Forced Lesbian Stepsister

WARNING! The first half of this story has very objectional language towards homosexuals. This is to build the main character. Her language and opinion WILL offend you. I felt it was necessary to create her character in order to lead to her downfall. I believe that I have created a somewhat misguided justification for her outlook, but she does get her comeuppance in the end.

Keep in mind that this is a work of FICTION. All persons in this story are solely figments of my warped imagination, as are all events and situations portrayed herein.

I self-edit, so all mistakes are mine. Only bother commenting on my need for an editor if you are a moron.

'Well Missy, this is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into.' I thought to myself. Missy. That's me. It's short for Melisandre. Melisandre Adams. The predicament I am referring to is my current position. I am lying on my bed completely naked. Well, except for a couple of minor things. There are the ropes. The ropes are tying my wrists to my ankles and my elbows to my legs. There is also a rope from one wrist, under the bed, and to my other wrist. This is keeping my legs spread wide apart. Then there is the butt plug lodged in my ass. It's big. I've never had anything in my ass before. I also have a thick leather collar around my neck. Oh, and let's not forget the nipple clamps. As an added bonus (that was sarcasm), there are chains running tightly from the nipple clamps to the ring on front of the collar. The chains are tight enough to pull my 38D tits upwards. They pull tighter and cause more pain every time my tits are jostled. I have a very bad feeling that, judging from the giggles and footsteps drawing closer to the door, my tits are about to be jostled quite a bit soon. Lastly, in case you were wondering why I wasn't talking, I had a weird dildo gag bucked around my head. I was told that there was something unique about the gag, and I would discover what that was later. The gag has a two-inch-long plug that is inside my mouth, and a six-inch dildo sticking out. So much for my attire. My dread at my predicament also had to do with the numerous toys splayed out on the bed. There were half a dozen strap-on dildos of various sizes, as well as a couple riding crops, floggers, and whips. I had a REALLY bad feeling about all this.

So, how did I come to be in this predicament? It was because of my hated stepsister. I was the only child of a very happy and loving couple. My dad was a really nice man, and he made enough money where we wanted for nothing. Mom was a stay-at-home mom and seemed to really love my dad. While I did love my mom, I was a daddy's girl through and through. Everything was awesome -- until I was 16-years old. I really don't know why, but mom changed. Maybe it was just boredom and too much free time, because I was old enough to pretty much take care of myself and didn't really need her taking care of me much anymore. Perhaps it was some new friends that she got to fill her time with. Who knows? All I know is that she turned my happy world upside down.

Daddy was served divorce papers. I knew that things had been a little tense for the previous six months. Still, I was surprised. I finally got the story when they sat me down at the table to explain what was happening. Dad was at the head of the table. Mom sat at the other end. Across from me was my mom's new lover. I was shocked, to say the least. Mom had been cheating on daddy. I hated her. Oh, they all tried to be reasonable with me. All three of them had discussed it earlier and decided to be civil for my benefit. The problem with that plan was that I wasn't going to go along with that shit. They could try to be as civil to me all they wanted. I loved my daddy, and I would do anything for him. I saw plainly that my mother was the one who was breaking up our happy home. Her and her lover. That shit won't fly. I hated them as soon as mom introduced me to her GIRLFRIEND and explained that she was divorcing daddy so she could move in with HER.

That was the very beginning. I never really cared that much about homosexuality before. It never bothered me one way or the other. I knew I wasn't gay, but I really didn't care if anyone else was. I did now. My mom becoming a lesbian had just destroyed my world and made my daddy sad. Mom tried to explain, but I wanted nothing to do with it. Her girlfriend tried to talk, but I just screamed at her. Daddy tried to calm me down, but I just couldn't stop. It was at that moment that I began to hate lesbians. It was because of them that this was happening to me. If it hadn't been for that demented dyke, my family wouldn't have been ripped apart. I blamed the bitch for turning my mom away from my daddy. I blamed mom for turning into a lesbian. I blamed homosexuality in general for ruining my life. This wasn't about fear, it was about what they did. Let's just say that things did not go well after that. It got really ugly before I stormed off to my room, and mom left the house in tears.

From that point on, I became a crusader against homosexuality. I would join in and be one of the most vocal protesters at every homosexual event I could get to. They tried to portray me as a homophobic. I laughed at them. There was absolutely nothing homophobic about me. It had nothing to do with fear. It was just plain hatred at what it had done to me. Confused? Let me explain. Homo -- meaning similar or the same. Phobia -- an irrational fear. Homophobia means an irrational fear of the same. First off, that term has absolutely nothing to do with sex or sexuality. Second, even if the prefix is considered as referencing homosexuality, fear has nothing to do with it. President Bush famously stated that he doesn't like broccoli. Does that mean that he is actually afraid of it? There are a lot of people who don't like ballet. Are they all afraid of it? Millions of people do not like football. Is that because they are all afraid of it? No! hatred is not always based upon fear. There are lots of reasons for people to hate things. Personally, I find Baseball extremely boring. I don't like it, but there is no fear of it. While there may be some people whose hatred of homosexuality is based upon fear, most aren't. Generalizing all who are against homosexuality as being homophobic only goes to show how misinformed and ignorant homosexuals are.

Life moved on. Dad did try to get me to have some sort of relationship with mom, but I adamantly refused. She tried calling, but I refused to answer and erased the massages without listening. She tried texting, but I just erased those as well. When she would show up to one of my events, I completely ignored her. I didn't care if it made her cry; she did it to herself.

Dad began to date again after I turned 18. I was really happy for him. I met a couple of the more serious ones, and I even approved of some. There seemed to be one in particular that he really liked. Her name was Amy. She was two years younger than dad, and they seemed to get along really well. She even spent the night a few times. She was also divorced and had two kids. There was a girl a year older than me in college, and a boy my age. It was six months before I met either of her kids. Her son was kind of cute in a nerdy way, but I refused to go there. I was so not going to do anything to screw up my dad's relationship. Her daughter was still away at school, so I didn't meet her until much later.

I had just graduated from high school. As it turned out, I had been accepted to the same college that Amy's daughter was attending. It was at my graduation party that I first met Liz, Amy's daughter. She had just come home for the summer, and she had obviously been invited to my party. Dad and Amy had gotten pretty serious. I knew that dad had already bought a ring, and he was just waiting for the right time to propose. I was good with that. The only real issue that I had with Amy was that she would get a funny look and try to tone down some of my rants against homosexuality. It wasn't really anything major, so I just let it go. I figured that it wasn't anything big enough to cause a rift in my dad's relationship.

I have to admit, Liz and I didn't hit it off very well. Oh, she was polite and nice, but there was just something off with her. I was in a great mood, so I really didn't pay a whole lot of attention to it, though. I was surrounded by several of my friends and family. Brandon, Amy's son, was also celebrating his graduation as well, so a lot of their family and friends also attended. It was a great party. Dad had hired a company to do a barbeque dinner. He even let me have a couple glasses of champagne that evening to celebrate. Liz did congratulate me and converse with me for a few minutes, but she pretty much kept to her family and friends throughout the party. The only real downer to the day was when my mom and her dyke lover showed up to the party. I really don't know why daddy even invited them. I ignored them and they didn't stay very long. Looking back, I probably should have recognized the look on Liz's face when she overheard me telling a couple of my friends about the perverted dyke that broke up my parent's marriage.

It was a week after that when Dad proposed to Amy. He had another barbeque at the house, so Brandon and Liz were there as well. We were out on the deck relaxing when dad came out of the house to light the grill. He seemed to be having some trouble with it and was down on his knees looking inside. He asked Amy to help. When she got over to him, he popped his head out from inside the grill, turned and moved so he was on one knee, held out the open ring box in his hand and asked her to marry him. She was stunned. Dad had waited until all the kids were there to witness it. We were all thrilled when she accepted.

So, the summer moved on. I was kind of disappointed that Liz seemed to be somewhat stand-offish to me. She was polite and answered any questions that I had about the college she went to and I would be attending in the fall. She was also polite to me whenever we were together for barbeques or planning her mom's wedding. It was just odd that I was always the one who had to initiate the conversations. While not blatantly avoiding me, she was never the one to initiate any meeting. I had originally thought that she was just shy, but I then noticed how outgoing she was when setting things up with her friends. It was almost like she really didn't want to have anything to do with me, but she was only being polite because of her mom's relationship with my dad. That was ridiculous, though. I was trying to be friendly to her, and I think that I am a nice person.

The Fall Semester started, and I moved into the dorms. That was a requirement for all incoming freshmen, except for those local who lived at home. Liz was living in an off-campus apartment with a couple of her friends, since she was already a sophomore. I must admit that I had a little trouble making friends in the dorms. There was a surprising amount of very liberal girls there who had no problem with gay or bisexuals. Still, I did make a few friends from the more conservative girls there. I would occasionally see Liz around the campus, but she had her own circle of friends and we didn't interact much. I did notice several hostile glares from several of her friends whenever I came up to her and chatted for a few minutes. Liz was always polite, but not overly friendly whenever that happened.

I was doing well in my classes. I found a group of people that I liked and associated with. We would get together at least once a week and look for the LGBTQ events that we could protest. We would also have our own events and tables at campus activities. I was a regular behind those tables telling everyone about the damage that 'deathstyle' created. I explained how homosexuality had destroyed my family. I must admit, I had a really good argument. Whenever one of their sympathizers would try to engage me about how I could be against love, I would retort that it seemed that homosexuality actually destroyed the love between my parents.

OK. Just so you know, I am not a virgin. I have had a few boyfriends, and I have enjoyed sex with them. I don't jump into bed on the first few dates, but I do slowly work up to it. It usually takes until the fifth date before I will go all the way. Having said that, I will tell you that I usually orgasm during sex. I do insist that if they expect me to put my mouth on their cock, they are expected to give a reasonable accounting with their tongue in my pussy. My back door is strictly EXIT ONLY. That's something homosexuals do, not normal people. Yes, I do enjoy sex, but I'm not a pervert.

So. Things began to go sideways that March. There was an LGBTQ event that was held just before Spring Break. Of course, my friends heard about it and had planned a protest against it. As usual, I was front and center for our protest. That's when I saw her. Liz. She was hand-in-hand with one of her roommates that would give me the most hostile glares whenever she saw me. I was actually shocked to see it. Liz was participating in an LGBTQ event! More than that, she was there with another girl! WTF? Her friend must have nudged her after seeing that I was looking at them. Liz glanced over at me, got a big smirk on her face, then turned and planted the mother of all sensuous kisses on her friend. I couldn't help staring. When they broke the kiss, Liz looked right into my eyes and grinned. Then, with a wink and a blown kiss my way, they walked away. Liz was a lesbian? What the hell? She knew what that had done to my family and what I thought about it. How could my future stepsister do this to me?

I didn't have a chance to confront her for a couple of days. Classes were done for us on Thursday, and we traveled home Friday morning. We had separate cars, so we weren't traveling together. Friday night was the rehearsal dinner, and Saturday was the wedding. I knew that she was bringing a date home for the wedding and her date was staying the week, but I had assumed that it was a boy. My current boyfriend was coming for the wedding as my date, but he was leaving right after to meet his friends in Miami for Spring Break. I was planning on staying at Daddy's house while he and Amy were on their honeymoon.

Rehearsal and rehearsal dinner went OK. Liz kept her distance. It became apparent that everyone except me knew that Liz had a girlfriend, and they were OK with it. Liz and her girlfriend were staying at a motel, so I couldn't even confront her after the dinner. The next day was the wedding. There was no way that I was going to make a scene then. I did find time before the ceremony to talk to my daddy, but he just blew me off with a 'you love who you love' speech. I was getting nowhere with this. Again, Liz and her girlfriend kept their distance from me the whole day. After Amy and dad left the reception for their honeymoon, I dropped my boyfriend off at the airport and went home. I stripped off my clothes and fell into bed naked.

"Missy? Are you here?" woke me up late Sunday morning.

"Melisandre! I know you're here. We need to talk." Came Liz's voice.

Fuck! She totally avoids me for two day and wants to talk now? Fuck her. I would tell her what I thought of her when I was ready. Now, I just wanted to get another hour of sleep.

"There you are; you uptight bitch!" I heard as my bedroom door opened.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" I screamed at the intrusion into my room.

"I'm here because I'm sick and tired of the shit that you've been spouting about me and my friends!" Liz replied. "I've had enough of your hatred just because I happen to love women instead of men. I've kept my mouth shut out of respect for my mom and your dad, but I'm done with that now. It's time you grew up and accept that your mom is who she is and isn't the evil person that you believe her to be. We are all alone for a whole week, and I am going to show you what a bigoted, ignorant, bitch you are! Oh, and don't think that Brandon will swoop in and save you. He's pretty disgusted with all that hatred that you've been spouting as well. Yes, my family knows and accepts me for who I am. Even your dad does. Now, this may shock you, but don't you ever wonder why your dad has never said anything negative about your mom? It's because they talked about what happened, and he accepted that she had been gay all her life, but just recently accepted it. The divorce was mutual. They are still friends, but your hatred has made them keep that secret from you."

She attacked suddenly. I tried to fight her, but Bethany ran in to help Liz. I kicked. I screamed. I tried to bite. It didn't work. They had brought a large duffle bag in with them. Bethany pinned me down while Liz retrieved the ropes from their bag. Working smoothly together, they soon had me tied and helpless. Next, they buckled the collar around my neck. I guess my cursing them finally got on their nerves, because the dildo gag went on next.

"Oh, by the way, slut, this gag has a special surprise for you." Bethany taunted me. I had no idea what she meant by that.

My eyes went to the size of dinner plates when Liz pulled out the large butt plug from the duffle bag. I was shaking my head furiously as she began to lube it up. Even though I had never seen one in person, I knew what it was. Oh, Hell NO! Nothing goes in my ass. I tried to protest -- violently -- but it was no use. I was bound tight, and the gag prevented any vocal protests. Bethany grinned evilly as she used two fingers to lube my virgin ass. Damn, that was painful.

"Even though you don't deserve it, I'm going to be gentle putting this in. It's best if you try to relax as much as you can. Don't worry, by the end of the week you will love this." Liz whispered as she moved the anal invader into position.

True to her word, she slowly worked the plug in and out for about five minutes before my ass shrunk back around the base of the plug, sucking it in and securing into place.

"I know that you don't believe me right now, but this will make things easier for you later." Liz whispered as she sank the plug home.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, the nipple clamps came out of the bag. My protests were just as effective for this as they were for the butt plug. Lesbian, bi, straight, it doesn't really matter. When someone that knows what they are doing starts worshiping your tits, your nipples get hard and erect. Go ahead and fight it all you want. It doesn't matter. Look, I'm not stupid. I understood full well that those damn clamps were going on my sensitive nipples when they got hard. Did that make the slightest bit of difference? Not one bit. FUCK! Those bastards hurt. Son-of-a-bitch, did they need to tighten them that much? Apparently, they really didn't want them to fall off. To make matters worse, they pulled the chains attached to the clips, so my tits were pulled up before attaching those chains to the ring on the front of the leather collar I was now wearing. Before they left the room, they took several strap-on dildos, floggers, whips, and riding crops out of the bag and left them on the bed beside me.

"Don't go anywhere now. We've got to go and get ready for our guests." Liz giggled as they walked out the door. This did not bode well for me.

So, here we are, back at the beginning. I'm hogtied, spread wide open, nipple clamped, butt plugged, dildo gaged, collared, and helpless. Worse yet, I can hear my lesbian stepsister leading several of her lesbian friends down the hall towards my room.

Liz walked into the room followed by Bethany and four other girls. They all moved over to stand around my bed and look at me. They were giggling, pointing, and whispering to each other about me and my position. I was totally humiliated at being tied up and spread open while they were all fully dressed.