*Disclaimer: This story is a work of erotic horror fiction. The author does not condone the acts described. All characters are 18+. This story contains depictions of violence against women. Caution is advised.*
**The Pit**
**-Chapter 2-**
By 6:30, Heather still wasn’t home from work.
Roy ordered dinner. Chinese, Cashew Chicken for him and Beef and Broccoli for Ari. By the time it arrived forty minutes later, Heather was still missing. While they ate together in the living room, watching *Jeopardy,* Roy wondered absently if his wife was cheating on him. He decided it didn’t matter. Not after what he’d been through at the mall.
He looked over at Ari, still dressed in her white tube-tob and denim shorts, sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring at the TV. His hands shook as he lifted the fork to his mouth.
*What am I gonna do? Oh, Christ. I’m sick. I’m really sick. I need to see someone. I need to see a doctor. Tell them what’s going on in my head. Tell them…*
*And then what?*
Then what? They’d put him in a cell, or on a list, or both. They’d force-feed him pills for the rest of his life so that he never had a sexual thought again. They’d lock him up in a pale fog and throw away the key.
*Maybe that’s what I deserve.*
The front door clicked open, and Heather strode into the living room, purse hanging off the crook of her elbow. Her hair was messy, and there was a sheen of sweat across her forehead and neck.
“Ooh,” she groaned, peeling her heels off, “You will not *believe* the day I had.”
Roy blinked up at her, said nothing.
She smiled awkwardly. “Did you go to the mall?”
Ari nodded. “Dad got me a kick-ass outfit.”
Heather nodded. “Good. Good. Well,” she sighed, “I need a shower.” She hurried up the stairs.
Ari stood, took her plate into the kitchen and dumped it in the sink. She stopped back into the living room just as the end credits flashed over the Jeopardy stage.
Roy looked over at her.
“What is it, sweetie?”
Ari took a step closer. Her breasts quivered as she leaned forward. They hung before him as she bent over, placing her lips on top of her father’s head for a kiss.
“I just wanted to say Thanks,” she said. “For today. It was nice.”
“Yeah,” he croaked from a dry throat.
“Nobody called about Scout, huh?” She asked.
He shook his head, keeping his eyes on her breasts, thinking how *easy* it would be to tug the fabric down, to see them…Christ, he hadn’t seen her naked in over a decade. He wondered what she looked like. How she had grown. He wondered if she’d stop him, if she knew what he was doing. He wondered—
Then it hit him.
Scout!
That was it! That was when the bad thoughts started. After he had found that pit in the woods, the phallic sculpture looming over it like a forgotten god.
Something had gotten inside of him. Something had *entered him*. And it had cocooned his mind in horrible thoughts, in unbidden lusts…
Or had it?
Were they unbidden? Or merely…*released*…from some part of him he had always known existed, but managed to keep locked away…
“I’m gonna go call Kailey,” she said. “Her counselors let them use their phones at eight o’clock.” She bounced out of the living room and up the stairs.
Roy waited for several long minutes until he followed.
#
The shower ran in the master bedroom, water slapping heavily on the tile.
Roy thought, *I have time.*
He stood, silently, in his daughter’s doorway. In the threshold of the room she and her sister had shared for seventeen years. The door was mostly closed, and in the unlit hallway, he could stand and stare unseen.
She had changed into her new outfit, and was busy standing in front of her mirror, taking pictures with her phone. He doubted very much that she was sending these kinds of pictures to her sister. There was a boy on the other end of this, he was certain. Maybe more than one. She leaned forward, emphasizing her cleavage, pursed her lips into a kissy-face, and snapped another one. He had caught a glimpse of the bra’s size at the Forever 21 checkout counter. 34DD.
*There’s no going back, is there?* He asked the thing that had taken up residence in his mind. A pit unto itself, and with no bottom.
The pit didn’t answer.
He moved his hand to the crotch of his boxers and started rubbing in time to his daughter’s gyrations as she filmed a video of herself dancing to a rap song playing out of her phone.
*No,* he knew. The pit didn’t need to answer. There was no going back. There was no stopping it. Not anymore.
Between the blood rushing in his ears and the rap song and the sound of his own thoughts, he never heard the silence after the shower stopped running. He never heard the master bedroom door slide open across the carpet, or his wife’s footsteps as she approached him.
“Roy…” she hissed.
He spun.
His wife stood in the darkened hallway, wrapped in the DisneyWorld robe she had kept from their vacation two years ago. Things had been better, then.
His wife’s eyes, wide and fevered, moved almost reluctantly to her husband’s hand, massaging his cock through his shorts.
“Roy…what…what the FUCK are you doing?”
Roy panicked. “Heather, it isn’t…it’s not what you…”
“Get…the fuck…Oh…” tears welled in her eyes and she backed away. “Oh my god…how long…how long have you…”
“Heather. Stop.” He stepped toward her. She backed away. “Keep your mouth shut,” he growled.
“I’m calling the police,” she spat, and spun, ran into the room.
Roy bolted after her, grabbed her by the shoulders. They tumbled together into the room, falling at once.
Heather’s head cracked loudly against the heavy mahogany footboard of their queen-sized bed. She hit the floor, perfectly still, pinned beneath her husband’s weight.
Roy rolled her over onto her back, panting. The world went white around the edges of his vision. He leaned forward, felt breath from her nostrils.
*Not dead,* he thought.
He was almost disappointed.
From down the hall, Ari’s voice called, “Guys? Is everything okay?”
Roy stood up, legs straddling his unconscious wife, watched a deep purple bruise spread out from her temple. Her robe had spilled open, and Roy thought that she was beautiful. Ari had inherited the soft skin and ample breasts from her mother. But she wasn’t his anymore. He knew that. Not since he’d lost his job. And the dog. And her respect. She belonged to someone else.
And now, someone else was going to belong to him.
“We’re fine,” Roy called out. “Just tripped over the hamper.”
He knelt, rolled his wife back over onto her stomach. With the robe’s sash, he tied her hands behind her back. He pulled his belt from his khaki shorts he’d left lying on the bed and used it to bind her feet. Then, he rose, and found her phone in her purse. He smashed it to pieces against the nightstand before doing the same with his own. No one was going to be calling the police.
Before he left the room, he got down on all fours and placed his lips against his wife’s sleeping ear.
“You know what I’m going to do now, honey?” He whispered. “I’m going to rape our daughter. I’m going to use every inch of her. I’m going to cum in her fucking pussy and when I’m done, I’m…I’m…”
*Listen to yourself…*
He stood, slowly, and caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, still foggy from his wife’s shower. In it, he was just a shape. A blur.
*You have to be stopped.*
*You’re a monster, Roy.*
*And what do we do with monsters?*
Roy nodded at the blur, and knew what needed to be done.
He hurried to his side of the bed and pulled the gun case out from under it. He spun the code to open it—Ari’s birthday, of all things—and swung the lid back. He lifted the black, shiny thing from the black foam, felt its weight.
*Do it,* came a voice. The voice of the pit.
*Do it.*
He gripped the handle, let the metal box clatter onto the carpet.
He had bought the gun to protect his family.
*Isn’t that what you’re doing?*
“Yeah,” he said aloud. “I guess so.”
At least now, his girls would be safe. They could move on, find someone worth a damn. Someone who could provide. Someone whose life wasn’t so polluted with failure and misery that they—
“Oh my God…” Ari’s voice shook from the doorway.
Roy’s heart sank. He looked up, saw Ari staring down at her bound and naked mother.
“Oh my God! Dad!”
Her eyes found the gun.
*Do it,* the pit said. *Do it.*
*Alright,* thought Roy. *I will.*
He stared at his daughter, let his eyes roll over her. All that quivering flesh, wrapped in all that tight fabric, begging to be released.
*My daughter.*
*My baby girl.*
*My sunshine.*
That’s right.
*My daughter.*
*Mine.*
*Mine.*
*Mine.*
Blood roared into his cock, sent it shooting through the fly of his boxers. He let Ari see it.
“Oh my God…” she gagged.
His grip tightened around the gun. His finger found the trigger.
When he spoke, his voice no longer shook.
“Come here.”
Ari shook her head violently.
“Ari,” he smiled. “Come to daddy.”
She ran.
Roy leapt from the bed, snarling, gun in hand. He chased his daughter down the hall. She reached her room before he was able to, and she slammed the door and locked it.
He didn’t slow down. He bellowed and threw his shoulder into the door. When that didn’t work, he kicked it open. It came apart in splinters and swung open. Ari had her phone in her hands, but her fingers were trembling too badly to hit the right numbers.
“Please!” she screamed, “Please!”
Desperate, she hurled the phone through the air at her father. It bounced off his chest, landed face-down on the floor. He crushed it beneath his heel.
Ari cowered in the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Tears streamed down her face.
“Dad, stop! Please, please, please stop! What…what’s wrong? What’s happening—”
Roy lunged forward, pressed the gun under his daughter’s chin with his right hand. With his left, he buried his hands in her thick blonde hair and yanked back hard.
“What’s happening?” He hissed into her ear. “What’s happening is daddy’s finally gonna get what belongs to him. What he *wants*! Do you understand?”
Her only reply was a whimper. He tugged on her hair harder, let the gun slide down her throat, then further, further. He slid it into her cleavage. She shivered against the cold metal.
“Oh…Oh God…Oh God please help me…” she sobbed.
Roy licked his lips watching the gun slide between his daughter’s luscious tits.
“Get naked for daddy, Ari.”
She tried to shake her head, but couldn’t with his fingers rooted to her skull.
“Please. Please, dad. Please don’t—”
He pressed the gun against her chest, felt her panicked heartbeat travel through the barrel and into the grip, into his palm and fingers.
“You know I have a gun, yes?”
She went right on sobbing.
“And you know, way down deep, that I’m not going to stop, right?”
She screamed. Howled for help.
“And you know that no one can hear you. Not way out here.”
Her howl subsided. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks, dripped off her jaw in mascara-black streaks.
She grimaced as her father dragged his tongue across her lips, sucking at the watermelon-flavored lip balm.
After several long seconds, he pulled his face from hers.
He spat onto her face and spun, held her at arm’s length so that she stood in the center of the room. Then, he let go of her hair, but kept the gun pointed at her stomach, and sat on the bed. His cock was bright red and erect, standing up through the fly of his boxers.
“Now,” he said. “Take off that shirt I bought for you.”
Ari’s eyes flashed from the gun to her father’s erect cock, then back to the gun.
He was right. She knew she had no choice.
Sobbing, trembling, descending into shock, she peeled the black top off as her father, the man she relied on, trusted to keep her safe, stroked his cock and plucked at the gun’s black trigger.
She dropped the bra to the floor. Snot bubbled out of her nose. Roy stared long at the bright red bra, filled to burst with the sweet, soft meat of his daughter’s breasts.
“MOM!” She screamed. “MOM WAKE UP!”
“Now,” Roy said, calmly, slowly, “Your bra.”
“Dad, please!”
“Show daddy your tits. Or I’ll fucking kill you.”
With shaking hands, Ari reached behind her and undid the clasp. The bra fell slowly from her chest as she let her arms fall. The loose straps slid down her forearms and off her wrists and the cups let the two enormous globes fall free.
Roy moaned.
They were perfect. Youth bore their impressive weight with an ease that defied gravity. The upturned nipples were wide pink circles, big around as a silver dollar, and he could see the thick blue veins that ran through them beneath the milky white skin.
The hand that wasn’t holding the gun flashed upward and seized his daughter’s right breast, fingers digging deep into the supple flesh. She screamed and backed away, which angered him.
“No. Please. Dad! Please stop. I won’t tell anyone just please—“
Fury rose in him. She still didn’t understand.
He lifted the gun, pressed it against the crotch of her skin-tight pleather skirt.
She screamed again, and started crying.
“Please. Please Dad.”
“You don’t get it,” he said. He clasped her nipple between his fingers and twisted, viciously. She screamed through the tears and scampered backwards, colliding with the dresser.
Roy bolted from the bed. In moments, he was on top of her. He gripped her by the throat.
“You stupid FUCKING CUNT!”
He spun again, sending her stumbling across the room and onto the bed.
Shrieking, she clawed at the sheets, trying to reach the other side, to put the bed between herself and her attacker.
*Her father.*
Roy seized her ankle with his free hand, and tugged her backwards towards him so that her legs spread around him, her perky, pleather-wrapped ass presented to his throbbing cock.
He thought about simply hiking up the skirt and fucking her right here, like this.
But he knew he wouldn’t.
He knew he had to make this last.
He flipped her onto her back, gripped her by the throat and pulled her so she was sitting on the edge of the bed, their places reversed from where they were moments ago.
He pressed the gun against her left tit, pushed it heavily against the pliant flesh.
She screamed. “MOM! MOM PLEASE WAKE UP?!”
Rage trembled into Roy’s hands. He shifted the gun to his left and slapped his daughter hard across her face with his open right palm. Then again. And again. And again, until she was silent. When he finally stopped, she looked up at him, her nose streaming blood as bright red as the bra on the floor.
He tugged his boxers off at last, and wrapped his free hand around his daughter’s throat and squeezed. At the same time, pressed his cock against her chest, first dragging himself across her left tit, then her right, pre-cum stretching its silken web between the head of his cock and his daughter’s nipple. Finally, he settled his penis into that soft stretch of paradise between her tits and started to grind. His mind exploded into a white mist of pleasure.
*I’m doing it,* he thought. *I’m taking what’s mine.*
He lifted his daughter’s chin as he humped her chest so that she looked up at him.
“Look at me,” he hissed, breathless, “Look at what…you do…to daddy…”
She started to cry again.
“You ever sucked a dick before, babygirl?”
“Dad…dad…”
“Show me.”
He pressed the gun to his daughter’s lips, and she screamed. He shoved the barrel of the gun down his daughter’s throat, gagging her with it. The sound of her trying to scream past the choke of it filled him with a deeper, more vicious hunger, and he fucked her chest with his cock and her mouth with the gun faster, more violently, rocking her tiny frame back and forth, back and forth, all of her belonging to him, all of her trembling beneath him.
“Are you wet, yet, babygirl? Are you wet for daddy?”
He pulled the gun out of her mouth and kissed her deeply, tasted her screams, then pulled away, pushed her back onto the bed.
He lowered himself to the floor between her knees, gnashing and biting his way down her thighs, pulling the skirt down the lengths of her legs before casting it across the room. Her panties he tore away from her with his one free hand.
“Let’s see,” he said. “Let’s see how wet you are for me, babygirl. Let’s see how wet you are you stupid fucking slut.”
Keeping the gun pressed against her stomach, Roy buried his face between his daughter’s legs, drank in the sight of her gorgeous, perfect, pink and shaved pussy. Constellations of razor bumps dotted the insides of her thighs. He dragged his tongue across them, breathed deep of the scent of spit-wet flesh.
But something was wrong.
He dragged a finger across his daughter’s slit, and it came back drier than bleached bone.
“You…you don’t like this, huh?” He asked.
“No…” came the strangled answer. “No…Please…stop. I won’t tell anyone I promise…”
“No,” he started to shake. Fury boiled his insides. “No, you fucking cumrag. You fucking bitch. You FUCKING BITCH!”
He took the gun, still glistening wet from his daughter’s spit, and plunged it into her pussy, forced the barrel past her lips, felt flesh tear before it surrendered.
And oh, Lord almighty, the screams.
The screams!
He was afraid, for a moment, that he was going to cum just from the screams alone, but decided he didn’t care. He howled with mad laughter, bit down hard on his daughter’s thigh while he worked the gun in and out of his daughter’s pussy.
“FUCK YOU!” He cackled. “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU’RE NOTHING! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A HOLE TO BE FUCKED!”
He had lost all control.
Now, he knew. Now was the time.
He was going to fuck her. Put his cock where the gun had been.
He pulled the gun free from her…
Her foot flashed outward, caught him in the jaw. He fell backwards, felt the gun fly from his hands.
He sat there, dazed long enough to watch Ari make a mad, desperate scramble from the bed to the floor, to the gun. His heart raced. His fingers closed around the discarded sky-blue panties.
“You stupid…whore…”
Then he was on his feet again, roaring from deep in his belly.
“COME BACK HERE YOU SLUT!”
Ari screamed and raised the gun, aimed the barrel directly at her father’s chest.
She pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. Only a dry *click* left the gun.
“No…” she whimpered through the blood caking her lips. “No no no”.
She pulled the trigger again. And again.
Her father laughed.
“You really are a stupid bitch.”
She threw the gun at her father, missed. It dented the drywall and fell impotent onto her pillow, right next to her pink teddy bear she’d had since she was six.
She *tried* to gain her feet, but her father was faster.
He fell on top of her, wrapped the waist of the panties around her throat so that the crotch stretched across her nose and mouth. He pulled tight, heard the breath stop in her throat, and knew if he held it long enough, she would pass out. Longer than that, and…
She flailed and scratched, dragged bloody trenches down his forearms but he barely felt it. This was his moment. His triumph. This was what he was put on this earth to do and he knew it without a doubt.
He tucked his throbbing cock beneath the crotch of the panties he was using to strangle his little girl, so that the shaft of his cock pressed against her right cheek, smeared the blood and sweat and tears and mascara into a sloppy mess.
“I want you to see this!” he roared through gritted teeth. He spat at her. The spit mixed with the mess, lubed his cock as he thrust it against her skull. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, following the thrusting shaft of her father’s penis as it crossed her vision.
“I want this to be the LAST THING YOU FUCKING SEE, YOU BITCH!”
She started to spasm.
“Look! Look at what you did to daddy!”
Her eyes rolled backwards into her head, and her spasms became less violent.
Still, Roy fucked the side of his daughter’s skull, wrapped her beautiful golden hair around her bloody, spittle-covered face.
“Good girl,” he moaned, “Good girl.”
As she went still, he grunted, “Die for daddy. Die for daddy.”
She went completely limp, then.
Roy lasted three more thrusts until he came, blasting a load of cum across his daughter’s lifeless face, webbing it into her hair.
He came so long and so hard, he wasn’t certain it would ever end.
When it finally did, he dropped his daughter to the carpet, and wondered if she was really dead. He slapped her, smeared his cum across her lips.
“Ari?” he asked. “Ari?”
No answer came.
He stared at her for a long time. Bloodied, beaten, torn, tattered and lifeless, her right breast bruised from where he had twisted her nipple, her thighs marred with bite marks. He felt himself getting hard again.
And that was when he realized he hadn’t even gotten to *fuck* her. Not really. Not yet.
“Stupid cunt,” he spat. “I’m not done with you, yet.”
He climbed on top of her, right there at the foot of her bed, and slid his cock into her. There was too much resistance, however—the bitch still wasn’t wet, and he had to use the cotton-candy-scented lotion on her nightstand just to work it in.
He watched her flesh, emptied of life but still pliable, still beautiful, still somehow responsive to stimulus, twitch beneath him. He increased his pace, pulled her hips off the floor so that her tits fell back to slap her in the chin, bouncing with each violent thrust.
He dropped her hips, fell onto her breasts and began biting, sucking, leaving fat purple bruises when he finally pulled back.
“Daddy loves you,” he panted as he neared climax. “DADDY LOVES YOU! DADDY LOVES YOU!”
He screamed and his vision went white, white, white, the color of the sun’s insides as he dumped cum into his daughter’s corpse.
He lay on top of her for a while, enjoying the feeling of his dick softening inside his daughter. Then, from somewhere, a buzzing sound. He felt it through the floor.
He looked up, and saw the cracked screen of Ari’s phone lit up.
He almost laughed. It wasn’t broken after all. Well, damn.
For no reason that he could understand, he slid out of Ari’s corpse and crawled over to the phone and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Dad?” Came Kailey’s voice. “I…I was calling Ari back. It’s Phone Hour and she had left me a message.”
“Oh,” Roy said, casting a glance backward at Kailey’s dead sister. “She’s in the shower.”
“Oh,” Kailey said. “Okay. Um. I guess…I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I guess,” Roy said. “You having fun?”
“Kind of. Why do you have Ari’s phone? Did she get in trouble?”
Roy laughed. “No. No.” Then, he said, finding a cooling web of cum stretched across her eyelashes. “Well, maybe a little.”
“Damn. Well, tell her to call me when she gets her phone back.”
“I will. And Kailey?”
“Yeah, Dad? Hurry. I’ve got other people to call and I only have an hour before we have to get back to our cabins.”
*Other people.*
*Boys.*
*You’re a slut just like your sister, aren’t you, Kailey?*
“I was just gonna say,” Roy said, “That I miss you, and I’ll see you when I pick you up on Saturday.”
“Okay, yeah, miss you too, see you Saturday, can I go now?”
Roy smiled and stroked a bloody strand of hair out of Ari’s face. “Bye sweetie. Love you.”
Kailey hung up.
#
Roy fucked his daughter’s corpse one more time before carrying it downstairs and out into the woods.
After a while, he got tired, and had to put her down. He dragged her the rest of the way to the pit.
In the moonlight, the obelisk seemed to glow.
He rolled Ari’s body into the darkness, waited and listened for it hitting bottom. But no sound ever came, and he grew tired of waiting.
After all, he had his wife to deal with, still, and preparations had to be made for Kailey’s return home on Saturday. Christ, that was only two days away.
And oh, did he have some fun things planned.
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.
After all, he knew now, without a doubt, that the pit had no bottom.
No bottom at all.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jlhw7u/the_pit_chapter_2_incest_fatherdaughter_noncon
Everything I was hoping for from part one!
Fantastic