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BDSM'ed by Step-bro: Clit Torture

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last update publish date: 2026-08-04 02:47:55

I pushed the front door open and dropped my bag by the stairs. My legs were still sticky from Ethan’s cum mixing with Jake’s from the morning. The house was quiet — mom and dad weren’t back from work yet. Good. I just wanted a shower and maybe to text Jake something filthy before he got home.

I walked into my room and froze.

Jake was already there. Completely naked. His cock was rock hard and leaking pre-cum, dripping down the shaft. On my bed he had laid out a belt, some of my scarves, and
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  • All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories   My Father’s Best Friend Caught Me Mast*rbating - final

    I didn’t stop. My fingers kept pumping into my cunt, wet and loud, while Blake stared at me from the edge of the bed. His fist never slowed. Precome still leaked over his knuckles in thick, shiny strings. The look on his face was pure hunger, dark 'n focused, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Come here,” he said. I walked on wobby legs. The second I was close enough he grabbed my wrist, yanked my soaked fingers out of my pussy, and shoved them into his mouth. He sucked them clean, tongue working between each one, eyes locked on mine the whole time. Then he spun me around, shoved me face-down onto the mattress, and flipped my dress up over my back. Cool air hit my bare ass and dripping cunt. I felt how exposed I was—legs slightly apart, pussy swollen and shiny, still clenching around nothing. Blake’s hand came down hard on my ass. Once. Twice. The sharp sting made me jump and moan at the same time. He spread me open with both thumbs, staring straight at my hole

  • All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories   My Father’s Best Friend Caught Me Mast*rbating

    I woke up still wet. My fingers smelled like cunt. The sheets under me were damp where I’d rubbed against them in my sleep, half-dreaming about Blake’s voice and the way he’d watched me come on the couch with my father ten feet away. My clit was swollen and sensitive the second I shifted my legs. I didn’t touch it. I just lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying every filthy thing he’d said. Downstairs Dad was already making coffee. He looked hungover and cheerful. “Morning. You heading out today?” I poured myself a cup and kept my face blank. “Maybe.” “Good. Blake texted. He left a box of tools in the garage last night and needs them back. Said he’s working from home today. Can you drop them off? Save me the drive.” My stomach flipped hard. Exactly what Blake had told me would happen. “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll take them.” I showered fast, didn’t bother with underwear, just pulled on a loose dress that hit mid-thigh. No bra either. My nipples were already tight. The b

  • All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories   Engagement check

    A Quick Engagement Check ❣️✨Hello, lovely readers! ❣️✨Your writer here 👋👋The purpose of this chapter is simply to conduct a quick engagement check and see who is still following along at this point in the story.I’ll be doing this from time to time throughout the book to keep track of our active readership and see how many of you are still here with me. ❤️If you’re still reading, please leave a like below so I can get an idea of how many of us are still on this journey together. ❣️❣️Thank you so much for your continued support! 😊❤️

  • All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories   Book 11: My Father’s Best Friend Caught Me Mast*rbating

    My father invited his oldest friend over for a barbecue on Saturday. Blake. I hadn’t seen him in years. Not since I was still a kid and he used to come around with my dad after work. Now I was twenty-four, and the second he walked into the backyard I felt it. He was bigger than I remembered. Broader. The kind of man who looked like he still worked with his hands. Dark hair going a little gray at the temples, jaw tight, eyes that didn’t bounce around like most people’s. They landed on me and stayed there. I was wearing a thin white tank and cutoffs because it was hot as hell. The second his eyes dropped to my tits I felt my nipples tighten. He didn’t smile. Didn’t look away either. Just took his time looking, slow and open, like he had every right. My cunt pulsed once, hard. I had to turn away and pretend I was busy with the cooler. All afternoon it was like that. Every time I moved I felt him watching. When I bent over to grab more ice he was right there in my peripheral visio

  • All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories   Movie Night With Dad: Round II

    Mom eventually stirred around the time the credits finished. She blinked, stretched, and gave a sleepy smile. “Did I miss the ending?” “Pretty much,” David said, voice completely normal. “You needed the sleep.” She stood, kissed the top of my head, then his cheek, and headed upstairs. “Don’t stay up too late, you two.” The bedroom door closed. The house went quiet except for the soft hum of the television still on the menu screen. David didn’t move right away. Under the blanket his hand stayed on my thigh, fingers still sticky. He turned his head just enough to look at me. “Stay,” he said quietly. I stayed. He shifted closer, pulled the blanket higher, and slid two fingers back between my legs. I was still wet and open from him. He pushed the fingers inside and slowly scooped his own cum, pushing it deeper, then adding a third finger and working it in circles. “Keep it in,” he murmured against my ear. “I want you walking around tomorrow still feeling me.” I bit my

  • All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories   Morning After: Movie Night with Dad

    The morning after the party I woke up in my own bed with no clear memory of how I got home. My throat was raw. My ass and pussy ached in a deep, constant throb that made sitting up hurt. Dried cum was still sticky on my inner thighs and between my tits. When I checked my phone there were new photos in a shared album I didn’t remember agreeing to—me on the bed, legs spread, holes leaking, face glazed. The messages from Trent and Cody were short and casual: “good girl last night” and “next time we go longer.” I deleted the album. Then I checked the trash and deleted it again. It didn’t help. The images stayed in my head every time I closed my eyes. Classes restarted on Monday. I moved through them like nothing had happened. I smiled at the right times, answered questions, sat through lectures with my legs pressed together because the residual soreness made every shift of my hips noticeable. At night I locked my door and touched myself while replaying the way they had used me, coming

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