Lara’s Ordeal [incest, betrayal, father/daughter, mother/daughter, group, orgy]

*DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of erotic horror fiction. All characters are 18+. This story contains descriptions violence against women, up to and including murder. Caution and discretion are strongly advised.*

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**LARA’S ORDEAL**

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***VICTIMS***

LARA (Lucy and Molly’s SISTER)

LUCY (Lara and Molly’s SISTER)

MOLLY (Lara and Lucy’s SISTER)

PAIGE

NATASHA (Rosie’s SISTER)

ROSIE (Natasha’s SISTER)

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***PARENTS***

RON (Lara’s DAD)

LESLIE (Lara’s MOM)

DAN (Paige’s DAD)

GREG (Natasha and Rosie’s DAD)

CHERYL (Natasha and Rosie’s MOM

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***

Lara sat with her sisters, Lucy and Molly on the end of the bed. The girls were thumbing through their phones, nodding and rolling their shoulders to the song blasting out of the Bluetooth speaker on the nightstand. Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the mirror, makeup pallets and brushes arranged before her like the tools of an arcane ritual. Paige and Natasha competed for room in the vanity mirror against the opposite wall.

The energy in the room was frenetic. The rapidly boiling energy they knew would precede a night like this. Their high school formal.

Lara looked up from her phone, nudged Lucy. “Hey. Drink.”

Lucy nodded, winked, knelt under the bed and retrieved a black plastic bag. From this, she extracted a handle of Pinnacle vodka. Cotton Candy flavored.

“Fuck yeah,” Rosie said, expressionless in the mirror as she applied lipstick. “Pass it.”

“Wait,” Lara said. “Make sure the door is locked.”

“It is,” Molly chimed in. “I locked it after Paige got here.”

“I said make sure.”

Molly sucked her teeth and groaned but stood up, crossed to the door and tried the handle. “See?” She said. “It’s locked.”

Lucy twisted the bottle open and drank from it, leaning her head back and tipping it into her mouth. She grimaced and shook her head, passing the bottle to Lara.

“Fuck,” she coughed. “Tastes nothing like cotton candy.”

Lara laughed, said, “Baby,” and threw back a shot without flinching. Molly was next.

“Me,” Rosie said. “Someone pour it in my mouth.”

Molly laughed and walked to where Rosie sat, stood over her, legs wide. Rosie leaned back, opened her mouth.

Molly’s pour missed by a large margin.

“Fuck!” Rosie shrieked. Molly howled with laughter as the vodka splashed onto Rosie’s right tit, dripped down her bra.

Paige and Natasha interrupted their final touches to turn and join in the laughter.

“It’s a good thing you weren’t wearing your dress yet,” Molly managed between cackles.

Rosie turned and slapped Molly’s ass as she retreated. “Bitch!” But she was laughing now, too. She wiped the vodka up with her fingers, sucked it off of them.

“Oooh,” Lucy said. “Sexy.”

Of the six girls, only Rosie wasn’t yet dressed.

Lara wore a skin-tight white dress. Shoulderless, it pressed her breasts up to her clavicles, and every sudden movement caused them to tremble visibly. For the evening, she had dusted them with the same faint glitter that speckled her cheeks. Her blonde lay across her bare, suntanned shoulders, perfectly waved, sexily, deliberately disheveled.

Lara’s sister, Lucy, wore a slightly more conservative dress, coral pink. Sleeveless, it came up to her neck, but hugged her form tightly enough to show off her ample chest. The dress terminated just above the knee. Her light brown hair was done up in a tight braid that cascaded down her back.

Molly ran her fingers across her own blonde hair, making sure the pins that held it in place remained secure. She wore a simple two-piece outfit, a long-sleeved sun-yellow top and a matching skirt, leaving her midriff exposed. The top plunged dangerously low. Braless, her nipples were just barely visible beneath the ribbed fabric.

Paige’s dress was lavender, and by far the most revealing. Shoulderless, its neckline plunged to her belly button, and the hemline ended mid-thigh. Her bright blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail near the top of her head. Hot pink lipstick and a Strawberry Shortcake purse lent a vague perversity to the outfit that she found appealing.

That perversity was perfectly balanced by her friend Natasha’s simple earth-toned sundress. Her long brown hair undone, simply brushed. Her freckles only just concealed by a thin layer of foundation. She smiled in the mirror, the whiteness of her teeth accentuated by the subtle tan of her skin and the faint memory of red lipstick she had applied but then removed.

Rosie began snapping her pallets shut, collecting her brushes and tossing her beauty blender on top of the nightstand. She rose from the floor, wearing only an off-white floral-patterned bra and maroon panties, and said, “Alright, I’m done. Natasha,” she called to her sister, “Where’d you put my dress?”

Natasha motioned at the Zara bag on the floor beside the vanity. “It’s right here.”

“Help me get it on, will you? The thing is so fucking tight I can’t breathe in it. Are my shoes in there too?”

Natasha put down her makeup, sighed and said, “Your heels? Yeah.”

The bottle of vodka made another round. This time, Rosie got a sip.

#

Outside, in the kitchen, the girl’s parents stood in a circle around the island, in the center of which rested a silver platter. They lowered their heads and breathed in slow and deep, together, all at once. Together, all at once, they exhaled.

Dan, father to Paige, stepped out of the circle and took from his jeans pocket a glass vial filled with a yellow, flaky substance. This he poured onto the silver platter into a neat pile. He tapped the vial several times to make certain there was none left. He pocketed the vial.

The rest of the parents lifted their heads to stare hungrily at the flaky powder.

Ron, father to Lara and Lucy and Molly, stood beside his wife, Leslie. He took her hand, squeezed it, and spoke.

“Today is the day,” he said.

The rest of the parents intoned together, “The day of sacrifice.”

“We take what is ours by right,” Ron said.

Came the answer, “And thus is the world preserved.”

“We shed the blood of our blood,” Ron said.

“And thus are the gods sustained.”

Dan looked around the room, winked, cocked a crooked, irreverent smile. “No rule that says we can’t make it fun, though.”

The parents chittered.

Greg, father to Rosie and Natasha, said, “Your little Lara looks so fucking hot in that dress, Ron.”

Ron nodded. “Doesn’t she though?” He winks at Leslie. “Leslie knows Molly’s always been my favorite though.”

Leslie chuckled, squeezed her husband’s shoulder. “He’s wanted to fuck Molly for years, it’s true.”

Greg shrugged, said, “Can’t say I never thought about Rosie. But Natasha, ugh…”

Cheryl, his wife, chimes in, “God I’d love to fuck the prude right out of that bitch.”

Ron breathed deep, exhaled, said, “Well. Today’s the day.”

Greg and Cheryl nodded. “At long last.”

Dan pulled a small metal straw from his other pocket and placed it on the silver platter. He lifted the platter first to Ron, who took the straw to his nostril, inhaled a portion of the powder. Instantly, his eyes went red. His face flushed. A conspicuous bulge appeared at the crotch of his jeans.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Oh fuck.”

The platter was passed next to Leslie, mother to Lara and Lucy and Molly. She inhaled the powder, threw her head back and shivered, began pawing at herself.

Next the platter went to Greg and Cheryl, parents to Rosie and Natasha. The effect was the same.

Dan went last. He shuddered, ran his hands down his face, looked up at Ron with red, wet eyes and through chattering teeth said, “I’ve waited for this day for eighteen years.”

Ron grinned wide. Tears rolled down his face. Beside him, his wife clawed at her breasts.

“Then let’s not wait any longer.”

Together, the parents moved toward the door, toward the sound of pop music coming through it. Toward the sacrifice.

#

The girls never stood a chance.

The door exploded inward from the force of Ron’s boot, the top half disintegrating into splinters, the bottom half swinging inward.

The girls screamed.

The adults poured in with the rage and abandon of rabid dogs with the scent of meat.

Hands were on the girls, then. Ripping at clothes, tearing at hair. Ron grabbed Lara, his daughter by the throat, causing her to drop the bottle of vodka to the floor where it thumped and fell over, spilling its contents onto the carpet.

She gazed, terrified into his streaming red eyes.

“Dad! What are you—”

Ron’s free hand curled into a fist, slammed into her stomach. She crumpled to the floor. Ron left her there, turned his attention to the far corner where Dan already had Rosie against the wall. Ron’s erection grew as he watched Dan tear the teenager’s maroon panties away. He had his left hand buried in the girl’s dark brown hair while his right hand tugged the zipper down on his jeans, freed his blood-engorged cock. Rosie screamed as Dan plunged into her. He howled in pleasure like a thing from hell.

Natasha screamed, “No!” and ran to help her sister. Leslie was faster, though, and had her by the hair, threw her to the ground. Ron kicked her in the side of the head and she went still. Leslie began pulling the dress off of her, knelt to suck her teenage tits.

Cheryl and Greg had dragged Lara onto the bed. Greg had taken the knife from his belt and was cutting the dress away from her body. Ron let himself watch a little longer, watched his daughter’s body thrash and shake as Cheryl positioned herself over her face, lowered her pussy onto her screaming mouth, muffling her.

Greg tugged Lara’s panties aside, worked his cock free of his trousers, looked up at his wife.

“You ready, honey?” He asked. But she was too busy grinding her pussy against the young girl’s face to answer. Her eyes were rolled back into their sockets, showing only white.

Greg gripped Lara’s thighs and slammed into her. The girl tried to scream, but the sound was a faint thing against her friends mother’s soaked panties.

Greg began to fuck with fervor. Like something possessed.

“Stupid fuckpig,” He hissed. “This is what you’re good for.”

Cheryl squealed, ground herself against Lara’s face so hard Lara felt like her nose might break. “Yes…yes…”

Greg lifted the knife, began cutting shallow lines into Lara’s stomach. Just enough to draw thin trickles of blood.

“You idiot whore,” Greg grunted, and fell forward, lapping the blood from Lara’s tight teen stomach as his wife rode her face.

“Oh god, baby,” Cheryl moaned, “The bitch is gonna make me cum.”

Greg lifted his blood smeared face. “You hear that? You’re gonna make my wife cum, fuckpig.”

He slowed his pace then, only to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his reddened face onto Lara’s twisting body. Cheryl screamed and clenched her thighs around Lara’s blonde head, steadied herself against the headboard as she came, gushing into Lara’s screaming mouth.

Greg kept fucking, hard and slow as his wife’s breathing steadied. She exhaled through pursed lips, smiled, satisfied. Still, she kept rocking herself back and forth across Lara’s face, though the girl had stopped struggling. She’d gone almost perfectly still.

Cheryl leaned forward, took Lara’s quivering breasts into her hands, pressed them together.

“Bet you wish mine were this big and firm, eh baby?”

In answer, Greg merely grunted and fell forward, started biting and sucking the pliant young tits.

Leslie laughed.

Ron had watched all of this, rubbing himself vigorously through his jeans. Now, he turned to the corner where his other daughters were. Lucy and Molly. Cowering, their eyes wide, still not comprehending what was happening. They looked at their father, pleading.

“D…dad? Mom?”

“Honey,” Ron said to Leslie, who looked up from her current prey like a lioness to regard her daughters. “Mind helping me with this?”

Leslie smiled. “Of course, dear.”

Ron crossed the room in three long steps. Lucy and Molly screamed as their mother and father ripped the clothes from their bodies.

Rosie’s screams were the loudest as Dan continued to rape her. He had pulled her away from the wall now, his hands around her throat, plunging in and out of her pussy so hard and fast her breasts had been thrown free of her bra by the sheer force of it.

“Fuck you, slut!” Dan growled into Rosie’s ear, bit hard onto her earlobe. “You’re gonna make me cum! You’re gonna make…me…*CUM!*” These last three words came in time with three final thrusts as he dumped his load into the girl. She began to sob.

“Please…please…”

Dan shoved her away from him. In the preposterously high red heels she wore, she stumbled and fell. Her head cracked against the vanity desk and she hit the ground, face down. Her body spasmed once, then went still. Dan’s seed leaked from her, dripped onto the carpet.

Ron watched the spectacle with Molly’s throat under his hand. He groaned.

“Goddamn it, Dan!” He snapped. “Is she dead?”

Dan knelt, put his fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. His cock was still hard and bright red. He sighed, nodded. “Yeah. Looks that way.”

“Damnit!” Ron growled. “I wanted to fuck her too!”

Dan shrugged, “I’m sorry, Ron. It was an accident. I just got carried away.”

Leslie laughed. Lucy writhed beneath her, face flushing as Leslie choked her daughter to unconsciousness. “Ron, come on.”

“What?” Ron asked.

Leslie rolled her eyes, nodded back at Rosie’s dead body. “It isn’t like she’s gonna say *no* to you, is it?”

Ron took a moment, then laughed, leaned forward and kissed his wife full on the mouth. “Alright, then.”

He turned back to Molly, the daughter he was strangling. She’d gone still. He checked her pulse. Still alive. Then he stood, crossed to Rosie’s dead body, flipped her onto her back. Her breasts fell perfectly to either side, still full and perky with youth, even in death. A thick red and purple bruise spread out around her right eye. Her lifeless eyes watched the ceiling. Ron pulls his cock free and eases it into the dead girl’s pussy, moaning with pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. “Feels amazing.”

Greg paused in fucking Lara to look over his shoulder as Ron defiled his daughter’s corpse.

He slid out of Lara and knelt beside Rosie. He took his cock in his hand and held it against his daughter’s dead tit.

“Ron,” he said, “Fuck her hard.”

Ron obeyed. Started fucking the dead pussy in a rough and regular rhythm, which caused her breasts to bounce and slide against her father’s cock.

“Oh yeah,” Greg laughed. “Good girl, Rosie. Good girl for daddy.”

Behind him on the bed, Cheryl said, “We still have a live one, baby.”

Natasha had slowly begun to wake up.

Greg’s head snapped over to his living daughter. His hand flashed out, took her by the hair. “Come to daddy, Natasha.”

Natasha, still not fully awake, could do nothing as her father positioned her face down across her dead sister, tore her panties away, and positioned his cock over her puckered asshole.

“We’re gonna try something different now, Natasha,” he said. “Daddy’s gonna put it in your ass.”

The words didn’t have a chance to break through the heavy, aching fog that held her mind in a vice before she felt her hole begin to tear. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She started to panic, to buck and thrash which only drove her father’s cock deeper inside her.

“Hold her down, Ron!” Greg ordered. Ron’s hands flashed out, pressed Natasha’s face down into her sister’s breasts.

Greg fell forward, his full weight on top of his daughter, and whispered in her ear. “Uncle Ron is going to kill you now, ain’t that right Uncle Ron?”

Ron grinned. “Sure is.”

“Do it, Ron.”

Natasha screamed loud and long, clawing at the carpet.

“Daddy! Daddy please stop!”

But Greg didn’t stop. He thrusted deep into her ass. Felt it tear a little more, yielding to him.

“Do it, Ron!”

Ron took Natasha by the hair, lifted her face to his, then with his other hand reached out and twisted sharply, snapping her neck.

“Oh fuck yeah!” Greg said as Ron let the corpse fall back onto her dead sister’s chest. “Now she’s loosened up!”

Ron laughed, paused, and slid out of Rosie. He stood.

“Hey,” Greg said. “Where you going?”

“What do you mean? I’m gonna fuck Molly. My turn with one of mine.”

Dan, who had stood leaning against the wall, stroking his cock, said, “Mind if I get Lara, Ron?”

Ron looked over at his daughter, motionless on the bed. Cheryl had slid off of her face, revealing it as dead and frozen, wet and slick with Cheryl’s cum. Cheryl was busy trying to fit Lara’s delicate left foot into her pussy.

“Nah, go ahead,” Ron said. “She’s all yours. She’s dead.”

“Hell I don’t mind.”

Dan went to work on Lara while Ron approached his living daughters. Leslie had already choked Lucy with her own panties, and the girl was very clearly dead. Leslie used the corpse’s limp hand to pleasure herself.

“I left you Molly, honey. I know it’s what you wanted.”

Ron smiled, looking down at his naked, shivering daughter. She had woken up, her eyes wide with terror and shock. A madness was there, encroaching. He saw it.

“Come here, Molly,” he said, grabbing her by the top of the head, her blonde hair bunched in his fist. He dragged her to the middle of the room, threw her onto her back and straddled her, pressing his cock against her pursed-shut lips, smearing her red lipstick.

“Open wide for daddy!”

She shook her head.

“OPEN!” He hit her hard across the face. “OPEN!” Again. And again. Her face purpled and bruised and swelled. With the last strike, he released her, let her fall onto her side.

He didn’t realize his mistake. Didn’t remember where the Vodka bottle had fallen.

“No!” He moved to retreat, but too late.

Molly swung the half-empty vodka bottle in a wide, vengeful arc, crashing the heavy glass into her father’s face.

He bellowed and fell backwards, clutching his jaw.

Molly was on her feet, then, running for the broken door. She had to leap over Rosie and Natasha, where their father was still busy molesting their remains. Greg’s hand flashed out and caught Molly’s ankle mid-leap and she fell. This bought Leslie enough time to cross the room and take her daughter. Greg’s knife was in her hand, and she pressed it to Molly’s throat, pulling her onto her feet.

“Do what mommy says,” Leslie purred.

Molly shook and sobbed. “Mom, mom please.”

“You’re in big trouble, young lady.” Leslie’s face was split by a sadistic grin. “Come here.”

Knife against throat, she guided Molly back to where her father waited. He glared down at his daughter.

“Stupid bitch,” he spat on her. She kept sobbing.

He positioned himself behind her. Leslie had her bent over at the waist. Ron kicked her feet farther apart. Leslie pressed her daughter’s face against her breasts, keeping the knife against her jugular.

“MOM! MOM, DAD NO! PLEASE!”

“Do it, honey,” Leslie purred.

Ron wasted no more time. He fucked his daughter while Leslie buried her face into her chest. Molly wept and wept and wept.

“It’s time,” Greg said from behind Ron. “Finish up.”

Leslie whispered, “Goodbye, sweetie,” into her daughter’s ear and dragged the knife across her throat. The blade bit deep. Blood hurried onto the carpet in a thick stream. She convulsed and clawed at her mother’s breasts.

“Mm,” Leslie said, “That feels nice baby, keep doing that.”

“Fuck,” Ron said, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum inside our daughter, honey,” Leslie cooed. “Go on.”

Four more thrusts and Ron howled as he came.

A long silence followed in the room. The smell of sex and sweat and blood hung heavy in the air.

At last, Dan spoke, pushing himself off of Lara’s corpse.

“Well,” he said, stretching. “Anyone wanna help me get these pigs to the garage so we can start cooking them? I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

Ron nodded, dropped his daughter’s bleeding, lifeless corpse to the floor.

“Oh,” he shook his head. “I could eat.”

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