The Gameshow: Kidnapped Embarrassing Forced Incest - Stella Blackmoon - E-Book

The Gameshow: Kidnapped Embarrassing Forced Incest E-Book

Stella Blackmoon

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I wouldn't have believed it was real unless my home was actually invaded by a bunch of goons who roughed me up before taking me to the studio. In front of a studio audience and millions of digital viewers, my worst nightmare is realized: I have to fuck family and close friends while being tortured with advanced vibrators and shock collars. There's nothing to do but play.


EXCERPT:
I'm sure I heard something this time, someone or something was in our house. It couldn’t have been my brothers, they stayed on campus this break. My dad was never up past ten and Mom was light as a mouse and haunted around like a ghost. What in the actual fuck is going on, I thought and peaked out the window: There was a black unmarked cargo van in our driveway with a single red rabbit painted on the side. It didn’t quite click in my head, everyone thought the game was a sick joke funded by a group of kinky artists, but when I saw the van that I had seen in countless memes, I froze. This can't be happening, there's no way this is real.

I heard one of the stairs pop, that bane of my existence staircase creaked so loud, and I bolted up, my heart hammering. I listened for the creak of my mom’s bed, then heard her thirty-year-old mattress springs squeal — she screamed, naturally; then my dad yelled, which wasn’t good. What the he—, was all he managed before I heard a crash and a sickening thud.

Mom continued screaming and by the ferocity and intensity of her screams, I could have sworn they were pulling her entrails with a rusty spike. I heard another crash, then brief silence before their thunderous footsteps crashed down the hall. There was no more hiding their presence.

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by Stella Blackmoon

Kidnapped Embarrassing Forced Incest

Published by Stella Blackmoon at Lot’s Cave

Kidnapped Embarrassing Forced Incest

The Gameshow, © 2021, Stella Blackmoon

Cover by Stella Blackmoon

All Rights Reserved

All Characters In This Book Are Age 18 Or Older

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the Lot’s Cave website and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Lot’s Cave Novel

www.LotsCave.com

CONTENTS

The Gameshow

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note

Family Exotica

Incest Erotica

Other Novels

by Stella Blackmoon

I'm sure I heard something this time, someone or something was in our house. It couldn’t have been my brothers; they stayed on campus this break. My dad was never up past ten and Mom was light as a mouse and haunted around like a ghost. What in the actual fuck is going on, I thought and peaked out the window: There was a black unmarked cargo van in our driveway with a single red rabbit painted on the side. It didn’t quite click in my head, everyone thought the game was a sick joke funded by a group of kinky artists, but when I saw the van that I had seen in countless memes, I froze. This can't be happening, there's no way this is real.

I heard one of the stairs pop, that bane of my existence staircase creaked so loud, and I bolted up, my heart hammering. I listened for the creak of my mom’s bed, then heard her thirty-year-old mattress springs squeal—she screamed, naturally; then my dad yelled, which wasn’t good. What the he—, was all he managed before I heard a crash and a sickening thud.

Mom continued screaming and by the ferocity and intensity of her screams, I could have sworn they were pulling her entrails with a rusty spike. I heard another crash, then brief silence before their thunderous footsteps crashed down the hall. There was no more hiding their presence.

Our home was being invaded.

CRASH

I closed my eyes expecting to be rolled... but they were in the next room over.

I closed my eyes again and threw the covers over my head, which made it so much worse.

An eternity passed before I heard and felt my door slam open, before the stampede charged at me. One of them laughed as they pulled the blanket off my head. They were all wearing the black silk masks from the show. But this can’t be real; the stupid show just had clever marketing.

A massive man wearing all black with gloves and muscles bulging between his exposed forearms looked at me menacingly and slapped a leather strap across his palm. Unlike my parents, I'm in my prime and it looked like the sick fuck would love to play some games. There would be plenty enough of that, I thought, then saw my smaller window open towards our low roof. I tossed my blankets at the burly men and turned around and jumped towards the window. I was wearing nothing but an old pair of my cozy underwear as I dove and pulled myself through the small window, the brisk early autumn air assaulting my exposed skin.

Almost immediately a vice like hand clamped around my ankle. The goon squeezed and I could hear my bones cracking–I relented and he quickly yanked me, pulling me back to the ground and through the window. The first place his hands found purchase was my panties–and he tugged on them, destroying the waistband and exposing my freshly trimmed slit. My asshole winked at him as he grabbed my other leg and dragged me kicking and screaming through the window.

I had accomplished exactly nothing and now my panties were dangling around my knees. I looked around defeated as one of the camera men gave me a thumbs up.

The biggest, bulkiest of the goons bear hugged me from behind–I felt my back snap–then a hood was pulled over my head as I kicked and screamed and threatened future legal action–same as everyone else really, but the problem is nobody believes it’s real, I think it’s how the game has gone on for so long and how people rationalize actually watching it.

I couldn't see anything as they lead me towards what I assumed was the front door and I screamed, trying to get the attention of the neighbors, then felt a dull thud before sweet darkness.

When I opened my eyes I was in the makeup room that I saw in so many livestream fail clips. I tried to get up, but I already knew the drill. My hands were cuffed to the chair and there were several cameras pointed at my face. I tried screaming into the camera like a mad women, just like everyone else, the exact part where everyone watching always says: it’s so staged look at her.

And I said the same thing, I know. It’s not fake, please help me, this is real–same script different week, as far as the viewers are concerned.

And everyone watched.

Nobody admitted to it, but everyone watched the wild show just hellbent on figuring out what crazy challenges would be in store.

And here I was, naked and tied to a makeup chair getting ready to play this twisted game, as most of the viewers probably watched and fucked or masturbated.

I tried reasoning with the masked makeup woman, but she stood there until I screamed myself into submission, only then would she resume doing my makeup.

They always chose a different theme, but judging by my makeup and hair, I would have had to say it was one of those eighties arena themes. Behind me the makeup woman rolled out a rack of tiny spandex costumes and held a few up to me to gauge my size, then tossed one at me.

I wasn’t ready for the knock at the door: One of the bulky black-masked security guards opened the door and just stared blankly at me and my naked body. I quickly stepped into my jumpsuit–it was skintight and I wasn't wearing underwear. My every curve was highlighted and the pants ran right up my ass.

The guard nodded and motioned for me to follow him. I didn’t want to get fucked up again, so I complied and could feel my tits jiggle every step I took, the thin spandex jumpsuit doing nothing to support me.

I followed the man in black through a maze of set equipment as we made our way out of the darkness and into the lights where I was temporarily blinded and disoriented by the roar of the audience.