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Chapter 2
Maryjane Lyons-Davis drove toward home with a weary, aching body. Thank
heavens it's Friday, she thought dully as she sighed deeply. She thought
of the dinner Jennifer would have waiting for her. Her daughter was a
marvelous cook for her age, and with her mom working in the factory so
hard and long, she needed all the help she could get.
As she had so often these past weeks, she thought of her situation with
more than a tinge of bitterness. After ten years moving up the ladder in
a large corporation, a buyout had reduced her to the unemployment line.
New jobs were difficult to find. In the end, she'd had to take work on a
factory line just to keep a roof overhead. She had married John Davis
when it was clear that the factory job alone would not maintain a
standard of living for her and Jennifer. She'd been seeing John for some
time, and although she enjoyed his company, she knew that she would not
have agreed to marriage quite yet if she'd been able to pay the bills.
Maryjane frowned slightly. John seemed different since they'd married.
He was harsher, more demanding than he had been. Or perhaps she'd just
overlooked his rough edges. Their relationship to this point, she had to
admit to herself, had been mostly physical. He had a marvelous cock, and
he knew how to use it. She even found herself enjoying the games he
liked to play, games she would never have thought she would consent to.
But even now, tired as she was, she got a tingly thrill thinking of
lying spread-eagled on the bed, bound to the four corners while he
teased her just at the edge of pain.
The woman shook her head. Thirty-two years old, and she was still
behaving like a star-struck teenager in many ways. Well, that wasn't all
bad, she thought. But still, since she had married John, the games had
changed somehow. The intensity was increasing. Twice in the last week
she'd had to ask him to stop pinching her nipples, because it hurt too
much. Ask, hell...he made her beg. Made her promise to reward him if he
would stop. He never used to hurt her at all.
Well, at least now she had a decent home for her daughter. She knew that
Jennifer didn't care for the boys, but that was to be expected. Jennifer
had never lived with a male before. Her father had died the night before
he and Maryjane were to have been married, when she was eighteen, just
three months into the pregnancy. He had gotten drunk at the bachelor
party, and been killed in a traffic accident that he had caused.
Barely out of childhood herself, Maryjane did her best to raise her
daughter, and was proud of her girl. She was pretty and intelligent. She
just wished she got along better with John's boys. Of course, Maryjane
knew the boys didn't make it easy for her. She knew they teased her.
She'd even caught them making sexual references to her, which
embarrassed Jennifer no end. She had spoken to John about it, but he
just said that boys will be boys.
Maryjane turned into the driveway and parked the car. Living in the
country was nice in many respects. She liked the quiet, being away from
the bustle of the city. She went into the house through the back door
that led directly to the kitchen and saw Jennifer there just finishing
setting the table. She was dressed in a halter-top and a skirt. The
older woman experienced a moment of mild distress that her daughter's
nipples poked clearly through the thin material, but she reminded
herself that her baby was growing up. Still, she told herself that she
would have to remind the girl about the importance of modesty as her
body continued to develop. She kissed the girl on the forehead.
"Hi honey, how was your day?" she said.
"Okay," Jennifer said quietly. Something about her voice made Maryjane
stop and take a closer look. Her face seemed flushed and her eyes
bloodshot.
"Are you all right honey? You look a little warm."
"She's fine," said John Davis, entering the kitchen. "Ain't ya, honey?"
He put his arm around her and patted the girl's rump.
Maryjane noticed that her daughter seemed to cringe, but then nodded,
looking at the floor. It seemed to the older woman that something was
left unsaid, and she knew it would be difficult getting it out of
Jennifer if she didn't want to say. She decided to ask John about it
later.
Dinner seemed oddly strained to the young mother. John talked normally,
but the boys were very quiet and kept looking furtively at one another
and at Jennifer, and smirking. Jennifer was totally absorbed in her
food, but seemed to shift a lot in her chair, as if she were sitting on
pins. Maryjane wondered about it, and decided she would ask Jennifer
after the dishes were done.
When dinner was finished and Jennifer started clearing the table, the
rest of the family went to the kitchen, except for Jason. "I think I'll
help Jenny with the dishes tonight," he announced. Maryjane was
surprised at this, but pleased too. Maybe the children were finally
warming up to one another, she thought. But she noticed that Jennifer
seemed to shudder, and continue to look at the floor.
As everyone else left the room, Jason, true to his word, took a stack of
dishes from the table to the sink, which Jennifer was filling with
water. Jason moved behind her, very close. Jennifer shivered as he
pushed his body up against her, trapping her against the counter. The
boy's arms snaked around the small girl and closed over her budding
breasts. She gasped and squirmed a little, but did not try to get away.
"That's right, little bitch," Jason whispered in her ear. "Just stand
there. Do the dishes. I'll just stay here and...keep you company." He
laughed softly again.
Jennifer was totally confused. She didn't know what to do. She felt her
nipples stiffening, and he pinched them firmly through the thin material
of her top. She wanted to scream, to run away. But she'd been promised
that if she didn't let them "punish" her as they saw fit, it would be
much worse for her. She tried to concentrate on just doing the dishes,
but the more he played with her breasts the more excited she could feel
her body becoming. She wondered what was wrong with her that being
treated like this would make her all itchy between her legs.
Jason fondled her breasts until the dishes were completely done, as well
as rubbing his crotch up against her ass. Finally, when she finished,
the girl turned slowly, still looking at the floor, Jason looked down at
her and grinned.
"Lift up your skirt," he said quietly. "Gotta make sure you ain't
cheating on us. No panties allowed until Monday."
Jennifer drew in a shuddering sigh, working hard not to break down
crying again. She knew she should do something; she shouldn't let them
order her around like this. It was evil, dirty. But she couldn't think
of anything to do except what they demanded. She lifted the hem of her
skirt, exposing her naked pussy to her stepbrother.
No sooner had she bared her sex than it was covered again, this time by
Jason's hand. Jennifer gasped sharply! It was the first time anyone had
directly touched her pussy besides herself! The feeling of his hand
there between her legs was humiliating, but strangely exciting. She was
already so worked up from having her breasts fondled for the last twenty
minutes, that she could hardly stand it.
"You little slut," Jason chuckled. "You're wet! You love this shit don't
ya?"
"N-no...please stop...I'm not wearing panties, I did what you asked."
But Jason kept feeling her, his fingers sliding up and down her wet
slit, teasing her clit, and probing the entrance to her tight virgin
cunt. Jennifer shivered, feeling herself get more and more excited,
leaning against the counter for support. She whimpered softly as his
finger circled her stiffening clit.
"Oh yeah, bitch," Jason whispered into her ear. "You love this shit.
Tight little prude like you don't wanna admit it, but your body's
tellin' me all I need to know."
Jennifer felt dizzy; the world was spinning around her. She realized he
was right, she was actually pushing her pussy forward, and her body was
going up and down. Jason was hardly moving his had at all anymore.
Without realizing it, she was working her own body, trying to get
herself off! What kind of pervert was she? He was assaulting her, and
she was acting as if she wanted more of it!
The young teen shook her head, riding his hand up and down, moaning
softly so her mother wouldn't hear. If her mother saw her acting like
this she didn't think she could take it. She tried to deny what she was
feeling, what she was doing, but it was impossible. She felt something
building inside her, something she couldn't resist. Gradually she was
spreading her legs wider, rolling her hips in circles...she was behaving
like the worst slut the confused young girl could imagine!
Suddenly she felt something release inside her...something horrible and
wonderful at the same time! She threw back her head and clapped a hand
over her mouth to keep from crying out in ecstasy. She thrust her pussy
wantonly against her stepbrother's hand, gasping for air, rising and
falling rapidly.
Warm fluids suddenly released from her body, soaking Jason's hand, and
Jennifer gritted her teeth as her body convulsed in paroxysms of
pleasure. She found herself beating a small fist against his chest in
her ecstasy, and clenching her thighs against the hand between them.
Finally the climax subsided, and Jennifer couldn't help but sag against
him. All the strength seemed to have left her body, and if he didn't
hold her up she would have collapsed to the floor.
Jennifer took deep, gasping breaths, leaning against Jason, who withdrew
his hand and laughed silently. "You little fucking slut," he taunted,
and Jennifer burned with shame.
She forced herself to stand upright and let her skirt drop down again,
and Jason took a step to the side. Just at that moment Maryjane entered
the kitchen. "How are you kids doing?" she said with a smile.
"Just fine mom," said Jason with a broad grin. He put a hand around
Jennifer's shoulder. Maryjane saw that his hand was wet, and assumed he
must have taken his turn washing the dishes. Jason grinned and rubbed
his wet hand over Jennifer's face. "We're having a lot of fun. Right
Jenny?"
Jennifer scrunched up her nose against Jason's hand. When he took it
away, she continued to smell the evidence of her own debasement. She had
acted like a slut, and she knew it. She felt more miserable than ever in
her young life, and wondered how much worse it could get. She didn't
think she could ever tell her mother what was happening now. How could
she explain getting orgasms under these conditions? Her mother would
hate her, she'd think she was a worthless whore.
Maryjane, meanwhile, smiled warmly. She saw Jason rub his wet hand
against her daughter's face, saw the cute way her daughter wrinkled up
her nose, and saw the antics of young teens acting perfectly normally.
She left the room, confident that Jennifer and the boys were finally
starting to get along. She would sleep easier tonight.