I stumbled through the doorway of my childhood home, my suitcases feeling heavier than ever before. The weight wasn't from the clothes I'd packed, but from the dread that had settled in my stomach the moment Uncle Fred's eyes had latched onto my chest last night. His leer had made my skin crawl, his hand reaching out to cup my 30F breasts as if they were ripe fruit to be picked at his leisure.

The Christmas lights twinkled in the corner, casting a soft glow across the living room where the tree stood, tall and proud, a silent witness to my humiliation. I tried to shake off the memory as I made my way to my room, but my heart was racing, and I could feel the imprint of Uncle Fred's fingers on my skin, even through the fabric of my corset. Now it seemed that even my own family saw me as nothing more than a pair of tits to be used and discarded.

Uncle Fred went back to the living room and joking my dad and Uncle Tom. They were drinking beer till the midnight. I was just changing to my new satin dress and go to bed. Suddenly, Uncle Tom's footsteps echoed through the hallway, heavy and purposeful, sending shivers down my spine. He pushed the door open without knocking, his eyes dark and hungry. "Dumb blonde girl," he sneered, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, he was very tipsy. "You think you can just tease your big tits in that tiny corset and not get what's coming to you?"

Trembling, I backed away from him, my eyes darting around the room for an escape that wasn't there. "Please, Uncle Tom," I whimpered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to-"

He didn't let me finish. With a swift movement, he grabbed my dress and ripped it. My hair cascaded around my face, a curtain of gold shielding me from the horror that was unfolding. I felt his hand on the clasp of my bra, pressing against my spine as he deftly unhooked it. The fabric fell away, exposing my breasts to the cool air. They bounced slightly from the sudden release, the pink tips of my nipples puckering from the chill and the fear that had taken over my body.

"Look at these," he said, his voice gruff with lust as he cupped my breasts, squeezing them roughly. "Perfect. Just like I knew they'd be." His thumbs grazed my areolas, sending a jolt of unwanted pleasure through me. I gritted my teeth, hating myself for the traitorous response of my body.

He stepped closer, pushing me back onto the bed with surprising strength. His hands traveled down my body, fumbling with the button of my jeans. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he whispered, "You're going to be a good little whore for me, aren't you?"

My cheeks burned with shame as the word 'whore' left his mouth. It was like a slap across the face, and I knew there was no escaping the truth of it now. My heart was hammering in my chest as he yanked my pants down, exposing my pale thighs and the lacy panties I'd chosen so carefully that morning, hoping they would be hidden beneath my Christmas sweater.

As he pushed my legs apart, the fabric of the bed rubbed against my skin, sending goosebumps down my thighs. "I knew you'd be a slut," he murmured, his hand sliding down to cup my mound over my panties. "Just like your mother." His words stung, but I couldn't find the strength to fight back.

With a wicked grin, Uncle Tom pulled out his phone and held it up, the camera pointed at my face. "Now, Bella," he said, his voice dripping with malice, "I want you to tell me your name, your age, and the size of those gorgeous tits of yours." My mouth was dry as I looked into the camera, tears threatening to spill over my lashes.

"B-Bella," I stuttered, my voice shaking. "I'm 19, and they're 30F."

The words fell out of my mouth like a confession, and Uncle Tom chuckled, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties. "Good girl," he cooed, his eyes never leaving the camera. "Now, tell me, are you enjoying showing your tits to Uncle Fred?"

I felt a hot tear slip down my cheek as I nodded, my voice thick with unshed sobs. "Y-yes," I lied, the word sticking in my throat like a piece of coal.

With a victorious grin, Uncle Tom leaned back and started to record. "Say it," he ordered, his voice like a whip cracking through the quiet room. "Tell me how much you love showing your tits to Uncle Fred."

I felt my soul crumple as the words left my mouth, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "I love showing Uncle Tom my tits," I murmured, trying to keep the sob from my voice.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's what I thought," he said, before dropping the phone onto the bed beside me. His hands went to the zipper of his own pants, and he pulled out a thick, veiny cock that seemed to pulse with his excitement. "Now, I'm going to show you what happens to little girls who can't keep their clothes on."

I felt his hand on my chin, tilting it up so that I had to look into his eyes. They were cold, so unlike the warmth I'd seen in Uncle Fred's last night. "You're going to get on your knees, and you're going to show me what you can do with those big, beautiful tits of yours," he said, his voice low and demanding.

My knees hit the floor with a thud, the plush carpet doing little to cushion the impact. I stared at his cock, feeling a mix of fear and revulsion as it grew harder and larger with each passing second. "Please," I whispered again, my voice barely audible, but he just chuckled.

"You're going to love this, Bella," he said, his tone that of a sadistic teacher speaking to a disobedient student. "I'm going to show your Daddy just how eager you are to be a good little whore for us." He reached down, grabbing my wrists and placing them on either side of his cock. "Now, squeeze those tits together and get to work."

My hands trembled as I obeyed, the weight of my breasts in my palms feeling foreign and wrong. I pressed them together, creating a warm, tight channel for him to thrust into. His eyes widened with lust, watching the scene unfold in front of him as if it were the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. "Look at that," he murmured, his voice thick with excitement. "Just like you were made for it, baby girl."

The words were like acid, burning my skin and searing my soul. I knew what he was going to do with the video. He'd show it to his navy buddies, those rough, lonely men who hadn't felt a woman's touch in what felt like an eternity. They'd watch me, this innocent, naive girl, being used by my own family members, and they'd salivate over my body, my big tits bouncing and jiggling with every stroke of Uncle Tom's cock.

"You're going to be the talk of the boat," he said, his voice a low growl. "All my friends will see just how much of a slut you really are." The thought of it made me feel sick, but the fear of being exposed and shamed kept me in place. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the reality of what was happening.

I could feel his cock, hot and insistent, sliding between my tits. The feeling was strange, the smoothness of his skin against the softness of mine. He was rough, pushing me down onto him, forcing my breasts to engulf his length. The smell of his sweat and lust filled my nose, and I had to bite my lip to keep from gagging. "Look at you," he said, his voice thick with pleasure, "just begging for it."

"Yeah," I murmured, trying to sound convincing. "I want it, Uncle Tom." The lie felt like a knife twisting in my gut, but I knew that was what he wanted to hear. His eyes never left the camera, watching as I worked his cock with my tits. "You're going to be the star of the show, baby," he whispered, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "All those lonely sailors, dreaming of home. And here you'll be, giving them a taste of what they've been missing."

He leaned back, his grip on my wrists tightening, urging me to move faster. The sound of my tits smacking against each other filled the room, a sickening symphony to my own degradation. I could feel his cock swelling, growing harder and hotter with every stroke. "That's it," he groaned, his voice strained with lust. "Just like that."

"You know, Bella," he said, panting slightly, "my buddies out at sea haven't seen tits in a year. They're desperate, just like me." His thumbs dug into my skin, his eyes never leaving the camera. "But now, thanks to you, they'll have something to jerk off to."

The words stung, but I knew better than to argue. I focused on the sensation of his cock sliding over my skin, the wetness from his pre-cum making it easier for him to glide between my tits. The smell of sex was thick in the air, a potent mix of his arousal and my fear.

"Keep going," Uncle Tom grunted, his eyes never leaving the camera. "You're going to make them all so happy." His grip tightened, guiding my hands to pump faster. I could feel the muscles in my arms straining, but I didn't dare stop. The thought of his navy friends watching this video, jerking off to the sight of me, made my stomach turn, but I also knew that if I didn't play along, it would only get worse.

"Bella," he snapped, "I want to hear you say it again. The size of your tits." His eyes bore into mine, and I knew he was waiting for me to repeat my humiliation. My voice trembled as I complied, "They're 30F, Uncle Tom."

"Big fucking fat ripe young tits," he corrected, his voice a sneer. "Say it."

The words were acid in my mouth, but I knew the cost of disobedience. "Big fucking fat ripe young tits." I murmured, my voice shaking, my eyes downcast.

With a triumphant grin, Uncle Tom's thrusts grew more erratic, his hips bucking as he approached climax. His eyes remained glued to the camera, as if he were fucking it rather than me. "That's right," he said, his voice strained with effort. "Tell everyone how much of a slut you are."

Suddenly, he pulled away, and I felt a warm, sticky spurt of cum hit my cheek. My eyes snapped open in surprise, my breath catching in my throat as more jettisoned onto my tits. It was thick and sticky, pooling in the crevice between my breasts, the smell of his release filling the room. He came with a roar, the sound of it echoing through the silent house, a declaration of his victory over my innocence.

As the last drops of cum fell onto my skin, Uncle Tom leaned back, panting heavily. He looked down at me, a mix of disgust and satisfaction etched on his face. "Good girl," he said, his voice a sneer. "You're going to make them so happy." He grabbed a towel from the floor beside the bed, tossing it at me like I was a dirty object to be wiped clean. "Clean up," he ordered, his voice cold and detached. "And don't you dare tell anyone what happened here. If you do, I'll make sure everyone knows just how much of a whore you really are." When he left, I noticed my panties were wet.