Robert Vickers: Raped stepdaughter

The girl licked and sucked and soon had the man's cock bucking with intense desire. It wouldn't be long before he blew his wad. She could tell by the way the cock seemed to expand under her tongue's caresses.

The swollen length of prick managed to grow even more as she teased the acorn-like tip of it. The purpled hood spread a bit wider and the wild jerking increased until she could barely keep his prick between her lips.

She wanted to bite his prick off, but she knew better than to try that. He was in control. He could make her do whatever he wanted. And if she refused or made any trouble, he was in the position of being able to punish her severely.

His hands brutally gripped at her tits and threatened to pull the hard nubbs of nipple off. He was turning more and more animal-like as he continued. She wished she could get him off in a hurry. The girl was beginning to fear for her life.

Up to this point, he had been content with playing mind games. Everything he'd done had hurt, but the pain had been more psychological than physical. Sure, she hurt – bad. But she could live with it.

Now, he was beginning to enjoy seeing blood flow. Her bottom was well brutalized by the belt. She could still feel the thick red blood clotting on her buttocks. And the way he'd fucked her told that he wasn't above using that broom stick for things a lot more painful.

Anything goes. And he was calling the shots.

His cock stiffened, then gave a hard jerk. His hips went wild and he began stuffing his cock into her mouth, face fucking her.

This was it. She sucked hard. She had to milk him of every drop of his tasty cum. It was small reward for all she'd put up with, but it was better than nothing.

But he was going to deny her even this little pleasure. He yanked his prick out of her ruby lips, then jetted his cum into her face. Spurt after creamy spurt of his jism splattered onto her cheeks and eyelids. When he had matted part of her hair, his cock simply collapsed.

He had come in her face, not her mouth. He had cheated her once again.

"That'll do for now. I think I'll go rest." He started to leave.

"Wait! You can't go off like that!"

"You want more? All right. Later. After I've had a nap."

"Let me loose! You've used me, now let me go!"

"Later," he said, turning to leave. "Maybe."

The girl lay in her twisted position for another two hours before he came and let her loose.

Never in her young life had she hated a man more and been able to do so little about it.

"I don't believe your stepfather did all that to you, Melissa," Grant said. They were sitting in his parents' living room, alone. Grant's mother and father had gone to the movies and his older brother was out on a date. Only in such privacy did Melissa feel secure enough to actually tell him what had happened to her.

"Why should I lie to you?"

"I don't know. Hell, I don't like Jonathon any more than you do, but I can't believe anyone would do such awful things."

She fumed for a moment, then decided. She would show him. He couldn't possibly deny the evidence.

Standing, the girl began stripping off her jeans. The look on Grant's face told her he had something else in mind than show-and-tell.

"You just stay put. We're not fucking tonight. I can't. And I'm going to show you why not."

Mutely, he watched as the tight denim jeans dropped to the floor. The girl's legs were covered with ugly bruises turning every color of the rainbow. Thick yellowish-green splotches circled her ankles where she had been bound to the bed.

When he caught sight of the tortured ass, he said, "Christ! I-I don't know what to say. I'm sorry I doubted you. That motherfucking bastard is going to pay for this!"

"How, Grant?" she asked softly. "How are you going to make him pay? I've thought and thought. I can't do a thing to him."

"The police! We can go to the police. They'll help."

"Like hell they will. It's his word against mine. I'm a minor. And who'd believe kindly old stepfather Jonathon would do this to his nubile young daughter? No one, that's who. The cops would laugh me out of the station."

"No, they wouldn't. They… they couldn't!" Grant said with more determination than foresight.

"Do you think I'm going to parade in there, drop my pants and let them look me over? They'd get a kick out of it, then they'd kick me out on my ass. I know how they work. Hell, even in rape cases, they get their rocks off making the victim out to be the criminal."

"Yeah, maybe you're right, Melissa. But what, then? Jonathon can't go unpunished for this!"

She smiled. She was beginning to love Grant's sincerity, the way he actually cared for her. No one else in the whole world said the things he did. And he meant them. She could believe he loved her, too.

"Time will cure all wounds, as the saying goes. But God, I wish something could cure me of the pain here!"

She looked down at her pussy. The red lines where he'd hit her with the wire coat hanger were still visible. They crossed her pussy mound and decorated her cunt lips with violent streaks.

Grant whistled in a low, heartfelt whistle. "Christ on a crutch, I never realized…"

"It's okay, Grant. Really. I just wish I didn't have to put up with it again. But I will."

"No!"

"How can I get out of it?" she asked. "Look, be reasonable. I'm not old enough to have anyone believe Jonathon has done this to me. Hell, they would be just as likely to blame you and make it stick. I don't want to get anyone in trouble. Especially you."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, then melted together. Theft lips met and crushed fiercely together. Soon, the girl felt a gentle nudging against her ruby red lips. She parted them a little and the boy's tongue came rushing into her mouth.

There, tongues duelled. She was soon panting as a rough, pink tongue stroked and caressed across hers. She returned the gentle massaging motions with her own.

Before either knew it, they collapsed to the floor and were locked in a passionate embrace. As the rough carpeting cut into the girl's still tender ass, she flinched.

"Sorry," she said, drawing away from Grant.

"I understand. If only I could help…"

His voice trailed off, then he suddenly stood. He walked to the bar and came back with a bottle of white wine. She looked up at him, unsure what he had in mind.

"On your back and spread those pretty legs. This is going to be a feast for both of us."

She knew then what he intended doing. She smiled as she obeyed his command. She said, "A loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou."

"And I'll be fat, drunk and in trouble," he finished.

She winced as the cool wine flowed across her heated pussy lips. The alcohol burned wherever it touched the savaged cunt lips but the healing soon took effect. The coolness made her relax for the first time since her stepfather had done this horrible thing to her.

And when the boy's mouth clamped onto her wine soaked snatch, she knew she'd found paradise.

"That's great, Grant, I love it!" she cooed.

She let the ripples of delight pass throughout her body. It seemed an eternity to the girl since she'd felt this good. Sex was good fucking was the greatest thing ever. But what had been done to her shouldn't have been done to a dog.

The teenager had actually come to think of fucking as something which must have pain along with it. Grant was slowly reeducating her. His tongue was dancing all over her super-heated cunt. It dragged roughly along one ridge of pussy lip and then pressed firmly into her cunt hole.

She shivered but she wasn't cold. This was the way it should be. To have his mouth sucking and licking all over her twat was something she'd missed. To have thought a belt or a wire coat hanger whipping her across the cunt lips was proper foreplay was sick.