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Date: Sun, 21 Nov 2004 18:15:56 -0500
From: John Simmons <around@here.com>
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Subject: The Nasty Black Stepfather - M/f, BDSM, INTERRACIAL
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===================
A spoiled lazy, blonde beauty gets a new strict stepfather when her
mother remarries - a stern, powerfully built Black man.
Kevin sensed something wrong as soon as he pulled into the driveway.
The driveway led to the bungalow's two car garage, but also split off to
curve in front of the main doors. The front yard was dark, and
everything looked fine. It just didn't feel fine. And he found himself
looking around suspiciously as he got out of the car. He stopped and
walked over to the side of the path and then bent over a little, making
a face at what looked like chilled vomit. He turned and glared at the
house, then turned back and went inside.
He cursed as he stepped into the house, a strong odor of stale beer
and cigarettes wafting around the corner even before he got into the
living room. The place was a mess, with open pizza boxes, and cans and
bottles of beer scattered all over the tables and floor. Pictures were
askew, the glass on one cracked, and the chair which should have been
pushed into the antique desk was lying on its side, one leg broken.
He narrowly avoided stepping in a puddle of beer, peeled an
upside down slice of pizza off the rug, and then moved into the kitchen.
The fridge and freezer doors were wide open, and he shoved them closed
as he shook his head at the mess. The counter and table were filled with
crap.
Half empty bowls, plates and cups were littered about. Open
jars of mayonnaise, peanut butter and strawberry jelly were sitting on
the counter, with dirty bread knives either stuck into them or laying on
the counter alongside.
He walked up the hall, his anger rising, and shoved open the
door to his stepdaughter's room. It was a mess, with clothes, books,
makeup, CDs and DVDs littering the floor. But then, it always looked
that way. The bed was unmade, as usual, the sheets thrown back. A black
thong lay in the middle of the bed, the strap ripped, and Collin stared
at it for a long moment before turning away.
He went up the hall to the guest room. It was far tidier, but
here too the sheets were thrown back from the bed, and he glowered at
it. He went into the master bedroom. The sheets here were on the floor,
and several empty beer bottles were on the night tables. He could hear
water dripping, and walked into the adjoining bath to find the big round
tub full, almost to the rim, and water splashed over the edge and onto
the floor. The big glass shower enclosure was open, the door cracked,
and here too there were beer bottles, empty and half empty, scattered
everywhere.
"Tori!" he yelled, his anger building into a terrible thing.
He turned and strode back up the hall, his jaw set and tight.
When he had been a chief petty officer in the navy all his men had come
to recognize that this was a sign to keep clear and to repent whatever
sins they had committed. Kevin threw open the door to the basement and
stomped down the stairs, glaring about, searching for her.
And found her.
He had redone this part of the basement himself. None of
that fake paneling shit. He had put in real cedar boards, polished until
they gleamed. There was a nice, comfortable green wall to wall carpet,
some decent furniture, including an L-shaped sofa in the far corner, and
a full wet bar. In the near corner was a gas fireplace. It was turned
on, and some idiots had thrown things into the fire.
In the middle of the room was a large billiard table done
in old oak, with a brown felt surface. And laying on her back in the
middle of it was his stepdaughter Tori.
Tori had come into his life two years ago when he'd begun
seeing her mother. She'd been a resentful, jealous brat then, and she
hadn't much changed. She'd been sixteen then, and on the edge of being a
high school dropout. He'd worked with young men all his life, and
recognized the type. She needed a hard kick in the ass to set her on the
right road. Unfortunately, her mother hadn't seen it that way, and he'd
been too chary of interfering, even after the two had moved in with him.
Sara was a delightful, sweet, beautiful, guileless woman
with a great sense of humor, but she was too damned nice, and Tori had
been her only child. She'd spoiled her rotten, and even though it had
long become apparent even to her that the kid was out of control she
hadn't been able to do anything to bring her up short.
He walked over to stand next to the pool table, folding his
arms across his massive chest, and glared down at the girl.
Oh yes, he knew exactly what to do to young men, and if
she'd been a young man, and if her mother had allowed it, he would have
long since taught Tori a thing or two. But girls were - not his forte.
He'd never completely understood them, and he was distracted by the way
their bodies moved and curved in all those lovely little ways.
Even now, glowering down at the girl, who lay on her back,
eyes closed, jaw slack, chest rising and falling, he felt that familiar
distraction. She was wearing a pair of tight, dark, low slung trousers,
the black strap of her thong visible on one hip. Above that was a short,
far too-tight white halter top over her full, firm, obviously braless
breasts. It was thin enough to see her nipples, and Kevin felt a thrum
of eagerness coming from between his legs.
Slut, he thought. Useless, brainless little twat is good
for only one thing.
And he was willing to bet she'd been doing it that evening,
when she'd been grounded, no one allowed over to visit. Her mother was a
travel agent currently on a trip to Puerto Rico, and the girl had
promised her she would be on her best behavior. But that was this
morning. Clearly she'd had already planned the party. God damn bitch!
The thought of the cost and time and effort he'd have to
put into cleaning up the mess and repairing the damage caused by this
useless, lying little bitch made Kevin fume.
She stirred and her blue eyes fluttered. She groaned, and
stretched, and Collin was again distracted by the way her breasts pushed
up against that thin halter top.
I ought to bend the slut over and just give it to her. At
least she's good for that much!
She seemed to catch sight of him, and rolled over with a
low groan, her eyes glazed, and smiled slowly. "Hey, Kevin," she said in
a low, slurred voice. There was too much makeup around her eyes, and he
felt the urge to grab a towel, wet it, and mash it down into her
slender, pretty face until he washed all the gunk off.
"I thought you were told you couldn't have anyone over," he
snapped.
She smiled again and giggled a little. "Just partying," she
said. "Want to… want to party, Kevin?" she asked in a long, slurred purr.
She reached out with her left hand and pressed it against
his groin, and Kevin was too shocked at first to react. His cock did,
swelling almost immediately as the girl squeezed him, and she snickered
knowingly even as he jumped back.
"You little whore!" he snarled. "I ought to take a belt to
your backside!"
"Ooo," she said mockingly. "Sounds kinky! Want to spank me,
Kevin, honey?"
She ran a tongue seductively along her lower lip and
crawled a little closer to the edge of the table.
"What are you on? Booze or pills?" he demanded.
She sighed in a long suffering manner. "You're so boring,
Kevin. Bo-ring. Just like the old lady."
She picked up a ball and let her tongue slide along the
surface as she looked up at him from beneath heavy lashes. "I like
licking balls, Kevin," she taunted.
"I bet you lick a lot of them, you little whore," he growled.
He had moved back to the edge of the table, and he was
aware that he'd done it purposefully, to put himself back in range. His
mind was swirling with conflicting emotions now. There was disgust,
anger, and outrage, but something more, a hot lust for the slim young
blonde with her thick, tangled hair. The latter had always been there to
some extent.
He was no superman, and she was a lithe, beautiful little
flirt. And she was blonde. Kevin had always had a thing for blondes. He
wasn't unique in that. As black as the ace of spades, his skin flexed
across his ample muscles as he looked down at her, and thought of his
wedding, and all the smirks his brothers and the black men who had
looked at her had given him.
All the old clichés about Black men lusting after blonde
girls, all the clichés about white women hot for big black cock, had all
lain unspoken, but openly thought about as they'd watched the little
slut dance and roll her hips, and thought the old black man's fantasy
about pounding their meat into a pretty blonde pussy. But Kevin had
always been very careful, perhaps because of those clichés. He'd never
hinted at any desire for the blonde girl, more than content with his
lovely brunette wife.
Marrying a white woman. Who'd have believed it back in South
Central LA, when he'd been growing up? Who'd have believed it when he
was a young sailor full of piss and vinegar, with no knowledge about
women at all? Of course, he'd had white women before - whores, mostly.
But there'd always been white women fascinated by a big, handsome black
stud, willing to spread their legs and take a walk on the dark side, on
the black side, just to see what it was like, just to brag to their
girlfriends later.
She reached for him again, her small hand squeezing his
groin, and, when he didn't pull back, rubbing up and down along the
hardening length of his cock..
"Oooo," she said. "I can see what mommy likes. I guess what
they say about Black men is true."
She wriggled a little closer, and looked up at him
seductively - or as seductively as a drunken teenager could manage, her
head almost at the edge of the pool table now.
"You got a stiffy for me, Kevin?" she cooed.
She undid the clasp of his jeans, and Kevin felt a lurch, a
shock to his system. Now was the time to back away, to smack the bitch
on the head, to curse her and order her to clean things up. But he
remained frozen, breathless, as he tugged down his zipper and, still
smirking coyly up at him, rubbed his cock through his boxers.
"Does mom suck you good, Kevin?" she cooed. "I bet I suck
better than her. I bet I can blow your socks off, old man."
She pulled his cock out into the bright light coming from
above the table, and seemed to do a double take, licking her lips
appreciatively. Then she arched her neck forward and licked along the
edge of his cockhead.
Kevin was quivering with uncertainty. He wanted to jerk
away, and at the same time wanted to fuck the hot little slut's brains
out. This was fucking idiotic! It could cost him his marriage if his
wife found out about it. He didn't need this!
But as her soft, pouting lips slid over the head of his
cock and she began to take in his shaft he felt a burning, yearning
need. The whore! The little blonde slut! I'll fucking show her her
goddam place!
He reached down and filled his fist with her soft, tangled
hair and then thrust forward into the warm moist mouth wrapped around
his prick. She gagged, her eyes jerking open, and tried to pull back.
But he twisted his fist in her hair and held her in place. She gagged
and choked but he reached down and gripped her hand as it reached back
and caught at his wrist. He twisted it free, then pinned it there
against the back of her neck.
"Come on, you little slut!" he growled. "You wanted to show
me what a great little cocksucker you were. Do it. Do it!"
He was pumping into her mouth in shot, sharp, deep thrusts,
knowing he was gagging her as the head of his cock jabbed deep into her
mouth.
He eased back a little, glaring, and she caught her breath
and started to suck, her tongue whipping back and forth against his cock
head as he pumped slowly in her mouth. "That's it, you fucking whore.
Suck my prick. Filthy, useless little bitch. At least you're good for
one thing."
He didn't let her move much, thrusting in and out as he
held her in place He slid his now gleaming, glistening black cock back
and forth through her small pink lips, over her soft, luscious wet
tongue, and felt his balls throbbing with hunger. She was clearly no
virgin, but she was no pro either, and he'd had his prick serviced in
some of the nastier ports in Asia.
"Is that the best you can do, white girl?" he sneered. "You
think that's cock sucking? You wouldn't last ten minutes in Bangkok or
Manila like this. I'll show you how to eat meat, little girl."
And he thrust into her hard and deep. He felt the head of
his cock striking the back of her mouth, the entrance to her throat,
then it pushed through, and she gagged and struggled weakly as he forced
the long thick shaft down her throat. Her body twisted, her legs kicking
and jerking weakly on the table, her free hand lacking any strength or
coordination as it tried to push and slap at his belly. He just gripped
that hand and pinned it with the other behind her head, then pulled her
by the hair until her face was just over the edge of the table.
He drove himself down her throat to the hilt, forcing her
face and nose in tight against his groin and holding her there, feeling
a wild surge of elation, of conquest, of macho power as the girl's lithe
young body writhed and jerked in slow, twitching, jerky motion. Her legs
and feet tried to find purchase, to push herself up, but he had too firm
a hold on her hair and head.
And then he began to pump, using long, thick strokes,
running his fat shaft up and down the little slut's throat, jamming the
dazed, gurgling blonde teen's face against his pubic bone again and
again and again as her face got red, then white.
He pulled out, and she coughed violently, her entire body
shaking, and gulped in air in short, ragged gasps.
"You throw up and you'll fucking eat it!" he growled.
He wrapped her hair around his fist and jerked her head up
and back, slapping it lightly with his wet prick, then fed it through
her gaping mouth, rubbing the head along her tongue as his face
contorted into a cruel leer. He pushed deeper, sliding the head into the
entrance to her throat, taunting and teasing her, pulling back and then
pushing it forward, letting his cockhead tease the entrance to her
throat so she kept gagging.
Then he laughed and slid it deeper, slowly, slapping aside
her hand, letting it sink deep into her throat so he could grind her
face into his groin. He held himself there, grinding, then pulled back
again, let the head pop just free, then let his prick slide slowly down
into her throat once more, twisting her hair, pulling on it to pull her
face into his groin.
He reached down and squeezed one of her breasts, feeling
another little shock at his daring as his fingers sank into the soft
flesh, then a hard thrum of excitement as they kept sinking. Fantastic
tits!
He released her wrists, grabbing at her halter. He caught
it low, behind her shoulder blades, and yanked hard enough to tear the
thin fabric up and back. One more hard yank and it tore right off, and
she was naked above the waist. He yanked her head up and back, then down
and forward, and her eyes rolled, her jaw slack as he thrust himself
into her mouth again, and immediately rammed his prick down her throat.
She shuddered and moaned, her eyes glassy and dazed. He
wrapped more of he hair around his fist and pulled her face up against
his groin. He was literally holding her head and shoulders off the table
by the hair now as he began to pump hard and fast into her mouth and
throat. Her hands pushed feebly at his belly, then dropped, jerking and
trembling on the table as she hung there dazedly, his cock sliding in
and out of her mouth, his groin slapping into her face.
He reached down and filled his other hand with her soft,
warm breast, squeezing and kneading it, working his fingers against the
nipple as he worked his hips in and out. He reveled in the soft,
fullness of it, on how warm and incredible her breast felt as his
fingers sank into it again and again.
She gurgled and choked on his meat as he raped her throat,
but Kevin felt no pity for her. On the contrary, he began to feel a
towering anger. God knew what trouble he was going to get into for this.
Surely the little slut would tell Sara, and then what? Dirty, stinking
little good for nothing whore!
"Choke on it!" he snarled. "Choke on it, you fucking whore!"
He slapped a big, hard hand down against her wriggling
bottom and she squealed in pain, jerking violently. "Little slut!"
He pulled out of her throat and flung her head and
shoulders backwards. She coughed and gasped for breath, twisting weakly,
and he reached for and grabbed her leg, yanking it towards him, spinning
her around, pulling until her groin was on the edge of the table, her
legs fallen off. He gripped the sides of her pants and yanked down hard,
then up, peeling them and her thong over her hips, lifting her legs high
as he forced them roughly over her knees and then ripped them off.
She was still dazed, chest still heaving, still gulping in
air, eyes glazed as he looked down along her naked body, and what a body
it was, full and firm, with pale, downy soft skin. She had no pussy
hair, and he cursed her as a slut again as he spread her legs wide, wide
apart, lifting her bottom up and then dropping it.
"D-Don't!" she said, coughing, gasping, trying to push
herself up.
He pressed his saliva coated cock against her opening and
rubbed the head up and down, feeling the slickness of her spit easing
his way as he pushed into her. The head of his fat cock slowly forced
her sex lips in and back, and then he lunged forward, falling over her,
grabbing at her hair again as he crushed his lips down against hers.
She moaned and beat against him weakly as his cock slid
deep into her belly, but her resistance and strength crumbled almost at
once as he buried himself in her warm sex and ground against her.
"You like that, baby? You like that?" he panted.
His mouth crushed hers, his tongue thrusting into her oral
cavity as he mauled her breast and ground himself against her. She
moaned and writhed against him, eyes rolling.
"Bitch. Fucking white whore!"
He began to thrust, working his hips in and out, up and
down, driving his cock into her tight snug hole, his body crushing the
slender girl against the table. Her legs were spread wide around him,
her knees trembling and jerking in mid-air. But then those legs slowly
curled in around his back and pulled against him, and he cursed anew,
thrusting harder, deeper, faster.
She cried out again and again, gasping and moaning and
grunting as he used his cock like a spear, like a weapon, ramming it up
into her belly. He yanked at her hair and bit into her throat, growling
with lust, animal-like. His hand squeezed and twisted her breast. Then
he caught her fat nipple between his lips, sucking, chewing on the
areola. All the while his hips pounded violently, ramming into her.
She was grunting and gasping with every thrust but Collin
sensed other than pain there, snarling at her as he watched her body
shudder to the force of his thrusts. He watched her shoulders roll,
watched her back arching in slow, rhythmic waves, watched her glazed
eyes go glassy as her head rolled back, and felt the clenching and
unclenching of her thighs around his hips.
He slapped her face, rocking it to the side, then put a big
hand over her throat, covering it entirely, squeezing it. She grabbed at
his wrist with both small hands, staring up at him, then let her hands
go limp, gasping and bucking as an orgasm took her.
"Whore!" he snarled, squeezing his fingers tighter around
her throat as he rammed himself into her belly.
Her body began to buck spastically, her hands falling back
onto the table top on either side of her head, jerking and bouncing as
she came, and he felt her pussy spasming and squeezing even harder
around his cock. It was too much, for only super human endurance had let
him hold out this long. He exploded inside his stepdaughter's pussy,
pouring his hot cream down into the girl's womb as he clenched his teeth
and gasped in pleasure. Every beat of his heart send a new flood of jism
pouring down into the teenager below him, and he relaxed his grip on her
throat, gasping, weakening at last, his hips slowing.
He staggered back against the bar, gasping for breath, his
eyes never leaving the girl. She lay draped across the table, groaning,
naked, her hands at her throat as she gulped in deep, ragged breaths of
air.
His lust was eased, but still present, pushed aside now by
a renewal of his anger, not just at her but at himself.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! he thought. A stiff prick has no
conscience!
He glared at her. It was her fault, of course. How was a
man supposed to resist when a hot little slut like that grabbed his
prick?! Fucking little whore! He could just imagine who would believe
him, who would take his side. A big nigger fucking a skinny little
blonde teenager. Sure. They'd believe it wasn't his fault!
And now he had to clean the place up, after a long day of
work, and he knew he'd get little, if any help from her. She'd lay
around like a princess while he worked his ass off to clean up his mess!
Well godamned if she would! He remembered, suddenly, one of the
punishments a Tokyo pimp had told him about for girls who acted up.
Didn't leave a mark on them, but by God they remembered it!
A part of him realized he was not thinking straight, but
another part told him he was already in too deep for anything to matter.
The bitch had a hand over her pussy, and it didn't look
like it was comforting her soreness as she half rolled onto her side.
He did up his pants, his eyes narrow and filled with anger,
and pushed himself back to his feet. He grabbed an ankle and yanked
hard, sliding her slim body along the table. She yelped and grasped at
the edge as he pulled her off, and that softened her fall. He dropped
her ankle and reached down, gripping her hair instead, yanking it
forward, ignoring her cry of pain.
He half dragged her along the floor on her belly before she
got her hands and knees under her.
"Don't! Stop it! Let me go!" she cried.
He forced her to crawl to the door at the end of the room,
and opened it. Beyond was the unfinished portion of the basement. There
was a half bathroom on the left, a washer, dryer and sink on the right.
He could smell urine in the sink, and snarled as he forced her to crawl
through and past it through another door. This was the furnace, the hot
water heater, electrical panels, the old oil tank, and he led her past
and to the last room. It was big and open, his work benches and counters
were here, along with a scattering of tools, paints, lubricants, and old
junk.
He snatched a roll of duct tape off a counter as he led the
crawling girl roughly to the side, and then shoved her face down on the
cold stone floor. He bent suddenly, jamming his knee into the small of
her back, then pulled her slender wrist up and back. He tore open the
role and rolled it around her wrist twice, then yanked back the other
wrist, pinned them together, and rolled the tape around it several times.
"Wh-what are you d-doing!?" she cried drunkenly.
"You're gonna sit around while I clean up, slut, but it's
not going to be a soft seat," Kevin grunted.
He yanked on her hair again, and again she cried out in
pain, forced upwards, onto her knees, then her feet as he shoved her
belly against the sawhorse standing next to the wall.
"Throw your legs across it," he barked.
She didn't understand, and moaned dazedly.
He cursed, reached down, and gripped her thigh, then lifted
it up and threw it over the sawhorse. He shifted her body by the hair,
and again she cried, and came down fully onto the narrow wooden edge.
She gasped and tried to adjust her position as the rough wood pushed up
into her soft, bare sex, but Kevin held her in place, bending to yank
her left leg up and back.
The crossbeam pushed out about a foot on either side of the
legs, so while she was directly over one set of legs she was firmly
sitting on it. Kevin taped her ankles apart to the legs, then stepped
back to glare at her, feeling his cock twitching as he watched the
blonde trying to twist and shift to take the weight off her pussy.
She reeled and swayed and moaned, and he thought for a
moment she might tip the horse over onto its side. He looked around
balefully, and his eyes caught on a box in the corner. He moved to it,
yanked it open, and fished inside, coming out with the leash and choke
chain he'd packed away after his Doberman, Jock had died four years
earlier.
Now he went back to the girl, sliding the choke chain over
her mass of tangled blonde hair, then pulling it tight around her
slender throat. He looked above him, and saw a hook driven into the
ceiling beam overhead. A tall man, he was able to reach up easily, then
jam one of the links of the chain over it.
He stepped back, watching her with a sense of satisfaction.
The chain was not too tight, as long as she sat up straight. But if she
leaned forward or to the sides the chain would bring her up short, just
as it had Jock.
He turned and left the room. He would start upstairs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
From the ebook: The Wicked Stepfather, by Argus
Argus books have been published by Virgin Nexus, Silver Moon, Star,
Olympia, Chimera, and Beeline. His ebooks are available for downloading
at http://www.ebookblue.com