Chapter Seven : Bart The General

On one particularly grueling day at the office, Homer's thoughts had been consumed by the sweet, succulent image of his daughter's body. He returned home with a ravenous hunger, his cock straining against his pants at the mere thought of her. He had hoped to find her in her usual spot, waiting for him with open legs and a desperate need for his release. But as he stumbled into her room, he found Lisa sitting at her vanity, meticulously applying makeup.

With a growl of primal lust, Homer grabbed Lisa by the waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. She squealed in surprise, her legs instinctively wrapping around his burly frame. He carried her over to the bedroom wall, the headboard slamming into the plaster as he slammed her back against it. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as he positioned himself, her father's thick member parting her folds and pushing deep inside her.

His hands roamed over her body, cupping her plump breasts and pinching her erect nipples, sending waves of pleasure shooting through her core. He fucked her standing, his powerful hips driving into her with a force that made the room shake. Her back slapped against the wall with each thrust that had her moaning like a whore in heat.

Her pussy clenched around him, the walls tightening and releasing in a silent plea for more, her nails digging into his broad shoulders as she held on for dear life. The room was a blur of sweat and passion, their bodies moving in a rhythm as old as time itself. Homer's grunts grew louder, his face a mask of depraved satisfaction as he claimed her once more, his seed pulsing deep within her.

As he emptied himself, Lisa felt a strange mix of relief and despair, knowing that she was forever trapped in this cycle of incestuous degradation. Yet, as his cum filled her up, she couldn't help but wonder if tonight would be the night she'd hear Bart's footsteps in the hallway, craving the taste of his youthful cock once more. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized with a start that she was already eager for the next round of this twisted game of desire.

The next morning, the sun had barely peeked over the horizon when the sound of a door slamming echoed through the Simpson household. A sleepy-eyed Lisa stirred in her bed, the scent of sex lingering in the air. She had barely begun to process the events of the previous encounter when the door to her room burst open, revealing a furious Bart and a concerned Homer, their expressions dark and accusatory. "Where the hell is Maggie?" Bart spat, his fists clenched at his sides. Homer's eyes narrowed as he took in the disheveled state of Lisa's bed, his gaze lingering on the wet spot where his cum had stained the sheets. The realization dawned on him, and his rage grew. "You little whore," he snarled, his hand shooting out to grip her throat. "What have you done with her?"

The accusation was a punch to the gut for Lisa, who had no idea that Maggie had been missing. She struggled against his grip, her eyes wide with fear. "I-I don't know," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Let me go!" But Homer was beyond reason, his mind racing with the most twisted of thoughts. He threw her onto the bed, tearing at her nightgown with a ferocity that sent buttons flying. "You've been a bad girl, Lisa," he growled, his voice thick with lust and anger. "And now, you're going to pay for it."

With a snarl of rage, Homer yanked Lisa's legs apart, revealing her glistening, abused pussy to the early morning light. Bart, his eyes alight with a fiery mix of anger and lust, didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his own cock standing tall and demanding, and without a word of warning, pushed it into her tight, puckered asshole. Lisa's eyes rolled back in her head, a garbled scream caught in her throat as she was sandwiched between her father and brother, both men claiming her in the most primal and debasing of ways.

Homer slammed into her pussy, his thick cock stretching her to the limits of pain and pleasure, while Bart's youthful shaft invaded her ass with a ferocity that left her trembling. The room was filled with the sickening wet sounds of their incestuous union, their grunts and obscenities a symphony of depravity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house.

They fucked her without mercy. Homer's grip on her throat tightened as he growled, "You're going to pay for this, you little slut," his words a vile mantra that seemed to fuel his relentless pounding. Meanwhile, Bart's curses fell like a rain of fire on her ears, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own climax. The pain was exquisite, a white-hot brand searing her soul as she was claimed by the two men she had once called family.

The relentless onslaught of Homer and Bart's rage-filled lust left Lisa's body bruised and trembling, her pussy and ass gaping open like a defiled temple to their depraved desires. They had taken her in a frenzied rage, their cocks pounding into her with a ferocity that seemed to mirror their fear and anger over Maggie's disappearance.

When they were finally spent, they had left her a broken mess on the bed, her legs splayed wide and her body drenched in a mixture of sweat and cum. For what felt like an eternity, Lisa lay there, unable to move or speak, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and pain.

She could feel her asshole pulsing around the thick cock that had so recently invaded her, the ache a constant reminder of her reality.

The room grew bright with the sun's unforgiving light, and she knew that she had been left to stew in her own filth for the day, a silent testament to their dominance. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she drifted into a fitful sleep, her dreams haunted by the sounds of their grunts and the feeling of their hot, sticky cum seeping out of her abused holes.

When she awoke, it was to a world that had moved on without her, As the aroma of Marge's meatloaf wafted through the kitchen, Maggie sat at the dinner table, her cheeks flushed from the recent escapades she had been detailing to her mother.

She spoke of her "homework session" with a forced innocence, her voice trembling slightly as she recounted the hours she had spent with her friend's father, his cock buried deep within her.

Meanwhile, Homer couldn't help but let his gaze linger on his youngest daughter's budding breasts, his thoughts drifting to the forbidden fruit that his boss had yet not tasted. His hand slipped under the table, caressing her thigh, his thumb brushing against the soft fabric of her skirt. The subtle pressure grew firmer, inching closer to the warm, wet center of her being.

Marge's eyes darted over to Lisa, noticing the faint traces of bruises around her neck and the haunted look in her eyes. Despite her motherly instincts screaming at her to question her daughter, she held her tongue, not wanting to ruin the fragile facade of normalcy that had settled over the dinner table. She offered a warm smile, serving Lisa a generous portion of meatloaf.

Lisa's eyes narrowed as she watched Homer's hand inch closer to Maggie's pussy, his thumb grazing the fabric of her skirt with a disturbing familiarity. She could see the bulge in his pants, the same one that had invaded her own body countless times.

Meanwhile, Marge, oblivious to the tension thickening the air, continued to serve dinner with a forced smile, her eyes never leaving her plate. The juicy meatloaf sat untouched on Lisa's plate, her appetite lost to the disgust and anger that bubbled within her.

Even Bart seemed to have forgotten their earlier tryst, his eyes glued to the TV as he shoveled food into his mouth, the sounds of his chewing echoing through the tense silence. The sight of her brother's nonchalance only added to the cauldron of emotions boiling over inside her. Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to break free from this twisted cycle of abuse and betrayal.

The following morning, Lisa sat in the kitchen, sipping her coffee and trying to ignore the ache between her legs from the united lovemaking the night before. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the room, a comforting scent that couldn't quite mask the lingering odor of sex. Maggie, looking particularly bright-eyed and cheerful, sauntered in wearing nothing but a knowing smile and a tiny pair of panties that barely covered her freshly shaved mound.

She slid onto the stool next to Lisa, her full breasts jiggling with the movement, and placed a thick wad of cash on the counter. "Look what I earned last night," she whispered, her voice thick with smug satisfaction. Lisa's eyes widened in shock as she took in the crumpled bills, her mind racing with questions and accusations. "What the hell did you do?" she hissed, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and curiosity.

Maggie just giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she began to tell her story of the night's events. "You wouldn't believe the things those men were willing to pay for," she said, her voice low and seductive. "And the best part is, I didn't even need a cock to make them cum like fountains." Lisa felt a strange mix of jealousy and arousal as Maggie recounted her exploits at Moe's Tavern, her voice filled with a newfound sense of power and excitement.

Maggie leaned closer to Lisa, her breath hot against her ear as she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, "Don't worry about Homer, Bart, and Marge. I've taken care of them." Lisa raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice filled with a hint of suspicion. Maggie's grin grew wider, revealing her perfect teeth. "I slipped a little something in their drinks last night," she confessed with a wink. "They're out cold upstairs. Nothing but sweet dreams and limp dicks for them today," she giggled, patting the pocket of her silk robe where a small vial of clear liquid was hidden.

With their unsuspecting family safely out of commission, Maggie and Lisa set out for a day of unbridled indulgence. Dressed in outfits that screamed 'available' and 'expensive', they hit the streets of Springfield with a mission to spend every last dollar of the ill-gotten gains.

Their first stop was the town's most luxurious boutique, where Maggie picked out a skintight red dress that accentuated her ample curves and made her look like a walking wet dream. Lisa chose a black ensemble that was equally as seductive, her tight leather pants hugging her round ass like a second skin and her blouse barely containing her full, perky breasts. They giggled and whispered to each other as they tried on lingerie, their excitement growing with each revealing piece.

Their shopping spree was only briefly interrupted by a trip to the nail salon, where they were pampered and primped to perfection. The scent of nail polish and lotion mingled with their perfumes, creating an intoxicating aura of sensuality that seemed to draw the gazes of every man they passed. After hours of retail therapy, they settled into a swanky restaurant, their heels clicking on the marble floor as they sashayed to their table.

The maître d' couldn't keep his eyes off them as they ordered a bottle of the finest champagne and a decadent meal that would make even the most jaded food critic salivate. As they sipped and nibbled, their conversation grew more explicit, their voices hushed but filled with the promise of the depraved adventures that awaited them once the sun set. The tension between them was palpable, a delicious blend of sisterly love and erotic tension that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long.

Lisa couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as they entered the high-class restaurant, the ambiance a stark contrast to the sordid tales of Maggie's nocturnal escapades. She scanned the room, expecting a sea of ogling eyes and hushed whispers, but to her surprise, the patrons remained engrossed in their own conversations, seemingly oblivious to the two sexually charged females in their midst. The only attention they drew was the occasional admiring glance from the male clientele, their eyes lingering just a moment too long before politely looking away.

The soft clinking of silverware and the murmur of well-bred chatter filled the air, creating a cocoon of normalcy around them. For a brief moment, Lisa allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, their secret life could coexist with the mundane reality of Springfield without imploding.

When they returned home, the house was eerily quiet, the only sound the occasional snore echoing from the bedrooms upstairs. The effects of Maggie's little 'gift' from the night before had not worn off, leaving Homer, Marge, and even the ever-active Bart in a deep, uninterrupted sleep. The sight of her family laid out like that brought a twisted smile to Lisa's face, a mix of amusement and admiration for her sister's cunning.

The following morning dawned, bringing with it the promise of a new day and a fresh start. The house remained still, the quiet a stark reminder of the previous night's escapades. As the sun's rays began to peek through the curtains, Homer, Marge, and even the ever-energetic Bart stirred in their beds, slowly coming to their senses. Each one of them had a vague recollection of a deep, restful sleep, but nothing more.

They had no idea that their night had been so conveniently and chemically induced. Downstairs, Maggie and Lisa sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and nibbling on toast, their eyes gleaming with the shared secret of their nighttime adventures. They had returned home just before dawn, their bodies exhausted but their spirits soaring from the evening's conquests.

As the Simpson family shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from their eyes and stretching out the kinks from their bodies, they exchanged sleepy greetings, completely oblivious to the fact that their lives had taken a dark and twisted turn while they were unconscious. The tension between the sisters was gone, replaced by a newfound camaraderie and a mutual understanding that could never be spoken of in the harsh light of day.

They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, but for now, they were content to bask in the afterglow of their secret life. The house returned to its usual chaotic routine, with Homer grumbling about work and Marge fretting over the day's chores, while Maggie and Lisa exchanged knowing smirks, their eyes occasionally lingering on each other's bodies, reminders of the passionate embrace they had shared.

The day ahead was filled with the mundane tasks of school and errands, but beneath the surface, the current of excitement and anticipation flowed strong. They knew that tonight, once the house was quiet and their family lay sleeping, they would once again indulge in the depraved games that had brought them so much pleasure. Their relationship had shifted, morphed into something wild and untamed, and they were eager to explore every dark corner of their newfound sexual freedom.

For the rest of the day, they played the part of the perfect family, Lisa acing her tests at school and Maggie charming the pants off of everyone she met. But as the sun began to set and the shadows grew long, their thoughts turned to the night that was to come. The thrill of their secret life was a constant undercurrent, making even the most innocent of touches seem charged with electricity. And as the moon rose high in the sky, they knew that once again, they would be free to indulge in their most primal desires, their actions unseen and unheard by the slumbering inhabitants of 742 Evergreen Terrace.

The days turned into a blur of secret rendezvous and whispered exchanges of cash, as Maggie found herself increasingly drawn to the illicit thrill of trading her body for cold, hard currency. Her father's appetite had awakened a hunger within her, one that seemed insatiable and all-consuming. She grew adept at navigating the seedy underbelly of Springfield, her youthful charm and burgeoning sexuality a siren's song that lured in men with wallets full and morals empty.

Each encounter brought a new level of debauchery, her pussy stretched and filled by a variety of cocks, each more eager than the last to claim her. The whispers of her exploits grew, reaching even the ears of those who had once dismissed her as just a whore's daughter. Yet, in the throes of passion, she reveled in the power she held over these men, their desperation to possess her a heady aphrodisiac that fueled her growing addiction to the sordid trade.

The mornings grew tense around the Simpson household breakfast table, with Homer's eyes frequently straying to Maggie's budding breasts and the slightest hint of her developing ass beneath the table. His thoughts of her grew darker and more depraved as the days passed, his hunger for her flesh a constant, gnawing ache in his loins. Meanwhile, Maggie played the innocent, sipping her juice and pretending not to notice the lecherous glances that her father cast her way. She had become adept at reading the signs of his desire, the subtle adjustments of his tie and the way his eyes lingered on her thighs as she shifted in her seat.

Homer's thoughts grew increasingly depraved as he pondered the future of his precious Maggie. In his twisted mind, her loss of innocence was a mere formality, and he couldn't help but imagine her sweet, tight pussy taking his place in the nightly ritual with Lisa. The idea of offering her up to Mr. Burns once she turned sixteen filled him with a perverse excitement, a chance to climb the corporate ladder with a new currency - his daughter's virtue.

Each bite of his donut grew more deliberate as he envisioned the night she would officially become a woman, her body a commodity to be traded for power and wealth. His cock swelled at the thought of watching her submit to his boss, her screams of pleasure echoing through the office walls, a testament to his own cunning and depravity.

The thought of her cunt being claimed by another mature man was almost too much to bear, but the prospect of the payoff was too sweet to resist. He vowed to keep her close, to mold her into the perfect instrument of his desires, ensuring she remained pure until the day he could sell her to the highest bidder. Little did he know, Maggie was already well on her way to surpassing even his most vile fantasies, her sexual appetite growing with each passing night.

Her nights were no longer spent in the quiet confines of her bedroom, but in the back alleys and dimly lit hotel rooms of the town, her body a canvas for their depraved artistry. And as she lay there, legs spread wide and pussy dripping with the evidence of their lust, she couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride in her newfound career as Springfield's most sought-after underage escort. Her family's sins had become her currency, and she was eager to spend it all in pursuit of the ultimate high: the screaming release of an orgasm bought and paid for with the coins of their depravity.