Tag Alina: Instrument of Revenge - Cover

Tag Alina: Instrument of Revenge

Copyright© 2010 by Punky Girl

Chapter 6

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Lana Rogers broke Jerry's heart. More than that, the rising Republican politician humiliated him in front of his friends and family. What better way to take his revenge than to force her precious daughter, 15-year-old Alina, into The Game? With the help of his sister, Diane, that's exactly what Jerry plans to do.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Consensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Blackmail   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Incest   Brother   Sister   MaleDom   Light Bond   Gang Bang   First   Pregnancy   Cream Pie  

"You still dominate the Game, Alina. Even though you've barely earned any points this week the 52 you earned last Friday still gives you a commanding lead."

"Yes, Mr. Senders," Alina said. She was totally nude, in his office, and in the usual position. To her relief he was alone which meant he wouldn't be sharing her with any of his friends or colleagues today. She tried to keep her eyes off the steel ruler in his hand, though, since she'd yet to see him hold it without using it.

He was pacing back and forth in front of her and she was terrified of that object. Worse, she was terribly turned on. She hadn't had an orgasm all day and she could feel her body yearning for one. In this room, in this position, her hormonal 15-year-old body expected one. She bowed her head in shame when she realized that and had to remind herself it was the birth control pill's fault.

"Did you know that Chloe Causman, who was the only slut in this game to ever surpass you in points, quit the Game yesterday?"

"I saw that," the child whispered. "On the website ... it's just me and some girl named Jessica now, right?"

Her mother's ex-boyfriend suddenly slammed the steel ruler down onto her vulnerable left breast. Alina cried out in pain but didn't let go of the desk behind her. She hadn't been hit since the previous Friday when she'd briefly been behind Chloe in points. Even though she was far ahead right now, and thus didn't deserve to be hit, she wasn't going to ask him the reason for his rage. That would just make it worse.

"Jessica Mackson is nothing to laugh off," he growled. "Your lead over her, while impressive, is not insurmountable. Don't get cocky."

"I ... I won't, I swear," she whimpered through the pain. What's wrong with him? she wondered. She could sense anger emanating from the man.

He gripped her chin and turned her face to his. "Really? Then why is it you've only fucked about six boys this week while Jessica has done almost triple that?"

"I'm so far ahead, and, and... ," Alina sputtered.

Thankfully he let go of her. He said, "Truth is you're the biggest slut at this school. I know that, now. I've seen the videos, the pictures. You enjoy getting fucked but that's not enough to win the Game. Jessica, on the other hand, she does the hard work. She doesn't wait for nervous adolescent kids to find her and ask her for sex, she actually seeks them out. That's what you should be doing. Also, unlike with you, it's obvious she's working when you see her pictures and videos. You, on the other hand, are enjoying yourself too much. You need more of a work ethic like hers."

Alina nodded obediently but thought, She must not be on the Pill or she'd come across just as slutty as me.

The large, handsome man who had been close to becoming her step-dad sighed. "Alina? Is it true that Patrick proposed to your mother the other day? And that Lana said yes?"

The child gulped. So that's why he's so mad. She knew this would make him angry but she knew it would be worse to lie. She said, "Y-yes."

He smacked her left breast with the ruler again, even harder this time, and she screamed out in pain. Somehow she found the strength not to move her hands off the desk even though every fiber of her being was telling her to run.

To her utter surprise he just stared at her after that. His eyes were burning, his body was tense, but he finally just said, "Go. Get out of here."

Alina thought it was a trick. Part of her hoped it was a trick. She stayed in her position, her naked ass pressed back against his desk, her hands flat upon its surface, her back straight.

"GO!" Mr. Senders yelled after a moment.

The girl just stared at him. "But ... what about ... my lessons?"

The man shook his head. "Just get the fuck out of here, you stupid slut. My dick doesn't get hard for you anymore and I'm out of friends to share you with. No one likes a used up little slut like you. So just go."

Alina, whose pussy was sopping with the expectation of sex, awkwardly dressed herself.

"M ... mister Senders?" she asked before pulling on her shirt. What are you doing? she thought just as she spoke.

"What?"

"Is this ... I mean, is this our last time together?" Stop, go! What are you doing? Leave! she urged herself, but the horny teenage girl ignored her inner-voice.

The man, sitting in his chair now, looked annoyed and depressed. He rubbed his forehead and said, "Yeah, I'm done with you. You don't have to come here anymore. Good luck with the Game."

To her surprise his words devastated her. This is a good thing, she told herself. You're finally free of him! Yet the girl couldn't deny anymore how eager she had been for his fat cock. One of the reasons she'd been relieved to find him alone today, she now knew, was that she'd assumed it'd meant he'd definitely fuck her. Sometimes when he invited friends to their daily meetings he didn't fuck her which, she had to admit, always disappointed her. None of his friends had ever come close to being as good at fucking her brains out as he was.

This is all the Pill's fault, she thought to herself as she dressed, struggling not to cry. That's when it finally occurred to her: she wouldn't be on the Pill much longer. There was only one week left of the Game. In a very short amount of time she wouldn't feel like this all the time anymore, she wouldn't feel so horny, nor would she be having such amazing orgasms on a regular basis.

Is it so bad for me to just enjoy this while it lasts? she thought. I mean, I have to be on the Pill anyway. What's the harm in just enjoying it a little?

"Mr. Senders?" she blurted before she could think better of it. She had pulled back on her spaghetti-strap top and her panties but was holding her skirt in her hands.

"What?" he snapped at her angrily.

"I, uhm ... I did know," she said after a deep breath. "That night you proposed to Mom at the country club. When you told me about it earlier that evening, I already knew she was leaving you. I could have warned you that she would say no. I should have warned you. But I didn't."

He snorted. "I knew it. You're just like your mom: incapable of even the smallest kindness. You could have saved me a whole lot of embarrassment but you chose to see me get humiliated in front of all my friends and family instead. I fucking knew it."

"I know," she said, stepping forward toward the desk. "It was wrong. And I laughed about it later, with friends and stuff, and I never respected you or treated you well the entire time you were dating Mom even though you were so nice to me. And one time, when you and Mom were in the pool, I stole $40 from your wallet. And remember that big fight you and mom got in over the summer? When she screamed at you and called you a cheater? That was because of me, too."

"Wait," he said, apparently stunned. "You put those in my car?"

The girl nodded. "I stole the underwear from my friend Justine's mom and threw them in the back of your car knowing Mom would see them. I was mad at you for not being able to drive me and my Bible-study group to the movies the day before and I just ... I was angry. So I tried to trick Mom into thinking you were cheating on her."

Mr. Senders looked more surprised than angry. "Why are you telling me all this, Alina?"

"Because," she said, dropping the skirt and placing her hands on his desk. She leaned forward, knowing that it would give him a good peek at her modest cleavage, and with her heart pounding in her chest the girl continued, "maybe you should punish me for all that? If ... if this is our last time together, wouldn't you like one last chance to fuck a bitch like me, daughter of a bitch like my mother, both of whom treated you so terribly for no good reason?"

You are so stupid! she thought to herself, yet she couldn't help but feel incredibly aroused, too.

At first Mr. Senders just stared at her. He was obviously as surprised by her words and actions as she was. But finally he said in a stern voice, "Stay in that position. Keep your ass high in the air."

He stood and angrily pulled open a desk drawer as he did. Alina felt a mixture of fear and relief. Even so she kept her legs together and arched her back which stuck her marvelous teenage ass high into the air. Mr. Senders had taken something out of the drawer and was now walking purposefully around the desk to get behind her. The girl felt her heart-rate increase about a thousand-fold in anticipation of what he was up to. The curiosity, mixed with the relief that her little ploy had worked, also got her pussy tingling and glistening again.

"You know what I think the most underrated game in the world is, Alina?" he asked from behind her.

"No, Mr. Senders," Alina breathed.

Just then she felt him yanking down her panties. She trembled as they passed her thighs and then fell to the floor, exposing her naked ass to the man.

"Table tennis," he said. His voice was matter-of-fact and had an edge to it. He rubbed her exposed butt and pushed her shirt up a bit. "It's great for developing hand-eye coordination and reflexes, plus it's just a ton of fun to play. You'll find out when you get to college, though, that your generation has forgotten the sport. The only thing they know about ping-pong balls, for instance, are that they're used for drinking games. And the paddles? If they even know what one looks like they probably wouldn't know how to properly wield one. It's a shame, really, because I've always loved playing. In fact, I keep a custom-made paddle in my desk drawer in case one of my colleagues hits me up for a game. Do you want to see it?"

Her heart was really racing now. "Y-yes, Mr. Senders."

With his right hand still caressing her ass he leaned forward and showed her the rubber-padded wooden paddle. She gulped at the sight: it looked like a miniature tennis racket only it was solid. Its rubber was dyed a dark red color and the wood was polished black.

"I'm going to use this to spank you, Alina," he said, his voice dry and threatening. "Have you ever been spanked before? Did your mother spank you growing up? Did your dad ever bend his little girl over his knee before he died?"

"N-no," she said breathlessly.

"A shame," he said. "If you'd been properly spanked as a little girl maybe you wouldn't have turned into such a huge slut. Regardless, here's how it's going to work: I'm going to spank that little ass of yours ten times. After I'm done I'm going to give you ten seconds to convince me that fucking you would be a more appropriate punishment. If you succeed, I'll fuck you. If not then I'll spank you another ten times. We'll keep doing that until either you convince me to fuck you or your ass is beaten beyond healing. Understand?"

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