collapsed, knocking everything on it, including her, onto the next shelf, which in turn bent her over even more. The milk splashed down upon her expensive high tops.

Bob Moore had taken the brunt of the erotic magical power that had filled Hathor’s idol when his son had bred his wife upstairs earlier. The higher processes of the man’s mind had been shut down so that he was not much more than a caveman in search of a cavewoman to mate with. It barely registered that he was now ripping his daughter’s high quality yoga pants away from her nubile body, and then her thong tore away as almost an afterthought.

Penny was still off balance, but as she continued to scream she managed to turn her head to see a madman behind her. No, it was her father that was mad! What had she done, and why was he punishing her like this?! “DAD?!” Then the second shelf of the fridge fell through, and she was bent in half, her bare bottom now in the perfect position.

Bob quickly pulled his pants down and rammed his incredibly hard cock between his daughter’s legs.

She felt something pokey bounce off of her vulva and continued to scream. Then she spied the pickle jar, which had somehow remained intact through all that. She grabbed it just as she felt that pokey thing press itself insistently at her vaginal opening and hurled it backwards.

“Aargh!” her father yelled, and then he was no longer holding her as she heard the jar smash to the ground. She pushed herself up and dove toward the front door.

“Ah ah ah...”

Penny found herself sprawling to the floor. She grimaced as her B-cup breasts squished upon impact with the hardwood of the house’s entryway. That had hurt! Turning, she saw a strange bald Middle Eastern man in a gray suit standing just outside of the kitchen, his leg extended. He had tripped her! She looked back toward the kitchen and saw her father, his pants around his ankles, shuffling toward her, his eye swelling up and an animalistic look on his face. As afraid as she was at this scenario, she couldn’t help but notice the sizable erection bobbing between her dad’s legs as he approached.

She shook her head to clear it and frantically looked around for a weapon. She saw a strange statuette on the floor and grabbed it, holding it upside down so that the heavy base would act like a small club. “Keep back, you...” She blinked, confused. “ ... youuu...” She felt a warmth rushing through her body, somehow coming from the idol. As it reached her head, she dropped the statuette and smiled at both men.

“Much better?” the dark-skinned intruder asked her. She nodded.

Then her father was upon her. She was so happy ... she wondered why she had run from him, her big, strong protector.

“Give your daughter a moment, Mr. Moore, so that you do not damage her,” the strange man said. “The human body can only produce so much lubrication at once, even with divine assistance.”

“Uh?” Bob grunted as he looked down at the nubile young woman. He watched her eagerly pull off her tight half-top and unfasten her bra to get completely naked, other than her high tops and the remains of the yoga pants hanging from her legs. His daughter’s nude form filled his eyes and he leapt upon her again, causing her to giggle in delight.

“Ow!” Penny cried out as her father deflowered her, but almost immediately she locked her legs behind his ass as the man thrust into her young body again and again. It was already feeling good for her.

The Middle Eastern man picked up the idol and placed it reverently back onto the entryway table, making sure its eyes were directed toward the coupling pair. With a nod, he headed back up the stairs.

Mrs. Iris Moore was now riding her son on her matrimonial bed, her D-cups, which now seemed even bigger under the effect of Hathor’s blessing, bobbled back and forth in time with her movements. Multiple inseminations dripped out of her well-used pussy as she continued to fuck her son. The twenty-year-old young man gazed up at her in adoration.

She looked up as the intruder, Armin, entered, this time without the idol. “What ... do you ... want ... with us?” she asked him in between thrusts. Then she frowned, slowed her movements, and dismounted her son to lie on her back, breathing heavily.

“Mom?” Rick asked, confused.

“It’s gone,” she breathed, smiling. “The urge is gone.”

“Then we have success,” the man smiled at her and walked over to the bed. “Lad, you should help your sister downstairs. I believe your father may not be fully up to the task.”

The naked young man was out the bedroom door in a flash. They could hear his feet clomp loudly down the stairs.

“Penny?” Iris tried to get up but her body rebelled. She had pushed it way beyond her normal fitness capability during the sexual encounter with her son. “No ... my daughter...”

Armin sat next to her. “Your husband and son will take good care of her.”

She looked up at him, unashamed at being naked in front of a stranger. He had already seen all of her, so what was the point? “You said ... success?”