The Spanked Step-Sister Pt. 04

Our parents went up to bed. Dad made some corny joke about doing the dishes, something like, "We bought, you clean." They walked out laughing and talking, absolutely none the wiser. Unthinkingly, I leaned my butt against the counter, then winced as a fresh, smarting pain came surging back.

Jason saw me and snorted a laugh.

I looked at him with my mouth open. He was taking the dishes to the sink as though nothing had happened. As though we were just two step-siblings cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. As if he hadn't just almost made me cum from spanking my bare ass with a belt, after I'd snuck into the shower to see his enormous cock. For a moment, I almost wondered if I'd imagined the entire thing.

So I was lost in this dream-haze, unsure if anything was real (except for the pain in my backside. That much was very real). Maybe that's why I chose to ask the stupidest question imaginable as Jason started running the water over the plates.

"Why did you spank me?"

His hand goes still on the hot water handle mid-twist. He looks at me with an eyebrow raised. For one gut-wrenching second I wonder, again, if I had dreamed the whole thing, and had just asked my stepbrother about a spanking fantasy that had only taken place in my own head.

But then I saw the smirk twitching on his handsome mouth, and the butterflies came back.

He set that dish on the drying rack and picked up another one. "There's not many," he said. "I'll wash, you dry." And then, because I continued to stand there like a dumbass, he jerked his head in the direction of the dishtowels hanging from the stove.

So I stood next to him, took the wet plate from the drying rack, and started to dry. He seemed satisfied by this, and his shoulders relaxed. I made circular motions on the surface of the plate, dabbing up the rivulets of sink water before starting a "clean" a stack aside to be put away.

"I've thought about it too, you know," he says suddenly in a soft tone. My hand stops in the middle of setting the plate down. The plate clacks against the counter, and then the kitchen is silent. So silent that I can hear the blood pounding in my ears. "About you. That way." He isn't looking at me, but instead grins at the plate in his hands. "What I'd do if you weren't..."

There's a pause.

"Your step-sister," I say finally, taking the plate he offers.

"Yeah," he says heavily. "My step-sister."

"But don't you think -" The words pour out of me like the hot water steaming from the sink faucet, but they have no direction. Like the hot water, they cascade off the plate in Jason's hands and rush swiftly down the drain. "I mean - I just think...like, if no one knew..."

"You're talking about keeping a big secret," Jason says.

I don't reply.

"A huge secret." His voice is stern and warning...but not forbidding. For the first time, I turn to look directly at his face. He shuts off the sink and turns to me. "No one could ever know."

"No one."

"Not your closest friends."

"No."

"Not even your sister."

"Our sister," I correct gently. This earns me a genuine laugh. His smile is mesmerizing. His face flushes lightly, and my heart melts.

He leans on the sink, his broad shoulders rising as he rests his palms flat on the counter and looks down into the sink basin. "That sort of secret would be tough to keep. We'd have to be really careful." He gives me a sly look. "That means no spying in the bathroom. Especially not the kind of obvious spying that gets you caught."

Now it's my turn to flush.

"There's another thing," he says gruffly, giving me the final washed plate and using a paper towel to dry his hands. "I'm a certain...type of guy."

I nod. My hand instinctively goes to my butt. Believe me, I know.

"I like things a certain way, and I like to have control." He fixes me with a hard look, his gaze darting from eye to eye as though he were trying to look through into my brain. "And you would have to be okay with that. Would you?"

Fuck yes.

"Yes," I say weakly, swallowing at the end. "I...I would be okay with that."

He takes the plate from my quivering hands and sets it on the stack. He moves forward so his face is close to mince, looking down at my, his chest mere inches from my own. I look up into his eyes helplessly, and he keeps my gaze as he takes the full stack of plates and lifts it into the open cabinet. As he shuts the door, he tilts his head down, and I find my mouth has gone completely dry.

My pussy is another story.

He lifts his arm and I flinch, but he's only going to chuck my chin up so I get a better look at his angular face: the hard line of his brow, the way his lips pressed together tightly in a purposeful grimace. The piercing intensity of his eyes.

"So if I tell you," he says in that quiet, husky voice - that voice that makes me feel as though his words were sliding into me, spreading me around them - he says, "If I tell you that I want to have you right now. That I want you to go up to your bedroom, strip naked, and get up on your bed on all fours and wait for me." My breath leaves my lungs. "You would do it. No questions asked."

There's no question mark at the end of his sentence.

And there's no question in my mind.

So I nod.

He looks at me for what seems like an eternity after that. Then, at last, he nods back. "Go," he whispers, almost inaudibly. Or maybe he doesn't even whisper it. Maybe it was the voice in my own head saying that, a soft instruction from my subconscious.

Go.

I rush upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Once I'm in my room, I shut the door and press my back against it as though I were being chased. My heart is pounding. I almost wonder if dad can hear it. I can hear them talking in the other room - the walls are thin. My stepmother laughs loudly. I wince again. I'm not a screamer or anything, but I gotta imagine that if Jason puts that thing in me, we're going to make noise.

But I hadn't forgotten what Jason told me. You would do it. No questions asked. So I grimaced and swallowed hard, then stepped forward and started lifting off my shirt. I like to have control. My knees are trembling as I toss the shirt aside, even worse as I'm balancing on one foot, trying to step out of my panties and jean shorts. The air is chilly, but it's not the reason my nipples are standing on end. I feel like I'm completely paralyzed. Only through an immense effort do I manage to turn my head to get a glimpse of myself in the standing mirror I keep in the corner of the room.

I'm completely naked. My cherry-red ass is bared to the world. I can see the dark hair on my pussy trailing into the peach fuzz on my stomach. I can see the goose bumps rising on my thighs. I cross my arms over my chest. Have I ever looked at myself naked before? I start to wonder. Have I ever been THIS naked? There's a different quality to standing here without my clothes now, a feeling that isn't there when I'm getting ready for a shower. It's a type of nakedness I've never experienced before.

And I like it.

Then I remember the next instruction.

Get up on your bed on all fours and wait for me.

My breath catches again, and I look back at the bed. I moan softly, and I don't even really know why.

A second later I am kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking like I'm about to start praying. I put my head down and close my eyes, imagining how I must look: my entire pale body stark naked down to my earrings, my spanked bottom in the air as red as a summer strawberry, my dark hair falling over my face. I take a deep breath and rest myself on my elbows. And I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

I don't know how long I waited. I left my phone in the pocket of my jean shorts, and I wasn't about to get up and check. I knelt there on my hands and knees, stock still, trying to breath slow, feeling the air kiss my pussy and asshole as I held my backside up. It started to ache.

At one point, I heard voices. Low voices. I couldn't tell if it was just my parents, or if Jason was talking to them. I think I actually started to sweat. What if this is some kind of set-up? What if he's not actually into me, and he's telling my parents what a sick freak I am right now? What if they're about to barge in and see my on all fours, waiting for my step-brother to come fuck me, and they send me off to an asylum or some shit? Honestly, I wouldn't have been able to blame them. My heart started pounding even harder, and I shifted my weight uncomfortably.

I swear, I think I was ten seconds away from just giving up, when I heard the door open behind me.

My heart leapt into my throat. I tried to look over my shoulder but couldn't see the door from my angle - which was a stupid fucking idea if I ever had one - so I wound up looking between my legs. What I saw was Jason, upside down, taking off his shirt with one hand, and with the other hand locking the door.

I looked up, and he cleared the space between us before I could even blink. I was so wound up that I cried out when his fingers grazed my back, then slapped my own hand over my mouth. Oh my god. Did I just give us away?

"They're gone," Jason said, as though he was reading my mind. "Mom and dad went back out. I gave them movie tickets and told them I had a date that cancelled."

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"But," he growled, taking my right butt cheek in hand and squeezing the tender flesh until I squealed, "you didn't know that. And you could have given us away with that." He released my ass and I gasped like a diver coming up for air. Every inch of me was aching for him, and parts of me were on fire. My ass, in particular, felt like it was literally on fire, even as he rubbed in a soothing circle.

I turned to look over my shoulder. I could just barely see his looming figure, the wideness of his pecs, the angle of his chin. "I-I'm sorry." I said, trembling.

He laughed aloud. Then, grabbing my ass tightly again, he leaned over to my ear.

"Didn't we go over this already?" he growled, just over my neck. I could feel his hot breath on my bare shoulder, and I whimpered. "Sorry is not gonna cut it."

Fwack!

Like a blinding flash of lightning, the pain in my sore ass suddenly flared again as his clapped his hand down hard on my butt cheek. I cried aloud. He grabbed my buttock, spread me, then released and slapped again even harder. I wailed. My poor bottom! My toes curled from the pain and I dropped my head. Then he turned his attention to the other cheek.

Fwack!

"Oh god!" I grabbed the covers in both fists and dropped my bottom, only for and instant, before he grabbed my thigh and pushed me back up for a better target. Another hearty fwack, and I could feel my butt cheeks bouncing; I could feel the terrible hotness in my face and the throbbing in my mind.

Whack!

A full-handed contact, his spread fingers cupped the entire orb of my right butt cheek this time, my bright red butt smarting anew like it had never smarted before.

"Are you going to be more careful?"

Fwack!

"Aaaaahaha! Yes, yessss!" I kicked my feet to try to reduce the pain. It didn't work.

"You're not going to let anyone know? Not going to let it slip?"

Fwack!

"Eeeeeeiiiiaa! Ohmigosh no, I swear! I swear!"

"Good. Because if anyone knew..." He takes my ass cheek, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger to spread it open and reveal the glistening pink beneath, "that I was fucking my step-sister..."

Fwack!

My mind roared like a wind turbine. I pressed my face down on the pillow and bit my finger to keep from screaming.

"Well," he continues, his voice soft again, "then we'd both be fucked."

His hand made a circular rubbing motion over my hindquarters, the soft rasp of his hand on my skin like the sound of the ocean. I started to feel myself relaxing. He was making the same motion I made when I was drying the dishes. It felt like running water on a hot pan. I purred.

And then, before I knew it, I felt him at my entrance. My eyes went wide. I was still biting my finger, and I think I came pretty close to chomping it off. The head of his dick prodded against my soaking wet sex like a neighbor knocking who knows your home. I took a deep breath, and at the top of it, I squeaked out:

"Please."

And with that, he plunged.

My stepbrother rammed his cock into me with full force. Air exploded out of my lips, a small cry of fantastic pleasure and pain. My pussy was so wet that he slid fully inside. It was almost as though he was falling into me, though so much more graceful. Like he was an acrobat dropping from a high wire, only to swiftly lunge back from the other side. He just seemed to fit. Like a glove. I felt, for the first time, like I was truly, genuinely full.

I drew in a deep breath and moaned. "Omigod," I said into my pillow. "Omigod Jason, I-"

He started to pump, slowly at first. I was so slick and wet that I sloshed. I usually take longer to warm up - sometimes Martin and I even use lube - but the spanking made my hole more slippery than I'd ever thought was possible. I took his entire cock with every thrust, even as it seemed to be going into places in me never explored, depths never plumbed. I could feel my eyes crossing. My hands clenched and unclenched. My ass stung as his body slapped against my reddened tush. Drool started pooling at my lips.

It started to build in me then. Like a geyser burbling beneath the surface. I moaned a couple of times, shifting my butt as he pounded into me, reaching between my legs to stroke my clit. I rubbed in frantic circles, on eye closed, the other open and watching him between my legs. In seconds I was cumming, and screaming it out too. My whole body tensed and writhed. I squeezed around his cock.

Then he pulled out of me with a soft pop. He grunted and turned me over. Then, getting up onto the bed on his knees, he took me by the back of my head, and I knew instantly what I had to do.

Before that night, I'd never sucked a cock like that. I was all over it, licking it up and down. I could hardly fit it all into my mouth, and when I did I could only manage to take half of it before it felt as though he were hitting the back wall of my throat. But god I did my best, clasping and unclasping his balls, stroking between licks, taking him so hard and long that I sounded like a dying fish when I'd come up for air. He whispered softly and moaned: "Yeah, that's it. Oh god yes," he said, and he then he took me by my hair and pulled me off him, a string of saliva dangling from my mouth to his swollen member. He grinned at me, panting. "Where'd my step-sister learn to suck a cock like that?"

I grinned back at him and wiped my bare arm across my face. Paying absolutely no mind to that fact that my lips had just been around his dick, he leaned forward and kissed me. Softly. Sweetly. I melted into it, his lips locking to mine. Another perfect fit.

Then he gently pushed me down, and I fell back like dead weight. I spread my legs so the soles of my feet were facing the ceiling. I grabbed the insides of my knees and bit my lip.

He took his cock in his hand and guided it towards me. Once he was at the entrance of my pussy he looked into my eyes. "Ready?" he said, breathless.

I nodded. I couldn't take my eyes off his cock.

I watched as he slid into me.

Only when the base of his dick reached the inside of my legs did I close my eyes, my mouth open and gasping, small and helpless sounds coming from the back of my throat. Oh my god, the way he filled me. The way I was completely owned by him, and the way he held the back of my neck as he fucked me, slow at first and then hard, until I was gasping and sputtering and howling, my voice quavering with his slamming thrusts, his hand tighter around my neck and I started to cum, a blinding, earth-shattering cum, an orgasm that made my toes curl and my jaw hurt and my eyes roll back in my head. I took my hands off my legs and locked my arms, holding myself up as he was pinning me down. I was screaming, cumming for a second time, and I didn't give a fuck in that moment who knew.

I was still cumming, shouting and gasping, my sore ass being driven deeper into the mattress, when he started to come too. I could tell before he started grunting by the way the cock inside me twitched. Another thrust and it was spewing into me, ropes of his cum filling me up. I didn't think of whether I'd taken my pill. I didn't think of anything in that moment. I looked into his eyes, and he looked into mine, as he released his semen into me. As his rhythm slowed and we started to pull apart, still gasping, our eyes met again.

He looked into my face as though he were studying something beautiful. His dark eyes now were soft and dewy. It dawned on me at last that, to him, he was looking at something beautiful. He thinks I'm beautiful. I looked back into his face, sinking deeper into that look.

And right there, full of my stepbrothers cum, with a sheen of sweat all over my naked body and strands of my hair sticking to my face, I realized I had never felt more beautiful ever in my life.

And that's how it started. Now, of course, I'm a bad girl all of the time. I can barely remember what it feels like to sit down without at least a little sting and a pleasant warmness in my face. People notice a difference: they say I'm calmer, more relaxed. Better rested. They say I look like I'm having a really good daydream whenever I stare off into space. They say I smile more.

I guess good fucking does that to you.

But it isn't always like that. Sometimes I lie awake looking at the ceiling, thinking about how fucked up all of this is. At the end of all this, I'm not sure what I regret the most about this entire thing. The fact that I'm cheating on Martin? The fact that we're technically related? The fact that my mom and my dad and my sister can never know, can never find out, and I have to keep lying to them forever?

Deep down, though, I think I know what I regret the most about sleeping with Jason. A smile passes over my lips when I think it, and I sleep like a baby.

When it comes to fucking Jason, my only regret is that I didn't start doing it sooner.