The Safe House
Copyright© 2026 by JP Bennet
Chapter 20
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 20 - A family flees persecution, hiding with a friend and her husband. As months pass kindness comes with a price. The story starts slow and builds up more and more. If you are here for the sex skip to Chapter 21 and beyond.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Coercion Fiction Cuckold Humiliation Slow
My neck was stiff when I woke. At first, I thought I’d exercised too much, or slept wrong. The room felt unusually bright.
I stayed still for a moment, waiting for the heaviness to pass.
It didn’t.
My throat felt dry. I asked mom to bring me water. Swallowing took effort.
When I woke the again, I was sweating.
When Hugh came in the evening, Mom managed to get some medicine.
By morning I was feeling clearer.
I hadn’t been sick since we’d been here. And how would we have caught anything. We only ever saw Hugh.
By evening I was back to reading. Exercise would have to wait.
When it came to cleaning duties, Mom insisted I stay in bed, but I didn’t want to be stuck.
It wasn’t that hard anyways.
I scrubbed the floor while Mom did the dishes.
I’d squeezed into some of my older clothes. They didn’t quite fit. But that was kind of the point.
I saw it fall before I heard it shatter. Mom had dropped a jar full of honey.
She muttered something to herself and steadied herself on the table.
“I’ll help you,” I said and quickly started sweeping up the shards.
“Is everything OK?”
Hugh was back in the kitchen.
“I don’t know,” my mom said almost whispering. “I’m feeling a bit light.”
“It’s Ok. I’ll help you.” He said, putting his arm under her and walking her to our hiding place. I took her from the other side.
Back in our room Mom rested on the mattress. She took some paracetamol and closed her eyes.
The kitchen was still not clean.
“Should I...” I asked.
“I’ll manage.” Hugh interrupted.
“I want to.”
I followed him back to the kitchen and made her some tea. When I came back into the kitchen, Hugh had already cleared most of the broken glass into a bowl beside him. The light caught briefly on a cut across his palm.
The honey had spread farther than I expected. Sticky, messy, everywhere.
I stepped around him carefully and reached for a rag under the sink.
“I’ll do the rest.”
Something in my tone made his eyes flick.
The honey resisted at first and it seemed like I was making it worse.
It smelt sweet.
I noticed that Hugh stood at door now. Watching me.
I focused carefully on the floor in front of me, pushing the cloth forward in slow strokes. My sleeves slipped higher up my forearms. The kitchen was quiet enough now that I could hear the faint shift of his breathing behind me.
“You don’t have to supervise,” I said.
“You’re in my kitchen.”
I smiled faintly to myself.
I dragged the cloth through another sticky patch. “You’ve become very polite lately.”
No answer.
I glanced back over my shoulder.
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