How could this be happening to her? she thought. Surely this is some form of trick or initiation and suddenly the room will be filled with people I know shouting, "Surprise!" Deep inside thought she knew the real truth. This demented man and his mad sister had her and her family by the short hairs. Blackmail was not a term she was not a stranger to. Fear of job loss at the country club with the wrong words whispered to her Vice-president father and a nice cushy, well-paying job might disappear.

Cooks, waitresses and busboys had been threatened by the young girl well before she became a teenager. Her mother's current hearth throb, the Black kid valet had been supplying her with free pot for over a year after she's threatened to tell his boss he was banging Mrs. Goldstein while her orthopedic husband played golf every Thursday afternoon was one of her victims.

The list went on and on until young Becca only thought of something she wanted from the club members before she would be hatching a plan to make it happen. Keeping her ear to the wall and learning juicy gossip from her Mom and her club friends helped also. She'd learned exactly where to apply the grease to make her personal wheels spin, how to leverage, threaten and apply vengeance for any non-compliance. Now the shoe was on the other foot and the fit was anything but comfortable.

Damn, damn, damn that evil mutha fucker. This bastard has us by the real short hairs, she reasoned. Her mind spun as her anger built, the mere fact of the degradation she'd just been subjected to secondary to the subservient position the man had placed her in. She glanced to her left where her eight-year old sister Ruthie sat on the mattresses a foot away. Her hair was still wet, the piss mostly gone from the quick shampoo, both of them afraid to dawdle too long in fear of further pissing off the soccer coach, a term with a slightly different slant to it now that they had been initiated into golden showers.

She glanced over at the assembled guests on the far side of the room seated on additional mattresses. Her eyes ought out her heart throb Chad, a man she would gladly surrender her virginity to in a moment. He sat there with that chink bitch from the mall. Probably fucked her brains out. It could have been me, she thought.

Golden showers was not a new term to Becca, she'd heard it from her school chums on a few occasions. The rumor mill at the Lutheran middle school was Susie Owens older sister Pam had been treated to a golden shower party by the members of the local high school basketball trip. The away trip had landed the cheerleaders and team in a motel and the night's beer drinking party had ended with Susie pulling a train and getting piss soaked from the entire team including the trainer and assistant coach, sixty-two year old math teacher, Mr. Emerson. In fact, it was the math teacher who had suggested the "golden shower" after explaining exactly what it was. Apparently Mr. Emerson's favorite Internet site had been "Piss On Me" for over a year and he wanted his biggest fantasy to come true.

Now, after experiencing her own golden shower she had mixed feelings. One part of her brain registered total disgust at the lewd act, the man's hot urine filling her wholesome mouth with that smelly, awful brine until her throat was forced to open and gulp the hot brew down. Yet, on the other hand, as she was subjected to the humiliating act, her pussy had registered an abundant overflow of pussy cream, the excess almost running down her legs.

Now, with her baby sister sitting by her side, she was not sure what the old bastard wanted to do to them. Something else perverted probably. Surely he'd want to fuck her sister, as young as she was Becca was sure the man was a pedophile or pedo perv as her young friends at school labeled the creepy guys hanging around the soccer fields ogling the girls. She'd often wondered about the way Coach Dallas kept eyeing the girls after practice, walking in on them showering a half a dozen times without apology to blast them on sloppy play, all the while eyeing the girls as they attempted to cover too many private places with too few hands.

Becca for one had never attempted to hide what she was endowed with, standing there brazenly even thrusting out her proud tits as if to say, "See what I've got fucker." Dallas had looked closely at the young girl and admired what he saw. She knew he'd love to have her alone and she'd played with the idea of allowing him his wish but had shuddered at the thought of surrendering her virginity to the "old man."

Now she had no choice in the matter. Caught and bound like a young calf in the rodeo. No real manila rope twisting around her full body but invisible cobwebs of threats that would topple her proud family from the lofty perches of their exclusive lifestyle to the laughing stock of the elite neighborhood they resided in. How best to achieve her goals and make sure this latest cluster fuck didn't spoil her plans? Only one way out...give the old goat exactly what he wanted but not allowing him the pleasure of knowing she was complying. A reluctant victim, grudgingly giving in to save the family name but under it all plotting each step of the way to ensure she came out in the best light. Yes, she was good at that kind of things, she'd had a lot of practice.

Dallas looked at the two trying to decide which one deserved the next round. Do Becca and watch the fear being implanted on the younger one as she realized the thick cock bursting through her sister's virgin membrane was about to rip through her tiny slit? Possibly? ......(cont)