Chapter 1

"Where have you been?"

Bethany jumped at the sound, even though she expected to be challenged as soon as she walked in late from school. Her stepfather Don always made her feel that way – on edge, vulnerable.

She didn't answer, but instead made her way across the vestibule, heading for the stairs.

"No need to go to your room. Your mom's not home. We can do it right here." He looked at her sternly from his seat in the family room. A ball game was on TV.

"I have homework, Don. I don't have time for that right now."

"I'll decide if you have time or not." He unceremoniously pushed his sweat pants and briefs down his thighs, over his knees, and to his ankles. He spread his knees casually, displaying the nearly-somnolent serpent of his forty-five year old cock, coiled in a deceptively unthreatening manner atop its trimmed salt-and-pepper pubic nest.

There was nothing novel or unfamiliar to the eighth-grader about that phallus, nor about the demand. She was by now a practiced and intimate servant to both. But on this occasion, she felt something – something almost imperceptible. She felt a tiny tremor in her tummy, and maybe somewhere else, at the presentation of her stepfather's admittedly impressive genitalia. She wondered if it had anything to do with Doctor's Cohen's treatment sessions. Don, unfortunately, seemed determined to interfere with any inkling of progress on that front.

"Bets, why is this cock still dry and cold? Get over here, you know it ain't gonna suck itself!"

Bethany sighed, dropped her book bag, and headed for the cock in question. Don thought he was amusing – he didn't use grammar like "ain't" in real life, only when he was trying to be funny. Unfortunately, he did call her "Bets" all the time, even when he wasn't fucking her doggy style and taunting her with things like "You 'Bets' yer ass this is nice!"

She kneeled dutifully between his splayed knees and reached for the heavy prick, even as it began to uncoil of its own accord in anticipatory tumescence. The girl parted her lips as she raised the head of the now-half-erect cock to mouth.

"Hey, hold up there. I know you're starving for it, Baby, but we've got time. Get those titties out for me."

With another sigh, emitted in a petulant, adolescent tone, she released the organ and with both hands unbuttoned and removed first her white blouse, and then her bra. Don continued in his long-standing practice of showing absolutely zero dissatisfaction with their junior-high size; despite their being no larger than A-cups, Bethany noted that her stepfather's penis continued to rapidly stiffen in appreciation of their unveiling.

She knew what he liked at times like this, so she arched her breasts into his crotch and used his prick like a paintbrush, tracing the gentle swells of her underaged tits and dragging the leaking little mouth of his prickhead across both of her pebbly, eraser-like nipples. Don smiled – or rather leered – down at her in satisfaction.

"Thaaat's a gooood girl, Bets. Good girl!"

Bethany rolled her eyes, but there it was again. In her tummy – in her crotch – in her clit. A tingle. A twitch. A feeling that was, she had to admit, not entirely awful. Maybe even a little awesome. But only for a second, and then it was gone.

"Okay, Baby. I won't make you wait any longer. You can have at it." This, she knew from repeated experience, was her cue to start sucking on her stepfather's cock. She pursed her lips into a bow and slipped the tight fleshy 'O' around the nut of his glans. Smoothly, she continued to skin down the shaft, taking the prong deeper into her wet maw to the accompaniment of Don's pleasured hiss. Forestalling any complaints about cheating, she now removed her hands from the cock and placed each palm against either of his inner thighs. She raised her eyes to meet his, well aware that this pleased him. She didn't like Don, and she didn't like doing sex-stuff with him, but she had learned that she did like pleasing him a lot more than not pleasing him. And, as expected, this pleased him.

He met her gaze with a lust filled one of his own, a murmured "thaaat's it", and a gentle hand reaching to stroke her hair – an inadequate harbinger of less-gentle attentions that were, as always, sure to come. But for now, it was gentle, and as she looked along the length of his is as-yet to-be-engulfed cockshaft, into his masculine face and admittedly handsome eyes, Bethany felt a momentary attraction for her despised molester. A fleeting thought of "I wouldn't mind fucking a guy like Don, if he wasn't Don." Again the pleasure sensation, unbidden, in her center, lasting this time for more than just a moment, but only just.

Don broke the eye contact and reached for the remote. Bethany continued to suck, now bobbing slowly along his length – all the way out to the head, and then slowly back in as far as she comfortably could – while her stepfather changed the channel. She knew what was up. Sometimes he watched her intently throughout a session. Other times he found something on TV to view, in order to accompany her services. She usually didn't mind this – it was kind of a relief in that it depersonalized the episode, made it less about her and more "mechanical." The downside was that it usually took him a lot longer to come that way than when he was looking into her "cock-worshipping, schoolgirl face" – his words, of course, not hers. When the TV was involved, her mouth was just a wet, warm, tongue-fluttering hole, serving proxy for whoever Don choice to watch –Miranda Cosgrove in an iCarly rerun on Nickelodeon, Megyn Kelley on Fox News, Selena Gomez on a Witches of Waverly Place rerun on the Disney Channel, Grace Park on Hawaii Five-0 on CBS, Debby Ryan as Jessie on Disney Channel ... to be frank, most of the time Don chose Nickelodeon or Disney Channel for his "enhancement", which of course by now came as no surprise to the middle schooler. Today was a little unusual, though, for as he set down the remote she heard the Spanish dialogue of a Telemundo novella. Bethany silently snorted – Don might enjoy her fourteen-year-old titlets, but he wasn't opposed to big Latina tat-tas, either.

This was the point when things usually turned for the worse as far as Bethany was concerned, and today was no exception. Now Don took hold of her head with both hands, not roughly, but firmly, and began to direct her movements. He sped her up, he slowed her down, while she continued to do her best to suck, slurp, and lap at the slab driving in and out of her face. She usually hated the mere idea of this, as he turned her from an admittedly unwilling, but at least participating, fellatrix into a completely dominated, controlled, fuckhole, a mere mouth-and-throat sheath meant only to serve the pleasure of her stepfather's selfish, face-fucking cock. It usually seemed so degrading and unwholesome, and hence unwelcome. Oddly, today it again seemed degrading, and unwholesome. But it didn't seem completely unwelcome. For one thing, that sensation sparked up again, as though in welcome for the cruel usage. That sensation in her tummy. In her crotch. Okay, she admitted, in her cunt.