All Chapters of WET and Ruined( collection of short sweet stories) : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The living room was dimly lit by the glow of the massive TV screen. It was our usual Friday family movie night, and Mom and Dad had already claimed the long sofa, snacks in hand, completely absorbed in the opening scenes of the new horror thriller. The volume was turned up high — perfect for covering any noises. I had come home for the weekend from college, wearing my favorite thin pink pajama shorts and a loose tank top with no bra. I thought I’d just cuddle under a blanket and relax. I was wrong. Kai, my 22-year-old stepbrother, was already sprawled on the big sectional couch in the corner. His muscular, tattooed arms were stretched along the backrest, and those dark eyes locked onto me the second I walked in. “Come sit with me, Nini,” he said casually, lifting the huge fluffy duvet he was under. I hesitated for half a second, but the way his gaze dragged down my body made heat pool between my thighs. I slid under the blanket beside him. Almost immediately, his strong arm wra

I was already soaked before we even started. At nineteen, I told Mom I wanted better curves. Stepdaddy — Coach Derek — offered to train me personally at his busy downtown gym. I wore my tightest black gym leggings and a cropped sports bra, my long hair in a high ponytail. The gym was packed with people grunting through their evening workouts, weights clanging, music thumping. No one knew he was my stepfather. To them, I was just another client. But the moment Derek put his big hands on my waist to “correct my form,” my pussy clenched hard. Every exercise made it worse. Squats? His thick bulge pressed against my ass from behind as he spotted me. Lunges? His fingers brushed dangerously close to my inner thighs. Deadlifts? I could feel his 11-inch monster twitching in his shorts every time I bent over. By the time we moved to the mat area for core work, my leggings had a visible wet spot between my thighs. “Lie down, Cici,” Derek said loudly, professional voice only. “We’ll

Selena’s POVThe drive up the mountain had been silent and tense. I sat in the passenger seat with my arms crossed, staring out the window at the thick pine trees while my stepdad Victor gripped the steering wheel like he wanted to snap it. Thirty-eight years old, built like a lumberjack who lifted weights in his spare time — broad shoulders, thick arms covered in dark tattoos, and a permanent scowl that made my stomach flip for reasons I refused to admit.“You’ve disappointed me for the last time, Selena,” he said, voice low and dangerous as the luxury SUV bounced along the dirt road. “Failing college. Partying. Lying. This ends now.”“I’m eighteen,” I muttered. “You’re not even my real dad.”He let out a dark laugh. “That’s right. I’m not. Which means I don’t have to hold back anymore.”He snarled…Stepdaddy…. I whispered… as The remote cabin finally came into view — a big, modern two-story building with huge windows overlooking the valley. No neighbors for miles. No cell service.

Selena’s POVI was still lying on the carpet, covered in Victor’s thick cum, my red tits heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My pussy and asshole throbbed from the brutal fucking he had just given me. I thought he might give me a break.I was wrong.Victor stood up, his muscular body glistening with sweat, cock still semi-hard and glistening. He walked over to a tall wooden locker in the corner of the cabin — one I hadn’t noticed before. When he opened it, my eyes widened. Inside was a collection of toys: vibrators, plugs, ropes, paddles… everything a dominant man like him would need to completely break a naughty eighteen-year-old stepdaughter.He pulled out a thick, realistic vibrating dildo — easily nine inches long and girthy, with a powerful base. Without a word, he knelt between my spread legs, pressed the fat head against my cum-slick pussy, and shoved it in deep in one smooth thrust.“Ahhh—!” I cried out as it stretched me full again.Victor flicked the switch. The dildo roa

Liora’s POVI stood naked on the auction block, wrists bound in golden chains, my body oiled and glistening under the harsh lights of the royal slave market. Nineteen years old, captured from my village during the border raids, and now reduced to this — a piece of meat for the highest bidder.The crowd murmured as the auctioneer listed my “qualities.” Virgin. Tight. Fertile. Defiant.Then he entered.King Darius.Twenty-eight years old, tall and broad-shouldered, with a muscular frame wrapped in a black royal tunic that strained against his powerful chest. His dark hair was cropped short, his jaw sharp, and his eyes — cold, calculating, and hungry — locked onto me like I already belonged to him.“Five hundred million dollars ,” he said, voice deep and final. No one dared bid against the King.I was sold.Two hours later, I was on my knees in his opulent chambers inside the modern royal palace. Marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering capital city, and a mas