Slacker's Revenge Lena nods, sighs in exasperation as her father again goes over the tasks expected of her while he and her mother are out of town for their annual trek to the equine dentistry convention. "I got it, I got it!" She pushes away from the breakfast table, kisses him on the cheek as she grabs her backpack from the counter, "I've only lived here my whole life, Daddy-I know what needs to be done." Leaning to kiss her Mom, she smiles, "Drive carefully-I love you both." "Keep your brother out of trouble!" her Dad yells after her as she strides out the door, across the yard. She laughs, kicking up dirt at the chickens near her car. "AND DON'T HARASS THE CHICKENS!" "Oops." Lena giggles as she climbs into her car. Waving out her window, she pulls down the long drive, only a few minutes late for school, for a change-she is dangerously close to taking a suspension for tardiness in her last semester of high school. Provided the cows aren't camping on the driveway, she'll actually be almost on time. Alan sits on his bed, sulking. "She's only 10 months older than me, how come she gets to be the big fucking boss?" He grabs the framed family portrait from his bedstand, scrapes Lena's face off with his thumbnail. "Fucking bitch, fucking bitch I hate you!" He listens as their parents finish packing the car, tears of frustration brimming. He ignores their calls of goodbye, their admonitions to do his chores from the bottom of the stairs, gives a finger to the sound of them driving off. Reaching under his bed, he pulls out the box, rolls a joint as he fingers through another bondage mag. Settling on a picture of a woman bound tightly, jaw spreader trapping her mouth open as cum dribbles from her lips, he reaches into his pants, begins to masturbate as he drags deeply. Lena returns home in the afternoon, frowns as the chickens crowd around her. She scans the ground, then looks at the still full bucket of feed hanging from the porch hook. Angrily, she slams into the house. "ALAN? Alan, get your fucking ass down here NOW!" Alan emerges from his room, descends the stairs slowly, his expression sullen, eyes red, obviously stoned. "Why didn't you feed the chickens?" Lena is scowling, hands on her hips. "I didn't feel like it." Alan glares, daring her to take it further. "I don't give a shit what you FELT like doing-Christ, Alan, I even filled the fucking bucket for you! All you had to do was stand there and throw feed. Are you too stupid to do even that?" "Fuck off, cunt." Alan mumbles, pushing past her toward the kitchen. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Lena catches him by the arm, jerks him back, "What did you say to me?" Her tone is low, dangerous. "They're just stupid fucking birds." Alan mutters, backing down. "Yes, exactly! They are stupid fucking birds, and they rely on US to take care of them!" "Whatever." Alan yanks his arm free, stalks into the kitchen to find something to munch on. "Jesus, what a waste you are-it amazes me you find the motivation to fucking breathe." Lena stomps back outside, grabs the bucket. Lena awakens early Saturday morning, stretching deep before sitting up. She smiles as her dog bounds onto the bed, licks her face enthusiastically. "I know, Bandi, I know." She hugs him, scratching his chest as he twists and turns. "Time to get to work, is it?" Bandi bounces off the bed, skittering across the wood floor excitedly as she climbs out of bed, begins pulling on her clothes. It's 4:30 am-work doesn't wait, not even on weekends. Standing outside Alan's room, she shouts him awake, grumbling at his reticence. "Please, Alan, just this one morning, would you get your stupid shit together and help me out here?" They enter the henhouse together, reaching under the sleepy hens, grabbing the still warm eggs and placing them carefully into the basket. Alan squeezes behind her, then pauses, his erection pressing against her buttocks as he reaches around, grabs one of her breasts roughly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Lena jerks away, her hand flying, smacking Alan hard. "Don't you ever, EVER touch me like that again or I'll tell Mom and Dad faster than you can say, 'Oh, shit, foster care!'" Alan sneers, eyes cold, "You're going to be sorry for that one, bitch." "Not as sorry as you'll be when Dad calls tonight." Lena turns abruptly, leaves the henhouse. She pauses outside, takes a deep breath, blinking back the tears. She laughs at herself, at the adrenaline rush that's set her hands to trembling. "Don't be afraid of him," she mutters as she sets off toward the house, "he's just a punk-ass punk, don't be afraid, he doesn't have the balls." They eat breakfast in silence, Alan simmering, Lena nervous. Finishing, Alan pushes away from the table, starts for the door. "Put your dishes in the sink, please." "Fuck off, bitch." Alan slams out the door, walks to the barn as Lena watches. "Well, at least he's going to get some work done. Isn't that a sign of the apocalypse?" Sighing, Lena clears the table, holding the plates down for Bandi to lick before she rinses them in the sink. Alan pulls open the trap, climbs down into the cold storage cellar, spade clutched in one hand. Reaching up, he flicks on the light, then closes the trap behind him. Jumping down off the ladder to survey the room, he nods approvingly. Large, squarish, floor of soft dirt, bare bulb not quite illuminating the far corners. Smiling, he grabs a fruit tarp, spreads it out. Thrusting the spade into the floor, he begins shoveling furiously, tossing each spade full of dirt onto the waxed canvas. He pants hard as he works, unaccustomed to such labor. But he is driven, obsessed, refusing to stop for even a moment to catch his breath. His drive pays off, hours of digging creating a three foot deep, four foot long, two foot wide trench in the floor. He grunts as he grabs the edges of the tarp, drags it to the darker side of the room and dumps the fresh dirt in a pile. Lena pauses outside the barn, head cocked as she listens. Is that shoveling? She leans into the barn, calls Alan's name. No response, and the shoveling sound has stopped. She stands still, listens a bit longer, wondering if she'd really heard it at all. Shaking her head, she walks to the cow barn-she's late with the milking, their father would be beside himself if he were there. Alan stands at the base of the ladder, twisting, struggling with the head of the spade until it comes loose, leaving him with a five foot pole. Leaning back, he pulls out his pocket knife, begins whittling the ends-first one, then the other, leaving them pointed sharply. Climbing into the trench, he sets to work driving one end foot-deep into the floor. Rising, he tests it, tugging on it. Satisfied, ascends the ladder, whistling happily. Going into the tack room, he yanks opens the closet, pulls out two sets of pawing hobbles. Cuffs strong as steel, but well padded to protect delicate fetlocks, detachable chain linking them in pairs. Digging through their father's gear, he pulls out a full mouth speculum, often called a jaw spreader. Grabbing a length of rope, he returns to the cellar, looping the rope over a ceiling pulley. Normally, the pulleys were used to hold perishables up off the floor. Placing the hobbles and speculum on a crate, he rises from the cellar again, closing the trap behind him, tossing a bit of hay over it to hide its recent usage. Lena sits on the porch rail, squinting as she watches Alan tugging, yanking on a length of old piping, breaking off a four foot chunk. "Alan, what the hell are you doing?" Alan looks up, smiles brightly. "Shop project-it was due yesterday, but I didn't go in." "Whatever-don't kill yourself." Lena hops down from the rail, wanders into the house to make lunch. "Oh, I don't plan to." Alan's lip pulls up cruelly as he slings the pipe over his shoulder. Alan squints, pulls down the eye guard as he lights the torch. The pipe held firmly in the vise, he starts work, welding the metal rings-one in the center, one at each end of the pipe. He hums happily, working with care. Turning off the torch, he tests the welds. He smiles broadly, congratulating himself on his craftsmanship. Lena watches Alan suspiciously over lunch. His mood is strangely buoyant, giddy-a marked change from his demeanor of late. When asked, he tells her that he's looking at life in a whole new way. She nods, confused, but not wanting to ruin this rare good mood. She goggles, stunned as he clears the dishes, begins rinsing them at the sink. "I'm going to take a nap," Lena smiles tentatively, "Is that okay?" "Sure, sis, I'll hold down the fort" Alan grins, "sweet dreams!" Lena climbs the stairs, shaking her head in amazement. A miraculous day, for sure. Alan rises, takes Bandi by the collar, leading him out the door. A bounce in his step, he herds the dog into the barn, over to the trap. Opening it, he wrestles with the dog, finally succeeding in shoving him through. The dog yelps loudly as he hits the dirt floor, limping miserably as Alan grabs a pitchfork and descends the steep ladder. Bandi's whines become screams in the dank cellar. Alan pulls the tarp over the trench, eying the protruding pole for a moment before shrugging, dragging Bandi's wheezing form to the bottom of the ladder. Climbing out, he takes a deep breath, then runs from the barn, shouting for Lena. Lena runs ahead of Alan, dashing to the trap, her eyes widening in horror as she sees Bandi's still body below. "You stupid fuck, you know not to leave this open!" Climbing down fast, she steps over Bandi, then kneels beside him. "He's still alive, he's still breathing-help me get him up the ladder!" Alan climbs down, closing the trap behind him. Lena stares up at him, confused, enraged. "What the fuck are you-" Alan brings his knee up hard, cracking Lena in the jaw. Lena falls back, stunned, rolling on her belly in a dazed attempt to crawl away. Grabbing a pair of pawing hobbles, Alan descends upon her, his full weight pinning her on her stomach as he grapples with her hands, dragging them over her head and affixing the hobbles tightly. Lena squirms beneath him, her cries reedy as he crushes her against the dirt floor. Climbing onto her back, he sits firmly on her shoulders, one hand grabbing her hair, yanking her head back as the other jams the speculum into her mouth. Pressing the sides, he grinds her mouth open wide, securing the strong leather straps behind her head. Rising, Alan pauses a moment, laughing as Lena pushes herself up to her knees, bound hands tugging at the speculum, unable to reach the back to work the clasps. Turning, he grabs the other pair of pawing hobbles, unhooks the cuffs so they are free from each other. Attaching them to either end of the pipe, he strides back, kicking her in the ass hard, sending her sprawling on her belly in the dirt. Straddling her legs, he secures first one ankle, then the other. Standing, he surveys his work. Lena's wordless screams inflame him, his cock rigid, straining against the buttons of his jeans. He rubs his crotch absently, his eyes devouring her desperate struggles, her wordless pleas Lena writhes helplessly, her eyes wide with horrified comprehension as she strains against the hobbles. She squeals, thrashing as Alan once again straddles her, his knife slicing through her shirt, her bra, then moving on to her jeans, panties. Lena sobs in humiliated terror as he pulls the shredded remains of her clothes away. Bending down, he sinks his teeth into her soft, round ass, laughing as she bucks beneath him. "How sorry do you think I can make you, cunt?" He moves to her upper thigh, bites again. Lena's cries are thick, teary, her struggles frantic as his fingers move between her legs, to her vulnerable asshole and pussy. She twists desperately as his calloused fingers push into her tight hole, his thumb grinding into her virgin ass. "Oh, sis, I think I can make you more sorry than you ever imagined." Grinning, he unbuttons his jeans, his cock leaping out, huge and eager. "Oh, yes, I think I can make you the sorriest collection of fuck holes ever born." Alan kneels between her trapped legs, shaking hand guiding his swollen tool to her asshole. Lena's hips jump, jerk violently as he pushes, relentless, into her resisting hole. Her screams take on a deep, ripping tone as he drives his full 9 inches into her protesting ass. Moaning, his thrusts are deep, uneven, his eyes bright and wide with amazement as he rapes her. Lena grunts under the punishing strokes, breath slammed from her with each bitter thrust. Groaning loudly, Alan cums quickly, laughing giddily as he fills her torn ass with his hot jizz. Lena moans thickly, her knees jerking, trying to pull up under her as Alan withdraws. Alan crawls forward, kneels before her head, his cock glistening and still half-erect, bobbing before her stricken eyes. "What, cunt? You want up, you want to be on your knees?" He sneers, grabbing her long blonde hair, dragging her to her knees as he stands. "That's fine-I've been wanting you on your knees for a long fucking time now." Lena sobs hoarsely, fights to turn her head as Alan grasps the sides of the speculum firmly, forcing her mouth over his cock. "Oh, yeah, sis," Alan groans as his cock slides past her trapped lips, over her tongue to press lightly against the back of her throat, "Oh, yeah-I'm gonna fuck your face until I'm hard again, and then I'm gonna rape that uppity pussy of yours." Lena whines, blue eyes huge, pleading as he begins thrusting in her mouth. Before long, he is hard again, his cock gagging her, cutting off her air as he shoves deeply, opening her throat. Lena brings her hands up, pushing frantically against his legs, trying to push him back enough to draw breath. Laughing cruelly, Alan brings a foot up, stomping her manacled wrists back to the ground. He stands on the chain between them, increasing the force of his thrusting as Lena gags, her throat constricting around his meat, working it as she writhes. Her feet drum the dirt floor desperately, kicking up puffs of dust in their wake. "Ah, shit!" Alan shouts, his cock twitching, jerking in her throat, spilling his sour cum into her tortured face. "Ah, hell, didn't mean to do that." He looks down at her tearstained face, grins as some of his cum spills out the corners of her stretched wide mouth, trickles down her chin. Lena retches, drags in desperate, pained breaths as Alan withdraws. Lena sobs breathlessly as Alan drags her face up. "Oh, you look so pretty-just like a girl in a magazine!" Shoving her to the floor, Alan climbs up on the crate, catches his breath. Lena lies still, whining, sobbing as his cum cools on her face, picking up dirt to make a mucky mixture. Her eyes roll up, she coughs painfully. How could this be happening? Alan jumps down, walks over to her trembling form. Jerking her onto her back, he glares. "Bet you wish you'd been nicer to me, doncha cunt?" Lena struggles to talk, to tell him how sorry she is. But the speculum renders her words unintelligible. Bending, he grabs the pipe holding her legs wide, drags it back until it is pressing against her mouth. Humming, he takes a connector from his pocket, secures the center pipe ring to the speculum. Grasping her hands roughly, he repeats the process, securing her hands to the pipe. He stands back, admires the scene-Lena's legs make a perfect V, her pink pussy and sore ass held up off the floor. Yanking the belt from his jeans, he raises it high, bringing it stinging across her upturned pussy. Again and again he strikes her, lashing her thighs, ass, pussy. Lena's pained cries are muffled by the bar, and Alan laughs in amazement as his cock once again begins stirring. "Sis, you inspire me." Alan drops to his knees, begins pinching and scratching her pussy as his rod stiffens. Lena screams, her pussy jumping and bobbing before him. Bending down, he buries his face in her pussy, breathing deeply before he takes her clit in his teeth, bites down hard. Lena's shrieks become high, shrill, almost animal like as her hips pitch violently. "I knew you'd love that." Alan grasps his now fully erect cock, pushes roughly into her tight, dry pussy. Digging his fingers into her legs, he yanks her back, burying his full length into her. Leaning over her, he starts plunging violently, slamming into her like a man possessed. She grunts harshly as he pumps, whining as the gravel of the floor is ground into her back. Alan pants, amazed at his newfound stamina. "I could fuck you forever, cunt," he growls, "I'm nowhere near cumming." Reaching up, he captures a jouncing breast, digs his nails in as he pummels her pussy. Lena squeals weakly, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he begins twisting her nipples, moaning at the way each little hurt makes her pussy clamp down harder. "You want me to cum now, cunt?" Alan puts his full weight behind his thrusts, reveling in the sharp, whiny grunts they elicit. "Want me to cum? BEG ME." Lena groans, her eyes heavy lidded, glassy as he fucks her into the floor, pinning her pussy like a butterfly on a board. "I can go all night, you fucking bitch-beg me to cum inside you!" Lena whines, her stretched lips move in a garbled plea. "That's a good whore," Alan picks up the pace, slamming fast, furious, "I knew you wanted it, look at you beg, you fucking slut." Shouting, he collapses on her, spewing his hot jizz into her battered pussy. Groaning, he takes a breast in his hand, "I sure do love you, Lena," he smiles lazily, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh beneath her rosy nipple. He sighs as she screams, her pussy clenching down on his softening cock. "You're a terrific fuck." Rising, he pulls his pants up, fetches an end of the rope hanging from the pulley. "I'm hungry. Let's go to the house, get some chow." Lena's eyes slowly rise to his, sickly hopeful. Alan laughs, "Oh, I'm sorry-did I say 'let's'?" I didn't mean that-you're obviously tied up." Giggling, he kneels next to her head, unhooks her hands and feet from the speculum. Lena whines desperately, pleading wordlessly for Alan to release her. Ignoring her, he wraps the rope around the chain between her wrists, knotting it securely. Dragging her to the tarp, he lifts it, enjoys her screams, her newfound strength as she thrashes in terror at the sight, struggles to free herself from his grasp. "Hush, sis-you're gonna love this almost as much as I will." Grabbing the rope, he begins hauling her up, staring in wonderment at her jerking, twisting form. Wrapping the rope around one hand, he braces himself even as he steadies her. Brows knitted with concentration, he guides her down, sliding the sharpened pole through the center link in the pipe between her ankles. "See, it's a guide," Alan murmurs, amazed that his handiwork is actually doing as intended. "That way, you can't squirm or twist away, everything is lined up just perfectly no matter what you do." He smiles to himself, pride of workmanship a new experience for him. Lowering her slowly, he thrills to her gasp, her choked scream as the pole enters her raw pussy. "I want you to imagine what will happen if you manage to work your hands free." Carefully, he lowers her further, stopping as her screams turn from terror to pain. "And there we go," he ties the rope off, stepping into the trench for a better look. "Oh, yeah-and you said I was a moron." Stepping behind her, he twists rope through the leather straps on her head, jerks sharply, forcing her head back painfully, leaving her staring at the ceiling as he secures the rope to the pipe holding her ankles wide. "That way, if you do get loose, it'll go through your mouth instead of the top of your head." Walking to the ladder, he turns back, considers her carefully-mouth spread wide, head wrenched back, arms straining above her, breasts jiggling with each short cry she makes. Her toes curling, butt clenching, the wooden pole buried in her sweet, blonde pussy. "Sure hope that tie holds, sis-we still have six days to get to know each other better. It'll be your last six days, so I hope you get your stupid shit together and enjoy it." He laughs, turns off the light and ascends the ladder, slamming the trap and locking it, leaving her dangling in the dark. Alan digs through the fridge, his appetite huge. He is all smiles, practically jaunty. He looks out the window at the darkening sky, marvels at how fast time goes by when you're truly enjoying yourself. He jumps when the phone rings, then his expression relaxes and he lifts it from it's cradle. "Hello? Oh, hi Dad!" He grins, grabs a cold drumstick from last night's fried chicken, takes a huge bite.. "Hmmm? Oh, yeah, Dad, everything's great . . . Lena? I dunno, she's hanging around down at the barn, I think." Stifling his giggles, he cracks a beer, takes a drink to wash down the chicken. "Huh? Oh, yeah! Yep, all done, Dad, not a thing to worry about!" He listens, nodding, his grin spreading wide as he reaches down, rubs his cock through the denim of his jeans. "You bet, Dad-me and Lena, we are getting along just great! I feel like we're really understanding each other for the first time." He closes his eyes, works the head of his cock with his thumb. "What? No, I think Lena's going to work the horses tomorrow. Yeah, Dad, don't worry-we're being very good to each other. You'd be blown away, I think Yeah, love you too, Dad." Hanging up the phone, Alan stands for a moment, moaning softly as he rubs himself hard again. Stepping to the drawers, he rifles through until he finds what he's looking for. Holding up the package of skewers and corkscrew, he closes the drawer softly. "Very good, and about to get even better-and funny, I don't feel a bit sorry, you bitch." Grabbing a box of matches, he turns, heads back out the door.
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