Tamed by Stepdaddy

I stumbled through the front door, a bit drunk but still trying to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want to wake up my Step-Dad. He'd told me to be home by 9 which was stupidly early, so I'd ignored him. It was now 11:55. I didn't want him to know that I'd disobeyed him so I needed to get into bed without waking him up.

As I closed the front door, I heard a noise from the living room. I cursed under my breath, realizing that I had been caught. When I peeked inside, I saw my Step-Dad sitting in his armchair, his arms folded over his chest. His eyes bore into mine, and I could tell by his expression that he was not happy with me.

"You're back late," he growled.

"Soz, lost track of time," I said with a little shrug to show that it wasn't a big deal. My mom and gone away to China on a work trip and wouldn't be back for 3 months. She'd only be gone a week and he was already getting on my nerves.

"That's not good enough, Katie. That's not good enough at all. Sit down, I think it's time we had a chat about your blasé attitude to my authority," he said, pointing at the sofa.

I couldn't stop the laugh that came tumbling out of my mouth. "I'm 18 years old, Rick, and you're not my dad. I'm going to bed."

My Step-Dad stood up, his imposing figure looming over me. "Just because I'm not your real father doesn't mean I don't have authority in this house. You're living under my roof, and you will abide by my rules."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said, turning to leave.

Before I could reach the stairs he was on his feet, his hand closing around my wrist. His grip was tight, and I could feel his strength bearing on me. "This is my house you're living in and I am going to teach you some respect no matter what it takes," he said, snarling.

A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity in his voice. I tried to pull my wrist free but it only made him grip tighter. "What are you doing?" I yelled.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Since you like to disobey me so much, maybe I should punish you the way you deserve."

"I'm not a fucking child, Rick! I'm 18 years old!" I yelled as he dragged me into the living room.

"You may be 18, but you're still living under my roof and you'll follow my rules or face the consequences," he said, his voice low and commanding. I could feel his breath on my face, and I was unnerved by the intensity of his gaze.

He pushed me down until I was sitting on the sofa and then he stood in front of me, forcing me to look up into his commanding gaze.

"Now, I'm going to give you one chance to apologize to me and promise you will show me the appropriate respect, and we can call it a night. No punishment needed."

But I was used to getting my own way and I wasn't about to back down now. "I'm not apologizing for shit, you're not my dad," I retorted, my eyes blazing with anger.

My stepdad's jaw clenched at my words, and suddenly I was being pulled up off the sofa and back to my feet. I glared up at him, but there was something about the way he was looking at me that made me uneasy.

"If you were my daughter I would have raised you better. I certainly wouldn't have allowed you to go out dressed like a slut," he said, his eyes roving over my dress.

The words hit me hard, and I suddenly felt self-conscious about the way I was dressed. I was wearing a tight mini-dress that accentuated my curves and showed off my legs. I suddenly became aware of how exposed I was feeling in front of him.

"I'm not dressed like a slut," I protested, my cheeks turning pink in embarrassment. "I can wear whatever I want."

My heart was pounding in my chest as he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to touch my dress. "This dress is too revealing. It shows off too much of your body and it's not appropriate for a young lady like you."

I bristled at his words, my anger flaring up once more. "I don't care what you think. It's none of your business."

My breath caught in my throat as he leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "If you're under my roof then it is my business. I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget," he whispered.

He sat down on the sofa and before I could even protest he yanked on my arm and dragged me over his knee.

"Rick, stop!" I shouted, my face burning in embarrassment as he yanked my dress up over my back and exposed my bottom.

"Good lord, you're even wearing a thong. Have you no class at all?"

I tried to struggle, to push myself up off his lap, but he was too strong. He held me firmly in place and I was powerless to move. Tears pricked at my eyes as his hand met my exposed backside, the stinging pain quickly leaving a rosy blush on my skin.

"Rick you can't do this to me!"

"You will call me Sir!" he yelled as his hand came down again.

"Rick, stop!" There was no way in hell I was ever going to call him sir.

The spanks kept coming, harder and harder with each one stinging my skin. I bit my lip to keep from crying, but eventually, the tears burst through. I felt embarrassed and ashamed and humiliated, and yet there was an oddly familiar warmth radiating from between my legs. Despite what was happening I was becoming turned on.

My head felt dizzy and my heart was pounding in my chest. I was scared and aroused and I couldn't believe what was happening. Eventually, Rick stopped, his hand resting heavily on my still-tingling bottom. My face was wet from my tears and I was shaking, my body and mind reeling from the spanking.

"Is there anything you'd like to say?" he asked. His voice was gentle, but his hand was tensed, ready to resume my punishment.

I gritted my teeth, barely able to push the words out past my lips. "I'm sorry...Sir."

"Good." His hand moved from my backside and stroked my hair gently. I closed my eyes, savoring the unexpected tenderness. "See, you can be polite and respectful. It's just a shame I had to punish you first."

As he spoke I could feel a hardness pressing against me and I realized that he was getting turned on too. My breath caught in my throat and I didn't dare move.

"Now, I don't think it's appropriate for a young lady to wear things like this." He slipped his finger beneath the string of my thong, momentarily brushing my asshole, as he pinged it against my skin.

I gasped, my body trembling from the unexpected sensation. Adrenaline and arousal surged through me and I suddenly felt extremely wet between my legs. My heart was pounding in my chest and my whole body felt electric. I was scared but something deep within me was intrigued, and before I could stop myself I heard myself say, "Yes, you're right."

He looked down at me, victory written across his face. Then he nodded calmly. "Shall we take it off then?"

"I'll go upstairs and change," I said timidly, not wanting to undress in front of him.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, we'll take it off here."

My cheeks burned as I reluctantly nodded and looked back down at the floor. I trembled as he peeled the fabric off of me, pulling my thong down my legs and dropping it on the floor. I inhaled sharply as his hands touched my ass and I could feel myself getting more turned on.

I caressed my cheeks gently, kneading and massaging my flesh, soothing me after the punishment I'd endured at his hands. He took hold of my thighs and gently parted my legs, baring my most intimate parts for him. I don't know what came over me but suddenly all I could feel was him. His strong, commanding presence had left me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I was aware that I was completely helpless, unable to escape.

"You dressed like a slut tonight didn't you?" he asked.

I was about to argue when I felt his finger touch my pussy, feeling the moisture that he'd created. The wetness that betrayed me. I couldn't deny it. I liked the way it made me feel, the power that had taken over from wearing something so daring. I nodded slowly, warmth spreading through my whole body as his finger rubbed my slit.

"Yes, Sir," I said, meekly. My cheeks still on fire.

"You know what that means don't you?"

I shook my head. I knew what he meant but I did not want to say it aloud.

"Say it," he commanded, the hidden threat conveyed in his words.

"I'm a..." I found myself too ashamed to get the word out.

"Say. It."

"I'm a slut."

His finger slid inside me forcing a moan out of my lips. "Moaning like a slut," he said gleefully. I felt his cock reach full hardness beneath me.

I trembled, my inner walls clenching around his finger as my arousal mounted with every thrust. He pushed harder, his finger moving faster and faster. I felt pleasure radiating from his touch and I pushed against him to take it all. His free arm came up around me, pressing me against him as he drove his finger deeper and deeper. I clung to him, letting out a shuddering moan as satisfaction filled me.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his finger slowing down.

I shook my head and whimpered, my body greedy for more of him. I didn't know if it was just the alcohol talking, but I needed more.

"Why is that?" he asked. And I knew what he wanted me to say.

"Because I'm a slut," I said, shame creeping over me as my pussy exuded more juices.

"A filthy fucking slut," he said, his voice prickling with aggression.

"Yes, I'm a filthy fucking slut," I agreed.

Without warning he slipped in a second thick finger. I screamed out as a sudden wave of pleasure consumed me, my body quivering with pleasure and arousal. I felt his thumb pressing against my clit, making me tremble, as he thrust his fingers in and out of me.

"Ohhh," I cried.

"You love it you whore, you fucking love it," he said, sliding another finger in.

I could do nothing but nod and moan, and it felt like I was lost in a sea of utter ecstasy. I was a slut, and I liked it. He chuckled smugly as he watched me come apart under his hands. I couldn't take it anymore and I felt the inevitable climax begin to build within me. I could hear him groaning with pleasure as I shuddered with orgasmic bliss, my pussy gripping his fingers tightly as I came. Waves and waves of unrivaled bliss consumed me. Finally, after what felt like forever, my body stopped trembling and I slipped off his lap.

Kneeling on the floor I was slumped against his legs, my breathing still ragged. With my head resting on his knee, I saw his hard cock straining against his pants. It was both a terrifying sight and a hot one, but I didn't dare touch it. I simply stared.

He reached out and stroked my hair gently, giving me comfort after the confusing punishment I'd just been given.

"That was for being a naughty slut," he murmured. I nodded in agreement, barely able to move a muscle. "From now on, you will obey my rules and show me respect, won't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I replied, too exhausted to argue.

"Good girl. Now, go to bed and think about what you've learned today." He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the top of my head before he helped me to my feet.

I walked towards the bedroom with my mind spinning. I'd never felt more confused... and yet, I couldn't deny that I liked what he'd done. It had been both terrifying and exhilarating. I knew as I lay in bed that I'd never forget the punishment and pleasure of tonight. I'd been punished for being a brat, and I wondered if I was going to dare to break the rules again.

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