Chapter 7: Slaughternight Eve

Ten days after Katrina's abortive attempt at escape, the Outhwaites were beginning to accept their fate. They were becoming resigned to being drudges by day and sex-slaves by night and, for that matter, any other time Ma Butcher or her sons wanted to satisfy some sexual whim.

Their diet of oatmeal and water, occasionally supplemented by scraps from the heavily laden plates of the Butcher's had much to do with the steady decline in the Outhwaites' morale. The real "killer", however, was the dwindling hope of escape and the certain knowledge, if by some chance they were to get away from Ma Butcher's pig-farm, the local Sheriff and his Deputy would help to drag them back.

While there is life, the saying goes, there is hope. Helen said to her step-daughter as they lay chained on the stained mattress of the big brass bed, "If we can keep them happy we can stay alive. If we can stay alive something will turn up. We've just got to survive."

Mark, always the weakest member of the family, was the most despondent. From the first he had been obliged to watch helplessly as the two Butcher boys fucked his wife and his daughter in ways he had previously seen only in X-rated movies or pictured in his darkest dreams. To his mortification, the sight of his womenfolk being used so, aroused him sexually, despite his making every effort to control himself. After witnessing the boys having 'fun' with Katrina and Helen, he would be so excited he would willingly obey Ma and fuck-to-order. He would finish by hating himself for the sexual satisfaction his big-breasted captor gave him, whether riding his rampant erections, sitting on his face, or restoring his libido with whip and dildo.

The second night of their captivity he had been forced to witness the anal rape of his wife. To his disgust, not only had she seemed to relish the Butcher boys' filthy assault, but she had joined in humiliating him. She had strapped on a dildo and sodomized him on the kitchen table.

The day of his daughter's return from Butchersville had been a particularly bad one for Mark Outhwaite. He had been left in the dungeon, naked and chained to the bed. The tall, thin, policeman who had brought Katrina back from Butchersville stayed in the room. The quietly-spoken officer carefully undressed except for his jackboots. He selected a short leather whip from the array on the dungeon wall, gave Mark a slashing cut across the buttocks and initiated a program of activity that left his victim sobbing and retching into the mattress.

The evening of that same day, Ma had led Mark upstairs to the room where Katrina and Helen were usually held overnight. Ma ordered his daughter to fellate him. Mark had been appalled by the incestuous suggestion, but Katrina's touch was so gentle and delicate, and her sweet pink lips so persuasive as they massaged his blue veined cock, that it was all he could do to restrain himself. He became convinced that Katrina was getting as much pleasure as she was giving him. Before Mark yielded to the temptation to cum in her mouth, Katrina was dragged backwards by the bearded Spike. Mark was forced to witness, yet again, the rape of his wife and daughter while, Katrina, in what he took to be a kindly gesture, held on to his penis and pumped him dry.

Mark's lot did not improve in the days that followed. Each morning he sat at the breakfast table and ate his oatmeal, in silence unless Ma asked a question. His tasks were invariably the filthiest in the piggery. At the end of each day he needed to be hosed down by one of the Butcher brothers or the mad mute, Pigboy. With the worst filth washed off he was allowed indoors to finish cleaning himself, in the dungeon shower room, before the evening meal.

After supper Ma would initiate some form of sexually oriented "entertainment". As she explained, "We got no TV and videos are crap. We like our porn to be hands-on and home-grown."

The day after Katrina's return, for example, she ordered Mark to describe exactly what Deputy Sherman had done to him in the dungeon the previous day. She questioned him in minute detail. When he hesitated before answering, Spike zapped him with a modified cattle-prod. Mark told all. Afterwards the boys mocked him. They gave him a lace trimmed apron to wear. On it Spike had written, "Pigs Fuck Me". He and Patrick thought it very funny.

After the post-supper "entertainment" the women prisoners were usually taken upstairs to the room with the big brass bed. Here they would be secured and left alone until one, or both, of the boys wanted to have "fun". Ma usually led Mark in to watch, knowing how horny it made him. On the night he wore his apron for the first time, the boy's "fun" started when Patrick asked Ma if she remembered, "what the stuck-up rich-bitch, with the piglet-ring in her cunt, had said she'd never do?"

Ma pretended to think, then "remembered". "Yeah, Barbie said she'd never go down on her stepdaughter, then fist her, or something like that. Hey, Patrick, I bet she will now."

"Do it!" growled Patrick. "Eat the little bitch, then fist her until I tell you to stop."

Reluctantly Helen obeyed. They had pandered to Patrick's desire to see some "Lezzy stuff" before, and Katrina had joined in the pretence. To the overweight pick-up-truck driver it was clearly a powerful turn-on. Helen remembered with distaste the lesbian pornography that littered Patrick's truck on the day of her abduction. Now, however, Helen was surprised at Katrina's immediate reaction to her gentle tonguing. The young woman gave a moan of sheer pleasure and arched her back. She wasn't pretending. She relished the tenderness shown by Helen and had shed all previously held inhibitions.

Katrina's action presented the teenager's swollen vagina to Helen's fingers. Stimulating Katrina's clitoris with her mouth, Helen slid two, then three fingers into the youngster's juicy slit. Katrina moaned with ecstasy. Helen made a cone of fingers and inserted the tips of all five into the writhing teenager. Then Helen eased her hand into the tight but accommodating space. A series of gentle thrusts brought Katrina to the verge of orgasm, when Patrick lost his cool and dragged Helen off the younger woman so he could, once again, satisfy his urge to rape.

The next night, for Ma's after-supper entertainment, Spike saton the kitchen table and impaled Helen from behind. Using her breasts as hand-grips, he bounced her slowly up and down. Mark watched his wife writhe in pain and humiliation at being so used and displayed. To his shame felt his erection grow, making a low tent of his apron.

"Go sit on your Daddy's lap, kid," ordered Ma. "Like you did on the first night we had you stay."

Katrina was not slow to obey. Her backside was still livid with the stripes inflicted by Sheriff Jansen and she knew Ma and Patrick took perverse pleasure in finding an excuse to spank her. The teenager sat astride her father's legs, the bulge of his growing erection pushing up the apron between her thighs. She watched her stepmother try desperately not to cry out as Spike gradually increased the tempo of his fucking and his swollen cock rubbed more fiercely on the piglet-ring in Helen's recently-pierced labia. Katrina felt Mark slide the apron from beneath her ass. She could see her father's erection gradually revealed as the lace-trimmed cloth was slowly pulled backwards.

She felt the hot flesh of her buttocks settle against the hairy nakedness of Mark's upper thighs. The tip of his cock, warm and sticky, pressed against the bottom of her quim. The young woman tensed her muscles and was able to lift herself fractionally higher, but her relief was short-lived. Mark's cock jerked up and rubbed warmly against his daughter's smooth, plucked and swollen, cunt.

Katrina started to get up. Mark wrapped his arms around her and sobbed with lust and guilt as he slipped his erection into the moist crevice of his daughter's sex. Katrina struggled against this monstrous intrusion and they both fell off the chair onto the stone-flagged kitchen floor. Mark, to his everlasting shame continued to hold on to the young woman despite her screams and struggle. To Helen's disgust, and Katrina's tearful disbelief, he plundered his daughter's ravished pussy, every bit as roughly as the Butcher boys had done, until he spurted inside her.

Helen was slow to recover her usually indomitable spirits after Ma had disfigured her body with the piglet-ring. During the long working days, Ma would attach a length of fine chain to the ring and lead Helen from job to job. The chain would be secured to a strong point while Ma went about her own business and to Katrina's dog-collar (Patrick had resisted Ma's plan to piglet-ring the youngest captive's cunt) when the two women prisoners worked together. Several times Ma promised she would insert rings in Helen's nipples as well, but she did not get around to the task before Slaughternight, an event that arrived much earlier than any at the farm had expected.