Garrimone seated himself next to her on the silk upholstered loveseat, his corpulent form
consuming most of the antique setteé. He put his arm around the girl, drawing her
to him.
“A toast,” he purred, “to old adversaries, to new friends, and secret loves
forever.”
She said nothing, cradling the heavy glass.
“Come now, dear, let’s get comfortable, shall we? Come to papa….”
He set their glasses aside and let his huge hands roam across her top. He leaned
down and brought her mouth to his, kissing her forcefully. Just then Phil’s scream
shattered the seductive setting, piped from a nearby speaker. Garrimone withdrew briefly
and his eyes half-closed in an expression of deep appreciation.
“No doubt your daddy is feeling the pressure of my mighty hand, my pet. I want you
to feel it as well.”
He shoved his digits down her low-cut dress and began pawing her tits, plucking them
from the silk, squeezing the nipples, sucking on them. He pushed her down on her back,
into the soft cushions. He put his hands to the fly of his silk pajamas and undid a few
buttons, liberating his pulsating cock.
“I want to take you…here…now!” the old man demanded. “To stop me, you only need to
encourage your father to assist me.” He kissed her again and undid her dress only part way
when she refused. “He’s listening…feel free to plead for his life at any time,” he
laughed.
She winced and shook her head.
“I want you to strip for me. Entice me,” Garrimone ordered, stuffing his mouth with
a chocolate truffle from a candy dish and swishing the glass of Cognac luxuriously.
She stood and walked to the front of the fire, and then slowly began removing her
dress.
Garrimone’s hand moved to his cock and he began to stroke himself. Another maddened
cry came from the speaker system. He wondered how badly Phil wanted to die right now. He
stiffened even more at the thought.
Janice slowly removed her dress until her nude, nubile form was silhouetted before
the fire. Garrimone marveled at her beauty, and then ordered her to raise her arms and
back slowly against the marble hearth.
She silently obeyed. He heaved his portly body from the couch and strolled over to
her, panting lightly from the exertion, as his wide, wet tongue lapped furiously at her
tits, then traveled down her tummy, finally coming to rest on her pussy lips. He took a
small pair of handcuffs from the mantle and attached them to a decorative hook over her
head, then clicked them shut.
“Ah, the awesome power I hold, my dear, sweet Janice. Your father in such pain, a
pain I control with my own hand, while I live in luxury! Tell me you will help me
influence him and end his suffering.” Janice gave a soft moan from her lips, but she still
shook her head. She hated him, but her body was responding differently. She was once more
at Black Lodge, a victim and nothing more.
He drew back and stuck a poker into the embers of the fire, heating it slowly. He
then withdrew his penis once more and pressed into her. She jumped at the size of it. The
general pushed upwards and entered her wet little pussy, his cock plunging into her a good
eight inches or more. It made small, quick thrusting movements inside her. “First, I get
you all nice and hot,” he sighed.
Then, without warning, he pulled out, fiddling with the poker. “Then…I make you beg
for it. Beg for my cock, slut.” She almost did, she wanted to be fucked so badly. Anything
to take her from this awful place. She could easily pretend he was someone else.
That thought was quickly squelched as she opened her eyes to stare into his flabby,
double-chinned face, felt his bulbous belly, sheathed in the softest velvet and silk,
brushing against her. He was revolting.
“I’ll not beg you for anything,” she said evenly, meeting his gaze.
An inhuman look of hatred transformed him and he turned and grabbed the poker, it’s
end bright white, smoke tapering to the ceiling from the tip.
“You’ll beg me, bitch. You’ll scream for mercy!” He gripped the rubber handle and
brought the hooked, pointed end within inches of her left nipple. Even though the metal
wasn’t yet touching her flesh, it felt as if someone were holding her heaving bosoms to a
hot stove.
“No! God, no! Please...” she found herself babbling. He only smirked sadistically
and tapped the end of the rod on her nipple. She shrieked, writhing in the chains.
“You monstrous pig!” she screamed. He threw back his head and laughed deeply.
“I said: beg for my cock, or else….” He jammed the poker into the fire again,
unleashing a shower of sparks.
| 
