I know children need their privacy. I know I shouldn't have bugged my daughter's bedroom and her phone, but what is a Mother to do? *What* I ask you? It's not like she's sweet and innocent. Not since those *damn* Tucker boys got their hands on her. *Damn* those boys. She *was* my *sweet* Jessica before they came along.

Thank God I did wiretap her phone. The first conversation I recorded was Jessica talking to Mandy, her best friend.

"Did you do *it*?" Mandy asked.

"Yeah, but I'm *so* sore I can hardly walk," Jessica said.

"How long was the train?"

"Nine cars."

"Nine? I thought there were only five Tucker brothers," Mandy said.

"Five brothers our age, but Mr. Tucker was *there* and so were his *three* brothers," Jessica said. "You think Danny's *hung*, you ought to see his *Dad.* It felt like a baseball bat was being shoved up me."

"Did you let them tattoo you?" Mandy asked.

"That's tonight. They're going to put it right above my slit."

"What will it say?" Mandy asked.

"Tucker's *slut*," Jessica said.

Mangy giggled nervously.

Jessica said, "Bobby told me he had a date with you Friday."

"Yes."

"You'll have fun with Bobby. He'll probably spank you," Jessica said.

"Spank me?" Mandy giggled nervously.

"Yeah, and you'll *love* it. He knows just how to do it so you're *hot* and *wet* and can't keep your legs together. I promise you'll *beg* him to fuck you and he will. They'll *all* fuck you before they're through."

They talked for only a few minutes more before they said goodbye. I waited about forty-five seconds before I charged up to Jessica's room and threw open the door without knocking. Jessica was lying back on her bed naked with her hands on her pussy.

"Mom! How about some privacy?" she said.

"You're ****grounded****!! Don't even *think* about going out for a month!" I screamed. I ran from the room, slamming the door behind me.

I charged into my bedroom and slammed my door. My heart was pounding; my head throbbed. How could Jessica do this to *me*? How I ask you!

My bedroom door opened. Jessica, still naked, walked into my room without a hint of embarrassment. She sat down on the edge of my bed.

"I'm eighteen, Mom. You *can't* ground me. And you can't *stop* me from fucking the Tuckers. I've *fucked* all of them. Nine men. Five women. I like doing it. I'm going to do it for the rest of my life." She glared at me. "When is the last time you were fucked?"

"How *dare* you talk to me like that? I'm *your* Mother," I barked.

"I know, but I *am not* like *you*," she said. "I'm a *slut* and you *are* a *frigid bitch*. Dad told me that's why he left you. He said he was tired of having to fight his wife for a simple fuck."

I slapped her. Slapped her hard, leaving a red hand print on her pretty face. How *dare* she call me a frigid bitch. She glowered, stood, and left the room without another word. I considered running after her. She was my daughter. I did love her.

I heard the doorbell and Jessica's footsteps on the stairs. She was *not* going out. I ran out of my room, intent on stopping her.

Wearing a man's white tee shirt that fit her like a nightdress, she was standing in the front hallway talking to a young man. He was handsome and tall and muscular, with cute dimples and smiling eyes. I could see his appeal to her.

"Where do you think you're going?" I snarled.

"To the Tucker's house," she replied.

"No, you ****are****not!"

"Yes, I ****am****, and I'm going to spend the weekend! I'll see you Monday morning, Mom."

The boy looked at me. His eyes were soft and teasing. "Why don't you join us, Mrs. Townes? We're going to have a weekend fuck fest," he said in a conversational tone.

I did not know what to say. I stood there with my mouth hanging open.

"Yeah, Mom. Come join us. I'll bet you could use a good, hard fucking," Jessica said.

I was *outraged* and I swung to give Jessica another hard slap. But the boy grabbed my arm. His eyes were cold and foreboding as he said, "If you slap her, I'll *spank* you."

"Bobby knows how to spank, Mom. I bet you'd enjoy it," Jessica said.

So he was Bobby, the spanker who knew how to make a woman scream with desire. It had been a long time since I was spanked. Too long. I thought about slapping Jessica again just to see if Bobby really would spank me.

"Come on," Jessica said. Bobby released my arm, winked at me, and followed Jessica out the door.

I simply couldn't let them get away with this... this arrogance and disobedience. I *couldn't.* I grabbed my car keys, jumped in my car, and followed them. I swear Bobby drove slowly to make sure he didn't lose me. I followed them to a large and expensive looking home on a multi-acre plot outside the city limits.

Bobby parked in front. He and Jessica both jumped out of the car, ran inside through the front door, and shut it behind them. Five seconds later, I was pounding on the door and calling Jessica's name.

A woman answered. She was about my age with a pretty face. She was naked and seemingly unconcerned about her exposure. Before I could say a word, another woman appeared behind her. She was also naked.

"I want *my* daughter," I demanded angrily.

I started to push by them but they stopped me, each grabbing an arm. When I struggled, the older woman barked, "Be still, Mary."

"You know my name," I said. I stopped and listened to them.

"Of course. Now listen to me. Listen *very* closely. This is the house of the Tucker men. They own it and everything in it. *Everything.*"

"They own us, too. We women *belong* to them," the other woman said.

"If you cross this threshold, every man and every woman here will use you like they want," the older woman said.

"That's *rape*, I said.

The older woman said, "No, it is *not*. By entering, you *agree* to accept whatever they do. Every one of us will testify to that. You can leave and go home. Nobody's going to hurt Jessica. She loves it here and you don't need to worry about her. Or you can come in and join in the fun. It *is* up to you."

The two women released me and stepped away, leaving the door open with me on the porch. They were three or four feet inside the house. They were attractive women and so free of the shackles of sexual restraint. Maybe it had been so long for me. Or maybe. Maybe... Maybe I didn't know. I didn't know what to do.

They didn't motion me to come in. They let me decide without their interference. Except ****I****didn't decide. I didn't. Someone else inside me decided. Someone else made my feet walk over the threshold and into the hall where they waited. The older woman took my hand while the younger one closed the door behind me.

The older woman guided me to a door and opened it. It was stairs to the basement. "Go on down there, Mary. Go on. You'll love it."

While a gentle hand on my back, she encouraged me to talk my first step down the basement stairs. I took the second. The door quietly closed behind me. I don't remember walking the rest of way down until my feet were on the thick, soft rug of the basement. I do remember the smells: the masculine smells of testosterone and sweat; the feminine smells of vaginal secretions. The smell of sex. It was heady, stimulating. It was overwhelming.

I heard a woman's groans. There was a brunette, big breasted and with dark Latin skin. She was on her back with another woman's face buried in her crotch. That woman was Jessica. *My* Jessica.

A man's arms went around me from behind. Strong, masculine arms wrapping around my rib cage and pulling me tightly against him. Hands seized my wrists and my legs.

"****No!****Let me *go*" I demanded.

"Hold on tightly, boys. She's going to buck," a man said. An older man with a rich deep voice, a voice that sounded faintly amused.

The ones holding my legs raised them so my feet were off the floor. I screamed. I cursed. I struggled with all my might to free myself from them. There were five of them. Five handsome men holding me, spreading my legs. Five muscular young studs. What could *I* Do? It wasn't enough that they held me. Hands were all over me, stroking my thighs, playing with my breasts. Undressing me as I fought them. I heard scissors and turned my head to see a woman, a woman I hadn't seen before, cutting away my clothes.