The jolt of sensation is sharp, almost painful, and rocks me. My legs quiver, and I have to brace myself against the wall. I hear a groan from Baron and open my eyes to see him stroking his slick cock up and down with a strong hand.
“See, you can do it. You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?”
I’m nothing more than a visual to him. His eyes are focused on me the same way as if he were watching a movie. I move my finger slowly, circling my clitoris, sending pulses of pleasure through my body. The contrast of feelings inside me is like rays of sunshine breaking through a terrible storm. Despite my humiliation, I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips.
“That sweet, teenage body of yours has my cock throbbing, princess,” Baron groans, stepping closer. Isn’t this enough? Is he going to rape me now? “Those tits make all the boys want you, and that ass makes them want to breed you. I could take you right now and pump that virgin cunt with my cock and make you mine. You know that, don’t you?”
My hand stops, but Baron’s doesn’t. I can hear the sound of the slickness of his palm as it moves up and down. But I don’t look. There’s no way I’m going to give him the satisfaction.
“You’ve never even seen a cock before. I can see it in your eyes. I’d tear that virgin pussy apart with this, princess. You wouldn’t prance around the house looking sexy after that. Hell, you wouldn’t even be walking.”
He’s right. His cock scares me. Just the thought of it being inside me makes me want to close my legs. But I can’t. I have to finish what I’ve started, but I’m not sure what more he wants from me.
“You’re going to come for me now, princess.” Baron’s hand moves faster on his cock, and he steps so close to me that it’s practically touching my slit. I’m wet, but I know I shouldn’t be. Not like this. My chest is quaking as I apply more pressure, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to get there. This is worse than singing in public, and I hate singing in public.
“Please, Baron. I don’t think I can.”
“Don’t be stupid. Either you make yourself come like you have so many times before, or I spread that pussy with this cock. Be lucky I’m even giving you a choice.”
I can’t stop them anymore. The tears begin to fall.
They stream down my cheeks like rainfall against glass. A sound that could either be a groan or a chuckle comes from Baron’s chest, and I choke back a sob.
“Faster. Come or I’m taking that pussy.”
It’s all I can do to keep it together. How am I supposed to do that? But I obey his command and move my finger faster and try to pretend I’m somewhere else. But each time I feel myself rising to a climax, my thoughts rip me down to earth like iron chains attached to my ankles.
“I can’t,” I whimper.
“Fine,” Baron growls. “I’ll do it for you.”
He inches forward, and I brace myself, expecting to feel him enter me. But that’s not what happens. Instead, he slaps my hand away, and I feel the hot strength of the tip of his cock spread me open, but just slightly, not enough to go inside. I open my eyes and look down as he caresses my clitoris with his swollen crown.
His legs are spread like a cowboy riding a horse, and his eyes are fixed on mine. But I can’t look at him. It’s all I can do to keep from falling over as he massages my button with his manhood, adding his wetness to my own. Spit and pre-cum mix with my own juices, and I feel a wash of shame sweep over me as my stepfather brings me to orgasm.
And not just any orgasm. The orgasm of my life.
I almost fall, but Baron catches me by the hair and holds me up like a ragdoll. My body convulses against the wall, and I feel a spurt of slick, sticky warmth and look down to see a milky white spray shoot out of his cock, coating my womanhood in a thick white glaze.
As if it wasn’t enough to do this to me, he has to mark me too.
“A man’s release,” he whispers. “This is what your teasing gets you into, princess. Understand now?”
I nod,
praying it’s all over and he’s going to let me go now. So I can shower…
Slowly, using his thumb and forefinger, Baron milks the last of his cum out of his cock and onto my thigh. As it slowly slides down my skin, he looks up at me like I’m a delicious dessert and he’s debating on whether or not to have seconds.
“By the way, princess. Don’t even think about telling your mother about this,” he warns me. “If you do, I’ll chuck you both out of this house tomorrow and tie up the divorce in so many years of litigation that you’ll be living on the streets by Friday. Imagine what all those men out there would do with a girl like you.”
There’s no regret in his eyes. No shame like the shame I’m feeling. In fact, he looks at me now as though he owns me, completely and utterly. How could a stepfather do this to his stepdaughter and go upstairs to her mother? Finally, he lets go of his grip on my hair, and I slump down to the floor, covered in his release, eyes on his boots, listening as he tucks himself back into his pants.
He takes a step back, but my relief is short-lived as he moves back and kneels down over me. “Remember, you made me do this, princess. And you can thank me tomorrow from saving you from that prick Harry. Goodnight.”
As if it couldn’t get any worse, Baron’s parting gift is a peck on the forehead, the way someone would kiss their dog.
My stepfather. My rapist.