Wicked Step Sister
It had been a crazy, hectic week for Jean. Being sixteen, everything
seemed drastic and life-altering, but Jean wasn't one who normally
gave in to the regulare teen-age over-reactions to things, but this
week was, indeed, life changing. She had done a good job coping
thus far, and she hoped this would in that vain.
It was Saturday night. Last Sunday, she and her mother, Carrie,
had moved out of their apartment into her mother's fiancé's
house. Tom was a nice guy, Jean really liked him a lot and was glad
her mother was happy - and she was happy; happy than Jean had ever
seen her. There hadn't been much to move, so it went quickly enough.
Afterall, Tom had a fairly big house - well, at least compared to
the apartment Jean and her mom had shared - and it was already nicely
furnished. Most of Jean and her mother's furnishings had been gotten
rid of, which was fine for her. It was weird moving into someone
else's house, though, because it made Jean feel like a guest, that
it wasn't really her place. She kind of felt like she was in the
Especially because Jean was moved into Tom's daughter's room.
Morgan was sixteen, too, which made it awkward. Morgan and Jean
had met many times, of course, and they had always gotten along
very well, chatting like old friends. But now they were living together.
In the same room, and Jean was the invader, stealing Morgan's space.
It would only be temporary. Tom and Carrie were looking for a
new house, one a little bigger so that the girls would have more
space. But that was still a few months off at the very least.
Jean had also switched schools in that time. She had been in public
school, and the move, though not far, put her in a different school
district. Morgan went to a private school, and Tom had insisted
that Jean, instead of being placed in a new public school, transfer
to Morgan's school. Carrie had agreed, and Jean had started accompanying
Morgan to school that Monday, the day after she had moved in. Another
way that she was infringing on Morgan's space - Jean was actually
embarrassed by it all.
Worse still, in Jean's mind, was Morgan was so much prettier than
she was. Morgan was tall, atheletic, beautiful red-brown that hung
down to her shoulders in naturally perfect curls. Her stomach was
tight and perfect, lacking the pudge that Jean had. Her legs were
long, very long, and so perfectly sculpted and beautiful, especially
in when Morgan wore heels. Morgan's breasts were a little smaller
than Jean, but they seemed so perfect, and perky. Her butt was ridiculously
tight. To Jean, Morgan was a perfect specimen of female beauty.
Jean felt completely out-classed by Morgan, especially this night.
In fact, next to her, she felt down right ugly.
It was Saturday evening. It was the night of her mother's and
Tom's wedding. Morgan was the 'Best Man' and Jean the Maid of Honor.
They wore identical red dresses, and it looked so much better on
Morgan, Jean hated every moment the two of them were next to each
other - it made the contrast between them so much more obvious.
Morgan was just so beautiful and perfect - so freaking hot in that
dress, Jean wanted to cry. Or scream.
The night passed quietly, thought, and it was a very happy, joyous
celebration. Morgan was, as always, very pleasant and smiling with
glee. She had managed to charm one of the young waiters into allowing
her and Jean to partake of the Champaign - they had a bottomless
supply and the two girls, not having many people there age to hang
out with, spent a good deal of the cock-tail hour off to one side
downing the bubbly between wedding photos.
Morgan dragged Jean out onto the dance floor through out the night.
Jean was embarrassed - they were the center of attention and her
she was being displayed next to the model of female beauty. Though,
drunk as she was, she danced, not caring how graceful her new step-sister
was. It started right after dinner. Their parents, the newly-weds,
had the official first dance. It was choreographed, a waltz, and
they looked lovely and happy together. The next dance, unbenounced
to Jean, was the Groomsmen Bridesmaids dance. It was a rumba or
something like that, and Morgan had pulled a surprised Jean onto
the dance floor and pulled her in, taking the part of the man in
this dance. She led Jean through it - Morgan, it turned out, had
taken years of ballroom dance and quite the dancer. It was very
easy to follow the movies, Morgan was a great lead, but Jean had
no clue what she was doing and she was sure it was obvious to everyone,
despite Morgan's lead. And they were the only two dancing, so all
eyes were on them. She was completely embarrassed; she kept apologizing
to Morgan and blushing; Morgan simply smiled sweetly and told her
not to worry about it - she hadn't known about the dance either,
and she would make sure to not do anything too tricky. She was so
nice and wonderful and perfect. And Jean looked up into Morgan's
beautiful brown eyes, as they dances, she felt so overcome she nearly
kissed her step-sister. Of course, the several glasses of Champaign
had helped motivate the feelings.
When the dance finally stopped, Morgan bowed to Jean, who curtsied
in return, and everyone stood and clapped and cheered for the girls
- for Morgan, Jean thought to herself.
But, all in all, Jean had a wonderful time, and had really enjoyed
dancing with Morgan, and she enjoyed the girl's laugh and her smile.
They had a blast together, and even by the end of the party, the
Champaign was still flowing and they were both pretty giggly. Their
parents were chauffeured off to their honeymoon suite, and the girls
stayed for a while to say good bye to all the guests. Finally, the
limousine returned and picked them up to take them home.
It was a short ride, and the two of them sat in the back, smiling
at each other drunkenly, but not saying anything. When they got
back to the house, the house they would share, just the two of them,
for the next week and a half while their parents were on their honeymoon,
they both trudged up to their bedroom and got ready for bed.
It was a large enough room for the two girls, but Jean felt terrible
that she had come in and forced Morgan to accommodate her there.
Morgan never seemed to mind though; it was as if Jean's presence
did not even infringe on her life. They had their own bathroom,
too, that joined to their room - a full bath with a bath tub and
everything. There was, fortunately, a second bathroom on the second
floor, so at least they did not need to wait for each other to shower
Morgan tossed her shoes into the closet, her side of it, anyway,
and sighed. "Long night," she said, sounding tired. "Unzip
Jean stepped up behind her and undid the zipper, as asked, and
Morgan spun around and unzipped her. Morgan shrugged the dress of
her shoulders and hung it up. She was wearing a lacy black thong,
very sexy, and nothing else. Once her dress was hung, she flopped
down onto her, not bothering to put anything else on.
Jean was a little slower to undress. It never ceased to surprise
her over the week they had shared the room just how casual Morgan
was about nudity. She would get out of the shower and enter the
room with a towel around her head, but nothing on. She would hang
out sometimes in the room completely naked, or sometimes just in
her underwear, and she never cared about Jean being there. It made
Jean a little embarrassed to see her naked - she always felt like
she was staring, and she was - but also it made Jean feel self-conscious
when she did not walk around naked. She felt like Morgan would think
less of her for keeping a towel wrapped around her body or wearing
a robe or something. And Morgan always wore matching bra and panties,
usually something colorful or lacy and sexy - seemed like most,
if not all, of her underwear came from Victoria Secret. Of course
she looked amazing in it.
Jean slipped out of her dress and quickly into shorts and a t-shirt,
her usual sleep wear. She was still a bit stumbly from all the alcohol,
and she crawled immediately into bed, ready to sleep. She was exhausted,
and fell onto her stomach, her face in her pillow. She felt her
bed shift, though, and Morgan was sitting on the edge, still only
in her thong. Her boobs were plainly before Jean's eyes, and Jean
couldn't look away. She wanted to reach up and touch them - see
if they felt as perfect as they looked.
Morgan was handing her something. A glass of water and some Tylenol.
"You should drink this. Should help with the hang over."
Jean didn't ask how she knew that, she just took the pills and
popped them in her mouth. She drained the glass quickly and handed
it back. Morgan ran a hand across Jean's dust blonde hair, slowly
unraveling the work the hairdresser had spent hours working on earlier
that day. Jean had always kept it long, and now that Morgan had
freed it, it fell in slightly wave tresses from her head all the
way to her butt. Morgan was running her hands along it, from the
top of Jean's head all the way to her ass - her palm casually passing
over Jean's bum as she did so. Jean purred into her pillow as sleep
slowly descended upon her.
Just before Morgan left the bed, Jean felt a soft kiss on the
top of her head and heard the girl whisper, "Good night."
The lights went out moments later - Morgan as usual was sleeping
only in her underwear - and Jean fell into a deep slumber soon after.
The room was dark when she opened her eyes; she could see nothing
but the cold hands of night around her. She did not know what had
woken her, only that it had been a shock, a sudden rousing from
slumber. Her heart was beating quickly, and she was breathing a
The bed was shifting around her, she could feel as weight moved
by her side. It took a moment for her to realize someone was kneeing
there. And in that instant, she felt her shorts and panties being
pulled off her feet. She was in a blind panic as she felt her legs
being spread - she was lying on her stomach, just as she had fallen
asleep. The weight shifted to between her legs and she felt something
heavy and hard bounce of her ass cheeks - something long and round
and warm. That's when she first cried out - it was a weak, whimpering
"no". She had wanted to scream it out, but she lacked
"So, you're awake. Good." Jean was shocked. It was Morgan's
voice that spoke from the darkness behind her. "I would have
done it in your sleep, but it's more fun if you're awake."
Jean was confused - probably still dreaming, too. She didn't understand
at all what was happening. She felt soft fingers prying her ass-cheeks
apart, though, and it felt real. One finger slid in and up through
the crack of her butt, pausing at the puckered entrance to her anus.
The finger was gone, and then back again, this time covered in wetness
and spreading it around. Then there was something there, pressing
into her ass, something thick and blunted. The weight shifted behind
her again, and suddenly it was all pressing into her ass, all the
weight and force and she had no strength to stop it.
With a pain-filled grunt, Jean's rear opened to the intruder,
allowing it entrance to her virgin rear. It slid in easily enough,
and her anus stretched to accommodate the large visiter. It slid
in slowly but continuously for what seemed like minutes, slithering
deeper inside of her until it was surely in her stomach somewhere,
or higher still. She could feel it probing the deepness of her body,
and while her sphincter stung a bit, burned a little, and clutched
hard against the odd penetration, it was also in some way comfortable
and pleasant. When the shaft finally ended its entrance she was
a little disappointed. And when it slowly began to vacate her, she
moaned in despair, upset by the impending loss.
Jean's world was spinning and blurring in the darkness. She could
barely keep a though in her head. She must have slept for a while,
at least, but she felt much more drunk than she had all night.
The phallus pulled out more and more, until the end was just about
to exit her anus, and then, with a grunt for Morgan, it rammed back
in, filling the void of her rectum. Jean knew that she should fight,
but she couldn't - every bit of her body was just too heavy to move.
She wanted to scream out, but the only sound her lips would let
slip were grunts and groans that sounded of pleasure. She should
feel violated, abused, and somewhere deep down, she did, but she
just could not bring those feelings into focus enough to be outraged
and angry. She was just lying there, letting it happen, with no
control over her own body.
Morgan continued to pump away, thrusting with her thighs, using
all of her strength and weight to fuck Jean hard. Her strokes mounted,
coming harder and faster, thrusting deeper and heavier. Morgan was
groaning in lust, fucking away.
Jean was stirring from her indifference; her drousy haze starting
to lift. Her mind was becoming clearer and the pain in her rear
was slowly intruding upon her senses - as was the fire in her groin.
God, she was turned on! She had the uncontrollable urge to shove
her hand down and start fingering her clit, but her arms were still
heavy and she couldn't move enough to satisfy her desire. Her grunts
were still coming with each of Morgan's thrusts, but they no longer
sounded like porn moans, and now were groans of discomfort and pain.
"What - what are you doing?" Jean hisses, her voice
"Coming around a bit?" Morgan laughed. We pounded away,
never breaking her stride as she spoke. Her voice was cruel and
cold. "The pills must be wearing off. Good. I'm establishing
dominance, bitch," Morgan hissed, pulling Jean's head from
the pillow by her hair. "This is my house, my room, my family,
and don't you forget it." She dropped Jean's head. "You're
lucky, I decided to be nice this time. I used one of my smaller
strap-ons and even lubed it up a bit for you. Next time, I might
not be so nice."
Jean shuddered at the thought of a next time. She was horny as
hell, there was no denying that, but she felt dirty and used now,
like some cheep piece of meet - or worse. She was scared - Morgan
seemed vicious and savage, and now they would be alone for some
ten days! Not that she could have told anyone anyway - who would
believe her that her step-sister raped her up the ass with a strap-on
in the middle of the night. She couldn't help it - she sobbed.
"Yes! That's my little bitch! Broken already, huh? Good.
At least you've learned whose in charge!"
Jean cried her pain and fear and frustration into her pillow.
She wasn't even conscious that her hand was moving until she felt
her own fingers caressing her clit, trying to satisfy the strange
lust in her loins. Morgan must have felt what she was doing, cause
she laughed again. "Like mother like daughter! God, you sluts
love in up your ass."
Jean was confused by those words, but she didn't say anything,
Morgan elaborated for her. "Did you know that? My father fucks
your mother up the ass? At first, she didn't like it much, but now
she begs for it every night. Every night! Hell, I don't even know
if she can orgasm without having something shoved up her tight little
Jean was confused. How would Morgan know that? Was she lying?
Trying to make Jean feel even worse? At this point, Jean didn't
know, didn't even care. She couldn't. She just could even think
Morgan fucked her for a long time, pounding away at her tight
hole. Jean tried to get herself off, but the more she rubbed, the
hotter she got, the more she crazed relief, but she just could not
get it. Her ass was sore, so very sore, but Morgan fucked her harder.
Morgan was panting hard from the effort, and the sweat poured from
her body and dripped down onto Jean's back and naked ass. It must
have been a hour, maybe more, before the sodomy was over and Morgan
pulled the strap-on free.
Jean's head was lifted from the pillow again, and Morgan sat down
at the head of the bed, then lowers Jean's face back down, leveling
Jean's mouth even with her cunt. Jean did not need to be told; she
latched her mouth onto the proffered pussy and licked and sucked
as best she could. She had never gone down on a girl before - it
would have been a pleasant experience had the circumstances been
different - but she had had a few boys go down on her, and she knew
what felt good. She did her best to replicate those things now.
Morgan seemed to like it; she kept a hand on the back of Jean's
head, grinding the girl's face deep into her pussy. Her hips humped
up and down on Jean's mouth, using the poor girl's face to get off.
Her moans mounted to sharp cires, that peeked into one long, loud
shout of absolute pleasure. She humped Jean's face hard and fast
as she cried out in climax, her body freezing up rigid as her voice
reached a crescendo.
Morgan sat there getting her breath back for only a few moments
before climbing off Jean's bed and into her own. Jean, shocked by
what had happened, did not move; she just laid there, her fingers
still working madly at her cunt, seeking some sort of relief. She
was quite embarrassed to be masturbating with Morgan in the room
- not only because someone else was there, but that last thing she
wanted was for Morgan to think that she had liked the whole experience.
She was hoping Morgan did not notice, but that hope was dashed
and her mortification complete when Morgan shouted at her, "Jesus
Christ, you fucking slut! You're keeping me awake with all that
sloshing! Leave your fucking pussy alone and go to sleep."
Flushed bright red in absolute humiliation, Jean removed her hand
and tried to sleep. It must have taken hours before the discomfort
in her crotch eased enough to let her sleep again - the faint light
of day was just peaking over the horizon when she finally managed
to fall into slumber. She had been to scared of the repercussions
to try to get herself off in all that time.
* * * *
Jean woke with a head-ache, a painfully sore ass, and an throbbing
clit. She knew the previous night had been no dream. She was all
to aware of the reality of it. She looked over at the bed next to
hers, but Morgan was not in it. Of that she was glad. She looked
at the clock - it was after noon already, which did not surprise
her considering how long it had taken her to fall asleep.
She rolled onto her back and recalled the previous evening. Morgan
must be crazy or deranged or something. She was always so kind and
so sweet, and then to attack her like that. What if she did it again
tonight? Jean didn't want to spend the day in the house with that
girl, let alone share a room with her at night.
That's when Morgan walked into the room. She was wearing a sexy
red little night gown that barely reached down past her crotch.
When the breeze from her walking caught it, her perfectly bare pussy
was clearly on display. She had a smug smile of satisfaction on
her face, which seemed to grow even more potent when she saw the
look of fear in Jean's face when their eyes met. And then the look
turned to one of anger.
"You slut! You just can't keep you hands off you pussy, can
Jean was confused at first - she hadn't even know she had been
idly caressing her slit while lying in bed.
"What do I have to do? Tie you up? Give you a spanking?"
Morgan was on her then, lifting Jean up by the hair once more and
then tossing her back to the bed. Morgan was so much stronger and
imposing; Jean barely got her hands up to defend herself, and Morgan
had already thrown her down and smacked her across the face. "Fine!
You want it that way, you got it."
Despite the struggling, it seemed to take little effort on her
part for Morgan to get Jean over her knees like a little child.
She cracked down hard with one hand, landing a solid blow across
Jean's ass. And then another, and another. Jean was yelping with
pain as each smack cracked across her cheeks. They were red and
glowing in not time, heat radiating from her skin like a furnace.
Jean was weeping like a little child from the onslaught; her body
had gone limp soon after the first few spanks, and now she just
hung there, taking the abuse.
Jean wasn't even aware of it when Morgan moved out from under her
- she might have tried to escape if she had been. But as it was,
she did not realize what was going on until Morgan already had her
mostly trussed up. It was thick, rough rope - struggle against it
only rubbed her skin raw, and made Morgan tighten the bonds she
was working one, so Jean held still, letting her step-sister finish
She was tied up on her knees. Each ankle was bound to a bed post,
keeping her legs pulled apart, her pussy and ass exposed to the
foot of the bed. Her arms were tied behind her back, bound to her
neck. If she relaxed her arms completely, their weight tightened
a noose, choking her until she lifted the weight again. Her neck
was also bound to the head board, the base of the headboard, keeping
her body hunched over.
Morgan stepped back and looked at her handy work. "That should
do quite nicely." She dug through her closet, retrieving a
flat wooden paddle. She raised the paddle above her head and brought
it down hard on Jean's ass. Jean croaked when she tried to scream
- the ropes were too tight for any other sound than that. Morgan
laughed and smacked her again and again. Jean's ass had been pained
before, and this hurt more than anything she had ever known! And
Morgan kept swatting her until her bright red ass was darkening
to a deep purple.
"If I had time, I'd give you a caning, too, but I need to
meet some people at the mall. I guess we'll just continue this later."
Morgan quickly dressed in her skimpy little underwear, a sexy mid-drift,
and some low-riding jeans. She looked stunning in them. She disappeared
into her closet again and returned with butt plug - not an overly
large one, but large enough to hurt someone. She slipped the whole
thing easy into Jean's juice cunt - Jean, herself, was amazed by
the ease of the entrance, and she panted with pleasure she had not
expected to feel from the sudden intrusion of the toy into her pussy.
She wished Morgan would fuck her with it, at least a little, to
give her some relief. But it was not to be - Morgan pulled it right
back out and shoved it up into Jean's ass with one quick push. Even
lubricated with her cunt juice, the sudden penetration into her
abused anus was quite painful, and Jean screeched out and began
"Now you be a good little girl and wait here for you sister
to get back. If you are good, maybe I'll let you out." And
then Morgan was gone.
Jean, still having no idea just what she was into now, had thought
Morgan was going to untie her before she left. She thought her leaving
the room had been a joke. But then she heard the front door close.
And lock. And then the car started. And drove away. She was all
alone, tied up like a kidnap victim in her own home, in her own
room, on her own bed.
But it wasn't her room, it was Morgan's. She wasn't in her own
home, it was Morgan's home. She was hungry and lonely and scared.
She couldn't do anything, could move, and struggling against the
ropes only cut and rubbed her skin raw. She even tried to evict
the plug from her ass, but it was no good. As much as it hurt having
it prying her sphincter apart, it was too big for her to force out.
She could do nothing but hold herself as still as possible and cry.
But she could only cry so long before her tears dried up and her
chest hurt and her eyes burned. And still she waited, alone, totally
alone. And what was she waiting for? For Morgan to come home and
abuse her some more. That's all there was to it. Morgan would torture
her and hurt her; Morgan seemed to enjoy it. And there was nothing
Jean could do to stop her. Not until her mom came home. But what
could her mom do? What would her mom do? Would she believe her?
How could she?
Thoughts and despair swam through Jean's mind, and she realized
she could do nothing. She cried again for a time, and once her tears
were gone, so was her will. She could not fight Morgan, she would
never have anyone to protect her from her step-sister. She was lost
now, a thing, a toy for Morgan's amusement. Her cunt throbbed and
ached for attention, her body needed to stretch, her legs were asleep,
and her ass, all of her ass from the flesh of her cheeks to her
ravaged sphincter, were in agony. She was hungry, getting cold,
and she had to piss so bad. So bad that, an hour after the sensation
became urgent, she could hold it not longer, and despite her best
efforts, her piss sprayed from her cunt, splattering her legs and
soaking her sheets beneath her.
And though the pressure was gone from her bladder, the sheets were
wet, which was uncomfortable, then they got cold, which was worse,
and the room stunk of her urine.
When Morgan returned an hour later - having left Jean tied up for
nearly six hours - Jean was a broken girl.
Morgan strolled into the room, shopping bags in hand. She had a
gleeful smile and a pleasant look on her face until the odor hit
her. "You bitch! Here I was ready to release you, thinking
you could behave like a normal girl, and you've gone and pissed
on your bed!"
Jean cringed at the rage in Morgan's voice. She had no fight left
in her to resist her step-sister's punishment, but she feared it
all the same. Feared it greatly.
Morgan quickly unlashed Jean from the bed, untying her ankles and
neck from the footboard and headboard, but she did not untie Jean's
hands nor unbind them from the noose about her neck. Morgan yanked
Jean off the bed, onto her feet. Her legs, cramped and numb from
lack of blood could not support her, though, and Jean tumbled to
the floor, landing on the ground with a heavy thud.
Morgan grabbed her by the rope that bound her hands and lifted
her from her ass and tossed Jean towards the bed. The girl could
not get her balance and she fell forward, smacking her knees hard
on the floor. Her chest landed on the mattress, knocking the air
from her lungs and stunning her a bit. Her world was spinning for
a few moments, and then Morgan's hand was on the back on her head,
pushing her face down into ht sheets.
"Suck it up," Morgan ordered. "If you are going
to piss on your sheets, at least clean them!"
Jean latched her mouth on the cold wet cloth and sucked the acidic
fluid from the fabric. It tasted horrid, vile, but she sucked the
moisture and flavor from the sheets and then moved on to another
spot and another. A couple small puddles still sat on the cloth,
and Morgan made her suck these up too.
She was still going about her cleansing when she felt Morgan's
fingers clawing across her ass. She wanted to scream, but she held
it in, keeping her mouth set on the task assigned to it. Morgan
just dug deeper with her nails, slashed harder, pulled longer. Then
her fingers reached between Jean's marked up ass cheeks and yanked
the thick plug from her bottom. That made Jean howl in pain, and
her cry was met with a sharp spank.
And she felt something else probing her anus. Much like the night
before, it was a strap-on. Jean did not know when Morgan had stripped
or when she had procured the toy, but she glanced behind her to
see her beautiful, radiant step-sister jacking her hand across a
massive bloated cock that jutted from her loins - jacking the cock
and stroking the head up and down between the abused mounds of her
ass. It was larger than the tool she had taken last night, maybe
even larger that the thickest part of the butt plug that had just
been some rudely removed from her sphincter - Jean could not tell.
All she could see was Morgan's lovely face contoured with lust and
desire as she eyed up Jean's ass.
Jean wanted to cry out for her to stop, but she knew it would do
no good. She knew Morgan would do whatever she pleased. Jean knew
she could never stop her step-sister from hurting her. She accepted
that. She lowered her face back to the piss-soaked sheets and raised
her ass up in an offering to beautiful, perfect Morgan.
And Morgan took it. She had not been kidding about being kind the
night before - she used no lube now and thrust the monstrous phallus
deep inside. She wanted to bury it in one stroke, but it would go
in so easily. She took it in her hands and stabbed it forward, working
it in, deeper, feeding and forcing it down into the cavity beyond.
Jean cried into the bed, but thrust her weight back, trying to held
the beast enter her. She could not fight it, and it only hurt her
more to resist, so she tried to aid it. She tried, but it still
hurt like bloody hell.
She must have passed out: one moment Morgan was forcing the giant
shaft up her tight hole, and the next, she was pumping away in rhythm,
pulling the monstrously large thing out completely and launching
it back forward until the head struck hard into Jean's colon. Each
thrust slammed Jean's body forward, banging her tits painfully into
Jean soundlessly returned to sucking the sheets. Her ass was raw
and hurt deep inside, but she humped back against Morgan, moving
her body in time with her step-sister.
Even after he awareness returned, it was over an hour that Morgan
fucked away, once more working herself up into a sweat and puffing
and panting like she had run a few miles. Jean, too, was coated
with sweat and heaving breaths, gasping for air. Every pull out
was painful, every thrust in was agony. Her tits were sore and bruised
from countless collisions with the mattress.
Morgan laughed. "The best part about a strap-on - unlike
a guy, I came fuck all day long!" She proved her point by continuing
for another twenty minutes or so before pulling out of Jean's ass.
She got to her feet and stood behind Jean, admiring her work. "That's
not going to close up for a few days!" She laughed and spit
a wad onto Jean's ass. She missed her target and so spit again -
this time the wad hit right in Jean'scrack and slid down into the
gaping cavern on her ass.
Jean had thought her humiliation and abuse would be done for now
- after all the sun had set and she figured Morgan would be exhausted
from all the vigorous activity. She was. Her body was sore and achy
all over. She wanted to eat and shower and relax and stretch and
But Morgan was not done. If she had been mollified before, she
was now set off again, and this time her words were fierce. "You
fucking bitch! You horrible, dirty slut!" She grabbed Jean
by the hair and spun her around and tossed her onto the ground on
her ass. Jean looked up at the rage on Morgan's race and cringed.
She whimpered and tried to shrink away, but Morgan would have none
of it. Once more she grabbed a fist-full of hair and hoisted Jean's
head, pulling her up in line with the strap-on. With a quick twist
of her hips, Morgan slapped Jean across the face with the heavy,
thick shaft. It stung, but worse was the bitter scent of ass it
left lingering around her nose.
"Look at it!' Morgan demanded, dangling the thing before her
step-sister's eyes. "Look at it! Look how filthy you made it!"
Sure enough, the strap-on was streaked with smudges of brown, thick
patches in some places, chucks of mucky ass dirt. Of Jean's shit.
She could smell it, the heavy sent, and Morgan thrust the thing
at her, poking her face with the head, which was speckled with wet
patches that painted her skin when it touched her.
"Smell it! Smell what you did to my lovely cock!" When
Jean did not immediately take a big whiff, Morgan's fist tightened
about her hair. Jean responded quickly then, sniffing long and deep
several times, making sure to trace her nose across the whole foul
"Well? What are you going to do about it?"
Jean looked up at Morgan, confused. She wanted to say, look you
fucked my ass with it, what do you expect, but she caught herself
before such insolence could escape her lips. Instead, all she did
was stare up with a dumb, blank expression, her mouth hanging open
with no words, not knowing what to say, what Morgan wanted to her.
But Morgan had all the answer she needed. She smiled, a wicked
little grin, and said, "Very good. I am accept." Before
Jean could even guess what Morgan meant, Morgan plundged the filthy
cock deep into her mouth.
She gagged on it. Nothing so big had every been in her mouth before,
nothing had ever so roughly stabbed past her jaw and forced itself
down her throat. She gagged and retched, and Morgan laughed as she
then began to fuck Jean's mouth with the same harsh merciless rhythm
she has used on her ass.
Jean, for her part, did her best not to vomit as the fake cock
invaded her throat. The taste was horrid, the bitter earthy taste
of old coffee and dirt. It took some control to not vomit from that,
either, but she managed. She gagged a lot, and Morgan, still holding
her long hair in a tight fist, would laugh and jab harder into her
mouth - Jean was convinced Morgan wanted her to puke - probably
so she could make her clean than up too.
Morgan, at last, withdrew and inspected her cock. She pointed to
a large speck of shit that remained and glared at Jean. The girl,
not knowing what else to do, lowered her mouth to the spot and sucked
it away. Morgan pointed to another spot, and Jean licked at it a
few times until it was gone. They repeated this for a few moments,
then Morgan was satisfied and removed the strap-on. Jean obediently
stayed on her knees, and when Morgan lifted her leg and placed her
foot on the mattress, Jean leapt forward, burying her face into
Morgan's shaved cunt and licking away at Morgan's sopping clit.
"You learn quickly," Morgan purred. "Good. You are
pleasing me now. Very good." It did not take long before Morgan
came, her hand crushing Jean's face so hard into her cunt that it
hurt Jean's jaw, but compared to the rest of the pains in her body,
this was mild and barely noticeable.
"Ah, good girl." Morgan patted Jean's head, and the abused
little bitch found herself relishing that gentle touch. It warmed
her heart to hear kind words, and she pressed her face into Morgan's
hand like a love-starved puppy. "You have learned well today.
I'm pleased with your progress."
Then Morgan leaned down and kissed Jean on the forward. Jean's
knees went weak, and she nearly crumbled to the floor in a swoon.
Her cunt, still on fire from the night before, never having been
attended to, quivered and flooded with juices, a small orgasms rippling
through her body from the tender token of affection. Jean could
not understand the amazing power of that little kiss, but she wanted
more of it - she had never felt so wonderful or fulfilled in her
entire life. A remarkable feeling of accomplishment flooded her
being and made her beam with joy.
The affect did not go unnoticed by Morgan, who smiled happily down
at Jean, her perfect face radiant and lovely. "You are going
to go make us dinner, now, and if I like it, I may be please enough
to let you cum." Morgan's hand caressed Jean's face. "I
make even touch your pussy myself - I may make you cum. Wouldn't
that be lovely?"
Jean nodded enthusiastically. Morgan gave her a fleeting kiss on
the lips then, and once more a quick quake shook her body as another
slight orgasm rolled through her. She leapt to her feet and scanned
the floor, look for her cloths. Morgan giggled - a soft, sweet sound
Jean had become so used to in the past months since they met - it
was like music to her ears. Morgan was pacified and wonderful again
- Jean knew she would do her best to keep Morgan pleased, to keep
this Morgan around more. "You don't need cloths, silly. In
fact, you will not wear clothing when it is just the two of us in
Jean grinned and nodded. She turned to rush out of the room towards
the kitchen, and Morgan gave her a soft pat on the bottom as she
breezed by. It stung like hell, but Jean's cunt throbbed again,
and she moaned at the pleasure and pain that surged through her.
She quickened her pace, trying to think of what to make for dinner
that would pleasure her mistress enough so that Morgan would make
And Morgan watched Jean go - watched the spring in her step and
the joy in her eyes. She had recognized the lust with which Jean
had always stared at her. She had seen the submissive nature, the
inferiority that gnawed at Jean's self-esteem. It had infuriated
her from the first time they met. She had wanted to smack her, beat
her, rape her - she wanted to give her something to feel submissive
and inferior about.
It had been a risky gambit to rape and abuse her step-sister like
that, but well worth the risks, especially since it had worked out.
It wouldn't have done at all for the two on them to live together
like that, Jean desiring her and yet feeling wretched in her presence,
and her always wanting to smack her for seeming so weak and pathetic.
Now they could both have exactly what they wanted and be happy.
She just wondered how far she could push her little slave until
she broke her completely - how far would little Jean go to please
her. It made Morgan's cunt hot just thinking about it and her hand
immediately reached down between her legs and stroked at the wet
folds of her pussy.
This was going to be the best week ever.