Punishing the Brats

First Time for the Brat: Taboo Man of the House

8

Bratty Troublemaker

By Cecilia Lawrence

It was a pretentious office. Ostentatious in its appearance, but when you spent long periods of time actually using the red velvet chairs, it was hard to ignore the cheap nature of the wood and the poor craftsmanship. A windy prelude to the storm brought the shutters banging against the great window behind Principal Feak's desk. I sat in my favorite chair off to the side of the room while Feak pretended to look busy waiting for my parents to arrive. I watched his hand twitch over the brandy he'd so cleverly labelled 'burnt eniw', an effort no doubt to stop unattended student guzzling it, before what nerve he had brought his hand down on the crystalline decanter of whatever 100% pure spring water he imported these days. With a frustrated sigh he banged the desk and finally turned his attention to me.

"I suppose we should begin without them again." The elderly man hunched over my file and pushed his glasses so far up his crooked nose his magnified eyes looked like saucers. He cleared his throat,

"It would appear this time you've changed the settings on Ms. Rodenblut's phone to verbally remind her about her appointment to 'Get hammered wiv da gelz, then get hammered by-'" Mr. Feak entered a coughing fit as he read his own name.

"-meryes... and you set this alarm to go off every five minutes. And here Mr. Perry states you took his intricate classroom Gold clock and had it inscribed with 'Check out my big ass clock! What a shame about my tiny-'" Mr. Feak coughed once again, though I was proud to note a chocked snort of laughter tickling at him on this occasion.

"Yes quite amusing Ms. Winnow, but you see, Hartnell is not a school for japes and frivolity. How many times do we need to keep having this conversation? There's a limit to how much your stepfather can contribute to the school before we simply cannot allow you to stay, is that honestly what you want?" his voice curled the words up at the edges in sincere concern. I remained silent and impassive. Principal Feak threw my file down on his ornate desk with another defeated sigh.

"My dear, I'm afraid your position at Hartnell's is now under review. You are suspended until such time as I arrive at a decision. We will be calling your parents. You may go now."

It was a lot quieter at home. Three different walls separating me from the growing storm outside, but it was the lack of anyone else at home that added a hollow timbre to the echoing silence. I finished the lobster dinner I'd ordered, well as much as I felt like finishing and threw the rest out. I was about to head back to my room when I heard the front door close. I felt the fear and anticipation bubble up inside me, my slouch stiffening into the rigid posture my stepfather drilled into me. It had to be him, his solid footsteps echoing along the mahogany floor, each step driving my excitement and fear higher and deeper respectively. Closer, closer then he was right behind me.

"My little Gem." His voice, the soft, unrelenting resonance that bulldozed over scrambling thoughts and feelings sent the final a shock of fear and anticipation rippling down my back. I lived for this feeling. His hand fell on my shoulder, thick, meaty, stron

g. The grip put me in no doubt that his mood was worse than usual.

"We will have... words." His grip tightened and my mouth opened in silent objection. Before he turned and walked away. I felt the familiar thrill of my stepfather's authority burn through my now sensitive flesh. Then I left for my room.

That was it? No yelling, no rage, no nothing? My disappointment gathered up like aw eight in my stomach. I couldn't understand it, I wasn't stupid. I spent so much of my time pushing my stepfather in the hopes that he'd push back harder. My psych teacher would probably suggest it's my need as a teen to push and create new boundaries, or perhaps I'm acting out for the attention I don't get. All I knew was that this wasn't what I wanted. That's when I heard them, mom must be home, they were shouting.

"Well I'm fucken sorry Frank, I'm sho shorry I'm BARREN!" I could hear mom roaring her words in her drunken slur. This was a new development though. Mom was barren?

"Do you WANT our daughter to hear?" Frank's voice had reached that edge, the iron of rage tempered through cool, rational thought. The argument choked out, though probably more to do with my mother's usual drunken incapacity rather than any serious concern over her. I stepped out of my room into the hall. I felt a little exposed wearing my black panties and grey camisole but at the same time thrilled. There was Frank, tie half undone and hand over his stern set jaw. He was so tall, so strong, so handsome. I felt a vile thrill churn inside me, bubbling up my throat and I felt the words tear from me.

"What's the matter daddy? Not spending enough money to get mommy to keep sleeping with you? Can't get it up anymore? Can't-" My stepfather launched across the room, his face no longer the usual study in impassive contempt. His hand grabbed at me and I was pulled into his room. I felt the excitement run through me at his rough touch. This was it, the world had slipped off its bearings and I had entered the dangerous unknown.

"I have tried-" his voice was even, but shaky. He pulled me down over his lap on his majestic poster bed.

"-to be a caring father." I hadn't dare hope for this reaction. He pulled my panties down.

"Wearing this around the house..." he muttered, then I felt the sudden shock rush through me as my body jolted at his hand smacking down against my ass.

"I've tried-" he smacked me again, the shock was fading and I could feel the pain burning now.

"- to provide-" smack, "-education-" smack, "-security-" smack, "-clothes-" smack, "fuck I've spent something over half a million at that fucking school just covering up after your fucking shit!" smack, smack, smack. I was feeling it now, tears were welling up in my eyes, but they wouldn't flow. The burning sensation in my ass was tempered with an intense pressure growing in my hips. This is what I'd wanted, I'd never known, but this feeling. I was getting spanked by my stepfather and it turned me on. With every smack breaking across my sensitive flesh, I could feel the dominant aura forcing itself into me, onto me, my little yips of pain were disappearing, I had to bite my lip to hold back moans. I squirmed, my thighs rubbing together while the heat spread, a wetness growing that felt just so right that it flooded my mind drifting above the pain. The soaring giddy fog of concentrated bliss started pouring into me, slowly dropping my consciousness into dull pleasure, while my body flinched and twitched its way higher and higher on a crest of pleasure that I couldn't handle. Surely he could smell me. I'd never been this wet before. It pleasure grew too much, like a balloon expanding beyond the constraints of my body to hold and it poured out in a growl. I moaned out loud as the next smack came down.

"The fuck? Are you getting off on this? The fuck is wrong with you?" The words twisted the pleasure in me and I could feel my mind starting to come apart at the seams. I was a whore, a slut, I got turned on by my fucking stepfather, the man who used to bounce me on his knees. I got turned on by him spanking me. That was when I felt it, even in my drunk haze I could feel a hardness pressing up against my belly. He was hard for me. I felt pride, pride that I, a girl, the man's stepdaughter had gripped this man in a sexual way. He wanted me. He wanted to fuck me.

"You fucking slut." The words hurt more than the spanking did, the words excited me more than the spanking did. I was aching for him, I wanted him more than I wanted the oxygen around me. The world around me shifted, I knew I was being moved but my senses were flooded and it took me a while to realize my burning ass was on the bed. I looked down to see my stepfather looking at me, his emerald gaze, filled with equal parts rage and hunger kept me pinned to the bed. Then I felt his big warm hands on my legs and I shuddered, my skin flinched at his touch. I shivered with anticipation as I watched him come closer, then I spread my legs.

My stepfather was between my legs, his lips kissing down my legs. It was forceful, it was bestial, his hand gripped my leg like a slave's anklet. Rather than scare me, it made me feel secure, it made me feel owned. His hands on my skin, his lips mashing against me, closer and closer, I rocked my hips up in response. My wanton instinctively craved more. This was beyond any experience I'd ever had before, no one had touched me, no one had been with me. I'd thought about what it might feel like to have someone pleasure me, but nothing compared with the feeling of my stepfathers tongue finally coming to run between my smooth slick folds. I long, high mewl of pleasure trilled out of me, my head thrown back while he lapped at my leaking pussy.

His fingers gripped into me, pawing at my skin. Hot breath, slick tongue working into me, running up through my folds up to my clit. My hips jerked up off the bed mashing my lips against his. Then he forcefully shoved my ass back down into the bed, the pleasurable pain from the spanking flaring up again as I made contact.

"Oh my god, oh my god, fucking oh my god!" I mewled nonsense into the air. It was too much, I was frightened now, very frightened, this was more than I'd ever felt and it was scary, soaring so high I was frightened of the coming fall. Then my stepfather sucked on my clit. I came. Hard. My pussy clamped down around nothing, my body shuddering in paroxysms of pleasure, rippling off the bed up into the air like a flag in storm. A long loud moan that I was sure mom would hear if she wasn't probably in a drunken sleep in the other room. I reached down with my hands trying to ease him up off of me, it was too intense. Then I relaxed, my body flapping back down into the bed. My eyes rolled back into my head as I tried to process the sensations. My legs quivered, thighs gripping his head. My chest heaved, hard nipples rubbing so rightly against my camisole with small peaks of pleasure turning over the gears of euphoria shooting through me. My body ached with the strain and even as I relaxed the exhaustion weighed down on me, holding my sore ass to the bed.

I looked down, only my eyes moving to read my stepfather. He huffed, standing up erection jutting against his pants. His eyes had lost their fog and a sense of horror dawned across his face.

"What the fuck have I done?" His stern face crumpled in a mess of anger and anguish. He lashed out, kicking his suitcase across the room. He wouldn't look at me, couldn't look at me, then he left the room, slamming the door behind him. I wanted to react, wanted to do or say something but I was too far gone. Sleep pulled at my eyelids and drew me down into its deep bliss.