24 Hours To Live Pt4
On the brink of death, nothing could be further from the mind of Joel McCabe. He had three women – and not just any three women, but the sexy wife AND gorgeous young daughters of arch nemesis Mickey Standish – under his complete control. Each in various states of undress, they were Joel's toys to do with as he pleased over the cumming two hours.
Fifteen-year-old Barbie clone Tiffany Standish was clasped tight on his lap, back to his chest, the kitchen knife threatening to sever an artery should any of the women step out of line. The white tank top discarded, Joel amused himself by playing with a pair of peach sized breasts that felt like two stress balls. And oh was he ever about to relieve some stress. The pleated blue skirt remained in place, from time to time riding up Tiffany's thigh when Joel's hands squeezed those sweet breasts, causing her back to arch. Joel's armoury was complemented by sister Charlotte's thick buckled leather belt, cracked every so often for effect like a manic ringmaster.
Now, just imagine the scene that greeted Joel: below on the carpet, stepmother Jackie, a former model in her late thirties, and nineteen-year-old Charlotte, were about to provide a private floorshow – though not perhaps before a little more coercian. At least, that's what Joel hoped. After all, unquestioning compliance to his twisted whim was no fun, no fun at all.
Joel licked his lips at the sight of Charlotte spread butt naked in profile, resting on hands and knees, cascading highlighted locks dangling like a veil. Stepmother Jackie knelt behind, eyes darting from Tiffany's captive body to Charlotte's plump pussy lips and puckered arse. The instruction from their tormentor: "I want to see you eat her pussy, Jackie," hung threateniingly in the air like a spray of mace.
Jackie grimaced, the indignity weighing heavy. It was a battle of wills and she was on the wrong end. Alone she might take her chances, but couldn't risk the teenagers' lives. Joel's grip tightened triumphantly on Tiffany, the blade glinting. "You'd like to see Jackie lick your sister's cunt, wouldn't you, Tiffany?" he whispered in her ear.
Tiffany wriggled around in his lap. "Let us go, you sick bastard."
Joel merely grinned and fondled her tits a hit more. "Okay Jackie, go to work," he prompted.
With – surprise surprise – Jackie foolishly playing dumb, Joel was forced to act the bad guy once more. Reaching over, he cracked the buckle end of the belt on Charlotte's inner thigh, a real evil snap that immediately flared the tender skin. Charlotte yelped, tears welling, and almost immediately Jackie begged clemency, her soothing lips moving quickly to cover the welt. She nuzzled and licked at the graze, at the same time parting the younger girls arse cheeks to provide a panoramic view of Charlotte's puffy labia for Joel and Tiffany. "Mmmmmmm," slavered Joel.
Tiffany tried to turn away but the blade held fast, forcing her to spectate. Like a small child, Tiffany closed her eyes in defiance. Joel whispered that he'd slice off her eyelids if she tried that again, a threat that had the desired effect as, down below, Jackie worked her talented mouth up Charlotte's shapely thigh, stopping a whisker from the younger girl's pussy to draw a breath. Glancing aside, she saw Joel play idly with her other stepdaughter's gorgeous young breasts, the other hand holding the keen blade to the girl's throat.
When Joel gestured her to get on with it, Jackie knew she had little option other than to do it – for all their sakes. Hands on the tops of Charlotte's thighs, easing apart the slick lips, in went her face. As the older woman's tongue touched the inner flesh of her pussy, Charlotte battled to stifle a groan.
For no other reason than he wanted to, Joel lashed out with the belt, catching Jackie on her panty-clad arse. She sucked in air and screwed up her pretty face as Joel bellowed: "What are your knickers still doing on?"
"You never told me…"
THWACK. "But…" THWACCCCKKKK.
Jackie whimpered, the first visible sign that she was being slowly broken. Drawing the panties to her ankles and kicking them off her toes brought a nod of approval from their tormentor. Nonetheless he issued three rapid swipes of the belt to her bare arse as a warning, and because he could. Squealing, Jackie shuffled over with haste to press her face back hard into Charlotte's warm snatch. The joyous sound of tongue flicking at moistening cunt filled the room. As Jackie's eager tongue found her stepdaughter's clit, each urgent flick seemed to send ripples of betrayal through Charlotte's inexperienced body.
As Joel shifted in the armchair, he raked at his fly, gaining some relief for the stifled bulge beneath. The tip, doused in precum, had worked free of his boxer shorts, the shaft was so damned hard it hurt. Tiffany swallowed hard, deducing what was happening behind her. "Don't they look just awesome together," he teased, stroking Tiffany's long blonde hair.
With his spare hand, Joel reached for the hem of her skirt. Tiffany gasped, tiny hand lowering to meet his, trying to push it away. The constriction of the ever present blade persuaded the frightened teen to rest them passively at her sides, allowing Joel to fumble with the skirt and draw it slowly up her shapely young thighs. The girl's breathing sped with each notch and higher, more intimate caress of tender thigh as Joel savoured the moment.
Things were getting just as hot on the floor below, the initial reluctance replaced by the heat of lust. As Jackie probed every moist pink fold of ger stepdaughter's pussy, an unmistakeable groan of pleasure escaped Charlotte's lips. As the older but nonetheless equisitely sexy older woman came up for air, her lips glistened with Charlotte's juices. At the same time, Charlotte's pussy dripped with saliva.
Gesturing Jackie back into place, Joel continued tugging until Tiffany's skirt was drawn into a concertina at her middle, both thighs exposed. He reached over to place a clammy palm over the front of Tiffany's panties, the warmth radiating back through his hand. Slowly he worked a thick probing thumb back and forth over the damp area where a pair of slick pussy lips met the crotch. "Oh God no, please, no…" she moaned desperately.
Joel continued rubbing his thumb back and forth, matching the motion of Jackie's tongue in Charlotte's cunt. Yet he wanted more depravity before he was done. "Now, kiss her arse," he directed, "and get that tongue right inside, you filthy bitch."
Jackie issued a sneer but, having come to realise that resistance was futile, trailed her tongue the length of Charlotte's perineum. Curling it, she prodded at the quivering brown ring. Oh God, yesssssss," bellowed Joel, continuing to rub Tiffany's covered snatched as they watched.
Manoeuvring deftly, Joel spread Tiffany wide over his knees, his insistent thumb pressing the material right up and inside her wet snatch. Tiffany's front teeth buried in her bottom lip, treacherous body going into uncontrollable spasms, light sensual moans encouraging Joel to rub more purposegully. "You two, change places," he ordered. "Charlotte, it's time to enjoy your first taste of pussy."
Charlotte blushed, having evidently hoped she'd be spared the indignity. But Joel was insistent, a single jerk of the knife capable of slitting her sister's throat. Jackie issued a consolatory look before easing on to her back, knees elevated. Inviting Charlotte in closer, a little stroke of the arm assuring her stepdaughter that everything would be okay. With a sigh of resignation, Charlotte crawled between the older woman's legs. Jackie moaned in mock appreciation, but Joel wasn't fooled by the charade, disappointed that they took him for a fool. Elevating a knee, he lowered the sole of his boot on Charlotte's head, forcing her face deep down into Jackie's crotch. "Alright, alright," protested the young woman, the words muffled in cunt.
As Joel retracted, Charlotte began to lick at the gently petalling lips and this time Jackie's moans carried an air of authenticity. Oh, if only Mickey could witness this. Frankly, he could do to Joel whatever he wished for Joel was having the last laugh. If word got out, his sheer audacity would be the stuff of legend. He'd be lauded for years to come as the guy that had taken on the great man, his wife AND both daughters.
Lowering the knife, the blade caressed Tiffany's hip, eliciting a whimper. Joel sliced the waistband of her panties on both sides, the unsupported triangle of damp cotton in the middle sliding off to reveal a pretty snatch, bordered by a light brush of straw coloured hair. Joel's thumb entered with a squelch, accompanied by a loud exhalation from Tiffany's lips. As Joel rotated, a low moan filled the room, causing the other two women to look up.
Joel ordered them back into position, Charlotte working her tongue ever more urgently. The older woman reached to pinch a pair of sensitive swollen nipples that protruded from a pair of oversized, gravity-defying breasts. Unprompted, Jackie took Charlotte by the hair and up to her face. Exchanging hot deep French kisses and tasting her own arousal, it was as if she hoped Joel might shoot his load prematurely and turn his attention away from her virgin stepdaughter.
No chance. Joel was intent on claiming his prize. Placing his thumb against Tiffany's hymen, he explored the snug tunnel with an index finger, encircling her clit. Tiffany cried out, breasts quivering with each heightened touch, body limp. Totally at his whim, Joel felt confident enough to place the knife on the arm of the chair without recourse, thus freeing up both hands to double the pleasure. Placing the palms beneath her elbows, her slight frame lifted easily. As Tiffany's arse rode up his chest, a rock hard pole jerked below, intent on impaling her virgin vagina. The bulbous tip teased the girl's slit as it hovered precariously close, bringing whimpered pleas. Adjusting, Joel slotted the head in place before letting gravity take its course, her body sliding down in slow motion. "You want this cock inside you, don't you Tiffany?"
Tiffany shook her head in denial as the fat knob buried itself in the tightest damned cunt Joel had ever had the pleasure to encounter. Each notch elicited a cry from the teen virgin. A third of the stiff pole enveloped in sweet young pussy, further penetration was prevented by the barrier of her maidenhead. Desperate to fuck the young pricktease, Joel heaved an almighty thrust from the buttocks. After a moment's shocked silence, Tiffany screamed as her hymen took the brunt, the rampaging fiery head tearing through the fleshy barrier.
Needing leverage, Joel reached for the girl's firm young breasts, cupping and kneading, before compressing each nipple. Her young body rocked, riding his rockhard shaft as the pulsing shaft worked repeatedly over her swollen clit. "No…no…oh God no…no…no…nooooooo."
"Yes!" hollered Joel, cock dipping and rising, thrusting with lust and fury.
Hard work at first, only Joel's surpreme stiffness – the hardest he'd ever been – kept the momentum going. After two minutes of dedicated fucking, suddenly a switch in Tiffany's brain seemed to flick. "God yes," she moaned, taking a grip of the armchair. "Fuck me Joel, fuck me hard…yesssssss."
The words prompted Joel to rammed in even harder, bashing her cervix over and over, to the accompaniment of lustful pleas from the not-so-sweet young girl. "Harder Joel, harder…oh God yes…make me your dirty little slut."
The barrage pushed Joel to the verge of orgasm, his cock disappearing repeatedly between the girl's legs as he fucked from behind like a stallion. At the same time, Tiffany bounced on the stiff shaft, more filth slipping from her lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkkkk…"
Hearing Tiffany become so animated forced Jackie to raise her head, watching intently, as Charlotte continued to eat her pussy. So rough was the copulation that Joel's cock, glazed in Tiffany's juices and streaked in a raspberry ripple effect, slipped out and rebounded off Tiffany's belly. It waved in the air like a barber's pole. Joel gestured Jackie in closer. "Lick it clean, bitch," he ordered.
Pulling herself away from Charlote's oral ministrations, Jackie shuffled over on her knees. Tiffany glanced down, eyes as wide as ping pong balls as, beginning at the base, her stepmother's soft tongue lapped at the fluids clinging to Joel's shaft. Rising gradually Jackie vacuumed up the film of dew. Joel grunted in appreciation. Reaching the mushroom head, Jackie hesitated, eyes fixed on Joel's.
A hand reached out to grab the brunette's hair, lifting and banging down her mouth, the tip plugging her throat. As Jackie spluttered and gagged, Joel held fast until his cock was as clean as a choirboy's smock. Charlotte, in a trance, elevated from her stepmother's pussy to watch. The spell was quickly broken as Joel gestured her closer. "Kiss her…nice and slow…tongues."
Jackie caressed her elder stepdaughter's cheek reassuringly, before tilting her head. Their faces met, both pairs of lips parting as tongues lashed together. The thought of Charlotte tasting her sister's juices on Jackie's mouth sent Joel wild with desire, his cock plunging back and deep into the tight cunt before him. He pumped like a piston, hands clamped at her waist. "Oh God, Joel, use me like the whore I am," squealed Tiffany.
Her tight young cunt and vocal filth pushed Joel to the point from which he was unable to hold back any longer. As he arched his back and thrust hard from the buttocks to deliver one final deep slam, a wave of cum jetted into the soft pink tunnel and flooded her womb, the orgasm like a volley of gunshot in his head. When Joel stopped exhaling and his ears could hear once more, the deafening ring continued.
Jackie was up first, her face demonstrating TRUE fear for the first time that evening, the sort of fear only a gangster's moll can know. Grabbing Charlotte's hand, she fled to the hall as Joel and a disorientated Tiffany followed close behind, neither quite aware of what was happening. Sheer panic prevailed as Jackie skirted up a hang-down ladder into an attic that doubled as a panic room. The trapdoor shut tight, shrouding the naked quartet in black.
For five minutes the three women huddled, no words exchanged which was as well for they'd have been inaudible above the heavy breath. Another five minutes passed before Joel pressed his ear to the trapdoor. It was hard to hear anything. "I'll go see," he whispered.
"No," warned Jackie, grabbing hold of his arm, the grip almost tender, the generosity of feeling surprising Joel, given what had just elapsed.
Joel proceeded nonetheless, taking hold of the trapdoor and feeling suddenly vulnerable and hugely fearful. Maybe this was the precursor to how his life would end. "I'll be okay," he assured, anxious to exit the dark claustrophobic tomb of a room.
Naked, he climbed through the gap and back down into the flat, heart racing. Darting from wall to wall like a policeman on a stakeout, he was ready to turn and run at the slighest disturbance. Yet perversely there didn't seem to be any noise coming from anywhere. Retrieving and throwing on his clothes quickly, Joel crept over to hover on the stairs above the club entrance, listening but still hearing nothing. Slowly he took to the stairs, each creak eliciting a wince. Ear to the door, still nothing could be made out.
The scene that greeted Joel as he eased open the door took his breath away and would be etched indelibly on his brain forever. It was a scene of pure and utter carnage. Every single man in the room, had been shot where he sat, not just shot but peppered with bullets. The walls too had been pebble-dashed by machine-gun fire and every optic at the bar smashed into a million pieces, the contents drip-dripping on the floor in an eerie hollow tone. And the blood! It oozed over the sides of the tables, thickly coating the floor and edging towards him like a volcanic eruption of lava.
Joel was snapped out of the trance upon spotting Mickey Standish, like the others slumped in his poker hand, blood still seeping from multiple orifices. It took a moment to register on his brain: Mickey Standish was dead. The feeling of joy that cut through the numbness was overwhelming.
Joel blew hard, head in a whirl. He could only deduce that a rival gang had set upsome kind of hit akin to the St Valentine's Day Massacre, knowing that the club would be full of Standish and his closest entourage. Just about every member in the hierarchy was lying dead in his own blood. A rival gang or a carefully orchestrated heist perhaps, in the knowledge that some fifty grand would be up for grabs. Or both?
Tiptoeing carefully around the scarlet stream, he towered over his vanquished nemesis, stating in a croaky, almost reverent voice: "Hello Mickey. Told you I'd have the last laugh…"
With that, he lifted the corpse by the hair, reaching inside the man's jacket. He rejoiced as a roll of cash the width of a coke can was extracted. Now this would set up him up nicely and Mickey didn't need it where he was heading. A quick dash around the table, several more thousand was plundered from inside pockets.
Back upstairs Joel's return was received warmly by the distraught women who already feared the worst. With Joel's assurance that the worst was over, reluctantly they climbed from the loft. "Looks like a gangland hit or a heist. They've gone now," he said matter-of-factly. I'm afraid Mickey's dead."
The two girls burst into tears, consoling each other with hugs. Jackie colapsed, burying her face in his shoulder. A minute passed as tears were shed. "It's a pretty nasty scene down there. I think we should get moving. I've a place you can spend the night till things cool down. Has one of you a car?"
As clothes were restored and bags quickly filled with essentials, the enormity of the situation hit home for Joel – he was saved, the death sentence miraculously deferred. "Take the girls first," suggested Jackie, handing him a set of car keys. "I'll call the police and deal with things out here. Go with Joel," assured Jackie, the girls seemingly reluctant.
The following morning Joel awoke, wondering at first whether it had all been some incredible dream, the notion negated when he saw each of the girls clinging to his side like babies. Jackie had phoned at midnight to confirm they'd be keeping her overnight and both girls had insisted on sharing a bed with him. Well, who was he to deny the rquest? At about two a.m. he'd awoken to find Charlotte stroking a penis that stretched half-cocked on his belly. "Do to me what you did to Tiffany," she whispered through sad-looking yet lustful eyes.
Though Joel hated to take advantage of a young girl in a heightened state of grief, he put his principles aside to bang her senseless. The resultant commotion woke Tiffany and soon Joel had two horny, emotional sisters vying for his attention. They swapped positions and it was gone four before the last of his seed had been drained.
As he climbed from bed, careful not to wake the girls, Joel's groin was killing and he walked like John Wayne. After a relieving long pee, he limped downstairs. Now that the ordeal was over, finally he could clear the stack of messages from the answerphone.
Contrary to his fear, they were from family and friends, one message from his mum, another from his dad, and even his brother Pete chipped in. A few other acquaintances enquired of his whereabouts. The last message was fresh, left last night at five thirty. "Hi Joel, it's, um, it's Natalie. Look, sorry for bothering you, but I, um, I really enjoyed what happened this morning. I wondered if you'd, um, like to come round again sometime when Pete's out. Call me."
Joel raised his eyebrows, startling as the letterbox rattled. It was going to take some time to put yesterday out of his mind and lead a normal life. Too early for the mailman, a folded-up handwritten note lay on the mat. It read: 'Dear Joel, thank you so much for yesterday, you really brought out the slut in me. I'm longing for a repeat. Please don't make me wait, Cathy.'
Joel blew hard, his attention drawn by giggly girlish voices upstairs. Jeez, he was a father figure now to boot. He didn't know which way to turn. One thing was sure, life was never going to be the same again. Perhaps he ought just to take the thirty grand and get out of London.