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Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don't own The Simpsons, or any characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes above to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content. This was written for the prompt 'trifecta'

Description: Marge allows herself to be blindfolded and fucked to pay her gambling debt.

Content Codes: mF, bond, inc, preg



Simpsons: Marge's Debt
by JD ([email protected])

Marge Simpson had believed her gambling addiction beaten, but after six years the stress of seeing Bart dropping out of high school just before his 17th birthday brought the urge back. Just like the first time, she started small, had a few wins, a few losses, but before long she was over-betting on long odds and owed Springfield's Mafia more than she could repay. She hedged the last money she had in a tipped trifecta bet on the big race. She lost.

It wasn't long before Fat Tony, brother of the original Springfield mobster of that appellation, came to her with an offer. He was very careful to confirm that it was an offer than could be refused. Unfailingly polite, he suggested he was sure the Simpsons could find another way to repay the money. They certainly had enough adventures involving rich people. If Marge felt her unlucky streak made that outcome unlikely she could take the deal: One of the Mafia's associates had offered to fully repay Marge's debt with two conditions. The first was that she had to stop gambling. Fat Tony assured Marge he would see to it that the Mob did not enable her further. The second was that she had to agree to have sex with the associate.

"He's had an obsession with you for quite some time, Marge. He's young, but cunning, and he has already made us a great deal of money with his inventive schemes. He took a test to show he is disease-free, so you would not need to worry there."

"I don't know. I love Homer..."

"Homer need never know. He has been a good friend of mine; I would not see him hurt. You will not even see this associate; you would be bound and blindfolded, at his request."

"Will it be safe? I mean, does he want to hurt me?"

"He will not harm you. I cannot say you will remain free from harm if your debt goes unpaid. This is not a threat; it is simply an observation of our legitimate business practices."

"Hmm. Well, from your description I know it isn't Moe. I'll do it - I hope this will end my gambling."

Fat Tony took Marge to the back room of the Legitimate Businessmen's Social Club. He helped the very attractive middle aged housewife strip out of her clothing. She blushed to be nude before him. Unfazed, he laced her into a pink corset that displayed her contours and pushed up her breasts. Marge felt very apprehensive about her agreement, but also an unfamiliar thrill. Fat Tony bent her forwards over a solid table, and tied each of her limbs to a leg so that she couldn't move. As the mobster slid the soft pink velvet blindfold across her eyes, Marge realised she was growing aroused rather than fearful.

She could move her head, but the rest of her body was immobilised. She hadn't felt such a frisson of sexual danger since she had discovered public sex with Homer. As Fat Tony left the room, she recalled her beloved husband with a stab of guilt. What would he think of her, kinkily corseted, willingly awaiting an unknown man to fuck her for money? She was almost panting from the mixed fear, arousal, and the unfamiliar tightness of the corset. Quiet footsteps crossed the floor towards her,

"Who's there?"

He didn't answer.

"Are you here for me?"

Marge tried to move her face towards the stranger. She couldn't quite follow his footsteps. Then, a youthful finger brushed a wilted bang of blue hair away from Marge's face. She froze, open mouthed, as he pressed a half-soft cock between her lips. The first unfamiliar cock she had tasted in years - since before Homer. Tentatively, Marge brought her soft lips together around it. He tasted clean, at least, and she began sucking him to full hardness with the skill of her years.

It didn't take long. The stranger stifled his groans as Marge swallowed his length into her throat. After so many years of Homer being the only one, she had forgotten what a larger, thicker cock could feel like stretching her gullet. Enjoying the passion, Marge concentrated on breathing as the stranger fucked her face. She wondered if he would come in her throat, her mouth, or across her face and into her distinctive hair.

He didn't take any of the three options. Instead, he pulled out before coming, and kissed her passionately. Marge panted around his tongue, noting the strong jaw, barely covered in stubble, so different to Homer's flabby face. Still he did not speak, not even as he moved around behind Marge. She felt his fingers probe her, both testing her readiness - she was almost dripping - and increasing the pleasurable warmth building in her belly. She felt his other hand stroking her buttocks, then across the corset.

"How am I worth so much to you?"

Though there was great questioning emotion in Marge's voice, the stranger still remained silent. Having evidently regained control of his climax, she felt his thickness at her entrance. Marge clenched her hands into fists as he penetrated her, sliding easily into her very receptive channel. Marge stiffened, long past the point of no return, as the stranger gripped her hips and began his rhythmic thrusting. She couldn't help but moan her appreciation, until it suddenly struck her that he wasn't using a condom and she was still pre-menopausal.

"Will you pull out?"

The stranger started thrusting harder, faster, as if the idea of impregnating Marge excited him. She was close, too close, and the new tempo he set was too much. Marge bit her lip, not wanting to be heard through the club, as she climaxed. Everything about the situation had combined to bring her off harder than she'd managed in years. The stranger too, stiffened, and forgetting himself cried,

"­Ay, caramba!"

Marge knew him as his heat spurted inside. Their son would be his brother.

End

    

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