Step-Bully

As I pack up the last of my stuff, I can't help but take a moment to stare longingly at the husk of what had been my room for most of my life. Posters were ripped from the walls, books emptied off the shelves, the bedframe left empty for its next inhabitant.

My childhood had been here, my teenage years, even my first kiss. But it looks like it's time to leave that all behind now.

I carried my boxes outside and loaded them into the truck. Most of our stuff was going into storage, but our personal bits would at least follow us into our new home. We can't take everything with us though because the house we're moving into is already occupied by Dad's girlfriend and her daughter.

How about a little backstory first?

My name is Jake. I'm a senior in highschool, and as far back as I can remember it's just been me and my dad versus the world. I'm not quite sure what happened to my mom, she dipped before I could gain consciousness enough form a a memory of her. When I ask Dad about her, he's really vague with his answers, usually chalking it up to she simply didn't want a family and left us behind.

So, he's raised me on his own ever since. And he's done a good job with the resources he's had, but it would be nice to have a full family. A mom to cook us dinner, maybe a sibling to wrestle around with and harass, even being forced to take family photos that we groan about but fondly look back on as the pictures line the hallway over the years. It's a little late in the game now with me going off to college next year, but it's at least a fun thought.

Now he's dated on and off throughout my life, but was never able to fall into anything you could consider stable. Dad always tries to laugh it off and say the household is better off with "just us guys" but I think the truth of the matter is he's simply horrible with women. Awkward, barely able to hold a conversation, not up to date with the latest trends and current events. I've seen the look in their eyes when he gets lucky enough to bring one home. It's almost a look of pity as he tries to make jokes and make them comfortable but I'm sure they feel as if they're being held hostage. I almost never saw the same woman twice. Not that I'm any better. That "first kiss" of mine in the bedroom was also my last, but we're not here to talk about that.

And then him having a kid already isn't exactly the cherry on top when they weigh their options. Not a lot of women really want to jump into the role of "stepmom".

That was until recently. Somehow, he found a woman he was head over heels for. From what he said, she was gorgeous, amazing, the absolute love of his life. I chalked it up to just puppy love, happy that someone was giving him the attention he craved and had been deprived of for so long, but weeks eventually turned to months and his love only grew.

I met her a few times, and she honestly wasn't bad. Her name was Jacelyn. She had jet black hair with piercing green eyes that almost seemed cold like that of a reptile, but she sported such a warm smile every time I met her it seemed to counteract it. Her frame was quite slender, but honestly I didn't spend too much time looking at her like that. But I could certainly see the appeal from my dad's eyes. Something about her was oddly familiar though, like I had seen her somewhere before, I just couldn't place my finger on it. Maybe we often went to the same grocery store?

That subtle gleam in her eyes when she got excited was something I swear I knew. I thought maybe it was from knowing her daughter, but she said her name was Sarah, and I can't say I've ever met a girl with that name.

I brushed it off as something similar to déjà vu and never bothered to question it.

The great thing is Jacelyn would come over and cook every once in a while, and her meals always tasted fantastic. She would stock our pantry with seasonings that far exceeded dad's usual onion powder and garlic powder duo he used for his meals to try and get us on a better track, but she was usually the only one to use them.

With every passing date Dad steadily grew happier and happier. He even told me himself he may very well marry this woman, and I had no objections to it. I'd never seen him in such bliss than when he was with her. Everything was going great.

That is until he lost his job.

Dad worked at the local papermill and had been for the past 15 years. It wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but it paid the bills and kept us alive. About a year ago I remember him talking about how great it was that his job was slowly becoming more and more automated. He could finally take a load off and he wasn't as tired after every shift. It seemed so great until one day his job had finally been 100% automated and they laid off everyone they no longer needed. He received a decent severance package, but it was only enough for a couple months' worth of rent, max.

Each week passed, and application after application was kicked back with a denial email. Slowly, he began to spiral downward as he realized we may very well be living out of a car within the next 2 months if something didn't happen soon. I offered to pick up a fastfood job after school or something to help out as much as I could, but Dad simply wouldn't have it, stating I shouldn't burden myself with this as a teen, he'll find a way.

When it seemed like we were at the end of our rope, Jacelyn finally stepped in to provide us with a solution.

"Look, how about you both just move in with us? We have plenty of room, Jake can take over the guest room upstairs until he goes to college, and we've discussed living together anyways. So why not go ahead and tie the knot?"

And now here we are. Moving out of our home we can no longer afford the payments on and putting our lives in someone else's hands. Which I'm not saying is a bad thing. I'm grateful for her and everything she's done for my dad. But it's just such a big change, it's hard to process.

Another thing that's hard to process is I'm technically going to have a sister now. I've never actually met Sarah, but from what I hear she's similar in age. A year older than me, already in college, so she never bothers to accompany her mom when she comes over here. But supposedly she's going to be home this weekend, so I should become at least a little acquainted with her.

We're a little old to become play-pals and fill out the sibling dream I may have had as a kid, but I hope we can at least get along.

I drop the last box of our stuff in the back of the truck and shut the door. This is it. We're on the way to our new home.

Dad walked up beside me and ruffled my hair, noticing that I just couldn't seem to take my eyes off the front door.

"Hey, it's okay bud. You was gonna be out of here leaving your old man behind within the year anyways."

"Yeah, I know...It's just hard. Leaving behind everything you know and the whatnot."

"Yeah, it really is, but it's good to move forward. Wanna know a fun fact? When I was a kid, I actually moved 18 different times. Your grandmother couldn't keep a man to save her life. What did she stop at, six marriages or something along those lines?"

I look at him, astonished. "Really? You're kidding!"

"Nope, that's just how it was. I could pack up my room at any given moment in 20 minutes flat. So, as much as this sucks, I think we did a pretty good job to hit 18 before we even had to move once." I reflect on my dad's words and take solace in them. He's right. It really could be a lot worse, huh?

I held onto those words as I finally tore my eyes away and got into the truck, headed off to our new home.

As we pulled into the driveway, I was honestly astonished to see just how much better off Jacelyn was than us. She had a 2-story house in the suburbs that dwarfed our little edge of the city 1-story townhouse. If I remember correctly, I believe she did something in the software engineering field? Whatever it was, Dad could very well just be a stay-at-home housewife mooching off her income alone, even though I know he could never stand it.

A quick thought of my dad being nothing more than a golddigger popped up before I quickly dismissed it, knowing his pride barely allowed him to accept her offer in the first place. But it's a funny thought.

We backed the truck up to the garage and hopped out to start the unloading process. Jacelyn met us at the door, giving my dad a big kiss as he tried not to topple over the 3 boxes he had stacked up in his arms.

She smiled at him and giggled, and he just returned that same old goofy smile back. She turned towards me and gave me a side hug as I struggled to get through the doorway to set everything down.

"I'm so glad to have you guys here! Jack, go ahead and take your stuff upstairs, second room on the left. That'll be your space."

I softly thanked her before following her directions and headed up to my new room.

I dropped the box on the floor and surveyed my new living quarters. It was quite plain, a simple queen-sized bed and a tv to occupy it with barren white walls. It was a blank slate for me to design however I wanted. Should I change up my style and try something new or stick with what's comfortable.

After about 30 minutes, we finished unloading the rest of what would be staying in the house with us. I never once saw her daughter, although I did see a familiar car in the garage indicating she was here somewhere. Maybe she was just nervous to meet? I am a new face moving into her space, after all.

"Alright, Jacelyn and I are going to head to the storage unit to unload everything else. How about you stay here and just finish setting up your room? Get comfortable, take a bit to breathe and settle down. We shouldn't take too long."

"That sounds good, I'll see you guys in a bit."

I waved them off and closed the front door. Silence filled the air, like I was the only one here. Still no sign of her daughter. There were two cars in the garage, so she's definitely here. Is she just shy, or maybe she could care less about us? I shrug my shoulders. If I never meet her, so what? I'm used to being an only child anyways.

As I pass by the living room, I notice a couple trophies and medals on the mantle. Whoever she is, she must have been successful. Athletic, perhaps? The direct opposite of me, that's for certain. I don't really bother looking to see what sport they're for, I'll figure it out eventually.

I need a bit of comfort with my own stuff after this long day, so I go ahead and head up to my room to start unpacking.

I sit my guitar and amp in the corner, my xbox up on the tv stand, and start to line all my clothes up along the dresser to into their respective drawers.

My dad's words echo in my head, and I smile as I think: It really could be much worse, couldn't it?

I spend the next hour organizing, humming to myself as I ended up just recreating my old room with little to no difference besides the color of the walls. Well, why fix what isn't broke? My books sat on the floor for now, though. I would need to get another shelf for them, but that isn't terribly important.

I stood back and admired my handiwork when suddenly a voice was heard from the doorway, breaking the silence of the house. I jumped from the sudden intrusion before freezing in place.

"So, you're my new little bro, huh?"

That voice... It carried a tone I knew all too well. It was one that sent shivers down my spine, standing each and every hair on my body on end as they screamed danger was close. Any comfort I had gained as I grew accustomed to my new surroundings was immediately thrown out of the window. It couldn't be...

"Wait a minute...No. Fucking. Way. Jakie? Is that really you?"

I slowly turn my head towards the sound of the voice, praying it was just some trick of the mind, an audible illusion from the stress and exhaustion. Only one person in this world ever called me Jakie, and she was supposed to be out of my life forever. She was supposed to be gone. But as I look at the girl standing in my doorway, everything starts to click into place.

A well-sculpted girl in grey sweats with nothing more than a sports bra on stood in my doorway. Much like her mother, she sported the same black hair that fell over her shoulders and a set of green eyes that gleamed with excitement, like a cat that had just found a new toy to play with.

The reason Jacelyn looked so familiar was because I had gone to school with the spitting image of her for the past 4 years.

Her daughter was Sadie, my high school bully.

"S-Sadie? What are you doing here?" I stumbled over my words as I instinctually began to back away.

She posted up against my doorframe, arms crossed as she sported her signature smirk that I often saw by my locker, waiting to make my day hell. People often joked that Sadie was short for Sadism with the variety of things she put me through, and I would say they were absolutely right.

"What am I doing here? It's my house, dumbass. The real question is what are you doing here?"

"I live here now. Does that mean..."

We answered the question simultaneously.

"We're stepsiblings?"

No.... No this can't be happening. I thought she was out of my life forever! She graduated highschool last year and her reign of torment had finally ceased. I was having a normal year, able to walk the halls in peace and not have to look over my shoulder and check every corner. I thought it was finally over...

Sadie stood in my doorway cackling maniacally. "I always wanted a brother, but for it to end up being you? Santa himself couldn't have brought me a better gift! I was just going to give him some general teasing and see how much of a little bitch he was and what I could get away with, but for it to be you? Oh, this is perfect." Sadie rubbed her hands together viciously as she licked her lips, looking me up and down like she was staring at a five-course meal of pain and suffering.

"But she said her daughter's name was Sarah..."

"It is, but Sarah is just so plain, don't you think? And Sadie is technically just a nickname for Sarah. I figured you would've known that, being the nerd and all."

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. I frantically search for another means of escape as my eyes dart around the room, but she seems to block the only route out unless I plan on jumping out of the second story window.

"What's wrong Jakie? Aren't you happy to see me? We used to have so much fun together! You can even begin to imagine how sad I was to leave you behind. If I could've taken you to college with me, I would've. I could have kept you like a pet in my closet."

Fun was not the word I would use to describe our time together. Hell, torture, eternal suffering, those seemed to hit the mark a bit better. As she walked up to me, I felt that instinctual fear that plagued me for so long.

Sadie towered over me, standing at 5'10 while I was a measly 5'5, making me easy prey for her. I was slim built, never having done a sport in my life, while she filled out her clothes with pure mass and muscle, followed by gaining a starting spot on the school wrestling team. She quite literally made a sport out of physically harassing men, and I was often the practice dummy.

If I wasn't getting shoved in a locker, I was shoved behind the bleachers. If I wasn't getting dragged into a janitor's closet, I was getting held down in the library in between the book shelves. Sometimes she would just walk up behind me in the hallways with her sweaty socks on her hand like a glove and yank them over my face, never bothering to care who may have saw. More often than not, she would leave her wrestling shoes in my locker after practice to find them in the morning after the smell tainted all my school supplies.

If she caught me by myself, she would wrestle me to the floor and try out her various chokeholds on me until a teacher broke us up, but she was pretty good about finding empty stairwells and blindspots, or she would simply drag me to a closet and threaten to make matters worse if I tried to scream out or resist.

It was blatant bullying, but nobody cared enough to do a damn thing about it because of the fear of having her turn on them instead. The teachers would've reprimanded her, but she was a consistent state qualifier for the team and brought the school a lot of pride and attention when it came to our sports, so they simply asked her to tone it down off the mat, which she never did, while never doing anything more than slapping her wrists.

I was pretty much just used as a sacrifice to keep her attention until she finally graduated. I thought I finally made it out of her grasps.

But now here I am, right back within them.

She licked her lips, practically drooling at the thought of what she should do to me first.

"I can't believe I actually have you all to myself. No teachers to stop us, no cameras, no rules, just you and me."

I backed up, raising my hands defensively as she followed, her hips swaying back and forth as she slowly closed the gap between us. I eventually stopped with my back to the wall, nowhere to run.

I felt absolutely helpless. That pure aura of dominance that she radiated locked me into place as she slammed her hands on the wall over my shoulders, trapping me in the cell of her arms.

"Well, "little bro", what should we do first? I've been so deprived of action I'm a little scared I'll rip you apart, but I'm sure you'll hold up. Should we warm up with a little sparring match? Or do you just wanna go ahead and submit to me? I'm always open to ideas."

What can I do? I can't fight her, a single one of her biceps is bigger than both of mine combined. And she isn't exactly slow either if I try to run for it. Would I be better off submitting?

No, that's always been a trick anyways. I've never noticed a difference between struggling or giving in besides how long it took to get to what she planned on doing to me anyways, she has just as much fun with me no matter what I choose.

"Sadie, come on. I still need to finish unpacking my stuff. Can't we hold off on the harassment just a bit longer?"

"What? It's been months since we've seen each other! I can barely stand to wait another second..."

She leaned forward, placing her knee between my thighs just underneath my crotch as her hot breath whispered across my ear. "You know, if you submit I'll let you pick which part of my body you're going to spend the night with your face buried against. I know you was a really big fan of my feet back then, would you like that? I got back from the gym not too long ago, so they should still be pretty fresh..."

I whimpered as the memories of that sharp pungent odor stabbed my nostrils, "N-No, please..." It wasn't uncommon for her to wear the same socks for weeks at a time to the point you could smell them outside of her shoes. She claimed it was a wrestling tactic that helped her beat her opponents, making them more willing to submit just to get off the mat away from her.

"Ooh," she purred. "So, it's my ass you really want then? Remember that time I shoved your head inside my singlet behind the bleachers? God, it was hilarious how you thrashed around like a snake that lost its head. I don't have any my uniforms on hand but I bet we could redo it with a pair of spandex shorts. Or I could just get one of my belts and tie you to my ass. How does that sound?"

That was one of my worst experiences with her to date. I remember how she shoved me behind the bleachers away from everyone else's view before she wrestled me onto my back and revealed her wrestling uniform that she had pulled down around her waist under her sweatpants. She had a match that day and just liked to keep the bottom half on under her clothes in case she could find a reason to torment me.

She yanked on my hair with one hand and held the back of her singlet open with the other, forcefully shoving me into that dark humid environment as the spandex snapped shut around the back of my head. I couldn't even move my head as the tightness of her uniform shoved my head deep between her massive asscheeks, holding me in place and refusing to give me even a single inch worth of space for a breath. Even if I did manage to snag the littlest bit of air, it was horribly tainted with musky, sweat-ridden fumes of her direct ass.