The Wilcox Report

Story by melvincrass

Disclaimer: This piece includes incest. Also, this piece involves the affirmation of the rape myth--basically, the idea that women liked to be forced into sex. The author doesn't support the idea of the rape myth, it is simply being used because this is erotic fiction.

Author's Note: This obviously looks like the beginning of a series. If people want me to continue, I'll probably do so. If not, I don't know; still might, but we'll see.

Enjoy!

- Melvin CRASS!

THE WILCOX REPORT

Additive Revenge

The door stood open and a silhouette of a woman broke the image of the pouring rain outside. She took a few steps inside, obviously haggard from the rain.

"You look terrible." The voice came from a lavish chair that sat in the middle of the dark room. A click sounded through the room and a flight flooded overhead to show a woman dressed in a blood-red skirtsuit, well-muscled legs crossed over each other, her bust evident and accentuated by the cut of her fabric. Her dark red hair hung over her face, covering over one eye and giving her a rather sinister look. Plump red looks stood out from her tanned features. To say she had model looks was to go too short; she was the image of a goddess or some succubus.

The woman in the door might have looked nearly as good if she hadn't been drenched. In what had been a chalky-pink dress before the rain ruined it, the woman was well-curved, breasts jutting away from her chests like fat beacons, child-bearing hips still wonderfully enticing. Her legs were clad in thigh-high sheer stockings and her face was obscured by a veil, but not well. "Miss…"

"Madam," the woman in the chair corrected. "Yes?"

"Madam, I come to ask a favor of you." The woman who had just entered shuffled forward a bit. The woman in the chair curved her lips in a wicked, but reserved, smile.

"I thought you had," she said. "There's no other reason the mayor's wife would visit the evil, disgusting Madam Sinclair."

Don't fuck with me! the wife of the mayor thought, but she suppressed it. "Madam…"

"On your knees." The mayor's wife hesitated for a bit, but when Madam Sinclair lifted her eyebrow, she sank down shudderlingly. "Shuffle towards me."

"Madam…" She shuffled as ordered, grumbling inwardly at the indecency of it.

"Yes, Ms. Adams?" Madam Sinclair asked, her voice condescending.

"I want you to… deal with her." Ms. Adams reached into her breast pocket, pushing it a bit as she extracted the photo. She showed it to Madam Sinclair and the woman snatched it up, examining her. "Danielle Wilcox."

"I know her." Danielle Wilcox had been a supermodel before moving to the suburb of Terrace Heights with her billionaire husband, William Wilcox. When he had died… well, it was enough that he had awarded her everything. She was smart enough not to keep living in that mansion; this way, she could live without working for her entire lifetime. "Do you want me to have her killed, then?"

"No," Ms. Adams said quickly. "No killing. I just want you to… ruin her."

"A social assassination, then?" Ms. Adams nodded. Madam Sinclair wasn't interested in her reasons. "Committed to memory. It will be done." Madam Sinclair ripped up the picture and tossed it aside. She looked back at the mayor's wife. "You realize there is a price."

"Of course," Ms. Adams said. "I'm willing to pay you ten thousand. Twenty thousand." Madam Sinclair lifted her eyebrow again, studying Ms. Adams. It was then that Ms. Adams noticed that the red-clad woman was peeling back her skirt. Her mouth hung open just a bit as she noticed what just flopped out there. So the rumors were true. She hadn't wanted to believe it and she hadn't cared until this moment. "S-so… you want me t-to suck you off?"

"If you'd be so kind." Madam Sinclair's voice dripped with a sexy arrogance that many people found alluring. Ms. Adams, however, wasn't really wowed; she had to do this, so she would. She shuffled close and put her slightly-trembling hands on Madam Sinclair's hips. She hadn't done this in years, not since she'd stopped taking her husband's wrinkly cock. She licked her lips noisily. "Don't waste my time, Ms. Adams."

Traci Adams, the mayor's wife, the elite socialite in Terrace Heights, could not believe what she was about to do. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, scooping up Madam Sinclair's head between her plump lips, sucking just a tad. "Mmph!" she moaned, bringing her hand down and using a two-finger-and-thumb grip to hold it up so she could take more in her mouth; she didn't want to touch this thing more than she had to.

"Afraid of it?" Madam Sinclair asked, merriment in her voice. "Come on, I know you can gobble cock better than that." Traci noticed that the thing was already stiffening in her mouth and, to her horror, it was growing exponentially. Her eyes went wide as she

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