Chapter 1112

• The House at Rothsmere was in uproar. Victoria had vanished, taken by that rogue, Sir Thomas Brandon, the notorious slaver. Phillip was in dismay; he had lost his lover and his daughter, and knew that he should have been more wary of Thomas. He knew Thomas would be aroused at the thought of having both of Phillip's daughters, and knew that his trueborn daughter had been violated. Images of her spread beneath Thomas rose in his mind, and he couldn't rid himself of them.
• Worse still, he found himself growing erect as he thought of his sweet daughter being taken by that rogue, her sex opening and ripening for him, her mouth welcoming him into the warm cavern of her throat. He imagined Thomas pumping her full of his seed, Victoria swallowing it down, luxuriating in the taste of it as her father had done. He could see his daughter lying there, her head thrown back in ecstasy, the muscular buttocks of her lover ramming his iron cock into her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in Phillip's ears. He wondered if Thomas had explored further, pushing his fat cock deep into Victoria's secret passage, the pain and pleasure mingling for her as they had done for Phillip. Worst of all, he felt jealousy for Thomas, jealousy that he should have been the one to taste that forbidden fruit first.
• His wife, as usual, blamed him, forgetting that she had been the one who had actively encouraged the liaison. Victoria was their only offspring, conceived in hatred, the baroness disgusted by her husband after only a few short months of marriage. He had always been driven by his cock, and had not, at the time, refined his techniques of seduction. The marital bed had been an unhappy one, and for the Baroness, the memories of sex were unwelcome. They had existed as a couple together only for appearances sake, both leading separate lives. But now, drawn together in worry, the unhappy couple waited for news.