Locked Down With Stepdaddy

The second his mouth closed around my n!pple, my brain short-circuited for a full second.

Then pure panic took over. I did the only thing I could think of.

I lifted my foot and stomped down hard on his toes.

“Fuck—!”

Mark jerked back with a sharp curse, hopping slightly, and that was all the space I needed.

I shoved past him, snatched my top from the floor on pure instinct, and bolted out of the room like the place was on fire.

I didn’t even put the top back on. I just held it against my chest and ran down the hallway, bare feet slapping against the floor, heart trying to smash its way out of my ribcage.

I could still feel the wetness on my nipple from his mouth. The air hitting it made everything worse.

I slammed my bedroom door shut behind me and locked it with shaking hands.

Then I leaned against it, breathing like I had just finished a marathon.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” I whispered to the empty room.

I looked down at myself.

The top was clutched to my chest. The visible nipple still wet and tingling.

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.

“Why did I run?” I muttered. “I’ve wanted this. I’ve literally touched myself thinking about him doing exactly that. So why the hell did I run?”

After a minute, I finally pulled the top back over my head. My hands were still trembling.

I kept expecting to hear his footsteps outside the door. A knock. His voice.

Then my eyes drifted up to the corner of the ceiling where the camera feed had shown my room so clearly.

I walked closer, heart still racing, and started searching.

It didn’t take long.

The tiny lens was tucked near the edge of the light fixture, almost impossible to notice if you weren’t looking for it.

“Got you, you little bastard.”

I dragged the desk chair over, climbed up, and yanked the camera down.

The wires came with it.

I stared at the small device in my hand for a second, then walked into the bathroom and found the second one in a similar spot near the mirror.

I dropped both of them on the floor and smashed them under my heel until the plastic cracked and the lenses shattered.

Then I picked up the pieces and shoved them deep into the bottom of my trash can like that would somehow erase the fact they had ever existed.

Only after that did I sit on the edge of my bed.

I dragged both hands down my face and let out a long, shaky breath.

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

I had just stood there and let him pull my top off. I had let him put his mouth on me. I had moaned.

The sound was still stuck in my head.

And the worst part was how good it had felt before the panic hit.

I kept replaying it.

The way he looked at my chest. The things he said. The heat of his body when he pressed against me from behind. The exact pressure of his cock against my ass.

Every single detail refused to leave.

“I’ve wanted him for so long,” I admitted quietly to myself. “That’s the real problem. I’ve wanted this. So why did I run like some scared little girl?”

Guilt started creeping in right behind the embarrassment.

“I can’t tell Mum. If I tell her about the cameras, she’ll ask how I know, and then I’ll have to explain my own recordings. I’ll have to explain why I have videos of her husband jerking off. There’s no version of that conversation where I don’t look just as bad.”

We weren’t even on good terms. We hadn’t been for years.

Calling her up to confess that her husband just had my nipple in his mouth would only make everything messier, and I would expose myself in the process.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared at the wall.

“I should be furious. I should be packing a bag. I should be figuring out any possible way to leave this house.”

Instead, I kept thinking about the way his mouth felt.

“I’m so fucked,” I muttered.

My phone started ringing again just after nine.

Mum.

I stared at the screen for a long time before I picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you find him?” she asked immediately. “I’ve called five more times. Still nothing.”

I sat on the edge of the bed.

“I looked around. I didn’t see him.”

“What do you mean you didn’t see him? The house isn’t that big.”

“I checked the usual places. He wasn’t there.”

“Benita.”

“What do you want me to say? I didn’t see him.”

There was a short silence on her end.

“If he shows up, tell him to call me. It’s important.”

“Okay.”

She hung up without another word.

I spent the rest of the day in my room.

I didn’t go downstairs for food.

I just stayed on the bed with my phone and my thoughts, replaying everything from the workroom until my head hurt.

By midnight, I still couldn’t sleep.

I finally got up, changed into my usual black leggings and short yoga top, and quietly opened the door.

The hallway was dark.

I listened for a few seconds, then went downstairs.

I grabbed the yoga mat from its spot near the dining table and unrolled it in the middle of the living room.

The big screen was off, that is he's asleep.

"Thank God!" I muttered

I started with slow stretches, trying to calm my body the way I always did.

I reached my arms overhead, then slowly folded forward from my hips. I let my head drop and breathed out, trying to release the tension coiling through my body.

I heard the sound of someone moving down the stairs.

I kept stretching and didn’t look up.

Footsteps came closer across the living room floor.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

Mark’s voice was low. I didn’t answer.

He stopped a few feet behind me.

“You’ve been in your room all day.”

“I needed space.”

“Did it help?”

“Not really.”

There was a short pause.

“I’m offering to teach you how to stretch properly, Benita.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You looked like you did the other day.”

“I’m fine.”

He stepped closer anyway.

I felt him stop right behind me while I was still bent forward.

“You’re too stiff here,” he said.

His hands settled on my hips.

“You have to move farther back. Like this.”

He pulled my hips toward him in one firm motion.

The hard length of his c0ck pressed against my ass through the thin leggings.

“Mark—”

“Further back,” he said again, voice calm. “You’ll feel the stretch better this way.”

His other hand slid around my hip and down, settling between my legs.

“Mark!” I yelped.

“Quiet. You’ll wake the whole street.”

“There’s no one else here.”

“Exactly.”

His fingers rubbed me slowly through the leggings while he kept my hips pulled tight against him.

I could feel every inch of how hard he was.

“You’ve been thinking about earlier all day, haven’t you?” he asked.

I didn’t reply him.

“I know you have. The same way I've been thinking about how your n!pple felt in my mouth.”

“Stop.”

“Tell me to stop and mean it.”

His fingers kept moving, pressing and circling through the fabric until my legs started to feel unsteady.

“You’re already wet?” he muttered.

“That’s not...”

“Don’t lie. Not after everything.”

He leaned over me a little more, chest against my back, cock still pressed firm against my ass while his hand worked between my legs.

“You ran earlier,” he said quietly. “But you didn’t run because you didn’t want it. You ran because you did.”

I stayed bent over the mat with his hand on me and no good answer coming out of my mouth.