Buried to the hilt in Jeanette Mason's asshole, Bob's cock exploded another surge of jism.
"Gaaaah!" the woman cried.
The come made the length of her well-reamed ass-passage tingle with delight. She could feel the come washing around the thick shaft of the prick in her asshole, running down the backs of her thighs.
Jake was trying frantically to push away from the naked woman. His claws scrabbling on the slick linoleum of the kitchen floor, Red was trying to run at the two men, growling deep in his throat. Off balance from opening the kitchen door with her hands bound behind her back, Coe slipped, lost her balance, and fell down hard an her naked ass. Her tits joggled furiously up and down.
It was as if Jeanette's pussy had an unbreakable death-grip on the bearded man's prick. She felt the head pulsating far up inside her pussy as it delivered charge after charge of boiling come. The entire length of his prick was slimed with come. Jake's jism leaked from Jeanette's pussy to run down her legs and mingle with the come slobbering from her asshole.
Finally, with a bestial howl, Jake managed to shove away. Jeanette screamed as his cock was ripped, still spewing, from her cunt. Its lightning withdrawal triggered another fabulous orgasm in her jism-drooling pussy.
Red got his feet on the carpet and lunged. Barking, he jumped at Jake, jaws wide. Betsy and Jack yelled encouragement to the dog as it and the skinny fugitive went down in a tangle.
Bob was trying desperately to get his cock disengaged from his captive's asshole. He yanked it in short jerks from the flailing shitter, until once more just the head was trapped within the impossibly tight ring of her ass-chute. Unfortunately, in that position, the woman's asshole was applying excruciating pressure to the most sensitive part of the immense cock, and her struggles as she moved in the last throes of her ecstasy milked great gobs of come from the tip of his prick.
Finally Bob gave Jeanette a mighty shove in the small of the back. She hurtled forward onto all fours. Come leaked from her asshole. A trail of jism ran from the tip of Bob's big prick to the carpet.
"Help! Help! Goddamn, get him off me!" Jake had Red's collar in both hands, barely managing to keep the dog's powerful jaws from closing on his face. The dog's yellow teeth were inches from his eyes, and the animal's saliva dripped into his beard.
For a moment Bob stood indecisively. Then he lunged forward and gripped the dog's collar from behind, hauling the creature off his partner. Cursing, Jake leapt to his feet.
"What do you want me to do with him?" Bob asked. "There's a poker by the fire. I could beat his fucking brains in."
Wiping his face, Jake shook his head. "No, I like animals."
Coe sat by the door, slumped over with defeat. There was stark terror in her eyes as he came in. She shrank back from the open door.
He glared down at her. "That's right, missy. I'm going to deal with you, sure enough. Just wait'll I get back." Unmindful of his own nakedness, he went out, letting the screen door bang shut behind him.
Red was straining against Bob's grip on his collar. Following Jake's instructions, Bob picked up the big auto loading shotgun, holding it one handed. He backed up, dragging the dog with him, so that the muzzle covered Betsy, Jack, and the unbound Jeanette.
The older woman was lying on her side. Her naked body shook with sobs as the wild elation of her multiple climax flowed out of her along with the congealing jism that flowed from her cunt and asshole. She'd been raped while her children looked on – and she'd visibly, openly, and unashamedly enjoyed it! Humiliation mingled with a sudden desperate fear of what the future held for her and her offspring overwhelming her.
"Don't move, anybody," Bob said. Red was twisting his head now, trying to bite the redhead's hand. The tall, lanky man had an unhappy expression on his face. He'd never killed anybody, and his features plainly said he hoped he didn't have to start now.
The moments dragged on tensely. From outside came the sound of the Jeep's door opening, something heavy and metallic being dragged out, and the door being slammed shut again. A clinking sound approached the back door.
Jake came through the screen. He held several feet of thick chain and an open padlock. "This here's perfect," he said. His hand darted out and snagged Coe's auburn hair. She winced and cried out as he dragged her to her feet. "C'mon, cunt cakes. Time for you to take your medicine. Little girls oughtn't sic mean dogs on a body."
"Let me go!"
With the pain of her brutally pulled hair, some of Coe's defiance had returned. She tried to wrench free, but all it bought her was more pain and a few strands of red-brown hair torn from her scalp. She gave up resisting and stood up, her bare tits thrust proudly forward. Her nipples were full and fat, the same color as her mother's hair.
"What are you doing to my daughter?" Forcing herself to be calm, Jeanette asked the question sternly.
Jake ignored her. He marched the naked girl into the living room and flung her onto her back lengthwise, on the heavy coffee table. Coe yelped as her tailbone hit the hard oak, then put up a fight, scattering newspapers and magazines and smearing ink all over her pert ass. Jake snarled and slapped her viciously across the boobs. She gasped, fell back. Quickly, he ran the thick chain around her bound arms, wrapping her limbs together in the massive links, and then wound the chain around a leg of the butcher-block table. He threaded the padlock hasp through and shut it with a click of finality. Then he went into the kitchen.
Coe tried to sit up. She couldn't get her upper body higher than a forty-five degree angle. She looked at her mother. Her defiant haughtiness was gone. In its place was fear. She'd crossed Jake, who'd shown that it didn't take much to provoke him to savage reprisal. What would he do to a girl who'd set her dog on him?
Jeanette stared helplessly back at her daughter. There was nothing she could do. All her instincts told her to leap at Bob and try to overpower him, to wrest away the shotgun. She held herself in check. Bob didn't look as if he wanted to shoot anyone, but he also didn't look as if he knew bow to handle a shotgun – which meant that if so much as startled he'd probably let the thing off and shoot Jeanette – or, worse, one of her children. She sat helplessly, oddly thinking how lovely her daughter was. It had been a long time since she'd seen the girl nude.