So it all started after my mom died.
Tragedy has always seemed to run in my family, at least when it came to death. Dad died shortly after I was born, my grandparents on either side were also deceased, and my parents were both only children.
Luckily in many ways mom married rich, live very rich, like nine figure rich. I never quite understood how it ended up happening, this filthy rich man falling in love with mom, until after she died.
So, my stepdad, I’ll call him Frank, could have easily just decided to get rid of me. He never formally adopted me or anything so he didn’t have any true connection to me. Lucky for me he didn’t, but as you can expect I’d soon find out why.
It was exactly a week after the funeral when I got the text telling me to go to his study. This was a bit of a shock to me as he had never once in the 12 years that I had been living under his roof allowed me into his study. I had been very expressly forbidden by both him and mom from going in there so I just eventually gave up worrying about it.
It wasn’t what I had expected when I entered. Actually, I had no clue what to expect when I had entered. It was a very plain room, with a computer desk with the requisite computer and chair. A leather recliner, a leather sofa, and a very large TV on the wall. The TV was clearly on as it was all black but had two white bars indicating something was paused.
Frank was sitting on the couch, and he patted it, indicating that he wanted me to come over and sit down. I was a little worried but as I sat down he stood up and moved to the leather recliner that was pointed right toward the couch.
“We need to talk about your living situation here Tiffany.”
I nodded, I was afraid he was going to say that, but I sat there quietly for the moment, waiting for him to lead the conversation, he was the one who wanted to talk after all.
“So, you know now that your mom is gone that there is nothing, nothing at all that requires me to let you continue to live here. I never adopted you, you’re not my blood, and quite frankly life would probably be easier without having to act as a single dad to a fifteen-year-old girl.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. This was already starting out bad and I knew it.
“From my position it makes much more sense to take you out of Albright, and just put you in the foster system and hope that you don’t just end up on the streets like so many teenagers in your position would.”
I suddenly wondered if I was too young to have a heart attack, the stress I was already feeling as he said all these truths was a bit much for me.
“Would you like to know why I married your mother?”
Wait, did I miss something. That conversation just changed fast. I looked at him a bit puzzled.
“Your mother, didn’t it always seem odd that I would find, fall in love with, and marry your mother? I mean there’s no way that we should have connected at all, but we did, and we got married. I’m sure you’re wondering how that came about.”
I nodded slowly at this, and meekly said, “Yeah.” Frank was right, the fact that him and mother got together never really made sense to me, and I had really started to wonder not long before the accident.
Frank grinned at me, I had never seen someone grin like that before so I couldn’t really describe it.
“To answer the question that’s probably burning in your mind, no, I never loved your mother.”
I blinked at that several times. “You never loved her?” I asked. There were obviously so many more questions that could be asked, but I didn’t really have to ask those questions to get my point across.
“No, I never loved her. I cherished and adored her, but never love, she served a much different role in my life, and wife was a title that I gave to her.”
This made no sense, why would he marry mom if he never loved her. “Then what was that role?”
The grin appeared again. “I’m glad you asked.” Frank picked up a remote from inside an arm compartment on the chair he was sitting in and hit a button. The TV screen was no longer black, but there was no sound as the video started playing.
Mom’s face was in an extreme closeup on the screen. She looked happy, and I couldn’t help but smile at that myself. The camera started to slowly pull back, and it revealed a large, thick looking piece of metal around her neck. I knew it was a collar, and my jaw dropped. It continued to zoom back and mom was standing there completely naked, the collar attached to a leash.
The video cut, she was on a lap and getting spanked. Another cut and she was clearly, enthusiastically even, giving a guy oral pleasure. Another guy came into view and the camera zoomed out as the second guy, who was as naked as mom was, stepped behind her and clearly entered her.
Scenes like this continued on for what felt like a lifetime but was probably only about two or three minutes. I knew what sex was, I knew what BDSM was. I’d seen porn, and bondage porn. I hadn’t really done anything yet, but I knew of stuff.
When the video was done Frank shut the TV off. “Your mother was my slave, it’s as simple as that. She did what I wanted, generally enthusiastically, and I rewarded her for it. She did it because she enjoyed it, and she did it for you, so you could have a better life.”
I looked at him, my jaw still slightly agape, but I could say nothing about what I had just seen. How does a teenage girl respond to seeing that her mother was a willing sex slave to an extremely rich man?
Frank looked at me very pointedly and asked, “Do you want to stay here?”
I took a deep breath, “I do, but does that mean...”
He held up a hand, cutting me off.
“No, I’m not going to make you a full-fledged slave like your mother was. You are actually very free to choose, but it’s more that if you decide to stay, there will be some ground rules.”
I gulped at this, taking several deep breaths, my heart racing, I said, “What are they?”
“First, unless you have company over, or you’re leaving the property within ten minutes, you no longer wear any clothes.”
Another sigh, I don’t know why but I wasn’t surprised at all by this. I waited for the next item but he didn’t move on, he just stared at me intently. Oh shit.
“You mean like right now?”
Frank nodded. “Yes, go ahead and stand up, let’s see that birthday suit of yours.”
I closed my eyes and hung my head for a moment. If I was to stay I had to let him see me naked, and not just every once in a while, like all the time. The even worse part I had to consider is that this was clearly only the tip of the iceberg. No guy had ever seen me completely naked, I had been topless with my boyfriend, but that was it, this was definitely going to be going so much further.
I stood up before him and with shaking arms grabbed the bottom of my shirt and started pulling it up. I was glad that my shirt was over my face when my plain white bra came into view. This felt so shameful, yet I knew I had no real choice.
I quickly shed the shirt then paused. I wasn’t quite sure where I wanted to go next. Do I try to prolong this, or just get it over with. I laughed mentally, realizing it didn’t really matter, and since he wasn’t saying anything, I closed my eyes for a moment and just tried to pretend I was getting undressed in the bathroom before a shower.
With that thought in mind my bra came next. While reaching back I took a deep breath. I knew if this didn’t want to feel worse I’d have to treat this more like ripping off a band-aid, I couldn’t hesitate. When I exhaled I undid the clasp and pulled the back apart to side the bra down my arms.
I didn’t look down as the bra fell and revealed my breasts to him. I mean I knew what my own breasts looked like, how small they were, how firm, how the small, slightly upturned, light-pink nipples capped them off. I wouldn’t have looked at them if I was just getting undressed, and I didn’t want to catch Frank looking, which I knew he was, and I felt that it would have just set me off more at the reality of what I was doing.
Strangely a sudden relief flooded over me. He hadn’t said anything at all, no sound, no comments about my breasts, nothing. I think I’m a very twisted way I actually felt comfortable at the moment.
I just threw the bra aside on the floor and reached down to my jeans. Unbuttoning them was fairly quick, as was undoing the zipper. I didn’t think anything of it when I moved my hands to my sides and pushed them off my hips. When my black panties came with I only moved my thumbs to make sure they went all the way down with.
Soon enough I found myself stepping out of the last of my clothes and standing naked in front of my stepdad. I put my arms down by my side, fidgeting as I wasn’t quite sure what I should be doing with them.
He looked me over appraisingly for a very long moment. It was beginning to get awkward. I had managed to tune out that I just stripped in front of him but standing there naked in silence was making it weird.
When he opened his mouth to speak it felt as if everything froze except my heart, which felt ready to beat out of my chest. Frank was now the only guy to have seen me fully nude since I was young. He was the first to appraise me, about to make a comment.
“You’re going to have to do something about that hair,” he said with too casual of an air. I looked down at the thin brown patch of hair that I knew he was referring to. It wasn’t wild by any means, bathing suit season was starting after all, but I had never shaven it completely off.
“I can give you a card and we can send you to get it waxed, or I have left stuff in your bathroom. I’ll expect it clean shaven daily. You can give it a few days if you’re going to go for a waxing appointment.”
I nodded to that. Given what I just saw of mom in the video I wasn’t shocked. The weirdest part for me was that he had already gotten shaving equipment in my bathroom. How long had he been planning this?
“Is this the only rule?” I asked him, filled with a foolish hope that I’d be done.
He shook his head, and I felt a wave of defeat come over me. Sure, I expected it, doesn’t mean I had to accept it easily.
“Next we should probably talk punishments.”
“Punishments?” I asked with a renewed sense of trepidation.
“Yes, no more of this being grounded or having privileges taken away from you when you disobey the rules. As you are probably already realizing with our new arrangement, your punishments will take on more sexual overtones?”
My face must have been covered with the worry I was feeling deep inside me.
“Such as what?” I finally asked.
“I’m glad you asked Tiffany,” he said with a wicked grin on his face. “For example, impact play. You’d know this more as spanking.”
“I see,” I said as he said spanking, feeling my face burn as I blushed.
“It’s more complicated than that though Tiffany. While yes, I might have you bend over my knee and spank you with my hand, I might also have you just bent over and hit you with a paddle or even a switch. Or I may hit your tits with a whip, or strike your pussy, or even your asshole with a crop.”
I opened my eyes wide as he described striking various parts of my body. The idea that he’d strike my pussy with something was horrifying.
“Oh, it won’t be just that though. Some humiliation play, some insertion, and I’m sure I’ll find some other ways to punish you.”
I was about to ask what he meant but he cut me off.
“In a few days we’ll have a night where I’ll have you try out a few things so you can be ready for what to expect. In the next few weeks we’ll make sure you get the chance to experience every aspect of your new situation.”
I felt my heartbeat rising. Could I really handle all this? Would I be better just being in foster care? My mind was swirling when he spoke again.
“We should talk about dinner parties and meetings.”
I froze. Oh shit, I didn’t even think about the fact that for his business Frank often had associates over. I was generally allowed to avoid those dinners but mom always attended.
“I can see from the look on your face that you’re starting to put things together. You won’t take over your mother’s duties completely yet, but yes, you are going to have to attend meetings and dinners.”
I nodded. “Will I be attending them naked?”
He nodded back. “You will indeed, yes. You will also be expected to provide entertainment.”
I tilted my head as I looked at him. “What do you mean provide entertainment?”
“You might be expected to pose, or to masturbate for our entertainment. Might have to provide hand jobs or oral sex. After you turn sixteen we’ll probably add fucking to what you might have to do for the guests.”
For not being a sex slave, it was starting to sound like I was going to be a sex slave.
“But we’ll take care of talking about that more before the first meeting or dinner party.”
Another nod to that. “Is that all then?”
“Close,” he replied. Once again, an overwhelming sense of dread came over me. I had some suspicion he was saving the best (for him) for last.