Seven Brothers of Sin

I can imagine what this looks like. Sweet teen girl, a virgin not long ago, now sandwiched between two giant alpha males, one dick in her puss and one dick in her ass, semen spilling in great goopy runs between our bodies. Oh yeah, not a sight for any mother to see. Sorry about that Marsha. Cover your eyes with your hands, if that helps.

But Macy’s in a panic.

“Oh god!” the girl screams now, trying desperately to scramble free. But there’s no way. She’s literally pinned by two cocks in both her holes, stuck like a pig on a stick. So the girl shuts her eyes, pretending like it’s gonna go away.

But it’s not going away, not without some magic at least. So my brother and I pull out in a rush, thick shafts coated in superglue. Moving like ninjas, we scramble into our jeans as Marsha goes ballistic, screaming for her husband.

“Jim!” comes that banshee wail. “Jim!”

But she takes a deep breath and turns on Macy, eyes like burning coals.

“You ungrateful lazy little whore!” comes a scream, spittle flying from her mouth, splattering my leg.

Macy tries to hide under the blankets but her mother swoops over and snatches them away, exposing her daughter’s body drenched in male cum.

“Look at you, allowing these men to see you like this, to treat you like some … some … prostitute! You fucking slut! Saying you didn’t want to go back to school! It was because of this, wasn’t it? You’ve been letting the boys next door fuck you silly!”

The brunette begins to shiver and cry as Jim Jones runs in, half-asleep still.

“What’s going on here?” he demands, rubbing his eyes.

But then they go wide when he sees me and Will in only our jeans with his daughter nude on the bed, shaking and sobbing.

“What the hell?” he grunts from surprise more than anything. I’m sure any father seeing his daughter naked with two men in the room would be startled as all fuck.

“She did it!” screams Mrs. Jones. “Your daughter was fucking these two men when I came in! I caught them red-handed! Whore! Whore! Whore!”

It’s like a scene from The Handmaid’s Tale where the handmaids chant at a victim, pointing and accusatory. Totally unnecessary.

“That’s enough,” I grind out, stepping forwards. “She’s not a whore.”

“Says one of the men who just had his fat cock inside her!” Mrs. Jones screams, literally frothing at the mouth now. “Whore! Whore! Whore!”

Shit, this can’t keep going. Macy’s cowering on the bed now, only semi-covered by a thin sheet. We have to get her out of here, and evidently my brother has the same thoughts.

Because Will grabs a robe from her dresser and wraps the girl in it protectively.

“You’re fine,” he rumbles to the trembling brunette, tears sliding down her cheeks uncontrollably. “You’re gonna be fine.”

But Mrs. Jones is on a roll.

“Whore!” she screams again, still pointing. “Whore! Whore! Whore!”

God, does she know any other words? Besides, this is a fucked-up way to treat your daughter, your only child at that. Seriously, shut up for a minute and see what Macy has to say.

But Marsha Jones is too far gone. Her eyes roll wildly, the muscles in her neck tight and strained, arm stiff as she stares and points.

“Whore!” she screams again.

That’s it. That’s the end of this.

“Get her out of here,” I growl at my brother.

He nods and sweeps Macy into his arms, pushing past her parents as Marsha continues her robotic chanting. It’s like a devil has taken over her body, requiring an exorcist.

Will pounds down the steps and out the door, my massive form following in their wake. Marsha seems to snap out of it somewhat, but not in a good way.

“If you walk out of here, Macy Lynn Jones, don’t you think you can come back!” she screams shrilly, not caring if the entire neighborhood hears. “Don’t think you can bring that nasty business back into my house! You’re the spawn of the devil, with evil between your legs! Repent now or never return!”

That’s too much. First, there’s no need to be so dramatic, like this is a horror movie or something. Really? “Repent now”? “Evil between her legs”? “Spawn of the devil”? More like Macy’s her own flesh and blood.

Second, the Joneses have been on their daughter’s ass all summer, telling her she’s wasting her time with cooking, that her dreams are worth shit. They devalue this incredible female, and to me, that’s unforgiveable.

So I grunt, turning nastily to face her parents as Will loads the trembling female into our car.

“Shut the fuck up,” is my raging roar. “Shut the fuck up, or I swear ….” comes my bitten-off threat. I want to do all sorts of nasty things, but this isn’t the time. Already lights are turning on in neighboring houses, and I’m sure someone has their cellphone pointed our way.