My Stepson the Psychopath
Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, Ma/ft, mt/Fa, Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Mult, NonConsensual, Rape, Coercion, Drunk/Drugged, Slavery, Heterosexual, Fiction, BDSM, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Rough, Light Bond, Humiliation, Torture, Gang Bang, Interracial, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Bestiality, Water Sports, Cream Pie, Spitting, Exhibitionism, Needles, Public Sex, School,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young single mother of a thirteen year old girl finally meets the man of her dreams. But her dream is turned into a nightmare when she falls prey to her fifteen year old stepson. This story ends at the beginning. I'll start the finish if there's enough interest.

Sometimes things happen so slowly that a situation gets out of hand before you notice you're heading into one. You live your life. One thing leads to another. Life is just one supposedly unrelated event after another and you don't even realize at first that they're connected until you pause, take a deep breath and start looking back.

I became pregnant the night I lost my virginity in the summer of my sixteenth year. The guy was hot but we weren't in love. I was visiting my older sister for a couple of months while school was out. She and her new husband were living in Oklahoma. Her husband was in the Army and had just been sent to Korea for a year. She was young, alone and lonely and at the time my parents and I were getting on each other's nerves. It's what teenagers do. Everyone agreed it would be a good idea if we spent some time apart and I kept my sister company.

As it turned out, my sister wasn't as lonely as she should have been. She was getting far too friendly with a soldier from the office where she worked on base. I remember being kind of proud of her. She was always the good sister. Growing up she never got in trouble. I don't know if her atypical behavior since her husband went overseas had anything to do with what happened to me. I do know that it provided me with the opportunity to do what I did.

I started spending most of my time at one of the swimming pools on base. I met a guy there, a young G.I. who was only seventeen, a year older than me. My sister wasn't happy about it but given her own behavior she wasn't in a position to say much to me about my dating habits.

Anyway, I ended up having sex with the guy one time. I became living proof that sometimes the nuns are right. The next thing I knew I was pregnant.

Skip ahead fourteen years. I'm the single mother of a beautiful thirteen year old girl. I'm self supporting and reasonably happy. Life isn't perfect. But whose life is?

I had returned to my strict catholic home when it became known that I was pregnant. I gave birth to my baby and refused to give her up for adoption despite my father's best efforts to convince me that I should. Looking back I have to admit that my parents provided a lot of help and support to my daughter and me. But they gave it grudgingly and in such a way that it led to a lot of resentment.

I surprised more than a few people when I graduated from high school. I already had a pretty good idea about what I wanted to do next. I took classes at the local Tech College. I became a court reporter which, as it turns out, actually pays a living wage if you're any good at it and can find the right position.

The irony of my life is that in my entire life those few dates I went on with the young G.I. who impregnated me were the only dates I ever had! My parents didn't let me date, insisting that I needed to worry about my studies and spend time with my daughter. Of course there was always the unspoken, "Look what happened to you the last time you went out with a boy," to deal with.

I quickly became a very good court reporter. I was soon able to afford a reasonably priced apartment and my daughter and I built a life together. I didn't start dating until Kenzie, short for Mackenzie, was ten.

As it turns out, dating must be something that you get better at if you practice. I sucked at it. Either that or I was very good at accepting dates from all the wrong men, not that I did it a lot. I went ten years without a date and then went on three dates on three different weekends with three different men.

They were all disasters. I seemed to have nothing in common with men my age. Being a parent matures a person. And because I have a child, a child born out of wedlock, they all seemed to assume that I was easy. I decided to back up and regroup.

Months passed before I agreed to go out on another date. It wasn't a disaster. But it left a lot to be desired. For the next couple of years I probably went out on a date two or three times a year at the most. It didn't get any better. I couldn't decide if all men are jerks or if I was just fishing in the wrong pond.

Then one day I met a man. It happened when I took Kenzie down to the pool one afternoon. I don't let her go to the pool unless I'm there. I don't think that's being overprotective. There's no lifeguard on duty.

One of the benefits of my job is that I tend to get sent home during the day. It happens frequently when trials are postponed or the defendant pleads out. I normally spend that time working on trial records. But if I'm caught up I get a paid afternoon off. On this day I was home on a beautiful, sunny day. Kenzie and I had the pool to ourselves when an older but very good looking gentleman showed up to swim.

He joined us after he completed swimming his laps. He and I talked while we watched Kenzie floating on an inflatable raft in the pool. I learned that he moved into an apartment after selling the home he'd shared with his ex-wife. He's building a new home but it's still under construction. Depending on delays he could be staying at the apartment complex anywhere from two to four more months.

Apparently what I needed all along was an older man! Dave and I hit it off right from the start. He's intelligent, handsome, self assured, and god, can he make me laugh! It wasn't just me, either. Kenzie took to him immediately.

I was a little nervous at first when I saw him with Kenzie. There are all those stories in the news about men who like young girls. And at times I got the impression that Dave was more interested in Kenzie than in me. Although only thirteen, Kenzie has been maturing rapidly lately. She has outgrown her training bras. She's ready for an AA now. But I've been putting off taking her for new bras, probably because it bothers me that she needs an adult bra. She's growing up much too quickly to suit me and moving up to an adult bra is a major milestone in a girl's life. I'm just not ready for her to stop being my little girl.

I had the impression that Dave was not unaware of my little girl's developing body and that scared me. He always seemed to have his hand on her whenever she was close enough, though never in an area of her body that he shouldn't. I watched him closely, though, and I soon convinced myself that I was overreacting and calmed down.

I calmed down even more when I learned that he has a son who is fourteen and about to turn fifteen. Dave is divorced and has custody of the boy who is spending a few weeks this summer with his mother in another part of the state. I felt much better about him when I learned that he's a parent.

He asked me out for dinner and I didn't even have to think about it. I said, "Yes. I'd love to, if I can find a babysitter on short notice."

He smiled and replied, "Babysitter?! We don't need no stinkin' babysitter!"

I learned the way to a single mother's heart in that moment. Happily make her child a part of the bargain! He honestly didn't mind at all that I have a child and he wanted her to join us. I was excited because with Kenzie there I could get to know him better without having to worry about ending up in a wrestling match at the end of the evening. We had a chaperone! I was hooked!

That first date went so well that Dave and I started dating regularly. He understood that I haven't had a lot of experience and he was very patient with me. He turned out to be just what I need, the perfect man. On our fourth date I decided that since Kenzie is about to turn fourteen she's old enough that she no longer needs a babysitter. I left her with a pizza and a couple of soft drinks and let her know that I'd be nearby having dinner with Dave if she needed anything.

That evening I went to his apartment for dinner. I learned that he's an expert in the kitchen. Even more exciting, I discovered that he's even better in the bedroom! In anticipation of a night like this I had talked to my doctor and I was now taking birth control pills for the first time in my life.

The one other time I had sex, the night I lost my virginity at the age of sixteen, left a lot to be desired. It was exciting, but less than satisfying; much less. Since then I've been responsible for my own orgasms. They're okay, I guess. But they leave a lot to be desired, like the strong arms and passionate kisses of a man for instance.

Dave quickly showed me what I've been missing. We made love for hours that first night. When I finally could delay no longer and reluctantly returned home to my daughter I was his biggest fan. I don't think my feet touched the ground all the way back to my apartment. He walked me back to my door with his arm around me and after he kissed me goodnight, a long, passionate, earthshaking kiss, I almost begged him to stay.

It was almost four weeks from the day that I met Dave that I met his son, Casey. I suppose he's a typical teenage boy. He turned fifteen while staying with his mother. I thought he was large for fifteen. But his father is a large man. I suppose I should have expected that. I actually have to look up when I talk to him. He's already closing in on six feet tall.

I'm not that knowledgeable when it comes to teenage boys. Casey struck me as moody, sulky, and much more recalcitrant than he needed to be, even more obstinate than the average teenager. I couldn't decide if that was because he was spoiled rotten or because he resented me for taking the place of his mother in his father's affections. I did my best, though. I went out of my way to get him to like me.

Kenzie goes to school with him. They're in the same grade because Casey stayed back a year. She's seen him around school but she doesn't know him. They never spoke at school. She couldn't remember ever speaking to him even though they've taken classes together. As far as she knows, none of her friends have anything to do with him, either. Her impression is that he's a bit of a bully but it could have just been that people are intimidated by his size and his often moody appearance.

He's a good looking kid; I suppose you'd still call him a kid. He's tall and athletic. He dresses well, not sloppy like so many kids these days. It may just be that I'm not that knowledgeable about teenage boys, but something about him makes me nervous. Sometimes when I looked at him and he didn't know I was around I thought I saw something predatory about him, especially if he was looking at Kenzie.

I had to keep a close watch on him when he was with Kenzie. Whether or not he's a bully at school he's a bit of a bully when he's around Kenzie. I tried talking to him about it. But it was obvious that nothing I said was going to get through to him. I considered talking to Dave about it but I thought it was too soon. Things were going too well between Dave and me to let his son screw it up.

My relationship with Dave continued to blossom and despite my vow that I would never live with a man to whom I was not married, less than two months from the time we met we were living together.

When I accepted Dave's proposal to cohabitate I worried about what I was going to tell Kenzie. But Dave asked if he could talk to her and since I had no idea what to say I was more than happy to let him. Whatever he said to her it was the right thing. She was happy to have a dad at last and she was happy that it was him.

My deeply religious parents were not so easily pleased. Even when they learned that Dave owns his own successful business and is moderately wealthy they couldn't abide their daughter living in sin. And after they discovered that Dave isn't catholic they pretty much shut us out of their lives.

They've helped me raise Kenzie since she was born and they wanted to maintain a relationship with her. They would pick her up and take her to the zoo or out for a movie or something. They invited Casey along on one of their excursions shortly after Dave and I moved in together. But when they brought the kids back that evening my mother took me aside and said, "There's something not quite right about that boy, Sandi. I'd advise you not to leave him alone with Kenzie. I don't trust him."

I hated to admit that I felt the same way about the boy who's about to become my stepson.

Even the news of the engagement couldn't change my parent's minds about us. Dave and I were not welcome in their home. And in a very short time when we finally decided to get married they refused to attend the wedding. Never mind that my child was born out of wedlock. They couldn't condone my marriage to a divorced man who had no intention of converting to their religion.

Fuck them!

When I accepted Dave's marriage proposal he suggested that I quit work. We certainly wouldn't need the money. Kenzie and I have lived pretty well since I started working. But there was never a time when I didn't have to watch my money closely. Now, though, my money problems are over. There was a time that I thought I'd like being a stay at home mom. That's changed since I've gotten good at what I do. I enjoy my job. It's interesting and I work with some very nice people. I'm one of those lucky people who enjoy going to work in the morning.

But when I explained that to Dave and he made it clear that it wasn't really a suggestion. He was raised to believe that a woman should be a full time housewife and mother and he really didn't want me working.

It occurred to me that Dave has a lot of ideas about women that I found offensive in the past. But for some reason it seemed different with Dave. I didn't feel offended so much as protected. He was almost as much a father figure as a lover and fiancé.

So I gave the people at work my notice. It turned out to be even harder to say goodbye to them than I thought it would be. But it was a choice I was more than willing to make. I've been happier since I met Dave than at any other time in my life. And I can't deny that it's an incredible relief to no longer have to worry about finances and unexpected expenses cropping up and tearing a chunk out of my budget.

The more I thought about it the more fond I was becoming of the prospect of being taken care of. I mean, if someone wants to take care of you that means they really love you. Right?

I still had concerns about Casey. The kid is sneaky and just a little scary. We celebrated Kenzie's fourteenth birthday but that milestone made it no easier for her to deal with Casey. He picked on her a lot, but from what she told me it was much worse when I wasn't around. I was concerned enough that I finally brought it up with Dave one night.

He insisted that it was just a phase; that the boy was prone to that sort of behavior anyway just because he's a teenager. He agreed with me that his son probably resents me for taking the place of his mother. But he insisted that the boy would get over it. He was sure that he wouldn't actually step over the line with Kenzie. I wasn't so certain. But it was obvious that Dave considered the matter closed.

I could only hope that after the wedding my future stepson would accept that I'm a permanent part of his life and we could slowly begin to develop a relationship. The day of the wedding came and went. We moved into the new house not long after. If anything Casey just got worse once we married and our relationship was sanctioned by the state. He was careful to tone it down when his father was around. But when Dave was at work the boy was insufferable.

To make things worse, he began to act up in other ways. Kenzie came to me several times to complain that Casey has been trying to catch her without her clothes on, both in her bedroom and in the bathroom. And she was certain that he was going through her dresser doing something we both realized we'd rather not know about in her underwear drawer.

I suspected the same thing. On half a dozen occasions I opened the drawer I keep my panties in and knew that someone had been going through them. I finally felt that I had to confront him. The next time it happened I cornered him in the kitchen after school and asked him about it. The little asshole just smirked at me, shrugged and said, "Yeah. So what?"

The little bastard actually sounded proud of himself! He was daring me to make something of it!

While I stared at him in shock he grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator and went upstairs. I just watched him go, too stunned to speak until I heard him on the stairs. It was a minute or two before I came to my senses and realized I couldn't leave it at that. I hate confrontations. But I knew that I had to go after him.

I hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to Casey's room. I was passing Kenzie's room when I heard a noise that drew my attention. I tapped on her door and peeked in to find her struggling to escape from Casey. He had his arms around her. His hands were gripping the cheeks of her butt, pulling her body against his and he was trying to kiss her.

Once more I was shocked speechless. He must have heard me coming up the stairs! I even knocked on the damn door! It was as though he wanted me to find him here like this! He totally ignored me until just before I could reach him and jerk him away from my daughter.

I was reaching out my hand when he turned, smiled at me calmly and said, "Just a minute. I'll be right with you. I'm trying to get a kiss from my hot new sister. You want us to get along, don't you?"

That was the last straw! I jerked him away from her and slapped him as hard as I could. I grabbed his collar and pulled him out of Kenzie's room, slamming her door behind me. He allowed me to pull him down the hallway to his room but as soon as we were inside he turned, gripped my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back painfully.

I've already described my strong, athletic stepson. In contrast, I'm just a fraction over five foot two and very slender. I weigh a hundred and five pounds, give or take a few. I'm in reasonably good shape but I'm not an athlete. Even if I was I'd be no match for Casey.

He closed his door and pushed me up against it, all while I was still too stunned to speak or struggle.

My face and body were pressed against his door, my arm still held behind my back. I was helpless. He inched closer until he was pressing his body firmly against mine, making it hard for me to breathe. I could feel his cock pressing against the cheek of my ass. The little bastard has a hard on!

I finally managed to snarl, "You little monster! Turn me loose this instant. You're in so much trouble!"

He chuckled, not intimidated in the least. I felt so helpless that it made me furious. And then it got worse. His hand reached around, squeezed between me and the door and grabbed my breast. I almost screamed. The only reason I didn't was that I feared Kenzie would come running. I couldn't bear the thought of her seeing me like this.

He began kneading my breast. Not in an attempt to turn me on or even to turn himself on I don't think. His grip was cruel. I think he was hurting me on purpose. He leaned closer and nuzzled my shoulder length blonde hair out of the way. His lips were right at my ear. He kissed my earlobe and quietly asked, "What's the matter, mom?"

It was the first time he ever called me mom. But the snide, derisive way he pronounced the word made it sound like an obscenity.

He pressed his cock more firmly against my ass and asked, "Don't you want me and my sister to get along? It isn't really incest if I fuck her, you know. We aren't really related. And you can't blame me for wanting to stick my dick in her. The girl is hot. She has great tits for a fourteen year old, don't you think?"

How can a sane person respond to something like that?! I could only struggle to pull away. He didn't even seem to notice. I was pinned to the door like a captured butterfly specimen. The more I tried to fight my way out of his grip the more pressure he put on my arm until I finally couldn't stand the pain any longer and stopped trying to get away.

He kissed my neck and said, "There. That's better. This will be a lot easier on both of us if you just relax."

This? What the hell does he mean by "this"?!

I shivered in revulsion when he lapped my neck like an ice cream cone. Then, still infuriatingly calm and totally in charge he said, "I get the impression that you don't want me to fuck Kenzie."

He rubbed his hard cock against my ass and asked, "Does that mean you want me to fuck you instead? I have this hard on and I'm going to have to put it somewhere. How about it, mom? Would you rather that I fuck you? Are you into young stuff? I think you'll enjoy it. I only just turned fifteen. But I have a real nice cock."

Tears of anger and frustration were streaming down my cheeks. I finally forced myself to calm down a little and tried to reason with the little bastard. I cleared my throat and quietly but firmly said, "You have to let me go, Casey. You can't do this. And I can't let you be in this house with my daughter. I want you to let me go and leave this house. Don't return until your father gets home. Then we can talk about this.

"I can see that you're never going to accept me as your father's wife. Maybe you should go live with your mother. Maybe you..."

He chuckled evilly and said, "I don't want to leave now, mom. We're just starting to get close."

His hand, which was still kneading my breast, moved to the top button of my blouse. He struggled with the button for a moment before giving up and violently jerking my blouse open all the way down to my waist.

I gasped and started to struggle again. But he quickly put an end to that by jerking up on my arm, nearly dislocating my shoulder.

I had no choice but to stop struggling. As soon as I did, he calmly worked his hand into my blouse and cupped my breast again. Now only my thin, lacy bra separated his hand from my breast.

I groaned and said, "This is rape, Casey. They'll lock you up for this."

He didn't seem concerned. He eased my bra up over my breasts and as his hand clamped down on my exposed left tit he replied, "Maybe. But probably not. I'm only fifteen, just a kid really. And when I tell them about how you and Kenzie have been teasing me since we started living together they'll probably think you have it coming."

That was patently ridiculous. I didn't even bother to respond. Not to his statement. Since making demands wasn't working I tried asking him nicely to release me. His response was to clamp down on my nipple with his thumb and forefinger until the pain took my breath away and I cried out.

I felt a glimmer of hope when he withdrew his hand from my breast. I should have known better. He reached up over my head and locked his door with the padlock that was hanging from the hasp there. I've seen the hasp and padlock there when I came into his room to get his laundry. I certainly had no objections. I didn't mind at all if he wanted to lock himself in his room. I thought it was a good place for him. I'd have felt safer if the lock were on the outside of the door. Now I found myself locked in his room with him and I was getting more scared by the second. This little bastard is really going to rape me!!

I thought he might release my arm once the door was locked. There was a chance I could fight him off, scratch him, hurt him enough that he'd give up, lose interest; but not much of a chance. He's much larger and much stronger and I'm totally convinced now that he's a psychopath. I mean that literally. It isn't an attempt at hyperbole.

I've been the court reporter in the trial of several of these creatures. They're dangerous. No amount of reasoning or pleading or threatening will change his mind about a course of action once he's decided to do something.

What worries me even more than the fact that I'm about to be raped is that psychopaths are, as a general rule, usually quite intelligent. What he's doing to me now in his bedroom isn't something he's doing because the occasion presented itself. He must have thought about doing what he's doing now. This isn't a spur of the moment attack. He planned this. Therefore, he thinks he can get away with raping me. He isn't afraid of the law or of his father. He has something planned to either keep me from reporting him or to discredit anything I say.

I felt his hand on my body again, sliding up over my stomach toward my breast. Neither of us spoke until my tit was in his hand again. He returned to kneading my flesh and said, "There are three ways this can go. You can tell me that you've changed your mind and I can go ahead and get better acquainted with Kenzie.

"I don't see that happening, though. You really seemed to think that was a bad idea a little while ago.

"You can stop fighting me and give in to the inevitable. I think that's probably your best course of action but you'll have to decide that for yourself.

"Or, you can keep fighting me. I'll go ahead and fuck you anyway. But after I'm finished with you I'll probably tie you up and go fuck Kenzie, too. You know how us teenage boys are. I've heard that we're nothing but walking, talking hard ons."

It wasn't as hard to decide as you might expect. I've already accepted the fact that I can't stop him. I'm going to be raped. Only one of the options he mentioned left Kenzie unmolested. Even though I knew I couldn't trust him I asked, "If I let you do this you promise to leave my daughter alone?"

He squeezed my tit a little harder and said, "I promise. But you're going to have to do everything I say. I mean that, bitch. If you disobey me one fucking time then we go back to option three. Not that I'll mind. I think I'd prefer option three. I think I'd really enjoy fucking your cherry little girl. They say a girl always remembers her first fuck. Screwing a virgin is kinda like building a legacy. I'll give that up, though, as long as you do everything I tell you to do."

I have to believe he'll keep his word. Okay. I don't entirely believe him. But what else can I do? I nodded my head and said, "I'll do what you want."

He began slowly lowering my arm just a fraction of an inch at a time. The relief was incredible. I've been so terrified by everything else that I almost overlooked how much pain I was in.

Before he released my arm he said, "It won't be just once, bitch. We're going to fuck again. You're going to fuck me and suck my cock whenever I want from now on. If you don't, Kenzie will."

He was waiting for me to refuse. I knew it. But I didn't. I have no intention of submitting to this little monster once his father gets home. As soon as Dave comes home I'm going to tell him that either this child from hell leaves this house tonight or my daughter and I will. Until then, though, I'm going to have to do whatever I have to do to protect Kenzie.

In order to keep him from raping my daughter I have to agree to do what he asks. I hesitated before giving him my answer, though. If I give in too quickly he'll know I'm lying. Finally I sighed and nodded.

I was crying quietly now. I knew that it made me look even weaker in his eyes. But maybe it would make my promise to submit to him in the future even more believable. I told him that I'd do anything to protect Kenzie. I promised to do whatever he asked of me.

He laughed scornfully and replied, "Ask?! I ain't asking. I'm giving orders, bitch. Let's see how long it takes you to break your promise. I kinda hope you do. You're hot as hell and I'm gonna love porkin' ya. But it's your daughter that gave me this hard on. I still have the hots for Kenzie."

He finally released my wrist and stepped back. I didn't turn around. I didn't bother to put my bra and blouse back the way they were. It didn't seem worth the effort. Instead, I stepped back from the door far enough that I could massage my sore arm and shoulder. When he first released me I couldn't even move it!

I heard Casey moving around the room. I didn't know what he was up to. But I didn't want to know. Only a moment passed before he finished whatever it was he was doing and ordered me to put my clothing back in order.

I wasn't expecting that. I was confused but I happily obeyed. I pulled my bra down over my breasts and adjusted it. I buttoned my blouse. I was surprised to find that most of the buttons survived his violent attack. Only two were missing. I tucked it back into my shorts. Then I stood there with my back to him. I was in no hurry to turn around and do the disgusting, humiliating things I knew he was going to make me do.

He finally ordered me to turn around. He was standing in the middle of his large bedroom looking at me. The little bastard was grinning from ear to ear. Just looking at him made me want to vomit. He crooked his finger at me, calling me closer.

It's happening! I have no choice. I'm going to allow a fifteen year old boy to rape me! I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as I forced my legs to move, to carry me to my fate. The moment I was within reach he pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. He slipped something into my back pocket and said, "I just put a pair of handcuffs in your back pocket. Can you feel them? They're a reminder. If you don't do everything I tell you without hesitation I'm going to cuff you to my bed. From there you'll probably be able to hear Kenzie when I'm in the next room fucking her instead of you.

"I'll leave the doors open for you. I wouldn't want you to miss the sound of Kenzie screaming when I drive my cock into her for the first time. I can't stop thinking about it. I've never fucked a virgin. But it's still up to you who I fuck."

I didn't respond. There was nothing I could say. I already told him I'd do what he wants.

He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. My stomach churned at the very idea. But fully aware of the alternative I returned his kiss, though without very much enthusiasm.

His hands came to rest on the cheeks of my ass for a moment. He squeezed. Then he stepped back and said, "We're going to have to work on that. First let's get you cleaned up a little. You look as though you're upset about something."

I watched as he crossed the room to his hamper. He reached down and came up with a pair of his dirty jockey shorts in his hand. I stood in place, afraid to move as he returned to stand in front of me. He smiled at the fear and revulsion on my face. I think that knowing how I feel about the things he's doing is turning him on as much as anything else. Well, that and the power. He obviously loves having this much power over another person, a woman.

He raised his hand. I didn't move away or try to protect myself. I simply closed my eyes as his smelly underwear neared my face. He wouldn't even allow me that sanctuary. He snarled, "Open your fucking eyes! Look at me, bitch!"

I opened my eyes and forced myself to meet his arrogant gaze. He sneered down at me and I saw naked hatred in his expression as he dried my eyes and wiped my face with his underwear. The smell of stale sweat was nauseating and the thought of what he was doing even more so. But I felt the weight of those handcuffs in my back pocket. I can't let him do these things to Kenzie.

He finished wiping away my tears and stuffed his dirty underwear into his back pocket like a handkerchief. He smiled at me then, that sociopathic smile that's so fucking scary. I can't imagine where that hate comes from. I've done nothing to cause him to feel that way about me. But I can look into his eyes and see that he has no limits.

He's intelligent. He knows there are consequences for this kind of behavior. But he either has a plan to escape those consequences, or he assumes they don't apply to him, or he just doesn't care.

He finally spoke again; quietly, almost a whisper. "Smile, bitch. Make me believe it. You wouldn't want to hurt my feelings."

I almost told him to go to hell. I nearly told him to just get on with it. Rape me. Get it over with. But I've learned too much about people like him. Making them angry is a huge mistake. And those handcuffs are a constant reminder of my responsibility to my daughter.

It wasn't easy. And I doubt if I was all that convincing. I suspect that it was more of a grimace than a smile. But I did my best. I could see that he wasn't satisfied. He didn't say anything about it, though.

In that same quiet, but somehow threatening whisper he said, "Come closer, mommy. Put your arms around me and give me a nice, passionate kiss. Convince me that you really want to fuck me."

I'm not that good an actress. No one is. But I had no choice but to go through the motions. I moved closer, pressing my body against his hard young body. Fifteen! How does a boy so young get this way?!

I wrapped my arms around him and went up on my toes to kiss him. He didn't help. His arms remained at his sides. He didn't even lean his head down to meet me half way. I struggled to kiss him, passionately, the way he demanded. If anyone were watching it would probably have looked like I'm trying to take advantage of him!

He stood there like a statue while I kissed him. I had to fight back the tears. I didn't want him wiping my face with his underwear again. Several minutes must have passed before he put his arms around me. He took his lips away from mine for just long enough to whisper in my ear, "Don't stop kissing me. Reach down with one hand and rub my cock."

His lips returned to mine. I desperately didn't want to touch him like that. But I reminded myself that he's just getting started. It's going to get worse, much worse. And once again I thought about the consequences of disobeying him. I kissed him, our tongues moving back and forth in each other's mouths. I had no choice but to go through the motions.

It took me a moment to make my muscles obey my brain. He didn't say anything about the delay. I think he must be enjoying how much I hate this. He knows he's going to get anything and everything he wants from me. He's not in a hurry now that I've agreed to submit to him for the sake of my daughter.

Finally I got control of my stubborn muscles and lowered my right hand to the bulge in his pants. It was instantly apparent that he's big like his father in that area, too. I pressed my palm against his erection. I managed to stifle a groan of despair when I realized how large it is. Dave is blessed with an impressive cock and has given me much pleasure with it. Casey's cock is noticeably larger!

His body trembled when I touched him there. And I felt him chuckle when he sensed my reaction to touching him that way and the realization that he's very well equipped. He's not just well equipped for a fifteen year old, but for a male of any age.

We continued to kiss with my hand pressed against his erection for several more minutes. I didn't understand why his hands were no longer violating me now that he has me in his power. He hasn't touched my tits or any other part of me since I agreed to do whatever he wants. I'm not getting turned on. I don't want him to touch me. I just don't understand the way his warped mind works and I think I really need to if I'm going to get through this horrible experience.

We must have kissed for somewhere between five and ten minutes before he quietly ordered me to squirm against him, use my body as if I were trying to turn him on. I felt silly. And I felt dirty. But I obeyed.

I kept it up, acting like a horny schoolgirl on her third date with her boyfriend until he whispered, "I'm going to sit down now, mom. You stand right here and slowly take your clothes off. Strip completely. Keep looking me in the eyes and smiling. When you're naked, I want you to move your hands over your body like the slut you really are. Play with yourself until you see me nod. When I nod, come to me and get on your knees. Pull my pants and shorts down, lick my balls and my cock for a minute and then suck me off.

"Are you any good at sucking cock, mom?"

I hate the way he keeps calling me mom, so sarcastic, so demeaning. He's rubbing my nose in the fact that he has taken all of my power from me. But that's the least of my problems. The truth is I don't like oral sex, or at least I didn't at first. I've only done it for Dave. He asked me to do it for him after he ate my pussy, also a first for me. I didn't want to but I felt obliged. I had to at least try it. I've always thought it was such a nasty, demeaning thing for a woman to do. All I knew about it was what I've read and overheard. It didn't sound very pleasant.

I had a mixed reaction at first. Once I got used to it, though, much to my surprise I discovered that I enjoy sucking a man's cock, Dave's cock. When I saw how much pleasure I was causing him it made me feel warm all over. But it was more than that. There was something about sucking on a nice hard cock that was a strange mix of comforting and exciting.

I had a big problem with the grand finale the first few times. When my mouth filled with cum I gagged and choked and very nearly embarrassed both of us by vomiting all over my brand new fiancé.

He always warned me before he climaxed and he told me that I didn't have to take his cum in my mouth. He'd be just as happy if I took my mouth away and finished him with my hand.

I think that his insistence that it wasn't necessary took some of the pressure off. That helped. That and the realization that millions of women suck their husbands and their lovers off every day and swallow the male juices that are the end result. I wanted to do that for him, too. I wanted to show him how much I love him.

That's when it began to get easier. Now, all these months later, I'm starting to get pretty good at it. And as my skills improve I find that I actually do enjoy doing it. I enjoy doing it very much. But for Dave, not for his lunatic kid.

I started to answer his crude question in my normal speaking voice. He instantly shut me up, pressing his lips against mine again. Only a few seconds passed before he broke the kiss and whispered in my ear, "Quietly, mom. Whisper it in my ear."

I couldn't figure out what kind of fantasy he was playing with in his warped little mind. I sighed in resignation and whispered, "I haven't been doing it very long. But I'm getting better."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Not with you!"

He chuckled and whispered, "You don't really know that. You haven't tried it with me yet. You might find that you like it. I don't care either way. But you might as well get used to it. You're going to be doing a lot of it between now and when I go away to college."

College my ass! I'm going to send him away alright. To prison or a mental hospital! But I kept that pleasant thought to myself.

He nibbled at my ear lobe for a few seconds and then whispered, "Slowly."

He backed away and sat down in his expensive leather office chair. Spoiled brat!

Chapter 2 »