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Naive couple trained by mature uncle and aunt

Cracks in the Armor Lisa Beaumont, 32, was a badass in Manhattan’s luxury real estate game. Tall, slim, with a sharp raven bob, icy blue eyes, and red lipstick that said she was in charge, she rocked tight blazers, pencil skirts, and Louboutins like they were her armor. Her lingerie—black lace bras, matching thongs, garters—was her secret weapon, hidden under the polish as she sealed million-dollar deals, snapping at her team, “Can’t handle the Upper East Side? Go sell in Jersey.” At home, she bossed Sam around, her quiet accountant husband, a skinny guy in khakis who did whatever she said. “Sam, wine, now,” she’d snap, lounging in their fancy penthouse, legs spread in a silk slip, telling him exactly how to eat her—lips on her thighs, stomach, clit, licking slow for hours until she came hard, shaking. It was all about her control, safe and hot in her head, but deep down, she wanted something rougher, dirtier, something Sam’s soft, quick fucks couldn’t touch. In Kentucky, John and Martha Whitaker, both 55, were Lisa and Sam’s aunt and uncle—Martha Lisa’s aunt by blood, John her husband, the couple who’d raised Sam’s side of the family after his parents died. They ran a 5,000-acre farm of pastures, fences, and thoroughbreds worth millions at auction. John, 6’4” and built like a truck, had scarred hands and buzzed silver hair, his flannel shirts tight over his chest, moving like he could break a wild horse with a stare. Martha was curvy, with wild auburn hair and green eyes that cut right through you. Her tight sundresses—low-cut, hugging her big, braless tits, nipples poking through thin cotton—were all about teasing, her panties lace or satin, flashing when she crossed her legs. She handled the farm’s books and breeding schedules, sharp as hell, with a talent for spotting cracks and prying them open. Their four kids—two boys, two girls—were grown and gone: one in Nashville chasing music, another in Louisville with kids, the boys in Texas and California. The empty farmhouse made them restless, their sex rough and raw, keeping the fire going. Martha was bi, craving women as much as John’s brute force, their kinks all about owning and giving in. They loved anal—claiming a tight hole was their rush, a secret for the right plaything. Lisa and Sam’s no-kids deal pissed them off—Sam was 35, Lisa prime for it, so why hold back? They wanted her knocked up, tits leaking milk, a “real woman” in their book, and the taboo of family blood made it hotter—breeding their niece like a dirty secret. It started at family dinners, the oak table lit by candles, plates piled high. John wore a plain flannel, casual, while Martha’s sundress, red and plunging, stuck to her curves, her lace bra peeking when she leaned in, nipples stiff. “Just got back from Miami,” Martha said one night, digging into roast beef, her voice easy. “John got me this dress—it shows off the girls, right? And the lingerie underneath? Black satin, crotchless panties, garters. Makes you feel like a slut in the best way. Lisa, you’d kill in something like this—flaunt that petite figure, show off those legs.” John nodded, cutting his meat. “She’s right. You two should try it, keep things spicy.” Lisa sipped her wine, in a black sheath dress, staying cool. “Maybe. I like nice things under my clothes—keeps me feeling good.” Sam nodded, awkward in his loose khakis. “Uh, yeah, we could try that.” Martha’s foot brushed Lisa’s under the table, maybe on purpose. “You gotta flaunt it, girl. Get a tight dress, let Sam drool. And Sam, get some fitted gear—makes a man feel strong. Lisa, with your petite build, you’re cute, but you could use a little more up top and back there. A good fuck from a real man would fill you out—bigger tits, rounder ass, make you a complete woman. You two are so naive, like a young couple still figuring it out. That’s why you need to learn from us—serve us, let us teach you how to really please. It’ll help you both, trust me.” Lisa paused, cheeks pink, but the idea stuck—her slim frame “incomplete” without curves, milk-filled tits. “I’ll think about it.” At the next dinner—fried chicken, cornbread—Martha’s dress was emerald, short, lace panties flashing when she sat. “Hit a boutique in Lexington,” she said, passing peas. “Got me a red lace teddy—lifts the tits, barely covers my ass. John loves it. Lisa, try one—flaunt that body, show Sam what he’s missing. Your petite look’s sweet, but you need to grow those assets—bigger boobs, thicker ass. A strong man would do that, fill you up right. You two are so innocent, like you need a little guidance. Come on, Sammy, pour Aunt Martha more wine—be a good boy and learn how to serve.” Sam jumped up, filling her glass, blushing as Martha patted his hand. “That’s my sweet, naive nephew—always so eager to please. Aunt Martha appreciates it. You need to learn this stuff, Sammy, serving us—it’ll make you a better man, help you keep Lisa happy.” Lisa smiled, telling Sam, “Yeah, Sam, get me some too. Don’t forget the ice. Learn to do it right.” Sam hurried, serving them both, Martha’s green eyes on him, subtle control in her smile. “Good boy, Sammy. You’re so naive sometimes, but that’s cute. Aunt Martha likes taking care of her little nephew, teaching him how to please.” Hints got bolder. One night, John poured Lisa wine, knuckles brushing her hand. “Saw a foal born—small but tough. Makes you think about family. City deals are cool, but kids last. You two planning any?” Lisa’s cheeks warmed, her silk slip dress tight. “Work first. Kids later.” Martha winked at Sam. “Family’s the best. Making ‘em’s the fun part. You keeping her happy, Sammy? Go on, pour Aunt Martha more wine—be a good boy and learn how to serve properly. You two are so young and naive, you need us to show you the way—it’ll help you both, trust me.” Sam jumped up, filling her glass, blushing as Martha patted his hand. “That’s my sweet, naive nephew—always so eager to help. Aunt Martha appreciates it. Learning to serve is important for naive couples like you two—it makes everything better.” Lisa smiled, telling Sam, “Yeah, Sam, get me some too. Don’t forget the ice. Learn to do it right, like Aunt Martha says.” Sam hurried, serving them both, Martha’s green eyes on him, subtle control in her smile. “Good boy, Sammy. You’re so naive sometimes, but that’s cute. Aunt Martha likes taking care of her little nephew, teaching him how to please.” That cracked the door. After dinner, Lisa and Martha took bourbon to the porch swing, glasses clinking, fireflies out. Martha’s dress rode up, showing lace panties, her tits bouncing. She poured heavy, loosening Lisa’s laugh, her jeans tight. “What’s it like in bed with Sam?” Martha asked, voice low, swing creaking. “He’s quiet—bet he does what you say.” Lisa drank, bourbon making her talk. “Yeah, he kisses me everywhere—neck, stomach, pussy—for hours. I tell him how—‘Slower, Sam. Deeper.’ It’s intense, I come hard, but it’s safe. He’s done in five minutes, one shot, then he’s out. I need more, something rough.” Martha leaned closer, knee on Lisa’s thigh, her dress open, nipples hard. “Sucks to be stuck with a quick guy. John fucks for hours, two, three times a night, never soft. Leaves me sore, full, like a real woman—tits full of milk, belly ready for kids. You need that, Lisa—a guy who pins you, fucks you deep till your tits leak milk.” Lisa’s breath caught, picturing John taking her, her breasts heavy with milk. “Damn… that’s wild. What’s it like, being pinned?” Martha’s hand touched Lisa’s arm, teasing. “It’s letting go. Rope on your wrists, tight, pulling your tits up, nipples hard. You’re stuck, his breath on you, picking where to touch. You squirm, pussy wet, begging. Every touch hits hard. Try it with Sam—or someone bigger.” Lisa’s thighs squeezed, bourbon fueling her. “Bigger? Does John spank you? Is it really that hot? Does it… make you wet?” Martha grinned, fingers sliding up Lisa’s arm. “Hell yeah. His hand smacks your ass, leaves it red, stinging. The heat goes to your pussy, makes you drip. I’m soaked, pushing back for more, tits bouncing as he slaps me red, then fingers my pussy. Picture your fancy ass red, you moaning as he fucks you after.” Lisa nodded, dizzy, hand on her thigh. “Shit… yeah. What about toys? Nipple clamps?” “Clamps hurt good—pinch your nipples, make ‘em throb, every move pulling the chain. John puts ‘em on, watches me squirm, flicks it, shocks hitting my pussy. I’m begging for his cock. On you? I’d suck those clamped tits, tongue easing the pain till you’re grinding on me.” Talks got dirtier, dinners turning into late-night drinks—porch swings, kitchen counters, always booze. In the sunroom with vodka martinis, Lisa’s dress slid up, showing her thong, Martha’s dress tight, nipples poking through. “John’s got a move,” Martha said, stirring her drink. “Holds me down, slides a leather strap over my skin, teasing like he’ll hit. Keeps me guessing, makes me crazy. You want that, Lisa? Not knowing but needing it?” Lisa laughed, vodka loose. “Sam’s my bitch—last night, he licked my ass for an hour, me telling him faster. I came hard. But… that edge, not knowing? Could fuck me up.” She got bold. “I own Sam, Martha. Last week, I collared him, made him strip, crawl to me in a black lace teddy, legs spread to tease. ‘Beg for my pussy,’ I said, his cock leaking on the rug. I made him fetch my heels with his mouth, lick ‘em clean while I fingered myself, keeping him from touching me till he shook. Or I tie him to the bed, blindfold him, edge his cock—slow strokes, stopping before he comes, till he’s crying, ‘Mistress, please.’ I love breaking him, making him lick my pussy, but it’s not enough. He’s one and done, five minutes. I want someone pinning me, fucking me hard, not stopping.” Martha’s eyes locked on Lisa’s, grinning, her bi side loving Lisa’s control. She leaned closer, hand on Lisa’s knee. “Damn, you’ve got him trained—collaring him, making him crawl, licking your heels? Hot. But owning Sam’s fun, not the same as a man taking you, fucking you raw till your tits leak milk. Picture John—hours of fucking, filling you up.” Lisa’s pussy tightened, nodding. “Sam’s weak next to that. I want that fire.” Martha started on Sam, her femdom sneaky. At dinners, she hugged him tight, tits against his chest, nipples hard, making him blush. “Aunt Martha’s here, Sammy,” she’d say, hand on his arm, nails scraping, his cock twitching. In the kitchen, she’d brush his hip, saying, “My sweet, naive boy needs relaxing, huh? Aunt Martha’ll teach you how.” Sam’s “Uh, sure” was shaky, pants tight, turned on but clueless about Lisa and Martha’s porch talks, her moans hidden by thick walls, Sam thinking her phone glow was work. One dinner—steak, corn, candles—John wore a plain flannel, casual. Martha’s dress, blue and short, flashed red lace panties when she sat. “Got this in Nashville,” she said, sipping wine. “Dress hugs my ass, panties barely there—John can’t keep his hands off. Lisa, try one—flaunt that body, show Sam what he’s missing. Your petite look’s sweet, but you need to grow those assets—bigger boobs, thicker ass. A strong man would do that, fill you up right.” Lisa, in a red dress, stayed reserved. “Sounds interesting. I’ll see what I can find.” Sam mumbled, “Maybe I’ll get something,” embarrassed. Dinner talk turned sharp, Martha and John close, his hand on her thigh, her dress low. Over cornbread, Martha said, “A good, long fuck keeps a marriage hot—hours, multiple rounds, till you’re done. John goes two, three times a night, leaves me full, like a real woman with milk-ready tits. Short fucks don’t do it, right, Lisa?” John nodded, cutting steak, eyes sharp. “A man’s gotta last—deep, hard, filling her up, making her tits leak milk for kids. Quick ones leave her empty. You get that, Sam?” Sam shrank, face red, muttering, “Yeah.” Lisa squeezed his knee, pitying, her pussy wet thinking about John’s stamina, Sam’s quick finishes a letdown. “Sounds important,” she said, avoiding his eyes, Martha’s foot nudging Sam’s, her grin wicked. “Don’t worry, Sammy—Aunt Martha’ll help you out.” The first slip came after whiskey sours in the den, Lisa drunk, giggling as Martha led her to the guest room. The door shut, Martha’s bi side out, unbuttoning Lisa’s blouse, exposing her lace bra, fingers rubbing her nipples. “Shh, pet, Aunt Martha’s got you,” she whispered, kissing Lisa’s neck, tongue on her nipple, sucking slow. Her hand slid up Lisa’s skirt, rubbing her wet thong, circling her clit till Lisa came softly, whimpering, their tongues messy in a drunk kiss. “Sleep, slut—more tomorrow.” Lisa passed out, owned. Lisa texted Martha from the city: Tell me more. She pushed Sam, drunk on wine, telling him to spank her, tie her up. He tried, slaps weak, “bad girl” awkward. Lisa faked moans, texting Martha: Sam’s useless—no fire. Martha replied: Come back, pet. We’ll give you fire. Fall got cold, Lisa’s trips more frequent. She showed up polished, but by night two, she was in jeans, boots, loose from bourbon. On the porch, Martha’s control tightened, turning Lisa into her pet. One October night, after a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, Martha took her to the guest room, unbuttoning Lisa’s flannel, exposing flushed skin. “Kneel, pet,” Martha said, pulling her sundress down to show her big tits, nipples hard. “Suck Aunt Martha’s tits, show me you’re my slut.” Lisa knelt, drunk, lips on a nipple, sucking hard, tongue swirling, moaning as Martha gripped her hair. “Good girl—lick Aunt Martha clean.” Lisa’s tongue traced Martha’s chest, lapping sweat down her stomach, sniffing her skin, the musky scent making Lisa’s pussy wet. Martha lifted her skirt, exposing her shaved pussy and tight asshole, a faint sweaty tang. “Smell Aunt Martha’s ass, pet—get close,” she ordered, pushing Lisa’s face in, Lisa’s nose brushing her pucker, inhaling deep, the raw scent making her dizzy. “Lick it, slut—clean Aunt Martha’s hole.” Lisa’s tongue flicked out, tasting Martha’s asshole, circling the tight ring, probing softly, Martha moaning, “Good pet, tongue that ass.” Martha told dirty stories, voice low. “John fucked my ass last night, bent me over the barn door, no panties, cock slamming hard. Popped my hole open, stretched me till I screamed, pain turning good as he came twice, leaving me dripping. Or he ties me up, vibe on my clit till I’m begging, then fucks my pussy for hours, three rounds, till I’m a mess, full of cum. You need that, Lisa—a man who fucks you hard, fills you till your tits leak milk.” Lisa’s jeans were soaked, thighs rubbing, picturing John’s thick cock, her body craving it. “Sam’s nothing like that,” she gasped, tongue in Martha’s ass, cleaning slow. “Five minutes, one cum, done. I need more.” Martha smirked, stroking Lisa’s cheek. “Poor girl, stuck with a quick shooter. John’s a bull—fucks for hours, fills me up. Keep licking, pet—picture his cock wrecking you. You’re so naive, Lisa, but Aunt Martha’s teaching you to serve Uncle John, to take what a real man gives. It’s for your good, helping you become complete.” Lisa came softly, tongue buried in Martha’s asshole, sniffing the musky scent, Martha’s grip making her feel owned. Sam, in the guest room, didn’t hear, Lisa’s moans blocked by walls. He noticed her distance—phone glowing, distracted kisses—but thought it was work, not Martha’s hold. Martha worked him slowly, her femdom creeping. At dinners, she hugged him tight, tits against his chest, nipples hard, making him blush. “Aunt Martha’s here, Sammy,” she’d say, hand on his arm, nails scraping, his cock twitching. In the kitchen, she’d brush his hip, saying, “My sweet, naive boy needs relaxing, huh? Aunt Martha’ll teach you how.” Sam’s “Uh, sure” was shaky, pants tight, turned on but clueless. One summer evening, Martha took Lisa to the fields, sharing bourbon, air thick with grass. At a fence, they watched a stallion fuck a mare, cum dripping. “She takes it all,” Martha whispered, close to Lisa’s ear. “Feel that, Lisa? Wanting to be fucked, filled, tits leaking milk for the family?” Lisa gripped the fence, pussy wet. “Yeah… intense,” she said, hand on Martha’s hip. By mid-November, things got real. A pre-Thanksgiving trip—Lisa’s job slow, Sam’s audits flexible. They arrived Friday, the farmhouse warm. Dinner was pot roast, wine heavy, Martha’s foot spreading Lisa’s leg under the table, her lace panties flashing. John wore a plain flannel; Martha’s dress, short and red, showed her thong when she moved. “This dress kills in the city,” she said, winking at Lisa. “Got a lace thong under—John loves it. Lisa, try one—flaunt that body, show Sam what he’s missing. Your petite look’s sweet, but you need to grow those assets—bigger boobs, thicker ass. A strong man would do that, fill you up right.” Lisa, in a red dress, stayed reserved. “Sounds interesting. I’ll see what I can find.” Sam mumbled, “Maybe I’ll get something,” embarrassed. “Movie night,” Martha said after dinner, leading them to the den, pouring scotch. The movie was a hot thriller—dark room, silk sheets, a woman moaning, wrists tied, belt smacking her skin, cries desperate. Lisa and Sam sat on the sectional, her thigh against his, her dress showing lace garters, hand on his knee. John and Martha were glued together, his arm around her, her dress low, tits bouncing, nipples hard, a tease of the milk they wanted from Lisa. The scotch hit hard—Lisa’s face red, head fuzzy, Sam’s eyes blurry, pants tight. John kissed Martha’s neck, wet, tongue on her earlobe, growling, their tongues loud and sloppy. His hand grabbed her tit, thumb rubbing her nipple, making it stick out. “Damn, baby, so ripe,” he said, voice thick, pulling her skirt up, showing her thigh, fingers digging in. Martha moaned, arching, hair loose, hips grinding his lap, his cock huge in his jeans, wet spot from pre-cum. Lisa stared, pussy soaked, breathing fast, John’s cock outline and Martha’s tits pulling her in. Sam’s cock got harder, shame mixing with excitement as Lisa’s nails dug into his knee, whispering, “Look at them, Sam—he owns her. That’s real.” Martha caught them staring, eyes wicked, smiling slow. She leaned to Sam, voice soft and controlling, hand on his thigh, fingers brushing his hard-on, making him jump. “Sammy, sweet boy,” she said, breath hot, body close, heat pouring off her. “Aunt Martha sees you looking. You like watching Uncle John and Aunt Martha, huh? He’s the big strong one—takes what he wants, no asking. I’m here to hold you, make you feel good while he’s in charge.” Her fingers squeezed, nails digging, words dirty. “Picture it, Sammy—Aunt Martha holding you, whispering you’re my good boy, my pussy on you, teaching you to make me happy, like family should. You think about that? Aunt Martha and her boy, so close, my hands on your little cock, keeping you hard while Uncle John takes what’s his?” Sam’s face went red, cock throbbing, her family talk messing him up. He tried, “Martha, I…” but her finger shut him up, on his lips, control tight. “Quiet, pet, Aunt Martha’s talking. Lisa needs a strong man, Sammy—stressed from the city, her pussy begging for a real fuck to pin her, fill her for hours till her tits leak milk like a real woman. You’re sweet, but you’re fast—five minutes, one cum, leaving her empty. She needs a big cock—long, thick, fucking her holes till she screams, bred full, milk dripping to show she’s complete. You see it, right? Her begging for it while Aunt Martha keeps your little cock in line? You two are so naive, like a young couple needing lessons. This is how you learn, Sammy—serve Aunt Martha and Uncle John, let us teach you. It’ll help you both, make you better at pleasing. Naive boys like you need Aunt Martha to show the way.” Lisa’s breath hitched, Martha’s words hitting hard, her pussy wet thinking about John’s control, her tits full of milk. Her “Sam…” was weak, body leaning toward John, who’d moved closer, arm behind her, fingers brushing her shoulder, gentle but firm, a strong uncle’s touch. “Easy, princess,” he said, voice deep, soft, uncle-like, thumb rubbing her arm, rough skin sending tingles. “Don’t spill your scotch, baby girl—Uncle John’s got you.” His eyes locked on hers, smirking. “Sorry, darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, like forgiving her, fingers rubbing her shoulder, working knots, breath warm on her neck. “You’re tight from the city, sweetheart—let Uncle John fix that.” The movie got louder—cries, belt smacking, wrists tied—John’s strong game stronger, hand on her neck, fingers pressing slow, other hand on her knee, moving up her thigh, brushing her dress hem with rough knuckles. “There you go, baby girl,” he whispered, voice heavy, “relax for Uncle John, take that stress away.” Lisa’s thighs opened, thong wet, sticking to her pussy, her “John… we shouldn’t…” quiet, drunk, body giving in as his fingers touched her lace garter, contact hot. Her nipples poked through her dress, breath fast as John’s vibe held her—caring, controlling, hinting at more. Martha watched, her bi side on fire, hand rubbing Sam’s cock through his pants, keeping him hard. “Look at your wife, Sammy,” she said, voice thick, fingers squeezing. “She’s Uncle John’s, melting for him. Aunt Martha’s taking care of you, baby boy, keeping you hard while he takes her. You want to be Aunt Martha’s good boy, right? Stroking slow, watching Lisa get what she needs? You’re so naive, Sammy, but Aunt Martha’ll teach you—serve me, learn how to please, and it’ll make you better for her. Naive couples like you two need Aunt Martha and Uncle John to guide you, show you how to submit and serve. It’s for your own good, baby boy.” Sam’s eyes were wide, tears starting, hand stroking himself as Martha’s nails scr*ped his neck, voice dirty. “Picture Aunt Martha riding you, my pussy tight on you, teaching you to please me while Uncle John fucks Lisa’s holes, makes her scream. That’s what she needs—a strong uncle who owns, fills her till her tits leak milk.” Martha’s voice turned sharp, looking at John. “Fuck her harder, Uncle John—own that city slut, make her yours.” Lisa hesitated, scotch buzzing, then slid over, dress riding up, lace garter flashing, thigh against John’s, his jeans hot on her skin. Martha straddled Sam’s lap, dress up, thong wet, grinding on his bulge. “Aunt Martha’s boy now, Sammy—gonna obey?” she said, fingers in his hair, forcing his eyes to her tits. “Submit to Aunt Martha, pet—watch Uncle John take your wife. You’re so naive, baby, but Aunt Martha’ll teach you to serve right—it’ll help you both, make you a better man.” The movie’s heat—slaps, moans, begging—lit the room up. Martha’s command snapped again. “Take her harder, Uncle John—break her.” John’s strong side broke, hand tight on Lisa’s neck, pinning her shoulders, flipping her face-down on the couch, dress yanked up, showing her pale ass, lace thong soaked, sticking to her shaved pussy, wet dripping down her thighs. “No—John, please!” Lisa gasped, drunk, hands grabbing the couch, voice shaky with fear and want, hips moving back. John unzipped his jeans, cock out—nine inches, thick, veined, head leaking, smearing pre-cum on her ass cheek. “Quiet, baby girl,” he growled, voice hard, pinning her wrists with one hand, the other spreading her ass, showing her wet pussy lips, pink and open, her asshole tight. “Uncle John’s taking this pussy.” Martha jumped in, kneeling beside Lisa, grabbing her wrists, nails digging in, holding her down. “Take it, slut,” she hissed, smacking Lisa’s ass, sound loud, skin red, sting making Lisa cry out, pussy tightening, wet pooling. “Let Uncle John own that hole—Aunt Martha wants you broken. You two are so naive, Lisa—need Aunt Martha and Uncle John to teach you to serve, to submit. It’s for your good, baby girl—learn how to take a real man’s cock.” John’s cockhead pushed against her pussy, rubbing her clit, making her moan, needy. “No… Sam…” Lisa whimpered, looking at him, hips moving back, pussy opening for John’s tip. Sam was stuck, Martha on his lap, thong wet, grinding on his bulge. “Watch, baby boy,” she said, pulling his hair to make him look. “Aunt Martha’s good boy sees Uncle John fucking his wife, right? Stroke your little cock slow—don’t cum till Aunt Martha says. You’re so naive, Sammy, but Aunt Martha’ll teach you to serve—lick, suck, obey. It’ll help you be better for her.” She unzipped his pants, his small cock out, leaking, her hand guiding his to stroke, nails on his shaft. “Picture Aunt Martha riding you, my pussy tight on you, teaching you to please me while Uncle John fucks Lisa’s holes, makes her scream. That’s what she needs—a strong uncle who owns, fills her till her tits leak milk.” John pushed in raw, cock stretching Lisa’s pussy, burning as he went halfway, her walls tight, wet sound as her slick coated him, dripping down her thighs. “Fuck—too big!” Lisa cried, drunk, body fighting, hips pushing back. John smacked her other cheek, red mark showing, her cry a moan as he went deeper, balls slapping her clit, fucking hard. “Cry for Uncle John, princess,” he growled, hand bruising her hip, pulling her onto his cock, skin slapping louder than the movie, her pussy wet, dripping on the couch. Martha’s hand was in her thong, fingering herself, wet sounds loud as she watched John fuck Lisa. “Harder, Uncle John,” she said, “break her!” She smacked Lisa’s ass, hard, cheeks jiggling, red marks rising, Lisa’s moans desperate, “Uncle John… fuck, harder!” John slammed in, cock hitting deep, pain turning good as Lisa gave in, body shaking, pussy tight. “Own me, Uncle John!” she screamed, coming hard, squirting onto the couch, soaking her stockings, the leather wet. John pushed deep, cum shooting into her pussy, thick and hot, leaking around his shaft, dripping to her asshole, pink and tight. Martha ground on Sam’s lap, soaking his pants, making him stroke faster. “See, baby boy? Uncle John bred your wife, filled her like you can’t. Suckle Aunt Martha’s tits, pet—calm your naive little heart.” She pulled her dress down, big tits out, nipples hard, shoving one in Sam’s mouth. He sucked, lips latching, tongue swirling the warm flesh, soothing his shame as he whimpered, cock leaking, the act of suckling like a baby under her dominance, her hand guiding his head, “Good boy, suckle Aunt Martha’s tits, learn to please while you watch Uncle John take your wife. You’re so naive, Sammy, but this is how you learn to serve.” Sam’s tears fell, but he sucked harder, the warmth calming him even as Martha ground on his bulge, her dominance absolute. Martha pushed his face down, straddling his mouth, thong off, her shaved pussy and tight asshole close, musky scent hitting him. “Lick Aunt Martha’s ass, you little bitch,” she ordered, Sam’s nose against her pucker, inhaling the raw, sweaty tang, his tongue flicking out, licking her asshole, circling slow, cleaning her hole as she moaned, “Good boy, tongue Aunt Martha’s ass deep. You’re so naive, Sammy, but Aunt Martha’s teaching you to serve—it’ll make you better.” Sam’s cock came in his pants, tears on his face as Martha came, her pussy wet on his chin, saying, “Good boy—your wife’s Uncle John’s slut now.” Lisa, panting, was pulled to her knees by Martha, who spread her cheeks, showing her cum-dripping pussy and tight asshole. “Clean her, Sammy,” Martha snapped, shoving his face in. Sam sniffed Lisa’s asshole, the musky scent mixed with John’s thick cum, his tongue licking her pucker, tasting the bitter load leaking from her pussy, cleaning slow as Lisa moaned, “Fuck, Sam… lick it.” Martha grinned, “That’s it, naive boy, lick your wife’s ass clean—taste Uncle John’s cum in her filthy hole. Learning to serve Aunt Martha and Uncle John is good for you two.” That night, past midnight in the master bedroom, the king bed was a fucking mess, air thick with sweat and sex. Martha tied Lisa to the headboard, black ropes biting her wrists, her dress torn open, small tits exposed, nipples rock-hard. A blindfold—John’s bandana—covered her eyes. “Suck Uncle John’s cock, you little whore,” Martha growled, guiding John’s thick, wet cock to Lisa’s lips, her tongue gagging as she sucked, spit dripping down her chin, slurping loud. Martha spread Lisa’s cheeks, sniffing her asshole, the raw, musky scent making her pussy throb, then licked, tongue circling her tight pucker, cleaning cum from her pussy, probing her ass deep as Lisa moaned, “Aunt Martha… fuck, eat my ass.” John pulled out, moving behind, spreading her cheeks wider, his cock pushing into her tight asshole, the burn making her scream, “Uncle John, it’s too big!” Her hole stretched, veins pulsing as he went balls-deep, pounding her ass, balls slapping her soaked pussy. Martha climbed up, straddling Lisa’s face, her sweaty asshole right over her mouth. “Lick Aunt Martha’s ass, you filthy slut—clean it good,” she ordered, grinding down, Lisa’s nose buried in her pucker, sniffing the musky tang, tongue diving in, licking deep, cleaning her hole as Martha moaned, “Fuck, yes, tongue Aunt Martha’s ass like a good pet. You’re so naive, Lisa, but Aunt Martha’s teaching you to serve Uncle John, to take what a real man gives. It’s for your good, helping you become complete.” Lisa’s body shook, cumming again as John fucked her ass raw, pain turning to pleasure, her pussy dripping onto the sheets. Sam sat in an armchair, collared like a dog, Martha’s command—“Stay, naive boy”—keeping him locked, stroking his caged cock, pre-cum dripping. “Watch Uncle John breed your wife, you pathetic little student,” Martha spat, pegging Sam’s ass with a small dildo, making him whimper, cock leaking more. “You’re so naive, Sammy, but Aunt Martha’s teaching you to serve—it’ll help you learn how to please, make you a better man for her.” Lisa came, ass clenching John’s cock, squirting hard, John unloading in her ass, cum leaking out in thick white drips. Martha came on Lisa’s face, her asshole licked clean, screams loud. She yanked Sam over, spreading John’s cheeks, his hairy asshole musky and raw. “Lick Uncle John’s ass, you naive boy,” she barked, Sam’s nose sniffing the sweaty, bitter scent, tongue licking John’s pucker, cleaning slow as John groaned, “Good boy, clean Uncle John’s hole deep. Learning to serve Aunt Martha and Uncle John is good for you two—it’ll teach you how to submit, fill you both with what you need.” Sam’s cock leaked, shame and arousal breaking him. Thanksgiving sealed it. After turkey, Martha bent Lisa over the dining table, skirt yanked up, John fucking her pussy raw, balls slapping, cum filling her cunt. Martha strapped on a thick dildo, lubing it, and fucked Lisa’s ass, stretching her hole, cum and lube dripping. Sam knelt under, sniffing John’s asshole, licking it clean, tasting the musky sweat, then moving to Lisa’s ass, tongue deep in her stretched hole, cleaning John’s cum as Martha growled, “Clean them, you naive boy—eat Uncle John’s load and your wife’s ass. You two are so innocent, but Aunt Martha and Uncle John are teaching you to serve, to learn how to take and give. It’s for your own good, helping you become better.” Lisa screamed, “Fill my cunt, Uncle John!” as John came again, Martha pounding harder, Lisa squirting on the floor, soaking the wood. December turned into a depraved family ritual, the taboo of blood ties making it dirtier—breeding their niece like a family secret, Sam forced to watch and serve as the naive student. John and Martha tracked Lisa’s ovulation, their breeding obsession peaking in the cold barn, hay scratching skin, air thick with sweat, cum, and the musky scent of asses. Lisa was tied to a breeding bench, black ropes cutting into her wrists and ankles, legs spread wide, pussy and ass exposed, her shaved cunt dripping slick down her thighs, asshole twitching tight. John’s cock—nine inches, veined, leaking—slammed into her pussy raw, balls slapping her clit, growling, “Gonna breed this slutty niece cunt, fill you with Uncle John’s family seed till your tits leak milk for the bloodline.” Martha sat on Lisa’s face, asshole over her mouth, “Lick Aunt Martha’s ass, you dirty niece—clean it.” Lisa sniffed Martha’s musky pucker, tongue diving in, cleaning her hole, moaning as John fucked her, cum flooding her pussy, leaking out. Martha came, her asshole licked clean, Lisa squirting on the hay. “Good girl,” Martha purred, “you’re so naive, Lisa, but Aunt Martha’s teaching you to serve Uncle John, to take his seed for the family. It’s for your good, making you a real woman with milk-heavy tits.” Sam was dragged in, collared, forced to kneel, Martha’s hand in his hair. “Watch, Sammy, you naive boy,” she said, voice sharp, “watch Uncle John breed your wife, fill her cunt with family seed. You need to learn how a real man fucks, how to serve Aunt Martha and Uncle John.” She shoved her tits in his mouth, “Suckle Aunt Martha’s tits, calm your little heart.” Sam’s lips latched, sucking hard, tongue swirling the warm flesh, soothing his shame as he watched John’s cock slam into Lisa’s pussy, cum dripping, the taboo of family breeding making his cock leak in his cage. Martha ground her tits on his face, dominance absolute, “Good boy, suckle Aunt Martha’s tits, learn to please while you watch Uncle John take your wife. You’re so naive, Sammy, but this is how you learn to serve the family.” John pulled out, cum leaking from Lisa’s pussy, and flipped her, lubing her tight asshole, pushing in slow, stretching her, pain making her scream, “Uncle John, it’s too big!” He fucked her ass raw, balls smacking her soaked pussy, growling, “Uncle John’s breeding this niece ass too, gonna fill every hole with family seed till you’re pregnant.” Lisa came, ass clenching, squirting hard, John unloading deep in her asshole, cum dripping out. Martha shoved Sam’s face to Lisa’s ass, “Clean her, naive boy—lick Uncle John’s cum from your wife’s filthy hole.” Sam sniffed Lisa’s cum-filled asshole, tongue licking her pucker, tasting the bitter load, cleaning slow as Lisa moaned, “Fuck, Sam… lick it.” Martha spread John’s cheeks, his hairy asshole musky, “Clean Uncle John too, you naive little boy—learn to serve the family.” Sam’s tongue licked John’s pucker, tasting the sweaty, bitter scent, cleaning deep as John groaned, “Good boy, clean Uncle John’s hole. Learning to serve Aunt Martha and Uncle John is good for you two—it’ll teach you how to submit, fill you both with what you need.” Afternoons were relentless, Lisa tied in the barn, hay under her knees, John fucking her pussy and ass, switching holes, cum flooding both, Martha whipping her small tits with a leather crop, leaving red marks, snarling, “Take Uncle John’s cock, you naive niece—let him breed you for the family. Your tits’ll leak milk soon, make ‘em grow.” Sam knelt, collared, Martha forcing him to watch, “See, Sammy, how Uncle John fills her? You’re too naive to fuck like that, but Aunt Martha’s teaching you to serve.” She shoved her tits in his mouth, “Suckle Aunt Martha, calm your pathetic heart.” Sam sucked, tears falling, the warmth soothing as he watched, then licked her asshole, cleaning her musky pucker as she moaned, “Good naive boy, learn to please Aunt Martha while Uncle John breeds your wife.” Sam cleaned Lisa’s cum-dripping ass and pussy, then John’s asshole, tongue deep, Martha’s voice sharp, “Clean them, you naive boy—taste Uncle John’s seed in her holes, learn how to serve the family.” Nights by the fire in the bedroom were raw, the king bed piled with all four, Lisa tied spread-eagle on the mattress, John fucking her pussy, ass, mouth, switching holes, cumming on her face or deep inside, Martha feeding it to her. “Swallow Uncle John’s cum, you filthy niece—get full, tits ready for milk.” Martha’s strap-on fucked Lisa’s pussy or ass, toys buzzing her clit, Lisa squirting, screaming, “Breed my fucking holes, Uncle John!” Sam, caged, was pulled onto the bed, Martha shoving her tits in his mouth, “Suckle Aunt Martha, naive boy—calm down while you watch Uncle John breed your wife.” Sam sucked, tongue swirling her nipples, soothing his shame as the taboo family scene unfolded, Martha grinding on his face, “Good boy, learn to serve by watching—lick Aunt Martha’s ass next.” He sniffed her musky pucker, tongue diving in, cleaning her hole as she moaned, her dominance absolute, “You’re so naive, Sammy, but this is how you learn to please the family.” Sam licked their assholes—John’s, Lisa’s, Martha’s—cleaning cum and sweat, tongue deep, Martha’s voice harsh, “Eat, you little naive boy—your wife’s our fucktoy now. You two are learning to serve the family, it’s helping you become better.” They fucked Lisa raw on fertile days, John filling her pussy three times daily, cum thick, Martha pinching her nipples, “Milk’s coming when you’re bred, you naive niece. Aunt Martha’s guiding you to serve Uncle John, to take his seed for the family.” Lisa came hard, squirting, the taboo of family breeding driving her wild. Sam sucked Martha’s tits to calm him, then licked her ass, cleaning her hole, Martha pegging him, whispering, “Good student, taste Uncle John’s seed in your wife’s dirty ass. Naive couples like you need Aunt Martha and Uncle John to show you how to please.” By Christmas, Lisa’s tits were sore, swelling, nipples sensitive, a sign John’s kid was growing. Nights were orgies on the king bed by the fire, Lisa tied up, John fucking all her holes, Martha’s strap-on pounding her, Lisa squirting, screaming, “Breed me, Uncle John, for the family!” Sam, caged, sucked Martha’s tits, soothing his shame, then licked their assholes—John’s, Lisa’s, Martha’s—cleaning cum and sweat, Martha’s control absolute, snarling, “Lick harder, you naive boy—clean Aunt Martha’s ass. You’re learning to serve so well, it’s helping you both.” New Year’s Eve was the peak: all on the king bed by the fire, Lisa tied, John’s cock slamming her pussy, Martha’s strap-on stretching her ass, Sam sucking Martha’s tits, then licking their assholes, cleaning cum and lube. “Ten… nine…” John roared, cumming in her pussy at midnight, “Our niece is bred!” Lisa shook, squirting, Martha’s cum on her face, Sam licking their assholes clean, shame complete. Martha patted his head, “Good naive boy, you’re learning to serve Aunt Martha and Uncle John—it’ll make you a better husband.” January hit, Lisa’s belly showing a bump, tits bigger, nipples ready for milk, John and Martha’s dream coming true. She went back to the city changed, their fucktoy, planning weekend trips. Sam, collared, followed, broken, the farm waiting for spring, Lisa’s body their prize, full and owned.

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