7. The Master Bed Defiled

You drag Dad’s mattress off the frame and hurl it onto the dock under the floodlights. He’s left curled on the bare slats, wrists still zip-tied, cum-stained shirt clinging to his skin. The four of you carry pillows and bottles of lube upstairs like a victory parade.

The master bedroom smells of his cologne and defeat. Mira rips the sheets off, “These go in the trash with his dignity.” Jade spreads a fresh black rubber sheet across the king bed, “Easier to hose down later.” You shove Mira face-down into the center, ass high, cheeks already bruised from the weekend. Leo sets two phones on tripods: one wide, one macro aimed between her legs. Jade hits record.

You mount her first, no warning, one savage thrust into her dripping cunt. The rubber squeaks beneath you. Mira screams into the pillow that still smells like Dad’s hair. “Tell him whose bed this is now!” you growl, slapping her ass until it glows crimson. She lifts her head, voice raw: “Heto’s bed! Heto’s whore! Heto’s womb!”

Leo slides in beside you, feeds her his cock. She gags, drool cascading onto the rubber, eyes watering. Jade straddles Mira’s back, facing you, lowers her pierced pussy onto Mira’s spine and grinds, leaving a glistening trail. You lean forward, kiss Jade deep, tongues wrestling while you rail Mira in perfect sync with Leo’s thrusts into her throat.

Positions blur.

Jade on her back, legs pinned, you and Leo double-stuffing her cunt until she squirts in rhythmic geysers that splash the headboard.

Mira pegging Jade with the thickest strap-on while you fuck Mira’s ass from behind, chain of destruction.

All three women stacked—Mira on the bottom, Jade in the middle, Leo’s wife’s friend from earlier chapters (you never even learned her name) on top—triple anal train, you rotating holes like a machine.

Cum everywhere.

You paint Mira’s face, Leo floods Jade’s throat, the women swap it mouth-to-mouth, drooling it back over each other’s tits. Mira scoops a handful from her overflowing pussy, crawls to the open window, and flings it toward the dock where Dad lies shivering. “Dessert, honey!” she calls, laughing.

Final act.

You flip Mira onto her back in the exact spot Dad sleeps. Legs over your shoulders, fold her in half, mate-press. Her belly bulges with every thrust. Jade and Leo hold her ankles wide. You lock eyes with the ceiling-mounted camera: “This is for you, Dad.” Mira claws your back, “Breed me—make me swell—let him raise your bastard!”

You erupt.

Rope after rope, deeper than ever, her womb flooding, overflow gushing around your shaft in creamy waves. She cums with you, pussy convulsing, squirting so hard it soaks the ceiling. The rubber sheet pools beneath her ass like a shallow lake of sex.

You collapse.

Four bodies heaving, glazed, wrecked.

Mira traces a heart in the cum on her belly, whispers: “Tell him the bed’s ours now.”

End of Chapter 7