Orders Her To Stop Touching Herself

"Get those fingers out of your cunt," Sam Lane said. It was his general's voice, the one that could boom over a battlefield, even when spoken at nothing more than a whisper. As a girl, and even as a teenager Lois Lane had lived in almost fear of that voice. She could heart in her head whenever she did something wrong, when she broke the rules...and here it was again, and a part of her felt eighteen and trying her first cigarette out behind the garage all over again...

Except Lois wasn't in charge of her own body. And whatever else her mother was, or had been, she was not afraid of Sam Lane.

"You mean this cunt?" Ella Lane spoke with her daughter's voice. Lois felt the outer fingers of her right hand spread her labia wide, flashing her father the wet, pink pussy, two fingers working in and out of the sloppy hole.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the old man breathing. Then he said something in a low voice, one that Lois had seldom heard...the tone that he used when lost in memory...

"So much like your mother."

A soft moan burst from Lois' throat, breaking the spell. Roughly, the muscular old man grabbed her hand at the wrist and bent it around her back in an arm bar. Lois braced herself against the sink, heart racing, telling herself that this wasn't happening, that he wasn't about to...

"If you're going to act like a whore," he growled, all sentiment and softness gone as though it had never been. "Then I'm going to treat you like a whore."

No no no stop him, mom please, don't...please, he's my father! Lois begged in her own mind.

Relax darling. It's not so bad. I should know. Ella Lane's voice echoed through the reporter's head. You think he doesn't want this? How much it must hurt, being that backed up? He's suffered for years since I died. Don't you think it's a daughter's duty to help her father out?

Lois Lane did, in fact, have several negative answers to those questions. But it was too late.

The old man's grizzled cock speared his daughter's cunt like a bullet being chambered into a gun. Lois was momentarily breathless, mindless, unable to think of anything except how his thick dick stretched her pink pussy. It was fatter than any cock she had ever taken—and it was raw, unprotected, the scars scraping against the slick walls of her birth canal, the cock locked, loaded, and aiming straight for its target.

His hips slammed into her ass, still smarting from the stripes he had laid down with his belt, and Lois gasped in pleasure and pain. She stared into the mirror, to see her own face, pupils dilated, flushed with arousal...and behind her the face of her father, grimacing in need and pain and pleasure and...

For the first time, Lois Lane's heart wavered. Her father was fucking her. She knew that this was wrong, that she had been **** into this position, but now that she was in the moment, she could not deny that it was her body that was clamping her cunt down on that old man's cock, that was thrusting back against him, that sent a little thrill up her spine whenever the grey-haired balls slapped against her swollen labia.

I...like it, Lois realized, tears forming in her eyes as the general held onto the arm-bar with one hand, and with the other grabbed his daughter's left shoulder for leverage so that he could press his cock in deeper, harder...building quickly toward the explosion that would send his jizz straight toward his daughter's womb.