Machiavelli

David waited three months. Three damn months. Recording, hour after hour. Hard drive after hard drive. You blew him daily; he assfucked you whenever he wanted. He stayed in your room, keeping you on a leash and collar. You slept every night with him. You were forbidden from contacting Carrie.

Finally, he had you send her a message, a plea to meet. He told you to sound ****. Carrie, still caring for you deeply, immediately came over, to find David watching a tape. Carrie was riding your dad's dick. It was last night's session.

"Junior ... David ... what the fuck?" Carrie said, outraged. "Erase this right now!"

"You don't get to talk to me that way. Never again," David said calmly. "This isn't my only tape. I have tons of tapes covering the last three months. I could destroy you. I could destroy that big dicked idiot you're fucking every night. I could certainly destroy this little cocksucker here," he said, knocking on your head.

"So think well on your next words Carrie. I'll let you marry that dumb jock. But you're at my beck and call, just like our boy here. But your children will be mine. And Cassie will be mine."

"You don't have anything on her, you son of a -- " David silenced her with a single finger, and then opened the one file you'd recorded yourself -- the threesome she had with John and Carrie.

"Junior ... why would you betray me?" Carrie asked, tears welling in her eyes. David pointed down at his cock.

"For this, get to sucking boy. Now, Carrie, are you ready to discuss how we do this?" Carrie sighed.

"Okay, David."