Her Stepfather's Slave [fiction]

[TheFloss]

The year had seemed longer than most. Had seemed more gray. May and I had been friends since fourth grade, but it was only in the slowness of our ninth grade year that we'd ever gotten to know each other.

Her mother had died in a car accident that spring, and I found myself seeing May more and more as she needed somebody to talk to. Most of the time we just watched movies or went for quiet walks- I think she just wanted to be around somebody who wasn't her step father.

Her stepfather was, to be blunt, an asshole. He'd made no secret of the fact that he'd never wanted a kid, and when he married May's mom five years before, it was only on the condition that he wouldn't have to deal with any of the 'child-raising stuff'. We were only 15, and May frequently spoke of how much she couldn't wait to move out.

She was absolutely beautiful- a fact I tried to convince her of more than once, to no avail. She had brown-almost-red hair, and a svelt-yet-relaxed demeanor that put you at ease. That ability to make other people feel like themselves, combined with her good looks, meant that she frequently had more attention from boys than she knew what to do with. She had dated around with a couple boys, but eventually decided it was too exhausting, and had been single for a while.

During October I noticed she talked about her stepfather less and less- changing the topic whenever I asked how things were going. She spent more and more time at my place.

One night, a few days before December, I received a text around 8pm from May, "can i come over? its important". I responded that that would be fine, and asked her what the problem was, but I didn't get a response. The lack of response nagged at me for an hour. What type of 'important' did she mean? Was it an emergency? It was a Friday night, so I put on a coat and decided to walk over to her place, just in case.

I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there- it was a bit late to randomly knock on a door and invite myself in- but I continued to text her as I walked, with still no response.

May lived in a house recessed into the trees a bit. Not exactly a cabin, and not exactly 'in the woods', but close enough that it felt almost rustic. I walked down the dirt driveway, and was about to knock on the front door when I lost my nerve.

Her stepfather made me uncomfortable. He was gruff, loud, and as often as not, angry about something. I was sure he wouldn't be pleased about me showing up at 10:30 at night. They had a porch equal with the kitchen around back, so I decided to see if I could look in a window.

I crept up the stairs to the patio silently, and looked through the blinds.

They both had their backs to me. Her father was sitting at the table, and she was standing at the stove, stirring something. It must have been thick, because she was using both hands. What surprised me was that she was wearing a thin spaghetti strap shirt and athletic shorts. I had always thought of May as extremely modest- and I had rarely seen her legs or arms exposed, even in summer. She tended to dress in long shirts and pants, so her skimpy attire, especially in October, was unusual. Hidden as I was, I couldn't help but admire her butt on those shorts.

She reached for a ladle, and I realized to my shock why she had been using both hands to stir the soup; they were chained together with handcuffs.

My mind reeled- did her father put her in handcuffs? Maybe she was into it- no, this must have been why she wanted to come to my place. Should I call the police?

She ladled the soup into two bowls, and carefully carried them over to her father at the table. When she turned, I saw that she had a piece of duct tape plastered over her mouth. She cold have been able to take it off, her hands cuffed in front of her as they were, but I'm guessing that fear kept her from doing so. Her eyes were a bit red, and it was obviously she had just been crying.

Her father looked at the soup and grunted, then gave May's ass a thoughtless swat. She jumped a bit. I stumbled a bit myself, and for a moment I thought her father had heard me. I froze as he glanced towards the window, but relaxed when he turned back to his dinner. May sat down at the place opposite him, her eyes downcast, and she began to eat as well.

After a minute, her father excused himself from the table, leaving to the other room. I hurriedly tapped on the glass, and she looked towards me, startled. Seeing who I was, she was obviously mortified, shaking her head with wide eyes. I tried to mouth "Are you ok?" through the window, but she gestured for me to leave with her cuffed hands.

Then one of the most frightening moments of my life. Pounding heavy feet storming up the stairs of the porch. Her stepfather had snuck outside and was barreling towards me. Fear kept me locked to the spot, and he fiercly grabbed me upon reaching me.

"Well Derek. Haven't seen you around in a while," he said, an edge to his voice, "Normally people call before inviting themselves over at 11 at night."

"I was just- I mean-" but he cut me off as he drug me in the back door to the kitchen.

"May! Your friend's here," he said. May continued to look horrified. Her stepfather kept his vice grip on my arm.

"Why is she handcuffed?" I managed to ask through my fear.

"We had a disagreement, and this is her punishment," her father replied, trying to make it sound obvious, but it was clear he was uncomfortable.

I looked back at May, and saw her left foot had a chain locked to it, that wove over to under the stove. It looked like she couldn't go much further than the dining room.

"She's chained to the kitchen?! This is abuse," I said, like an idiot. I should have kept quiet. I should have acted like I believed him, and called the police later- but I didn't.

"Fuck. Are you really going to make this complicated, kid? Look. Sit down," then, after a pause of me not doing it, "SIT DOWN."

He shoved me into the chair, and swung behind me, and reached around, pinning my arms to the chair. I tried to struggle free, but I didn't have any leverage. I couldn't believe this was happening.

"HEY! Let go of me!" I shouted, pointlessly.

"May, dear, go get me the bag," he commanded. May shook her head. "Are you disobeying me? May. Get me the bag, or I'll make life so horrible for you, you'll wish you'd never been born."

May looked at me, her eyes full of fear and apology, and got up. I hear the chain clink on the ground as she walked to the other side of the kitchen and pulled a black canvas bag off the counter.

"Cuff him to the chair," her stepfather commanded. May knelt in front of me, and hesitantly pulled some handcuffs out of the bag, placed the corresponding key on the table, and reached over to me, gently latching the cuffs around both mine and the chair's arm. She did the same with another pair of cuffs, leaning over to secure me to the chair. Kneeling as she was, I saw down her thin shirt and saw and briefly saw her bra- I looked away.

"Thank you, dear." He released me, and I pulled quickly at the handcuffs, but they were secure. May's stepfather pulled a coil of rope out of his bag, and quickly wrapped it around my torso, securing me more tightly to the chair, before bending over and securing my feet to the chair legs. He grabbed the keys to my cuffs off the table, put them in his pocket, and stood and looked at me.

"Look kid, here's the deal. I don't wanna hear it. Any of it. For every word you say, I'm gonna swat your behind like you've never felt. Five words, five swats. And you better believe you won't be wearing any pants when that goes down. So unless you want to be further humiliated in front of my May here, I recommend you keep your mouth shut."

I did as I was told.

Her stepfather sat back down in his chair, and May stood from where she'd been kneeling at my side, and sat down across from him again. She moaned quietly into her gag.

"May! How rude. I'm sure our guest is hungry. Go make him some more soup," he commanded his daughter. She stood up immediately to do it, but he stopped her.

"May, I seem to remember that you refused a request earlier, when I asked you to get the bag. I think I'm a fair man, and it's only right that you be punished. Come here." She paused, then approached him hesitantly. His hand shot out, and he grabbed her by the elastic band of her athletic shorts, pulling her quickly towards him. With his other hand he picked up a knife from the table. I screamed, thinking she was about to be killed, but instead he slipped the knife into her shorts, and with two quick cuts, had cut them off completely.

She stumbled backwards, her skimpy white panties now visible. They covered her front, and a bit of her rear, but the sides were just strings. I couldn't imagine she normally wore them- but I had no way of knowing.

She looked at him, mumbling frantic and unintelligible things into her tape gag, then at me, horrorstruck. She shook her head, and her eyes began to water again.

"Now make soup!" her stepfather commanded. She jumped to obey. Her panties covered very little of her ass, and I found myself staring.

Her stepfather caught me at it, and grinned like an older brother, "It's nice to have a little help around the house, isn't it?"

I stared at him, scared, but said nothing.

[SliBinS]

good start.... liked it

[TheFloss]

I sat in silence, watching my friend prepare the soup. The chains clanked every time she took a step, and she had to plan her movements in order to perform the necessary tasks with cuffed hands.

"May! Get us a couple beers," her stepfather commanded her. She stopped stirring the soup and went to the fridge, taking out a few cans. I could tell she was trying to avoid facing us, and it was obvious she was blushing when she had to turn towards the table. She put the cans down in front of both of us. Her stepfather glared at her.

"Come on girl. Open them."

She opened both the cans, and her father took a big swig. I stared at the can, not sure of what to do. Despite the fact that I was too young to drink, I obviously couldn't lift a can, cuffed as I was.

"Do I have to tell you everything? Use your head! Help him!" She walked around the table, and began to try to senselessly fiddle with my cuffs. "No! Feed it to him. Unbelievable." She understood, and picked up the can. For a moment I could smell her; a hint of shampoo- but then I tasted the beer. I'd never had beer before, and couldn't stand the taste. She kept pouring it in my mouth, and I don't think she realized I needed a chance to breathe.

My problem was solved, however, when her stepfather reached around and gave her ass a huge slap. She jumped, grunting into her gag, and the beer spilled all over me. I took a deep breath.

"What the fuck, May?" her stepfather exploded, "You just spilled all over our guest. That's, like- that's the rudest thing I've ever seen. Unbelievable. Go stir the soup." She hurried back to the soup, eager to be away from me dressed as she was.

"You have to excuse my step daughter. She's unbelievably clumsy. But she'll learn."

"It's alright," I said. He turned on me. "That's two," he said.

He stood up abruptly, and wandered over to a drawer. Pulling it open, he pulled out some scissors. May turned to face him, but he shook his head, and she nervously went back to stirring the soup.

He reached down and pulled out one of the cheeks of her panties, swiftly cutting off a chunk. When it slapped back to her ass, a round piece was missing, exposing a round circle of butt cheek. She moaned in humiliation, and visibly slumped her shoulders. He repeated the procedure with the other cheek, and put the scissors back in the drawer, smiling to himself. May momentarily clenched her butt, trying in vain to hide her shame.

He sat back down next to me, and looked at me with that weird grin again.

"What I'm sure May has told you is that I'm not her real father. We've never liked each other- never even pretended. Her mother was an angel- totally worth putting up with this girl's bullshit for. But now her mother's gone. And what am I stuck with?" He picked up a spoon and threw it at May's back, "This slut here."

He sat back in his chair and reclaimed his beer, "That said, she does retain some of the 'finer qualities' of her mother, and seeing her running around as she does- it doesn't help the grieving process, does it?"

He clapped his hands. "But don't worry. I'm heading out. Leaving all this bullshit behind. Gonna start over," he glanced at his stepdaughter's increasingly exposed ass and gave a sharp laugh, "Just gonna enjoy what's mine before I go. You just picked the wrong night to come snooping."

May poured the soup in the bowl, and placed it in front of me. Learning from last time, she picked up the spoon and gently placed some in my mouth, her eyes full of apology. It was good soup. We were both wary her father was going to swat her again, and he definitely looked like he wanted to- but instead he stopped her.

"No no, not like that. Sit on his lap. Show him how good service can be."

She sat down sideways on my lap, awkwardly in the spilled beer, and carefully guided a spoonful of soup from the table, over her legs, and into my mouth. It took a while, but she fed me about half the bowl before her stepfather got bored.

"Wait seriously? He's not gettin' hard from this?" her stepfather blurted out. I understood his plan, but with all of my concern, I hadn't even been thinking about the eroticism of the situation.

"Isn't she hot enough for you? You a homo or something?" he jeered at us, "Unbelievable. Stay right there. I'm gonna take a smoke."

And leaving his half naked stepdaughter on my lap, he went out onto the porch.

[kirsty03]

Very nice. Can't wait for more.

[Saphir]

Hey,
I do rarely comment in this section. However, I thought I would let you know that this is a good read! :3

The writing itself is good, the content pretty interesting. I mean there is a lot of "family" stuff on here, but not of this kind. It's pretty "tough"... I really like that it's not getting right to heavy mum/son sex or some such... but it's more focused on the abusive father and the way his daughter and her friend have to deal with it. If you keep it that way (+ relationship between narrator and daughter) it might become quite a nice story, at least in my humble opinion. :3

I have no clue how this carries on but I hope to read more. I think it's quite an interesting start (as in psychological and regarding the relationship between the daughter and the first person narrator).

Keep it up!

Love

[jdubs90]

This is quite interesting...keep it up!