6
My body responded to her riding me, even though I didn’t want to feel enjoyment or come inside her. Just because I liked guys didn’t mean my body cared. Pleasure was pleasure.
My dick got hard when she stimulated it. And at eighteen years old, it didn’t take much to get me aroused. I hated it and loved it all at the same time.
No matter how much I wanted to be disgusted having sex with a woman, I liked having lips around my dick, and a wet, warm hole to plow into.
I couldn’t help but wonder if liking a naked woman doing things to me made me more messed up than I believed I was? How sick was I for wanting to be butt fucked by the captain of the football team, than this chick—who was my foster mom’s friend?
The carnal urges inside me were tough bitches to fight. They didn’t care about my sexual preferences, that I didn’t want to be with a woman.
And because I appeared to enjoy the forced sex, my foster dad kept bringing women into my bed. As he would say, to fuck the gay out of me .
Of course, it would never happen.
Or at least I hoped it wouldn’t.
I’d known since I was eight that I was different. Felt those little flutters in my stomach and had goose bumps on my arms around boys. By middle school, my dick would perk up when certain dudes were near me.
“Tell me you like this woman!” my foster dad shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts. Next, he made a cracking sound with his black belt to strike fear into me. It worked every damn time.
If I didn’t respond as he demanded, I would be whipped. If I tried to refuse being with the women he brought into my room, I would be beaten to a pulp.
Nobody could save me from my puritanical foster dad’s therapy .
My foster parents didn’t belong to a church or denomination, yet they acted like they were godly. They had “home church” and Basil was the leader. The women he brought to my bed were members.
They were all sort of hippies. I was convinced they had made up their names to make themselves sound pure and of the earth. Basil and Juniper weren’t normal names or normal people. Neither were Joy, Clover, Sage, and Moonlight.
As I got older, things had felt off with my foster family. I really believed I was part of a cult and had no way out.
“I like her,” I grunted as she went to town on me, riding me hard and fast.
“Touch her tits! Give her pleasure like she’s giving you!” he yelled, standing behind her. “I see you trying to block out what’s going on, and it won’t work. Just believe you’re straight and you will be. It’s that simple!”
Simple my ass. To him maybe, but not to me.
“I’m straight,” I said only to appease him.
“Is that right?” He moved toward me. His Burt Reynold’s mustache bowed down into a frown. “You’re lying to me. I saw you staring at the man who jogs by our house every morning at six.”
Oh, shit! That explains why he had all the women here. The other three were in the living room. He was going to make me be with each one of them as punishment.
“You think I’m not watching you, but I am!” He lifted the belt in front of him, his hand shaking with rage.
Wincing, I cried, “I’m sorry!” How stupid could I have been? Right there, I’d admitted he was right. I was such an idiot. My mouth always got me into trouble. I needed to learn to keep it shut.
“Just focus on me.” Joy, my foster mom’s friend, cupped the side of my face with her hand and stared warmly into my eyes.
Joy was a lonely, divorced mother of two in her late twenties.
Her ex had left her for a younger, nineteen or twenty, year old woman.
She’d been devastated and fell into a deep depression.
Given her emotional state, it hadn’t been difficult for Basil to convince her to help me in this unconventional way, even when I cried at first.
Eventually, I’d come to terms with the fact that I was helping her to feel good about herself, during my so-called therapy . At least one of us benefited from the forced sex.
I lifted my hands from my sides and glided them against her thighs, caressing her skin to please Basil. I hated him so much, but hated how the sex with women didn’t feel so bad.
Like really? What the heck was wrong with me?
Joy moaned, moving her body more freely. I thought it was strange how she didn’t seem bothered to have an audience. Basil and Juniper being in the room seemed so wrong to me. I just couldn’t imagine this scene was normal in other people’s homes. Why would Joy allow it?
She took my hand and placed it at her pussy to show me what she wanted. I followed her direction like a good boy and rubbed her clit with my finger.
That little button seemed to be a hot spot on every woman—an electric trigger that launched them into ecstasy.
And why would I give them what they wanted up front? These women, the same four, had been raping me since I was fourteen. None of them were married. They weren’t even pretty.
I was confident my foster dad had no trouble convincing them to agree to have sex with a teenager.
Plus, he was their leader. They respected him. Admired him. Loved him.
I had been present when he’d told them they were saving me from the fires of hell. To say I had been shocked by his proposal would be a joke compared to my reaction when they agreed. Mortified would be an understatement.
And yes, I had cried during the meeting as he went into depth about the women’s part in my therapy . They had honestly believed it was their moral duty to help save me from sin.
Really? How?
By forcing themselves on me, while my foster parents watched the whole thing?
Like now, Basil had stood at the side of the bed in an intimidating stance with his belt in hand. Juniper could always be found seated in the corner. Her meek demeanor changed when she entered my bedroom.
After some research in the school library, I had figured out they were voyeurs and fucking sick in the head.
“That’s it, baby boy,” Joy said, picking up speed on top of me. “Slip a finger in and do that thing I like.”
Great, now she was giving me orders, too. To get it over with, I obeyed and cupped her breast with my free hand and pinched her nipple.
“God, yes!” she cried. “You’re so good at this. You’d make any woman happy.” Joy howled through her powerful orgasm, then collapsed on top of me.
This wasn’t the first time she’d said I was good at sex. It wasn’t hard. I was literally following everyone’s orders. It was like making cookies from a recipe.
Step one: gather all the ingredients and measure them out properly.
Step two: add to a bowl.
Step three: mix well, then scoop onto a baking sheet.
Step four: place in a preheated oven.
Ten to twelve minutes later, voila, freshly baked cookies. Or in this case, orgasmic bliss and a satisfied woman.
I tried not to show emotion, but I couldn’t fake the exhaustion I felt. Or hide the sweat from the vigorous workout I’d just been through.
During my first year of sessions with the women, I’d tried to refuse and fight back, but my disobedience had made Basil beat me into submission. Once I had accepted my fate and surrendered to the forced sex, it had become a mindless act. I’d get into the zone and enjoy myself.
As I said, pleasure was pleasure. I’d get my release and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it felt good. Of course, later on I’d hate myself for being weak and I’d plot their deaths. All of them.
“You’ll be graduating soon,” Basil said as he moved toward me. “What should we do about you?”
“What’s there to do?” I probably shouldn’t have asked. Maybe I didn’t want to know his intentions. I’d be eighteen, a legal adult, no longer in the system. They wouldn’t receive a check for me anymore.
Wasn’t he going to let me leave the house?
For as long as I could remember, I’d been dreaming of being on my own and away from Basil and Juniper.
I wasn’t afraid of living on the streets. Anything would be better than this place, then I could try to find my older brother, Logan. He’d promised to come back for me, but he hadn’t. It had taken many years before I realized he’d been lying the day he said good-bye to me.
Joy startled me when she pecked my lips. “See you later, baby boy.” She climbed off me, grabbed a robe Juniper handed to her and put it on. They whispered to each other, then Joy left the room.
Before I could scramble to my feet and put my clothes on, Basil cleared his throat. I knew better than to move from my spot. My session wasn’t over and he had more to say.
Not to mention the other women were waiting for their turn. Nevermind me needing recovery time. Nope, I was supposedly young and virile and could handle it.
“What’s there to do, you ask?” Basil tapped his index finger on his lips. “That’s a good question. Let’s think out loud about this, shall we?”
My heart seized. Something felt very off, worse than forcing me to have sex with older women.
“You don’t have any work experience,” he said.
Because you won’t let me work, asshole.
I went to school and came home. He wouldn’t even allow me to do sports or join a club.
He had Tamara keeping an eye on me at school.
I couldn’t do anything without her tattling on me.
Then I’d get beaten and miss a week of school.
She’d left home the second she graduated, a couple of years ago. Hadn’t seen her since.
And why hadn’t I run away? Fear.
“You don’t own a car or have your license,” Basil said.
Because you won’t pay for driver’s training .
Again, if he’d let me get a part-time job to earn money, I could buy a cheap car and I’d have freedom, but it was that freedom he didn’t want me to have.
Basil was a power-hungry, lazy fuck. He didn’t have a job outside of his church. Me and the other foster kids paid his bills.
“You aren’t cured, are you?” He furrowed his brow and stared at me. His question stole the oxygen from my lungs. “I’ve failed, haven’t I, Brent?”
No words came to me. My tongue literally felt like it had slipped into the back of my throat to choke me.
“Don’t worry. I think I have a solution to our problem.”
Our problem? I wasn’t even his biological son. He should just kick me out of the house once the checks stop rolling in.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. I tugged the blankets over my naked body as Juniper got up to open it. Violet, Basil’s and Juniper’s only biological child appeared. She was three years younger than me and the sweetest girl. When I had arrived at the house, she was an infant.
We grew up together. We were close, like a real brother and sister.
What was happening?
“Come in sweetheart,” Basil called to her. “Do you remember what we discussed the other night? Are you still okay with marrying Brent.”
Violet nodded and went to his side. She looked white as a ghost.
“Marry me?” I shouted. “She’s only fourteen and my sister!”
“You’re not blood related, Brent. Don’t be so dramatic. And in our home, once she bleeds, she’s a woman.”
Holy shit!
“No, I won’t agree to it!” Before I could run for my life, a handcuff was slapped around my wrist and I was cuffed to my bed.
“I thought you might give me trouble with this. You haven’t been easy since you arrived.” Basil cuffed my other wrist, then straddled my chest and punched me in the face over and over. He was big and overpowered me,
But then, I didn’t fight back either. I surrendered to his wrath and prayed he’d kill me so I wasn’t forced into marrying Violet.
I must have blacked out, because when I came to, the cuffs were off and Violet was grinding on me. Her tears rained on my face as she caressed my cheeks with her fingertips.
“No, please, no.” A sob ripped from my chest. I couldn’t be with Violet. In my heart, she was my little sister. I didn’t care if we weren’t blood related.
“Stop being a pussy,” Basil barked. “Here I am giving you my beautiful daughter, and this is how you thank me? Do you want her to think you don’t like her? That she isn’t good enough for you?”
I shook my head and cried.
“Now is your chance to be the man I know is in you. Do right by Violet, and I will allow you to get a job. I will buy you a car so you can be a proper husband to her.”
It was then that I noticed Violet was fully dressed. He wasn’t going to make me have sex with her today. He probably wanted to see if she could get me hard, and I was ashamed to say she had. But more than that, I knew he was fucking with my head.
Still, I needed to buy myself time. “I’ll marry Violet.”
“Excellent.” He clapped his hands as if he’d given me a choice and I answered properly. “We’ll have the ceremony Sunday.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, blinking my eyes to dry up my tears. I had to pull myself together and make Basil believe I was on board with his sick plans.
“Now ask her.” He put a ring on Violet’s finger.
I connected my gaze with my sister’s. Her green eyes were red and swollen. She must have continued crying while I was unconscious.
I could tell she didn’t want any of this either. How could she? She was only fourteen, the same age I’d been when the women started entering my bedroom.
Basil and Juniper were two mentally ill people.
“Violet, you know I care about you, right?” I asked her, gently cradling her face in my hands. “And I’d never hurt you?”
“Yes,” she softly replied.
“Will you marry me, and I promise to always love and protect you?”
“Yes, Brent. I’ll marry you.” More tears fell on my face.
“Good. Now kiss her,” Basil said in a firm voice.
And I obeyed, giving Violet a chaste kiss.
I meant what I said, I would protect her from her fucked up parents. It felt like my feet were held to the fire. I needed to take action before I was forced into taking Violet’s virginity.
I wouldn’t do it.
I couldn’t do it.
I’d die before I hurt her.
There would be no ceremony on Sunday. Nothing and no one would stop me from escaping this cultish household on Saturday.
I just needed to figure out how to get the other kids to somewhere safe so I could burn the place to the ground with Basil and Juniper in it.