Chapter 16 – Leslie
Idesperately needed to come. But when I got back to my dorm room, stripped down to my underwear and lay on my bed, something stopped me from reaching under my panties and touching my clit.
I’d always been too embarrassed to touch my clit without underwear on, even by myself when I knew no one would see me, and I couldn’t seem to rid myself of that silly embarrassment now. I also couldn’t bring myself to get myself off. It was like Mason’s order had latched onto my brain and I had no choice but to listen to him.
My only class today had been our lit class. Afterwards, I’d gone to the dance studio to try and work out some of my frustration. After an hour of pushing my body to extremes, I was no less frustrated. My body burned, my panties were soaked, and I needed to come so bad I wanted to scream. My clit physically hurt.
Who the hell cared about Mason’s demand? I needed to get myself off.
The second my fingers touched my clit, I convulsed in an orgasm. Everything tightened and released so quickly I was worried. But when I was done, the relief wasn’t there. In fact, it only got worse.
I started rubbing my pussy—direct contact this time—needing to get off again and for the desperate desire to go away. There was something freeing about my desperation; I needed another orgasm so badly, my shame about taking pleasure in my own body no longer mattered. If I’d been fully coherent, I would’ve marveled over it, maybe celebrated it. But the desire was too overwhelming. And every time I got myself off, I just needed more, and more.
After what felt like hours, I ended up curled into a ball on the bed in tears, my hand between my legs, completely raw. My pussy walls clenched around nothing. I needed more than an orgasm, I needed human contact. Connection. And as scared as I was, there was only one person I wanted it from.
Someone knocked on my door.
Oh god, what if it was Chris?
The knock came again. “Butterfly,” Mason called.
Relief filled me. I’d felt so empty. But he. Was. Here. I’d needed him, and he’d come. I went to unlock the door, uncaring about my nudity. There he stood in jeans and a sweaty t-shirt. He smelled musky and filthy and I wanted him all over me.
He growled but gently guided me back into my room and away from prying eyes, shutting the door.
“How are you doing, butterfly?” he asked, his voice tender.
“I need you,” I cried.
“Yeah?” He stepped into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. An alarm bell sounded in my brain, but it felt dreamlike and far away, especially once he backed me up against the bed like he had that first day.
Except this time I wasn’t confused, or ashamed.
This time, I didn’t doubt myself.
This time, I could admit how badly I wanted him.
“You need Daddy, butterfly? Need him to make you feel all better?”
Suspicion made its way through my sex-soaked, horny-blurry brain.
“How did you know that?”
“Because I know everything that goes on with my pussy,” he said. “I especially know when she needs her Daddy.”
Each time he called himself Daddy, my thighs clenched. He’d called himself Daddy before, and my body loved it as much now as it had then. I didn’t know why I liked it, and I was too horny, too desperate, to care.
His eyes swept my bare torso and lace encased breasts and sex. I was wearing a sheer bralette, and my nipples showed through it. His eyes went dark with lust. He’d seen me naked before, but this was different—we weren’t surrounded by his asshole friends and I wasn’t angry or humiliated.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he said fiercely. “More perfect than I could have even imagined.”
Then, before I could protest—not that I would at this point—he lifted me up onto bed, placing me carefully on the center before climbing up next to me.
“I want to defile your sweet body,” he told me, “but you’re a virgin so I’m going to take it easy on you.”
“Please,” I begged him, uncaring anymore what our history was, or how mean he’d been to me, or how wrong this was. “Just make the pain go away.”
He shushed me. “Of course, butterfly. Daddy will make it all better.”
And then he parted my legs, pulled my panties off my writhing body, placed my feet on his shoulders, and leaned down to stare at my pussy.
“God.” He breathed me in. If I’d been in any other state of mind, I’d be self-conscious. Instead, I cried out. “I knew you’d be beautiful, but I had no idea you’d be this beautiful, Leslie.”
He placed a gentle kiss above my clit. I squirmed, and he smacked my thigh in reprimand.
“Still,” he commanded, holding my hips tight with his big hands so I couldn’t move around. It made it all the more intense when he licked from the bottom of my slit to the top of my clit.
And then he licked again.
And again.
Heat flooded me, and I started saying nonsensical things, silly sounds broken up by his name, especially when he stuck his tongue in my pussy and began to truly eat me out.
“Mason!” I cried.
“You don’t call me Mason,” he growled, making that Pavlovian response go off again. “You call me Daddy when we’re in bed, butterfly.”
“Daddy,” I cried, not caring that I was giving in so easily. I needed him too badly.
In reward, he licked, sucked, and bit until I screamed as I came again, and again, and again.
It was better, but it still wasn’t what I needed.
“Please, please, please,” I begged him.
“What do you call me?” His mouth was covered in my juices.
“Please, Daddy, I need…”
“Shh, butterfly. I know exactly what you need. You need Daddy’s big cock, don’t you? Need it to stuff you full and fill you up with his come? Don’t worry, it’ll happen, but first you have to give Daddy a little something.”
Picking me back up, he deposited me on the floor. I stumbled, and he caught me.
“Time to get out of this bra,” he mused, peeling it off me and dropping it on the floor. And his face changed to something so terrifyingly animalistic, I should’ve run. Instead, I whimpered.
“Yes,” he snarled. “There are those perfect little tits. Look at how hard and red your nipples are. They want me just as badly as your sweet little pussy does, don’t they, butterfly?”
“Yes, yes,” I cried, and he pinched them tight, making me orgasm again on shaky legs.
Before I’d had time to calm down, he dropped a pillow on the floor and pushed me to my knees.
As he pulled down his shorts, I stared. He wasn’t wearing boxers underneath, and his cock was hard and huge. I’d never seen a cock before, much less his. It was easily eight, maybe nine inches, and almost as thick as my wrist. It wept at the almost purple tip.
“Kiss it,” he ordered, and even though I suddenly felt shy, I did.
He groaned.
“Put your mouth around it, baby,” he crooned, and curious, I did, giving it an experimental suck.
“Yes, fuck, yes. More. Wrap your lips around my cock and bob your head. Watch your teeth.”
I did what he told me to, getting used to the way my mouth had to stretch around his girth, careful to keep my teeth away from his velvet hard length, licking him up and down as I tried bobbing and sucking.
He thrust his hips forward suddenly, his cock filling my airway passage, and I briefly choked.
“I’m sorry, butterfly, I’m sorry,” he apologized, brushing my hair back from my face and gathering it into a ponytail. “Daddy doesn’t want to hurt you, but he needs to feel that tight little throat swallow around his fat cock. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded, my mouth still full of him. Slowly, he pushed forward, his grip on my hair tightening. He hit the back of my throat and I panicked, pushing at his legs.
“Shh, shhh, you’re okay,” he crooned. “Breathe in through your nose. That’s it. Just a little bit further.”
He kept pushing until he slipped into my throat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted. “Daddy’s going to come down this little throat, and then Daddy’s going to get hard again and come in his virgin pussy.”
Distantly, I realized he’d claimed ownership over my pussy again. Over me. But this time?
This time I wanted it. I hummed my agreement, and he groaned.
“I’m going to start fucking this throat and I want you to start rubbing that little clit for me at the same time. You’re going to come when I do, butterfly.”
I touched myself like he told me to. I was so much wetter than I’d been, and I cried out at the feel of my fingers, moaning around his cock.
“Fuuuuuck,” he growled, and there went that response again, because at that growl, I came with a cry—and so did he, shooting his come deep down my throat and into my belly.
He withdrew, caressing my head as he did.
“Good, good girl,” he said with a groan, lifting me up off the floor and sitting further back on my bed, cradling me in his lap. “You were so good to take me so deep.” He caressed my hair, sighing. He was still hard under my ass, and I wiggled around on top of him.
He laughed. “I’m hurting almost as much as you are, butterfly. But let’s catch our breath for a second. I need to hold you.”
He kissed my forehead, humming something familiar. The mystery of the tune grounded me, helping me find some sliver of sanity among the wreckage of my desire.
Was he singing Mulan?
“Did you learn Disney for me?” I asked, shock making me forget my lust for a second.
He kissed my forehead again, nuzzling my hair. “Butterfly, I’d learn how to pilot a rocket ship, if I thought it would make you happy.”
Even in my sex-haze, the sweetness of his words hit their target: my heart. I melted against him, trailing small, soft kisses across his neck and chest before burrowing into him.
“I mean it,” he added.
“I believe you,” I sighed.
We were quiet for a bit as he held me, but the sex-haze was too powerful, and I began to squirm. As nice as this was, the lust that had been temporarily banked roared back with a rage, and I needed him.
“That bad still, huh?” he murmured. “Okay, butterfly. It’s time.”
“Thank god,” I gasped, and he laughed again, kissing my hair.
Laying me back on the bed, he kneeled in front of me and spread my thighs, grabbing
his cock with one hand and lining it up with my wet and aching pussy.
“No going back after this,” he warned me as he stroked my clit with his cock, making me writhe underneath him.
“Please, Mason…”
“What do you call me?” he growled.
“Please, Daddy, I need you.”
“I know, baby. Daddy needs you, too. Daddy’s needed you for a long, long time, and now he finally has you. Now, you’re finally his.”
And with that, he began to push his way into my pussy. I was so wet that it eased his path, but I was a virgin, and tight, and the stretch hurt. Having someone inside of me felt invasive and strange; having my stepbrother’s cock inside me as he stared deep into my eyes was a revelation.
“You feel so fucking good,” he told me, his eyes deep. “This sweet little pussy was made for Daddy, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I agreed, moaning in the back of my throat as he kept pushing into me until he paused.
“Are you all the way in?”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss my lips. “Not even close.”
And with that, he pulled his hips back and thrust hard. I screamed as this time, he bottomed out inside me.
“Shh, butterfly, shh,” he murmured, rubbing circles on my clit until I relaxed and blossomed under him. It felt so good, having him deep inside me, touching me, filling me and surrounding me. I’d never felt so turned on—or so cared for in my life, and if I weren’t so consumed by him and by sex, I’d question the fact that it was my greatest tormentor who had somehow become my safest place to land.
Once I began moaning again, he began circling his hips, around and around, stirring something inside of me and making me tighten even more.
“Daddy,” I gasped.
“Good, butterfly?”
“So good.”
Taking that, he began thrusting in and out of me, slow and deep, building up a pace. He kept angling and reangling his hips, obviously looking for something until?—
“Oh!” I cried out. He’d rubbed up something deep inside of me that made shivers wrack my whole body, it felt so good. It set off whatever had made me feel so desperate in the first place, and I felt my core tighten as I spiraled closer to orgasm again.
“No you don’t,” he said darkly. “You don’t come this time until I do, or you’ll take me over with you. Daddy’s just getting started.”
With that, he began to play with my clit, drawing small, barely there circles, holding my hip tight with his other hand as he shoved faster and harder into me, moving me up the bed with his thrusts.
“Daddy, I can’t, I need to?—”
“Not yet,” he ordered. “You can wait. Fuck, I’m so close.” He slowed down, stirring his hips again, making me desperate and terrified that he’d never come—and never let me come, either.
“Please, please Daddy, please, please, please,” I begged. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” his eyes flashed, and I felt like I was signing my soul over to the devil—but I didn’t care.
“Anything,” I promised.
“My good little butterfly,” he groaned, pumping his hips again, fast and hard. I was screaming at this point, and the whole dorm could probably hear me, and I didn’t care. “Daddy’s conquered this pussy, hasn’t he? Permanently claimed what was always his. I’m going to come and fill you up and stuff you full, aren’t I? Tell Daddy you want him to treat you like his perfect little cumdumpster.”
The words should have shamed me, but instead they set some deep, secret part of me free.
“Daddy, I want you to treat me like your perfect little cumdumpster, please fill me up, Daddy, please?—”
“FUUUUUUUUUUCK!” he pumped his hips inside me in uncontrolled movement, and I felt jet after jet of his seed fill me up. He pinched my clit once—tight and fast, and with one final scream, I orgasmed right after him, blacking out from the overwhelming pleasure.
When I came to, he was still inside me, but he was holding me on his lap, kissing my neck and stroking my hair as he hummed again. His cock was still hard. Waves of aftershocks moved through me, and I clenched around him.
“More?” he chuckled.
I could only moan in response.
“I know, baby, I know,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Let me hold you some more. I’ve wanted you in my arms for as long as I’ve known you, and I’m not passing up the chance now.”
He rocked me in his lap, humming again.
I’d learn how to pilot a rocket ship, if I thought it would make you happy.
The sweetness of his earlier confession settled in me. I, too, settled, this time against him, feeling safe and cared for for the first time in a very, very long time.
But soon I was grinding on top of him, a whine low in my throat. “Daddy?—”
“Yes, baby,” he crooned, lifting me up and lowering me onto his hard length. I felt full and sore and so, so right, even though a distant part of me was crying out that this was wrong, wrong, wrong.