out as her stepfather looked up, straight at her. The man’s wife was climaxing, shaking all over with pleasure, swallowing his cum the best she could—he spilled copious amounts of the stuff and it dribbled out the sides of her mouth—but Georgia knew, she knew , he was really talking to her. He wanted his stepdaughter to come. Now. Right fucking now.
And to Georgia’s own shock and surprise, her body responded to his command.
She came, with such great force she thought it might tear her apart, even though Georgia hadn’t touched herself . As the hot, quivering pulses ripped through her, stole her breath, gave her already shaking body the strength of gelation, she knelt, stunned, feeling the flood of her juices that had already soaked her panties move onto her thighs. Even as her mother shook all over with her contractions, her stepfather pulled everything from her body and unbound her.
He walked from the space Georgia could see into as her mother moved slowly, like a wounded animal, off the table to grab a robe. Her stepfather cradled the woman, soothing her, and she looked up at him with such worship and admiration, it took Georgia’s breath away. She knew that feeling. She knew it well.
Georgia’s phone buzzing in her pocket startled her, and she blinked a few times before she gained the wits back to grab the thing. Sliding her hand over the screen to read the text that had come through, under her father’s name and number, it said, “Sitting Room. 8:00AM.”
She saw him looking up at her.
Then the room went dark.
Her alarm pulled her from a deep sleep at seven-fifty in the morning. The smell of her own sex hit her first as she pushed aside her covers, littered with sex toys. Groggy, she pulled on clothes, still waking up as she ran down to the sitting room. She entered to find her father sitting on a chair, legs crossed, one arm propped up on the arm of the leather, his first two fingers swirling over his thumb.
In his weekend silk dress pants and shirt, no tie, he was a harsh contrast to her mother, the frail shell of a woman who stood in the corner, shoulders slumped, head down, in a basic black frock of a dress. Georgia entering had not even roused the woman.
“Say good-bye to your mother, Georgia.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “She’s traveling to Spain today to be admitted into a recovery clinic where she’ll be treated and instructed to reclaim her spirit.”
Her mother lifted her head slightly as Georgia went to hug the woman. Wrapping her arms around the tired, defeated skeleton, she wondered if her mother had a spirit left to reclaim. Giving her a gentle squeeze, acutely aware her mother hadn’t even made an effort to raise her arms to hug her daughter back, tears stung Georgia’s eyes only a second before she willed them away.
“ You have the spirit,” her mother whispered into her ear.
Pulling back, Georgia’s face scrunched up in shock and horror, her mind playing through the possible implications of the woman’s words as, with the ding of a bell, a servant appeared to take her mother away to a waiting car. Georgia could see it through the corner of the window.
“I expect you bathed and in the Wine Cellar Tasting Room by nine o’clock,” her father demanded, his harsh tone making her jump, her ass tighten. “Wear that black whorish shit you do to school. Doll yourself up, goth-girl. And bring your toys.”
She turned to look at him, willing the terror on her face into a blank stare. She’d been excited yesterday, but now, it was real. This was really happening. Fear clawed her belly. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. Needing nothing more than that to gratefully flee to her room, Georgia sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her through the big house to her room.
Breathing heavily, she grabbed her luggage out of her closet and began to pull her good stuff from her drawers. After tossing it in wrinkled clumps into the big suitcase, she grabbed the smaller
And to Georgia’s own shock and surprise, her body responded to his command.
She came, with such great force she thought it might tear her apart, even though Georgia hadn’t touched herself . As the hot, quivering pulses ripped through her, stole her breath, gave her already shaking body the strength of gelation, she knelt, stunned, feeling the flood of her juices that had already soaked her panties move onto her thighs. Even as her mother shook all over with her contractions, her stepfather pulled everything from her body and unbound her.
He walked from the space Georgia could see into as her mother moved slowly, like a wounded animal, off the table to grab a robe. Her stepfather cradled the woman, soothing her, and she looked up at him with such worship and admiration, it took Georgia’s breath away. She knew that feeling. She knew it well.
Georgia’s phone buzzing in her pocket startled her, and she blinked a few times before she gained the wits back to grab the thing. Sliding her hand over the screen to read the text that had come through, under her father’s name and number, it said, “Sitting Room. 8:00AM.”
She saw him looking up at her.
Then the room went dark.
Her alarm pulled her from a deep sleep at seven-fifty in the morning. The smell of her own sex hit her first as she pushed aside her covers, littered with sex toys. Groggy, she pulled on clothes, still waking up as she ran down to the sitting room. She entered to find her father sitting on a chair, legs crossed, one arm propped up on the arm of the leather, his first two fingers swirling over his thumb.
In his weekend silk dress pants and shirt, no tie, he was a harsh contrast to her mother, the frail shell of a woman who stood in the corner, shoulders slumped, head down, in a basic black frock of a dress. Georgia entering had not even roused the woman.
“Say good-bye to your mother, Georgia.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “She’s traveling to Spain today to be admitted into a recovery clinic where she’ll be treated and instructed to reclaim her spirit.”
Her mother lifted her head slightly as Georgia went to hug the woman. Wrapping her arms around the tired, defeated skeleton, she wondered if her mother had a spirit left to reclaim. Giving her a gentle squeeze, acutely aware her mother hadn’t even made an effort to raise her arms to hug her daughter back, tears stung Georgia’s eyes only a second before she willed them away.
“ You have the spirit,” her mother whispered into her ear.
Pulling back, Georgia’s face scrunched up in shock and horror, her mind playing through the possible implications of the woman’s words as, with the ding of a bell, a servant appeared to take her mother away to a waiting car. Georgia could see it through the corner of the window.
“I expect you bathed and in the Wine Cellar Tasting Room by nine o’clock,” her father demanded, his harsh tone making her jump, her ass tighten. “Wear that black whorish shit you do to school. Doll yourself up, goth-girl. And bring your toys.”
She turned to look at him, willing the terror on her face into a blank stare. She’d been excited yesterday, but now, it was real. This was really happening. Fear clawed her belly. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. Needing nothing more than that to gratefully flee to her room, Georgia sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her through the big house to her room.
Breathing heavily, she grabbed her luggage out of her closet and began to pull her good stuff from her drawers. After tossing it in wrinkled clumps into the big suitcase, she grabbed the smaller
Similar Books
Promise Me Forever
Lorraine Heath
Better to Eat You
Charlotte Armstrong
Paradigm Rift: Book One of the Back to Normal Series
Randy McWilson
The Boy with the Porcelain Blade
Den Patrick
Xander and the Lost Island of Monsters
Margaret Dilloway
Sky Song: Overture
Meg Merriet
Raisonne Curse
Rinda Elliott
Penelope Crumb Never Forgets
Shawn Stout
Shatter
Joan Swan
Qatar: Small State, Big Politics
Mehran Kamrava