Grimacing, Antoinette crawled over to the recliner and lowered her face to the seat of the black leather, licking at her previous excretions.
“Don’t stop, tramp,” Cynthia said. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get a treat when you’re done.”
Antoinette increased her exertions. Smiling at my stepsister’s fervor, I walked into the kitchen. I frowned, noticing the torn paper still on the floor and table; I picked it up and threw it in the garbage can under the sink.
“Any ideas for dinner?” Cynthia asked, stepping into the kitchen behind me.
“None,” I said, shaking my head.
“Well, we had lunch out, so we’re not going to eat out or order in,” she said, matter-of-factly as she opened up cabinets. “How about spaghetti? We have plenty of sauce.”
“Nah.”
Frowning, Cynthia turned to the fridge and opened the door. Rummaging among the shelves in the chill air, she asked, “We have leftover meatloaf from last night, some lasagna from two nights ago, some stew… that needs to be thrown out.”
With a huff, Cynthia closed the fridge. Turning towards me, she said, “You’ve made dinner for years for us. We need to return the favor.”
“Works for me,” I grinned. “Say, is that because of the fridge or from the show earlier?”
Cynthia raised an eyebrow. I pointed. She looked down and saw her stiff nipples through her light green cami.
“Maybe you’ll find out later,” my stepsister blushed, sweetly smiling at me.
“Well,” I chuckled. “Looks like someone’s already chosen my desert.”
“Oh, you,” Cynthia chuckled.
Suddenly, we heard the front door slam shut.
“It reeks of…” I heard Cynthia’s mother say loudly. “Oh my god! Brigitte, are you okay? Antoinette, what are you doing?”
I heard the murmur of Antoinette’s voice. A few seconds later, my stepmother stormed into the kitchen, her face red with rage.
“What the hell is going on around here?” she screamed. “Brigitte’s passed out on the sofa, Antoinette’s licking the recliner, and it looks like both of them have been raped!”
“Calm down, bitch,” I said, sitting down by the kitchen table. “Everything’s fine and I can assure you, completely consensual.”
“You bastard!” she seethed. “How could you? After all these years that I’ve taken care of you! I want you out! NOW!”
“Apparently, you have forgotten our conversation this morning,” I said. Cynthia glanced at me. “Did you forget everything?” Cynthia’s mother paled.
“N, no,” she said softly. “I, I’ve been masturbating all day because of you. I had to buy extra panties on lunch; I’ve gone through three pair. I, I’m really h, horny right now. M, maybe you could stay if…”
“And after work?” I asked, ignoring her suggestion.
“I stepped by a pet store,” the bitch gulped.
“I don’t see what you bought.”
“The, they’re still in the car.”
“Well, then,” I smiled. “You need to bring them in.”
My stepmother nodded and stepped towards the front door.
“But not like that,” I said, stopping her in her tracks. “You need to change first.”
“I, into w, what?” she stammered.
“Do you have any babydolls?”
“Only one,” the bitch answered softly. “It’s pale white, almost see-through, and… a size too small.”
“That’ll work,” I grinned. “Get it on and bring in your purchases.” I thought for a moment. “And so you don’t take your time, you’ll feel a compulsion to put the dog collar on. The longer you take, the more intense the compulsion.”
Her brown eyes grew wide with fear. With a squeak, she sprinted out of the kitchen to what was her bedroom.
“What was that about?” Cynthia said, finally speaking up.
“Nothing much,” I smiled. “Just your mother’s punishment.”
“Is that all you’re doing to her?”
“Nope,” I said. “She has a lot to make up for.”
“And having my mother walking around half-naked is going to help?” Cynthia said cynically. “Won’t that just make you… horny?”
“Not half-naked,” I said. “In the house, she will be naked. Outside, she’ll dress slutty. As for my horniess, I have Antoinette, Brigitte and you. Perhaps a few others later.”
“So who gets to screw my mother?”
“I can think of a few friends who’d like to pork her.” Cynthia looked at me in shock.
“How can you do that to her?” she said. “She is my mother; she gave birth to me!”
“According to her, I’ve just been a dead weight for her to abuse and boss around. I’ve had enough and I want my revenge.”
“Please,” Cynthia pleaded, small tears falling from her sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t let anyone pork her. Do something else, but don’t let her get screwed by someone she doesn’t know.”
“That’s why it would be humiliating. Besides, I’ll make sure no stories will circulate. Any guy who fucks your mother will keep their lips zipped. Even if there’s a gangbang, the guys involved wouldn’t even talk to each other about what happened.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” she said crossly.
“Don’t worry,” I said soothingly. “It’ll be by invitation only. No one will talk it.”
“Well,” Cynthia said, her anger dissipating. “So long as it is discreet.”
She sat down on my lap, snuggling into my chest.
“If I wanted, could I choose people to p, pork her?” she giggled.
“Sure,” I said, stroking her golden locks. “But I make the final approval and the call, okay?”
“Yeah,” she smiled. “Maybe we could find her a husband.”
“There’s an idea,” I mused. “Have her marry an old rich bastard with no kids, have him will the money to her, and then he has a heart attack a couple months later.”
“No!” Cynthia blurted in shock. “That’s not nice! You wouldn’t do that, would you?”
“I guess not,” I smiled down at my stepsister. She snuggled closer into my chest, a small smile on her face.
“What’s a gangbang?” she asked softly. I laughed.
“What’s going on?” I looked over and saw Brigitte striding into the kitchen, her hair askew from our previous romp.
“Not much,” I said to her, watching as she straightened her brown hair.
Suddenly, my stepmother flew through the kitchen to the front door, her hair flowing behind her, quickly followed by the slam of the front door.
“What the?” Brigitte gasped. “Did mom just run outside naked?”
“Guess so,” I smiled. “Looks like she couldn’t find that babydoll she was looking for.”
“That old thing?” Brigitte said, paling.
“Where is it, Brigitte?”
“Back at school,” she gulped. “I borrowed it for a sorority party and forgot to return it. Man, I hope she doesn’t flip out.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “She’s… a lot calmer now.”
Outside, there were several loud honks followed by the slamming of the front door.
“Anyway,” Brigitte said. “What’s for dinner?”
“We’re trying to decide,” Cynthia said. “Something has to be cooked and Sam’s not going to do it.”
“How about mom?” Brigitte offered.
“What about mom?” my stepmother panted as she stepped into the kitchen.
“You used to cook, didn’t you?” Brigitte said. “Before Samuel was old enough, right?”
Her mother nodded, a grim look on her face.
“Why don’t you make something for dinner?” I asked.
“How about grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup?” Brigitte said. “It’s been a while so something simple shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Okay,” she nodded glumly, looking at me. “Could I put something on? I couldn’t find that babydoll.”
“Sure,” I said, glad that my stepmother was beginning to learn her place. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on her after all. “Put something comfortable on and let us know when dinner’s ready.”
Candi nodded and headed upstairs.
“I don’t know about you two,” I said, sliding Cynthia off my lap. “But I need a shower. Why don’t you two and Antoinette clean up as well.” I walked over to the stairs and looked back over my shoulder.
“And someone needs to air out the family room, we can’t leave it reeking of our afternoon activities.” |