The Family Patriarch. Chapter 117

by Writing Shark

Valerie gets taken

It’s wonderful. It’s terrible. But more it is wonderful.

It’s not the same uniform as the Winters’ but it’s enough for Grace Hoover to turn her into the mindset of a submissive, chaste, cute, well-mannered maid. She thinks of Mister Winters, the man she will serve from now on. She feels terrible. The sex with Harold is terrible. But she imagines it is Mister Winters who fucks her hard, not Harold who makes love to her tenderly. Tender love is for the mistress, not her. The thought that this will probably be the last time she will decide freely about her actions almost makes her cry. But then the hulking body of Harold behind her turns into the massive, well-built and dominant body of Mr. Winters and all is fine. It’s horrible but that’s good.

In her head Grace no longer knows what is happening. She is confused and horny and the twitching of her pussy is milking her husband like a vacuum pump while she is already cheating on him in her head and with her soul. She feels terrible to feel so comfortable at the thought that somewhere in the city, probably at home with all his subjugated trophies, there is a man waiting for her. And at the thought that she will soon be bringing this man and his trophies – inwardly Grace knows that his daughters, young girls, like his wife, way more beautiful women, already way above her – that she will soon be bringing this man and his daughters food, cleaning their house and otherwise doing whatever they tell her to do, her cunt twitches so hard that Harol moans come from behind her.

Grace doesn’t feel the sperm he sputs into her, she and Harold agreed on condoms a long time ago, but Grace doesn’t want her holes sullied by her husband either. A blissful smile and a powerful, leg-trembling orgasm, all from the mere thought of the man, make Harold think he is pleasuring his wife. In reality, the woman he wanted to spend his life with is losing the final battle against herself, against a stronger man. In reality, his wife is submitting to a power that he does not understand, that he cannot comprehend.

But Grace understands what is happening. Clearly and distinctly. If she was confused before, she is now clear, as the orgasm flows through her body like healing water, the convulsions brought on by a man miles away from her shaking off the love and affection for her family like rotten apples from a healthy tree.

“I love you,” Grace whispers without looking at Harold. “Thank you.” Her husband is too exhausted to reply. Inside, Grace knows he had sex today. She feels it. A woman senses something like that. But she doesn’t care. The words are not directed at him and she knows, inwardly, who is responsible for the separation, the steady widening rift between her and Harold. And she is grateful to James.

I’m going crazy. I am going crazy. And it’s so good.

Her husband lies on her back while her flattened breasts warm the tabletop beneath her. She feels his penis inside her (Harold has a penis, James has a cock, a monster cock) grow small and unimportant. More unimportant than he already is.

Grace just looks forward to the next meeting. She is grateful to James, perhaps even loves him in her shattered brain, for the opportunity to be simple and carefree in his presence. The brutal sex, the humiliating uniform, the family dynamics, and the sacrifices she has to make are nothing compared to the feeling of doing something simple and being useful.

And the sex is incredible.

Grace Hoover has fought and lost, and she gratefully throws herself as a gift at the feet of a man who sees in her only three holes and the ability to serve.

Simple and welcome.

But before that, she has a job to do. The first and most important task in the service of the Winters family.

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It’s already late when Valerie Hoover steps through the door of her parents’ home. The party was great and she stayed longer than she was supposed to, but her parents already know that you can’t tell a young girl what to do. Valerie knows she should be doing homework. But she is too popular, too successful and too influential not to take advantage of it. It is practically a duty for the beautiful girl to show herself at parties and increase her popularity. The lustful looks of the boys, and some girls, and the envious looks of everyone else are really (she is sure of it) just incidental. The influence and the position as head cheerleader are what drives her. For that, Valerie Hoover can… and sometimes must… overstep her parents’ bounds.

But when she finds her mother in the kitchen, something is different. Valerie notices it immediately. No yelling or complaining from Grace. Very rarely she calls her ‘Mom’.

“Hello, darling,” the older woman greets her daughter. Valerie is on her guard. She notices her mother’s strange look, but can’t place it.

“I really wanted to come home earlier,” she says but tries to make her voice sound defiant. The fronts are drawn.

But Grace just ignores the fronts, even smiling with satisfaction and relief as Valerie grabs a large glass from the cabinet.

“Wait,” her mother says quickly, taking the glass from Valerie’s hand and hurrying to the refrigerator. “I’ll help you,” she says before her daughter can protest. The woman’s body covers the door but when she turns around she has a full glass in her hand. “Wodka.”

“Grace… what the…” But the mother shrugs and hands Valerie the glass. The daughter takes it hesitantly but then smiles. It’s about time her mother realized that her control over her daughter is imaginary. “Thank you.” She sips the glass while Grace leans against the counter with a blissful smile.

“I know I’ve lost the authority to deal with you,” she confesses. Valerie just nods, not knowing how to deal with the new situation. And takes another sip of alcohol. “And Harold never had what it takes to…keep both of us.” Valerie gulps down the second sip of alcohol and looks at her mother.

“What do you mean?” She blinks, a little longer than normal. Her hands begin to go numb.

“I love you, Valerie,” Grace confesses. “My daughter. You’re the best thing in my life.”

“Thangggs…” mumbles the girl. Something is not right.

“But I wasn’t enough to make you as good as I wanted you to be.”

“Whadddd?” Grace approaches her daughter, gently takes the glass from her weak hands and sets it down. She then hugs her daughter who leans against her body. Everything in her head begins to spin.

“I’m not strong enough. I’m weak. But he is strong.” Her voice sounds… happy. “He makes me better. And he can make you better, too.” The edges of her vision blacken but Valerie doesn’t get scared. She’s too tired for that. All she hears is her mother. “I’m doing this for you my child. Because I love you… And because I need it.” Then Valerie Hoover faints.