“I mean .. this .. this is so .. weird..”
“Is it? A man appreciating a beautiful young woman? I should say it’s fairly normal.”
A half laugh; her breasts jiggle a little only, making their young firmness deliciously obvious.
“No.. I .. I mean ..”
“You being naked for me?”
“Um .. um, yes.”
“Are you wanting to put your clothes on again?”
Again the little laugh, tinged with doubt this time, worry even;
“No! No - I mean .. if .. if you..”
And now she is doubly embarrassed, having let it be so obvious that she wants to be here, naked for him, in his study, attempting some impossible mixture of modesty and provocative display.
“So we’re both happy that you’re naked. Although of course I’m not happy your legs are so modestly crossed.”
A little, shocked silence, a tiny flinching, then a panicky giggle, almost a hiccup. Her nervousness is intensely sweet. Soon, remarkably soon, he thinks, adjusting his former estimate of her ripeness, there will be an end to this delicate badinage, and a progression to firm, no nonsense enforcement of his desires without the slightest regard for her pretty sensibilities - which will include sinking his teeth into those perfect breasts until she screams - but he will enjoy this phase while it lasts.
Taking a deep breath now, blushing pink, chest heaving a little, she spreads her legs; slowly, so slowly, but steadily. Stops.
He waits a beat or two, then, calm and assured;
“Wider.”
And after more panicky little gasps, she complies, clearly making an effort to move prettily for him, her legs now spread like a pornstar’s, as wide as the chair will permit.
Again a beat or two, until she cannot help herself but look up for his approval. He catches her eye, but she cannot hold his gaze. She has seen him nod, though, and relaxes a little, although her knee trembles a little, and he can see a flutter in her taut belly.
“So, just what is it that is so weird?”
A long silence; the tremble at her knee is pronounced, then stilled. She holds herself open with intense self-consciousness. Her nipples are hard.
“Um I .. I guess that you .. you’re Neil’s ..um.. “
She was clearly unsure what to say, and he steps in for her;
“Stepfather. Rich, evil stepfather, I suppose.”
“No! - no not .. not not that..”
She is embarrassed again - her breasts have flushed a little. Adorable. Rather obvious stainless steel rings through her nipples, he thinks, will contrast aggressively with her paleness.
“I .. I mean the. Well. The the step .. stepfather thing..”
“I see, so you feel weird to be displaying yourself to your boyfriend’s stepfather?”
Nodding. More breast jiggles. Her sex lips have opened a little. It becomes evident that Jason has had her trim her bush just as he prefers. The boy has done well.
“Well then perhaps you’ll feel better if I tell you that he doesn’t mind. He’s a sensible lad, isn’t he? Takes a very relaxed view about the young ladies he sees, I’ve discovered.”
“So .. oh! Aha. I see that far from calming you, that information has made you feel even more weird. Well, never mind, perhaps we’ll have to live with you feeling weird.”
Silence, her knee is trembling again, but she shows no sign of wanting to escape.
“Well, now that we have that out of the way, may I say that I’m enjoying the view; you are a well put-together piece of girl-flesh, that’s for sure. Very many fine features. Highly fuckable, if you’ll excuse the crudity.”
She flinches, looks up for an instant, drops her gaze again, but doesn’t cover herself, or pull her legs in. Her blush deepens, but if anything her pose becomes more deliberate, more sexual, more provocative.
Little tart.
“Perhaps you’d do one thing, though, to complete the picture?”
He waits, knowing the silence will get to her, until she can stand it no longer;
“ .. you .. you want me to .. to do .. somethi..?” Her voice trails off.
“I do, yes. I’d like you to lift your hands and clasp them together behind your neck - show off your pretty tits to best advantage - do you think you can do that for me?”
.. and of course, having pressed him to tell her, she cannot now reasonably refuse him, and so, after a decent pause for internal struggle - or at least the semblance of one - she complies, quivering a little, and indeed making those remarkable breasts stand out even more, flushed again as she blushes at the totally whorish pose she now presents, thighs spread wantonly, chest pushed out, breasts swaying gently, hands out of action.
More silence. Her breathing is getting deeper. She’s clearly sexually aroused now.
He smiles.
“You are still nervous, I see. Are you perhaps concerned that I might go too far? I mean, looking at my step-son’s girlfriend nude is one thing, but anything more would be too weird, perhaps?”
Soft, nervous nodding again.
He leaves her to stew, then.
“It occurs to me that you might be a little afraid? Is that the case?”
A long silence, and then she manages to speak;
“Yes .. yes I .. I feel weird..”
“We have indeed established that you feel weird, pretty, but I am looking for clarity. I will have to be blunt, then. Are you in fact frightened that I might force myself on you - might be unable to control myself - might rape you, to say it out loud? After all, I am stronger than you, you are in my house, I have staff who might even assist me. Perhaps you are, really, afraid?”
Quite pronounced panicky breathing now. Really, those breasts are just too much! But she keeps her hands in position, he notes. Quite a peach. He’ll have to up the boy’s allowance as well as the cash sum.
She doesn’t seem to be going to speak, so he continues;
“Well I can reassure you, my dear. I have a great deal of experience with women, and I can confidently tell you that I can control myself adequately - even in the face of such tempting charms as yours - your breasts really are a marvel, you know; you must concentrate on presenting them well at all times.”
He sits back now, to watch the quivers at her belly increase in frequency, duration and intensity. It seems she’s quite a hot little thing - her sex lips are a stronger pink, now, and puffy.
Now.
“Something has just occurred to me, “ he lies, “.. something I should perhaps have thought of before. How very ungentlemanly of me. You are a young woman of perhaps not so very much experience, and suffer a little from some modesty, too - it is very charming, I assure you. At the same time, I cannot but help guessing that you are a little, shall we say, aroused?”
“Such arousal, for a young woman such as yourself, in the presence of an older man whom you hardly know, might well be embarrassing. I have only just seen this possibility. I do apologise.”
“Now, I’m going to suggest something which may sound a little strange, but hear me out. Your - shall I be bold and call it eagerness? Eagerness for sex - sex with me, I shall have to assume, if I am not being too presumptuous - is perhaps rather embarrassing. A girl like you would hate to think of herself as a slut, a tart. It would perhaps be hard to accept that you might wish to be fucked by me - excuse my Anglo-Saxonism, but sometimes it’s better to be clear in these matters. After all, I am not young, have no interests in common with you; you would have to accept that your willingness to be fucked by me would either be sluttishness or, perhaps yet more disturbing, a willingness to trade sex for imagined generosity with money - me being so rich.”
“Possibly even harder to accept of yourself - a pretty innocent like you - that you might have something of the whore in you.”
“And so - and now I come to the strange part - it might, perhaps (only perhaps) be more acceptable to you - in a strange, roundabout way - were I to rape you after all - force myself on you; give you no choice about how and when you are to be penetrated, fucked - even perhaps, where these penetrations will be. Because if you are raped, you must of course be absolved of sluttyness, and equally of all charges of whore-like behaviour.”
He has been watching her carefully through this. All his points have hit home, and hard. And yet she is still here, still clasping her hands behind her neck, still with her legs spread wide. And still breathing heavily, too.
At the word ‘slut’, at the mention of his wealth, the word ‘whore; at all of these she had winced, blushed. The word fucked had brought a new quiver to her belly, and the word rape a still more powerful jolt.
But still she presents herself very beautifully, hands tightly behind her neck, as he had suggested.
She is biting her lip now. He can hardly keep from taking her this instant, out-of-hand - all his experience notwithstanding. He grins to himself, but he keeps himself in check - always the long game with these girls - always the long game.
He lets the silence extend - for an age, this time. The girl is quivering non-stop. Obviously her arms are tired. But she seems unable to speak, to look at him, to do anything apart from wait for him.
“To be crystal clear, I can’t rape you, of course - I would never do such a thing, and it would expose me to terrible risk if I did. So it works like this. If you want me to - apparently - rape you, you’ll have to ask for it.”
“Otherwise, I am going to have to reluctantly conclude that you are incapable of simply offering yourself for normal sex with me, and go for that walk I had promised myself after all. It’s all one to me. I understand you’re leaving tomorrow.”
So this is it; either she has to beg him to fuck her, or beg him to rape her, or (and this won’t happen) he’ll have to get up and leave.
She keeps him waiting a minute or two, in the end; but then she whispers it - low, but clear, her voice a throaty, trembling thing;
“Rape me.”
He takes his time, deliberate and cruel - knocks her about a little - so that she will have bruises on her face for a few days, punches her solar plexus so that she crumples, winded, before folding her in half and pushing hard into her hot, wet sex - so that she is unable to breathe as he unzips his fly and penetrates her for the first time. A nice touch, he thinks. She squeals, and moans, and resists, half-heartedly, showing him her shocked eyes at the aggression and forcefulness of his treatment of her, shedding tears, yelping at the hard thrusts. But she never once asks him to stop, or tries to hurt him.
He cools things down over time, and eventually pleasures her; carefully, slowly, so that at the end she has an orgasm which obviously shocks her with its intensity and depth, and the harsh things he has done to her seem forgotten as she trembles on his lap, naked in his arms, her stickiness marking his suit, needing only a whispered hint to make her kneel and clean his cock with her mouth, then bring it back to hardness for a more leisurely second coupling. Halfway through he reminds her that he’s raping her, and tells her he intends to use her asshole next; she fights only feebly, and gives in with a moan that is half arousal, he is sure - although her cries of pain are real as he ignores how much it hurts him to tear violently into her virgin tightness, finishing with a shout, leaving her unsatisfied this time, as planned.
He holds her again, while she cries, and tells her she won’t be leaving tomorrow, that he wants to keep her. She seems to like this, although her tears still flow - but the tension goes out of her, and she moulds herself to him, opening her legs at his gentle pushing.
When Jason visits at half term with his new girlfriend Gemma, Tilly blushes prettily, but is also shyly proud to show them her collar, her various piercings, her wardrobe full of indecent outfits, the whip marks on her breasts and inner thighs, and the ring at the base of the Great Stair to which she is chained at night, naked.
The new girlfriend is shocked, but clearly intrigued, and within a week has been seduced by Tilly, allowing Jason to ‘discover’ them in flagrante and renounce Gemma as a slut.
A week later, He is breaking in a crying Gemma’s rear passage, as Tilly licks the girl’s clitoris.
Really, marrying the boy’s mother had been a good idea after all…
