Date: Wed, 6 Sep 2023 17:09:46 +0000 From: Jane Smith Subject: Slippery Slope - Rock Bottom Chapter 4 This is the second installment in the Slippery Slope series, and I have one more planned. This installment features M/F/f, F/f, M/f, M/M/F. The last chapter includes beast which will be posted separately in the Bestiality section. You can contact me at allseeingpigeon@outlook.com. I read all emails, though I may not respond. These are not checked every day so be warned. I'm on Wickr as allseeingpigeon. I may not be in your time zone. Please bear that in mind if you don't get a response. Please do not send pics without asking first. This story is fantasy and has no basis in reality. Nifty is a vast, invaluable resource, so why not make a financial contribution at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We waited a day or two. Just long enough for the worst of the red on my ass to fade. We were still in holiday season, so we had Tilly at home for a little while longer. We followed the same ritual as usual, only this time, it was tinged with a level of excitement I don't think I'd ever felt. What we were about to do... it wasn't just me and my husband anymore. Hank was about molest his granddaughter, and we were going to help him. I drugged Tilly's drink. Watched her fall asleep on her father's lap. Trailed after him, Henry behind me -- his hand linked with mine -- as we went upstairs. Henry laid our daughter almost reverently on our bed, as if he was laying out a gift for his dad. Hell, that was exactly what he was doing. "Take her clothes off," I told Hank, trailing my fingers down his back. I didn't miss his erection, nor my husband's, either. "Do it slowly." I leaned in and murmured in his ear, just loud enough for my husband to hear. "I want you to touch her. Feel her naked skin." He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me, hard, plundering my mouth with his tongue. "You're fucking perfect," he said hoarsely. "You ever divorce this asshole, I'll marry you like a shot." Despite -- or perhaps because of -- the filth we were about to indulge in, his words felt like a true thing. I pressed a much more chaste kiss to his lips, then gently pushed him toward the bed. I perched on the edge of the far side of the bed. My husband sat in the corner chair. If Hank invited us to join in, we would; but tonight was for him. A late Christmas gift. Maybe I should have tied a bow around my daughter's neck. Today Tilly was wearing a knee-length denim skirt and a cute pink T-shirt. She'd chosen long white socks, one of which was still up to her knee, the other having slipped to her ankle. Hank got up on the bed and knelt in front of her, thighs spread, her little feet between his open legs. He touched the leg with the fallen sock. Slid his fingers over her smooth skin. Curled his fingers around her calf. Squeezed. "Limits?" he growled. I shared a look with my husband. "We're rougher than we should be. Don't leave bruises or bite marks." My pussy throbbed. Hard. He wanted to hurt her, I could see it on his face. And I was going to let him. He trailed his fingers over her skirt. Up over her T-shirt. He closed his hand gently around her throat. His hand looked so fucking big against her tiny neck, the bridge of his fingers nudging her chin up. He squeezed... then released. Not even long enough to leave a red mark, but he was breathing hard. He looked at Henry. Looked at me. We stared back, saying nothing. Hank took our silence as the acquiescence it was. It seemed to unlock something inside him. He undressed his granddaughter with quick, economical movements, tugging her skirt down, pulling her T-shirt off over her head and arms. Stripping her down to her panties and socks. I licked my lips. Hank leaned in and played with her tiny nipples, tweaking and plucking them until they stood up. He got his hand around her throat again. The squeeze this time was longer. Harder. Not choking, but applying definite pressure. When he pulled his hand away, he lightly slapped her face. My clit throbbed so hard I had to squeeze my legs together. I licked my lips. He pulled her panties down, tugging them off over her legs. Leaving her in nothing more than her socks, one around her ankle, the other still up at her knee. She looked fucking delicious. Hank stepped off the bed and stripped out of his clothes, sliding back up to her. He ran his hands all over her, flicking her nipples, testing the tightness of her cunt with his fingers. He rammed his finger in to the second knuckle, working it around to get some moisture. He rubbed her tiny clit with his thumb. I looked at my husband. He was watching his dad molest our daughter. His fly was unzipped and his cock was out. He wasn't touching it. It was very hard. Twitching. Staring at his father. I don't think I'd ever seen him so turned on. Hank spread Tilly's legs wide, then pushed them back up and hooked them over his shoulders. He fisted his fat cock. It seemed so obscenely huge between her legs, so impossibly big as he brought it closer to her bare little pussy. Would he get it inside her? He lined his cock up and pushed. Slowly. Working it back and forth, coating himself in juices. He spat on his dick, spat in her pussy, again and again. Eventually he buried himself all the way inside her. He loomed over the unconscious child, still braced on his knees. Henry was on the edge of his seat now. Copious precum oozed out of his dick, dribbling down his shaft. Hank drew his hips back and snapped them forward, driving into Tilly's pussy hard enough to move her. He slammed into her again and again, forcing his cock deeper, grunting and moaning like an animal. Harder. Faster. I kept my mouth shut, grinding my thighs together, frantic to get some friction on my clit but unwilling to take my eyes off the depravity unfolding in front of me. Hank's strokes were becoming more and more uncoordinated. He snarled. On the edge of cumming. He grabbed Tilly's throat again. Squeezed hard. Pounding away. He turned his head and made eye contact with his son, the ultimate act of cuckolding. Hank roared through his orgasm. Droplets of sweat splattered my daughter's unconscious body. As his orgasm waned, he let go of her throat and pulled his cock out, the last splash of cum dribbling over her swollen pussy lips. A faint red hand print marred her slim throat. No one said anything. Hank sat back, panting, and armed sweat off his forehead. He reached for her panties. He wasn't done. He put them back on, sliding that white, innocent little scrap of cloth over her feet and back up her thighs. He tugged them into place. His cum made an instant wet patch in the crotch. Fuck, he was nasty, but he still wasn't done. He clicked his fingers at Henry. That was it. He didn't move, didn't get up, didn't say anything. My husband moved like a zombie, shuffling across the carpet with his pants open and his dick out. He knelt awkwardly on the bed, as close to Tilly's side as he could, and frantically jerked his cock. It took less than thirty seconds. He shot all over her panties, her belly, her chest. He buried his face between her legs and slurped up his own cum. He hooked the crotch of her panties aside and sucked out his dad's cum, too. The noise was beautifully obscene. It was too much -- I flipped my skirt up, rammed two fingers in my cunt, and fucked myself to a quick, hard orgasm.