Chapter 1

Mom closed the steel re-enforced wooden door with a slam, pushing in the four bars so that it was 'secure as a bank', as dad liked to say. I watched her do this silently as Sally was opening up the box of food we had brought with us. While outside the wind and rain sounded like a battle between two Greek gods.

Mom whipped her hands together and turned towards me, "There - we are safe now." She wore a forced calming smile, for my benefit no doubt - always the one to be the maternal mother bear to her cubs.

She needn't have worried about the storm - my sister Sally and I have grown up with hurricanes nearly every spring and summer. This year's only difference was that dad had this bunker built as a refuge, a sanctuary if you will.

Mom stepped past me and helped Sally with the boxes we had rushed to retrieve after getting the warning that the tropical depression had been upgraded to a full blown hurricane and it would be upon us before morning. The running joke at school is that the folks at the National Hurricane Centre choose names after their ex-wives - this one was called "Hurricane Tammi-Lee" and it promised to be a bitch.

We really should be evacuating along with all our neighbours and the rest of the town but we were higher than flood waters could go and back far enough from the coast that it should be safe. In years past we would bundle up our belongings and drive out onto overly busy roads to go to grandma's house. I remember these as scary rushed affairs, our parents trying to act brave for my sister and I. Every time we returned from these evacuations, our home had considerable damage - mother would be crying, dad angry and somber. This year would be different, dad had sworn - we would be prepared. He had promised that we would not have to get into the bumper to bumper traffic, since three people died through mishap on the roads last year - thus the cement re-enforced underground bunker was built. Now that Dad's theory was to be tested, the hurricane was going to strike while he was on the road for work - leaving his family alone with but a hypothesis.

"Gary, come fold out these cots will you?"

"Sure mom." Old army surplus stuff that dad had gotten for a song, as he liked to say. Not very comfortable, but it would allow us to sleep off the smooth cement floor. Mom, I saw was starting the kerosene space heater - it can get cold down here, even without the hurricane winds just out of those doors. Sally had nothing to do and was starting to look scared.

At that very second, someone knocked on our steel-re-enforced wooden door loud enough to make us jump.

All three of us froze after our initial surprise, our heads turning towards the door. My first thought was that dad had made it home. I looked to see mom frowning and my sister looking like she had seen a ghost. By their features I too realized that this could not be dad - he was simply too far away.

Another loud knock echoed through our cement cell and mom called out, slowly stepping towards the single door to our bunker, "Hello? Ron?" Evidently she thought it could be dad too - or perhaps prayed it was, but I could tell that she didn't believe it either.

Through the howl of the wind outside we heard a very tiny voice shouting, "Please help... hurt... !"

Sally looked surprised at the sound of the voice, almost glad that it wasn't some kind of apparition, "Maybe we should let them in mom?"

Mom looked nervously at me, her fear no longer masked, dad had always told us that once that door was closed it had to stay closed until the storm passed us by. He never wanted to scare me so he just said that there was not enough room for other people in the little bunker. I think he feared more than that, but for the life of me I had no idea what he meant.

"Hello?"

Mom seemed indecisive, looking at Sally now. It sounded intense up there - worse than when we fought to bring our few belongings from the house, fighting the winds that threatened to trip us off our feet.

Another knock, more desperate this time, "... my daughter... hurt... !"

Mom, being the devoted parent decided, I saw it in her face just before she turned and strode the few steps to the door. Each clang of the bolts being shot back sounded ominous. Mother would do anything to protect her children - could understand another parent doing the same and felt the natural inclination to help. It was one of her strengths - and perhaps a weakness.

The door swung violently out, the wind controlling it - something about pressure differences dad tried to explain once, but I had not been really listening. A man, soaking, and looking miserable stepped in abruptly, mom stepping back in surprise, her eyes looking past him, around him. I knew she was not looking at the storm in the blackness behind the man but for the daughter that the man had shouted out was hurt. I was a little surprised too - he was alone.

Mother stood there as the man fought with the door - closing it after a fight, his large hands shoving home each bolt before taking a deep breath and turning towards us.

I think it was at that moment that I knew letting him into our sanctuary had been a mistake. When he pushed the hood of his slicker off his head to show his face, my sister hissed in fear behind me. It was not that he looked scary - but he did look a little wild, with a week old beard, wet flesh and hair, and the brass hoop through his nose. Or perhaps it was the smirk he gave the three of us - it contained something almost evil as he surveyed us.

Mother crossed her arms, "Your daughter is hurt?" I could tell that she was nervous as well - but hiding it. Wanting to believe the earlier lie.

The man seemed to not hear, unzipping and opening his soaking jacket before reaching in. "This is my daughter." He pulls out a large calibre revolver and aims it right at my mother's face.

No sound except what was happening outside the doors. But I knew the biggest danger was now inside our bunker rather than out - and we had let it in.

That evil smile widened. "You have a nice cozy place here lady." He then jerked the gun towards my sister, "Your name girl?"

Sally shrieked behind me from being threatened for the first time in her life with a gun before mumbling out, "Sally."

"'Sally',", said the scary man as if testing the name, "what is your mother and brother's names?"

Sally gasped out, "Sharon and Gary." I have never heard her sound so scared before.

The man nodded before turning the gun back towards mom, who was also looking scared.

"We don't have anything valuable here - please just leave!" Mom was trembling.

The man nodded and chuckled, "I think you have plenty I want here Sharon." He emphasized 'you'.

A violent shiver ran through mom and I was too young, too naive, to realize why.

"Besides, a person is liable to get killed out there." He chuckled at his own joke - obviously, the threat of someone liable to get killed in here too. I felt the blood drain from my face and felt dizzy with growing fear. "How old are your kids Sharon?"

Mom swallowed loudly before answering, "Gary is fifteen and his sister is a year younger."

His eyes moved back to my sister, "Nice" he hissed lecherously.

Mom stepped quickly into his view, blocking her daughter from his sight. "My husband, he will be back at any moment." It was a lie of course and I thought it a damned good one on such short notice - I was nearly petrified with fear.

The man just grinned out one side of his face, "I don't think so Sharon. Half the town has disappeared or has blown to the ground already from the wind - the other half is under water. If you really are married - he isn't home tonight so its just the four of us in this nice safe cozy hole in the ground."

Sally began to loudly sob now.

The man waved his gun and off handedly ordered, "All of you... go sit on that cot." He watched us comply, mom trying to smile bravely for us but failing - she took my sister's shoulders around one arm and sat with her. I sat next to my sister, watching the man.

As he removed his wet outer clothing, I realized that this man was obviously a guy outside our normal crowd. Ripped dirty jeans, muscle shirt, tattoos up both arms all telling me that this guy was trouble. He hadn't stopped at his outer clothing either - but kept taking stuff off until he stood in his ripped jeans and nothing else. He ignored us and strode over to the heater and shivered above it, obviously enjoying the heat. Mother and I sat glaring at him, my sister sobbing into her hands in fear.

When he turned back to us it was mother that spoke first, "Don't do this okay? We can all just sit quietly until the storm is over and no one will ever know you were here."

The man stepped closer to us, staring from my sister back to my mother - ignoring me - the gun rubbing lewdly outside of his jeans, right about where his penis would be.

"Listen Sharon - you and your kids do everything I say and then when I leave tomorrow, no one gets hurt okay?" He was smirking again - in control and he knew it.

As he stepped up to us, a reach away, he moved the point of his gun from his crotch to moms chest - pressing it into her tee-shirt, making a valley between her breasts. Sally had finally lifted her face, to stare in horror at the gun in mom's chest. I could not help but do the same - it dawning on me what mom and the guy had been talking about all this time, what threat my sister and mother were under. Suddenly, death did not seem to be the worst of threats in our little cement world.

Mom's face was white with fear but she forced herself to slowly speak, "Leave my kids alone and I will make you happy okay?" Mom nodded to the side of the cement bunker, "We can do whatever you want over there?" A stack of boxes and a thin metal shelving unit split the long rectangular bunker into almost a third, giving it a location for the illusion of privacy.

Sally was sobbing again while I stared at mom in horror, realizing what was being bartered. What about dad?

For a full minute the gun moved around mom's chest, almost as if it were checking the dimensions of those round globes mother had, before the man suddenly stepped back and said in almost a bored voice, "Okay. Stand up 'mom'."

Mom had to pry Sally's hands away from her, pushing my sister into my arms, looking at me almost sternly. The message was clear - be strong, take care of your sister. Sally seemed to melt into my side, her own hands coming up to grasp me desperately in a hug.

Mom then swallowed thickly, took a deep breath and stood up from the cot. It felt as if she were leaving us forever and my heart was threatening to break, tears of my own coming to my eyes.

The guy just stood facing mom for another long minute before he ordered, "Strip."

Mom nodded again to the wall of boxes suggestively.

He growled, "I said strip!" The gun came up and the guy sneered with impatience.

It felt like the rest of the world had deserted us - our small cement sanctuary had turned into a jail cell. Mom surprised me by looking over her shoulder directly into my eyes, looking sad rather than the expected fear. Then she turned back to our tormentor and began to strip.

He stood watching, waiting.

Sally's eyes rose from my shoulder, her hands whipping the tears from her cheeks to see our mother humiliated.

I watched in silence as mother's clothing slowly made a pile by her feet until she stood with her back facing me completely naked. My tears had tried up suddenly and my heart was beating to a different rhythm as I looked on the first bare female of my life - abet, from the back. Unwillingly, my eyes were drawn to the hourglass soft round flesh of my own parents ass a meter before me. Not once did I even contemplate closing my eyes or turning away.

"Nice Sharon. How old are you?"

"I am forty one."

The guy was smiling now, evilly, as he stepped directly in front of my mom. She stood almost as if frozen in place, looking straight ahead, hands to her sides. One hand rose and moved around mother's torso, hidden from my view, but I knew he was touching her there - on her chest, the edges of the soft globes visible about her sides. Mother's wide pale round buttocks clenched and unclenched randomly.

The hand slipped lower and mother suddenly gasped as if in surprise, the guy's smirk widened. "I bet the old man likes to give it to you as often as he can huh?"

Mother stayed silent, her thighs beginning to tremble and she was starting to sway as if in a wind, the hand still below her waist, moving only a little.

In the silence of our prison, the horror of outside was almost background music to this hell, we all heard mother's small moan. At the same time I noticed that her big soft ass had clenched and her hips moved slightly forwards in a single jerking motion.

She whimpered suddenly, "Behind the boxes?" Mom was begging.

The guy slowly nodded, obviously enjoying this. "Okay, have it your way. But you crawl back there on your knees." He had relented, but obviously on his own terms.

Mom's shoulders stiffened for a second. The man stepped back, bringing one glistening finger up to his nose, sniffing absently. Mom dropped to her knees and then her hands and began to crawl around the cot my sister and I sat on, towards the divider a few meters away.

My eyes, I will admit with embarrassment, watched every slow movement of my parent. The way her pale skin looked, her arms and thighs trembling, the large breasts hanging and moving in an indescribable dance as she crawled - but it was her reddened face, her trembling lower lip and the way she completely ignored Sally and I as she crawled that really intrigued me.

Sally sat staring at the bare cement floor at our feet while the man and I watched until mother crawled all the way around out of sight behind some boxes and chests. Mom's large white ass moving almost hypnotically, the darkness of her female fur sprouting from between her thighs, a shadow hinting of her bum hole between those large bottom cheeks, and of course the pink glistening petals of her vagina. The sight forever burned into my memory.

The guy chuckled and shook his head then looked at me as I turned to face him once again. "Trust me Gary, she is going to enjoy herself." He then strode past Sally and I with but a half hearted, "If I hear you or your sister move from that cot, your mother dies."

Sally sobbed, I heard my mom from out of sight, gasped, hearing what we had heard. Then he was gone as well, meters away and out of sight.

Nothing for several seconds then a zipper and then wet clothing - the only garment on both of them was his pants and I felt sick. The command that came next sounded as if it were right next to us - reminding me how close they were, how it was impossible for that temporary wall to really hide what was going on from us. "Suck it slut."

Sally stiffened in my arms, her eyes how pressed into my neck. Did she fear that she was next? I supposed if the guy wanted too, there was nothing to stop him. Mother had sacrificed herself to save us - but would it really work?