My New Home
Copyright© 2026 by ExtremeDarkPerversion
Chapter 7
Incest Story: Chapter 7 - A girl tells her mother she doesn't want to move in with her mother's boyfriend. She tells her that he is creepy. But the mother tells her she is imagining it. The boyfriend makes it clear she isn't.
Caution: This Incest Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Teenagers Rape Reluctant Heterosexual Humiliation Sadistic Torture Masturbation Indian Erotica
I feel sudden pain in my nipples. I wake with a jolt to find him pinching and twisting my nipples with a villainous smile on his face. I instantly start getting wet as I try to stop him.
“Stop”, I say as half my body enjoys the torture.
“I already know your “stop” mean nothing ... by the way, did you watch your mother yesterday?”, he asks.
“No”, I shout. I lied.
“Really ... you didn’t watch? Shame!”, he says and pushes me off.
“Wait...” he says and turns on the TV and presses something on the remote switch to a Windows system. Then somehow starts controlling it with his phone. He goes inside a folder after a folder, and I don’t really focus. I don’t know why he is doing this. Is he going to show me a recording of last night? I start getting more excited.
Then he opens a video. It plays.
I see myself choking and while rubbing myself as I watch mom getting fucked.
I grab the remote and immediately shut off the TV. My whole body is filled with shock and panic.
He laughs.
“I have already watched it ... and selected my favourite parts...”, he says and takes the remote from my hand and switches on the TV.
“ ... and not just from last night”, he says and then plays another video. I am masturbating while listening to Mom’s moans in our old house.
He plays video after video just for a few seconds to let me know what he has recorded. He has videos from almost a month, every time I masturbated.
I cover myself with the blanket and start to cry. One part of my body is excited about what he is going to do with this? Will he blackmail me? He can threaten to show it to Mom or, worse, release it to the internet. He can make me do anything.
He grabs the blanket and yanks it off me.
“Can you now stop pretending you are not a dumb fucking whore?”, he tells me.
“I am not...”, I shout while crying. A big part of me thinks it’s a lie.
He grabs me and then shoves his hand inside my panties.
“You are already wet ... fucking slut!”, he tells me and then pushes me off.
“Anyway, go get ready ... breakfast will be ready in half an hour or so ... I want you to be brushed, bathed and completely clean and looking like a slut”, he tells me.
As he climbs down from the bed.
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