The Worm Turns

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

All Characters are over the age of 18

I was strapped to the punishment table because I had been disobedient. In reality, it was an old massage bed that had been adapted and modified recently and I was there because once again I had raised my voice and tried to assert my opinion, something that was not allowed. I should have known better; this wasn't the first time I have been punished for overstepping the mark.

With my face nestling in the hole at one end, my view was limited to beneath the bed which presently was dark because of the material that ran all around its edge and reached the floor. I couldn't raise my head because of the strap which held it in position, nor could I move my arms because my wrists were attached by restraints to the legs of the bed.

My feet overhung the other end and again these were secured with leather straps that immobilised my legs. To complete my confinement, a long leather belt and buckle secured my waist and buttocks, keeping me motionless as I awaited my punishment. The adaptation that I mentioned was a hole cut in the tabletop, exactly where my groin rested and through which, in my naked state, my limp penis and scrotum presently dangled.

Someone entered the room, coming to stand by the table, I watched fearfully underneath as the material on one side was drawn back like a set of curtains, but only enough to allow a hand and arm to be inserted as a solitary finger softly stroked the head of my cock. I had no defence against that digit as immediately I felt a familiar sensation in my groin and watched as my shaft began to thicken and expand.

When the hand had achieved its objective of bringing me to a full erection, a clamp was attached to my genitals which would stop me from trying to withdraw them and also to help keep my erection from diminishing. I watched the hand withdraw, returning moments later covered in lotion as it massaged the oil into my shaft and sack, long slow strokes followed as it ran from my bollocks up the length of my cock and finished as it massaged my knob.

Gritting my teeth, I attempted to stop the groans of pleasure threatening to sneak out as the hand wanked my shaft slowly and teasingly, causing it to jerk repeatedly as my arousal grew. The sensations had got heady, and a moan had left my lips as the fingers slid around my glans and stroked my knob. I knew what came next, bracing myself as the leather paddle came down with force on my buttocks with a stinging slap.

I couldn't stop myself yelping in pain, my body trying to move, but I was restrained by all the straps and my cock clamped beneath the tabletop. Again, and again, the paddle landed, my buttocks smarting from the blows and my shaft starting to lose its stiffness as pain masked the pleasure. Clamping my lips together, I suffered two more blows before they stopped now that I was silent again.

The stroking resumed and my erection returned, my cock and balls throbbing now because the hand was relentless, sliding up and down my cock as it jerked me off, constantly rubbing at that sensitive area under the rim of my helmet as my climax drew ever closer.

I knew what was going to happen, it happened each time, the overriding sensations filling my sack and shaft forcing me to cry out loud, my cock shuddering in the hand as I watched spurt after spurt of my semen erupt from its tip, the hand jerking my flesh rapidly, as the paddle came down angrily on my buttocks time and time again, each slap of it leathery surface eliciting another spurt of cum from my cock and the hand never wavering as it extracted every drop of fluid that my sack could expel.

When it was over, the clamp was deftly removed, the straps undone, and then the room was silent as I was left alone to recover, my cock now flaccid after my huge ejaculation and my buttocks sore and stinging from the repeated blows of the paddle.

At last, I moved, gingerly easing myself from the table until my feet touched the floor, and I was able to stand. There was some soothing balm on the small table to one side and I squeezed some into my hand and looking in the wall mirror, spreading it across my rosy, red buttocks.

Dressed and back downstairs, I apologised to my stepmother and stepsister, asking their forgiveness and thanking them for my punishment.

My stepmother has always been strict, the opposite of my mother who had been tender and caring, but she had passed away when I was eight and a year later my father had moved Stella and her daughter Leah into our house. He was a salesman, forever out on the road during the week and I suppose an eight-year-old kid cramped his style. We had no relatives who lived near us, so for twelve months after my mother's death, I was passed from pillar to post, left with whoever would take me while he was away.

When he was around at the weekends, Stella and Leah were as nice as pie, but the moment he was gone for the week, my life became a misery. Stella loved to punish me for the most insignificant misdemeanour and so I would find myself mostly confined to my room.

I tried to tell him, but he was not interested, telling me that I must have deserved it and so eventually I just gave in and learned to accept that I must have done wrong.

Leah was definitely her mother's daughter, she was a sneaky, obnoxious, lying bitch who would do and say anything that would get me into trouble. She was four years older than me when they moved in and her idea of fun was to humiliate me at any opportunity.

As I got older, I became stubborn, and so Stella's punishments escalated proportionately. I had no friends because no one was allowed to visit our house unless permission was obtained from her first, something that was never given. Going through phrases of being boisterous, by my early teen's I would back-chat or defy her, but slowly it was expunged from my character, Stella always finding reasons each day to punish me until I became subdued and subservient.

When I turned eighteen, she upped the ante again, her favourite ploy being one of humiliation. It would be a couple of weeks after my birthday and as usual, I had done something to annoy her. Her punishment on this occasion was to have me drop my trousers and stand in the corner of the room with my flaccid cock hanging down and waiting for whatever came next. When a sufficient amount of time had passed, she called me over to her and I had to lay across her knee's while she spanked me. At eighteen I should have been indignant, but I just didn't know how to fight back and so readily accepted it.

It was during that punishment about six months later, that I had committed the cardinal sin.

Stella worked at a salon during the day as a therapist and masseur, which was probably where the punishment table came from, dealing with her mainly female customers. But each evening when my father was away, she would entertain her private customers, the majority of which were men. I had said something to one of them which Stella did not like and so once they had gone, I was back to my normal position of standing in a corner with my pants and undies around my ankles while Leah sniggered at me as I awaited my punishment.

As she uncrossed her legs, I got a quick view up Stella's skirt, noting that she was wearing stockings. Despite my dislike of her, the sight of her nylon clad legs caused a rush of blood to my cock, not enough for an erection, but enough to make it thicken. She did not need to speak as she beckoned me over, I knew the routine by now as I waddled across to her and leant across her knees. Unfortunately, somehow my shaft became lodged between her thighs as she clamped her legs together.

The flat of her hand came down on the cheeks of my arse, forcing my groin hard against her thighs and pushing the skin back on my cock. Each subsequent blow, although my buttocks were stinging, tossed me off as my erection rubbed between her stockinged legs. She took great satisfaction from my moans and groans, assuming it was because of her spanking, when in fact it was because my excitement and arousal had got the better of me.

As she delivered what she thought was her final blow, the unthinkable happened, my cock ejaculated cum all over her inner thighs and legs, jerking continuously until I had emptied my sack.

As you can imagine, she was horrified, screaming abuse at me as Leah looked on in amusement. Stella pushed me away as she stood and tried to kick me in the bollocks, my hands protectively trying to cover my manhood. After several slaps and kicks, I was sent to my room in disgrace, knowing that there would be retribution for what had happened.

Her retribution was the punishment table I found out soon afterwards, naked and strapped to it, Leah would take great delight as she played with my cock, bringing it erect and teasing me for as long as possible as she delayed my climax. Any sign that I was enjoying it would immediately result in the leather paddle coming down loudly as it slapped against my buttocks.

Leah was good at what she did, slowly and sensually stroking my shaft until my arousal was at its peak and my balls were fit to burst before wanking me furiously as my cum spurted forth, Stella waited for that moment and then she would frenziedly whack away at my posterior until she was exhausted. I suppose that her idea was eventually, my fear of the pain would stop me from being able to achieve a climax, unfortunately, the opposite was happening, and instead, I began to associate the pain with pleasure.

Having left school with no qualifications, I had ended up working in the same warehouse where Leah worked. At least there, she worked in the offices while I was out in the main body of the building which meant that I saw very little of her each day. I was glad that I'd had to open a bank account to have my wages paid into because it stopped Stella taking everything I earned, which she would use I presumed, to pamper herself and her daughter.

It was completely unfair, Leah never seemed to be in trouble for anything, all that went wrong was my fault and I would then have to suffer the humiliation of stripping off in front of them both whilst they laughed and pointed before submitting myself to Stella's judgement. Her decisions always seemed to rest on how she was feeling that day, it could be something as minor as standing naked in the corner, allowing them to slap at my genitals each time they passed, or it could be the water treatment.

This was the one I hated the most because it had three parts to it. I knew when this punishment was imminent because of the number of drinks I would have to provide to them beforehand. Part one would normally start with me having to lay out a plastic sheet before I removed my clothes and lay prone on it. Stella and Leah would remove their lower clothing, brazenly parading their fannies in front of me and giggling as obviously my cock began to attain an erection.

This was what Stella anticipated because as my shaft grew, she had what I could only describe as an electric wand. This was part two, the sight of my erection gave her just cause to jab the wand at my penis and testicles, making me jump with each touch as I snivelled with the discomfort. Part three was the worst, they would take it in turns to crouch over me, opening their fannies wide and then straining as they pissed on my genitals, my chest and even my face. I would be forced to lay in their puddle of urine whilst they continued to consume liquid and show me their stretched cunts, jabbing the wand at me as my shaft went from erect to flaccid and then back again.

Once they'd had their fun and become bored, they would dress, informing me that I should spend another thirty minutes laying in the golden pool before I was allowed to get up and carefully clear the mess away before taking my shower and dressing.

Alone, I would sob quietly to myself, wishing I could be like other men and be more dominant, refusing to do what Stella and Leah demanded. But I didn't have the courage, my punishments had become part of my life and I had no idea how to break the circle. It was no good complaining to my father, he wasn't interested and as yet, I was in no position to move out, the biggest proportion of my wages being taken by Stella. And so, I continued to suffer in silence, as much as I hated the pain and the degradation, I looked forward to seeing their pussies and the feel of their hands on my manhood as I ejaculated.

I'd had my twentieth birthday, nothing special, no cards, no presents and no party. It was just another day, one that I had spent working as usual. My father arrived home that Friday evening, all smiles and full of the joys of spring. He had booked a week away, not for me or Leah, but just for him and Stella and I wondered if he may have done that if he knew about all the men that visited our house. I wasn't going to tell him, it served him right, perhaps if he had treated me better, who knows? But as it was, I had no concern about how many men were shagging my stepmother, hopefully, she would catch something eventually.

Perhaps the week of their holiday would have been no different to any of the others if it hadn't been for a comment that Leah must have passed at work. I don't know what was said, but suddenly I was the butt of everyone's jokes, especially the workers on the shop floor. For the first time in my life, I felt anger. No! it was more than anger, it was hatred, it was one thing to ridicule me at home, it was another to do it at work amongst all the people I had to get on with each day.

When the day came for them to leave, we obediently waved them off, Leah smiling but whispering under her breath as they drove away.

'Don't think you're going to get away with anything this week. Mum has left me in charge, and I have to keep you in check,' she said out of the side of her mouth before using her elbow to dig me in the ribs.

For once in my life, I went out that evening and didn't ask permission, something I knew would elicit punishment when I returned. Four pints of beer later, my head spun, this was the first time I had ever tasted it, it was the first time I had been in a pub and the feeling of being drunk was exhilarating. Staggering towards home, I talked to myself, trying to summon up the courage to defy Leah once I reached the house. But I had been conditioned over the years and as I arrived home I was shaking, ready to accept whatever she decided.

Leah was waiting for me when I got in, strutting around the lounge with a cane in her hand as she verbally abused me. I was going to say sorry, but she had worked herself into a temper, lashing out with the cane and hitting me in the face before I had even had a chance to try and defend myself.

It had never happened before, for years I had been subservient, but suddenly I saw red, my body moving before my brain even processed what I was doing. In all that time Stella and Leah had got used to me doing as they told me, they had become complacent, forgetting that I now stood taller than either of them or that the manual work I did each day had given me muscles.

Grabbing the cane, I ripped it from her hand, bending it as it snapped in two and then throwing it across the room, her eyes unconsciously following its trajectory as it landed on the floor. When she looked back, her face screwed up in fury, it was too late, I had already covered the short distance, my hand and fingers around her throat as I propelled her backwards until she slammed up against the wall.

Despite my anger, I had an uncontrollable moment of amusement as I watched her face change from one of disgust and dislike to one that showed the first inkling of fear. And then the pain from her blow returned as I began to lift her one-handed by the neck, noticing as she came up onto the balls of her feet and then onto tiptoes, her face starting to go red as I raised her higher still, her feet now off the ground as she began to choke.

I could hear her feet drumming against the wall, the sight of her eyes bulging and the rasping choking noise as she desperately tried to draw air into her lungs. She looked petrified now, convinced that she was going to die when I came to my senses and lowered her, easing the pressure on her throat but still not releasing her.

All those years of punishments that I had received came to the fore, the things that Leah and her mother had done to me without any thought or consideration. Perhaps that is why I found my other hand pushing the front of her skirt up as roughly I groped her fanny, my hand and fingers exploring her genitals as she protested continually, the first hint of tears showing.

I felt no pity, wasn't this what she had done to me and more, had she ever felt pity for me when she abused me, at that moment I felt no sympathy. Releasing her and stepping back, I'm sure my face must have looked cruel, my brain after all this time was demanding retribution.

'Get undressed!' It wasn't a request; it was an order.

Leah stared at me through her slitted eyelids, a trickle of tears running down her cheeks as she shook with indignation and told me to 'Fuck off.'

My hand came up and lashed out, not hard, but enough to turn her cheek rosy as I slapped her. 'I said, get undressed!'

Her fingers trembled as she tried to unbutton her top and I hadn't the patience to wait as I ripped it open and pulled it from her. 'Now the skirt.'

Standing in front of me in nothing but her underwear, she tried to cover her modesty. I could not understand why as I laughed sarcastically, how many times had I seen her fanny when she had squatted and pissed on me.

'Get upstairs. You need to be punished!'

Now she really did look scared, but there was no one here to help her, no one was going to come galloping to her rescue. She couldn't turn to her mother, she was alone, and Leah was suddenly realising that she was defenceless against anything I decided to do. I had never seen her naked, I have never seen her tits, her fanny being the only part of her body that had been displayed to me on many occasions and the thought of seeing her undressed was getting me excited.

Leah was shaking her head rapidly now. 'No, no you can't. I won't allow it.'

I just laughed uproariously as I grabbed a handful of hair, dragging her up the stairs towards her bedroom as she begged and pleaded with me. With my anger subsiding it was now replaced with euphoria and arousal as I thought about what I intended to do, I was going to fuck my stepsister, I was going to debase her as she had done many times to me.

Pushing her into her bedroom, I closed the door behind me and put my back to it as she stood there still trying to cover herself and looking petrified.

'Take them off.' Leah made no move to comply, simply staring at me and maybe hoping that I would relent and change my mind, allowing her to go free.

'Either you take them off or I will rip them off you,' I said, the throbbing down below increasing as I anticipated seeing her completely naked for the first time.

I have to admit that my stepsister actually looked pretty good in the nude, good enough in fact that if she hadn't been such a bitch to me over the years, I could quite easily have fancied her. On the bed, she sat at the far end, drawing her knee's up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

Slowly I began to undress, Leah had seen me naked so many times that I felt not one shred of embarrassment as I got rid of my clothes, my cock jutting skyward and jerking occasionally as I savoured what I was about to do. I'd never had a girlfriend, in fact, I'd never had sex other than the masturbation that Leah performed on me regularly, knowing instinctively what to do, I approached the bed.

She cowered away from me, but I simply grabbed her ankles and dragged her into a prone position as I forced her legs open. When she tried to strike out, I slapped her face a couple of times so that she knew who the boss was as I pushed my cock down into position.