Resistance - Chapter 14

Resistance

14. Wednesday

Robert made his way home slowly, painfully, as the sun sank below the horizon, limping and holding his sides.  He was pretty sure at least a few of his ribs were broken.  Still, it was a miracle at all to be alive, let alone freed from captivity.

The pistol had been levelled right at his face, hammer pulled back, the General’s finger tightened on the trigger, and she hadn’t even bothered to stand up, her thoughtful, gentle expression that of a matronly grandmother contemplating what to cook for dinner.  It was well known that she always performed all of the QZ’s executions personally, out of fidelity to whatever moral code she subscribed to.

In that moment, Robert, certain that his life was at an end, had felt nothing but a grim resignation fall over himself.

“Go ahead then, if you think you have to,” he’d said tersely.  “Anything I’ve done was for the sake of my family.  If I had it to do over again, I’d change nothing.”

And he waited then in suspended silence, thinking only about the unknown fates of his wife, daughter and son, hoping only for their happiness and well being.

But rather than firing and ending Robert’s life, the General suddenly bent her arm at the elbow instead, the gun’s muzzle pointed at the ceiling as she lowered the hammer slowly back to rest with a click.

“Aren’t you the brave one?” the General had asked quietly with a wry, slanted smile, shoving the pistol back into its leather holster, snapping the flap cover over it with an experienced hand.  And even then, Robert had kept his composure, despite being inches from death and abruptly pulled back from the brink.  “Seems a pity to splatter all of that knowledge inside of your head across the wall -- though I think you deserve it.

“I’m really not sure what to do with you, to be perfectly candid,” she said, wincing slightly as she rose to her feet, the soldiers around her standing to attention.  “And so, you’ll die a different day…” 

She strode out of the room, pausing at the doorway.  

“But we’ll be keeping an eye on you, Robert,” the General added.  “Don’t delude yourself into believing this…”  Her hand twirled about as she searched for the words.  “...familial devotion of yours… contributed to your respite.

“Rather, I think there’s still some value to be had out of you.  

“We’ll speak again.”

And that had been it.

In the General’s absence, he’d been questioned again, repeating his story, telling all he knew, they had beaten him a few more times, trying to extract various false confessions, and then abruptly and without explanation, they had seemingly simply had enough, apparently satisfied that Robert knew nothing more.

He had given them everything after all.  There was nothing else to tell.  There was that one nagging doubt, that worrying concern, that "what if..?" that lived in the back of his mind...  But why share that?  Why even discuss something that was so improbable and unlikely?

What would he have gotten for divulging that small, irrational fear?  Most likely the outright extermination of his family.  If they were lucky, perhaps the privilege to spend their remaining days in isolation cells.  Or ejection from the Quarantine Zone altogether, left to fend for themselves in the wild, amongst the infected.

As Robert hobbled painfully up the porch steps, he felt only relief at knowing that the ordeal was over, and a certain dour satisfaction that despite his treatment, he hadn't been broken.  They hadn't beaten him into submission, and now here he was, injured but free, returning home, about to reunite with his family, whom he had fought so hard to protect.

But when Robert opened the door, the sight before him wiped away those lifting feelings in an instant.

How, he wondered. 

How could I have been so stupid..?

It was the first thought that entered his head as he stood there numbly in the entrance, paralyzed by the scene in front him.

They were infected.  All of them.  Derek, recovered, a muscle bound hulk, lying on the floor.  His wife Christine straddling him, riding their son's cock, barely recognizable, appearing to have regressed twenty years in age, body fit and taut, enormous jugs bouncing up and down.  Meghan sitting on her brother's face, getting eaten out, looking more like Christine's younger vixen sister than her daughter.  In fact, they were a little difficult to tell apart, as they made out heavily, mouths open, tongues intertwined.

Robert groaned loudly, his hands going up to clutch his head, as if this were all some horrible nightmare he could will away.

Meghan looked over at that, breaking the passionate kiss with her sexy, slutty mother.

"Oh, look," she said serenely, unsurprised, eyes half closed in lust, humping her brother's face all the while. 

"Daddy's home..."

Robert slowly shut the door behind him.

***

Epilogue

Robert turned the page a bit too fiercely, tearing it slightly, as he sat reading the newspaper at the kitchen table, his breakfast untouched before him.  The plates and flatware clattered on the tabletop as it shook, a spoon falling to the floor.

"Guys, please," he said irritably.  "I've asked you not to do that at the breakfast table..."

"Sorry, Daddy, " Meghan moaned, bent over the table, cheek pressed up against it, squealing with pleasure each time Derek slammed into her from behind.  "It's just...  I can't help it, it feels so fucking good..."

Robert turned the page again, not comprehending anything he'd just read, doing his best to ignore the obscene noises of pleasure his daughter made, enthusiastically rutting with her older brother.

"Mmmmm...  fuck Derek, your big dick feels soooo good...  nnnghhh..."

Robert tried equally hard to ignore his own raging erection.

Just stay strong, he thought to himself, as the table rocked back and forth.  You'll find a way to fix this.  Somehow...

"Oh poor baby," a voice cooed in his ear softly.  "You always get so crabby when you have blue balls."  His wife behind him, her scent familiar but different, so pleasant and enticing, massaged his shoulders briefly, her ample bust pressed up against his back, before running her hands down his chest and then groping his crotch without preamble.  

"Oh, look at this," Christine purred.  "Don't worry, Mommy will take care of you..."

She disappeared underneath the table, and he felt her hands undoing his pants, pulling out his engorged member.  

“Christine, not here…  in front of the kids…”

It was useless to even try to dissuade her.  He sighed, putting the paper to the side as she rolled a condom down his shaft.  At least they were respecting his wishes.  For the time being anyway.

He had resolutely rejected Meghan's advances, but Christine was after all still his wife, altered though she was.  In the end, her nubile, hot body and wanton lust had won out, and he had given in, although he had been able to get her to understand that he wasn't going to do anything without protection.

He suppressed a groan as his wife's new plump lips wrapped around his latex covered cock, her tongue swirling up and down his length as her head bobbed up and down in his lap.  Robert tried to focus on that and ignore his daughter getting fucked right in front of him by his son, the inviting way Meghan's massive tits were pushed up against the table top as she gripped the edges of it, grunting loudly with unrestrained pleasure.

"Mom, you're so lucky, " Meghan panted, shoving her ass back to take to meet Derek's thrusts.  "Unngh..  Oh fuck yea, Derek...

"I wish I could suck Daddy's cock..."

Robert closed his eyes as Christine blew him in front of their mating offspring, trying to block them out.  She was working her hand up and down his tool in a twisting motion as she sucked, in a perverse, sensuous way she never had before...  before any of this had happened.  In a moment of weakness, a thought unbidden entered his mind from some deep, irrational, primitive part of himself that Robert would like to think did not exist.

I wonder how Meghan's mouth would feel..?

He shook his head, trying to banish the shameful thought, telling himself that his arousal had nothing to do with this virus infected slut in front of him that used to be his daughter, her full lips, wet, slightly parted as she moaned and panted, her flawless, beautiful face contorted with lust.  He realized she was looking hungrily, longingly at him too, perhaps the exact same thought in her own twisted, debased mind.

"Come on, Daddy…”

Robert felt his cock stiffen even more, threatening to burst at the involuntary idea of both of these toned, hot, busty, horny nymphos at his disposal, eager, willing, free to do with as he pleased.  

One of them is your daughter, his rational brain protested.

She’s not.  Not anymore, another voice in his head countered.  Now she’s just a carnal deviant, driven only by animal lust, willing to do anything for pleasure… with anyone…  

Robert looked at muscle bound Derek gripping his sister by her taut waist, ramming her hard, emphatically proving that point.

"You can have it if you want, Daddy," Meghan moaned, licking her lips lavisciously.  "You can fuck your little girl's hot teenage body...  anytime...  as many times as you want...

"My pussy's so wet... so tight...  I promise you'll like it..."

Robert was starting to lose control now, his hips lifting off the chair, cramming his cock down his wife's throat.  It has nothing to do with Meghan's filthy talk, he told himself.  It's just the blow job.  Just the blow job from your wife.

"You can have me and Mom at the same time…”  Underneath the table, Christine moaned in agreement around the mouthful of cock.  “Don't you want two dirty sluts sucking you off?"

Meghan was getting excited too, starting to twitch and shiver, enthusiastically fucking her brother.

"You don't want to see my pretty, slutty face covered in your cum?" Meghan's voice rose higher, with lust and indecent arousal.

Robert groaned loudly as he ejacuated into the condom, fucking his wife's mouth, his eyes locked with his daughter's sky blue ones, futilely telling himself all the while that it wasn't his daughter's enticing, luscious dirty mouth he wanted to be squirting into.  Dimly, he was aware that Meghan too was orgasming, keening loudly as her brother's big hard cock plowed in and out of her.

Resist, Robert thought, clenching his jaw as he clutched handfuls of his raunchy, horny wife's platinum blonde hair, pumping her mouth, squirting uncontrollably.  

Just resist.

Resist.

But it seemed like it was only a matter of time...  

-end