Madison’s Lesson: 2

Brett had to be interested, Madison had thought. She was just far too sexy for him to ignore. ‘Take me upstairs,’ she had said softly, invitingly. ‘You won’t regret it. I’m good at blowjobs…’

When Madison goes away with her stepfather Brett, she thinks it’ll be a fun weekend of spending her parent’s money and living in luxury. But Brett has other plans for Madison. He’s tired of her cruelty to her mother, and he’s determined to teach her a lesson. Besides, he’s lusted after her for years…

Madison’s Lesson: Chapter 2

[Madison’s Lesson contains non-consent erotica, fictional incest between adults, mind control, enslavement and forced breeding. All characters are fully fictional and over 18. Chapter 1 is here.]

Madison settled down next to her stepfather Brett on the couch, even though there were plenty of other seats available. She made sure to rub her breasts and hips against him.

‘I bet Mom never even arrives,’ Madison sneered, taking a dried grape and eating it with some cheese. ‘You know she can’t do anything on her own. But that wouldn’t be a disaster, would it?’ She winked at him, crossing her legs again and leaning back on the couch next to him. ‘But don’t think I’m offering you another blowjob. You had your chance.’

‘We’ll see,’ Brett said, unsmiling as he poured her a second glass of the wine.

Madison let her fingers touch his as she took it from him, casually meeting his eyes as she started to drink. Soon the drink was gone and Brett poured her a third glass. It was less alcoholic than his usual brew, she thought. She could hardly taste the alcohol at all, instead there was an odd bitter flavour. She guessed it was some weird traditional wine he had been experimenting with — elderberry or ginseng or goji berry or some other peculiar plant she had never heard of.

‘Dinner’s here,’ Brett said laconically, seeming to smile sideways at her. ‘Stand up and sit down at the table.’

Madison wondered at his odd expression as she stood and walked across to the table, but she discarded the thought as she dug into her food. Brett poured her a fourth glass of wine while she ate.

‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’ she asked, frowning at him. ‘The blowjob’s off. You had your chance. Don’t think making me tipsy will change my mind.’

‘I’m not trying to change your mind,’ Brett smiled at her. ‘Drink your wine, Madison darling. It’s good for you.’

She drank, almost compulsively she thought, puzzled again at his turn of phrase. Why had he ordered her to stand up and move to the table? Why had he told her to drink her wine?

But she dismissed the thought. She didn’t have much time to think about it anyway. Frustratingly for Madison, who liked to be waited on hand and foot, Brett spent the whole long dinner making her pass him things — the salt, the pepper, each of the dishes on the table at least once. He even told her to stand and fetch him a new fork from the kitchen after he dropped his own.

Madison obeyed him, which puzzled her.

‘It’s not my job to fetch you things,’ she grumbled at him, wondering why she hadn’t just refused. ‘Particularly when you can’t be bothered to say ‘please’.’

‘Get me a clean plate,’ Brett said, interrupting her to hand her his old plate. ‘Now, Madison.’

Stomping into the kitchen and dumping his dirty plate in the sink, Madison wondered all over again why she was obeying Brett. She wasn’t his servant. She glared at him as she set the new plate down in front of him, before settling back into her chair to drink her fifth glass of wine.

Brett had finished eating eventually and he leaned back in his chair, smiling at her.

‘That was delicious,’ he said. ‘I’m ready for an exciting evening. But you probably need to go to the bathroom after all that wine, don’t you, darling?’

Madison flushed, suddenly embarrassed. How could he mention something like that? Unfortunately, he was right. She did need to pee. Ruefully, she wondered how on earth she could have drunk that much. She didn’t feel tipsy but her mouth felt almost numb with the odd, bitter flavour in the drink. She knew she had drunk much more than she had eaten in the end, and her stomach churned oddly.

Brett winked at her, as if guessing how she felt. He leaned forward, filling her glass with the last of the second bottle, meeting her eyes calmly with his own.

‘Scull it,’ he said, the words clearly an order.

Refusal was on the tip of Madison’s tongue but for some reason, unknown to herself, she didn’t refuse. Instead, she picked up the glass and drank. She took a mouthful and then forced herself to keep drinking even though she was sick of the taste. Soon it was gone, and her head was spinning as the rich scent filled her mouth and nose.

‘Good girl,’ Brett said, taking the glass from Madison’s limp-feeling fingers. ‘Now go to the bathroom and pee. Meet me in the lounge when you’re done.’

Madison stood, realising she wasn’t drunk at all. Her head was spinning from the richness of the drink, but it really hadn’t been that alcoholic. She trod the short path to the bathroom, wondering all over again at how oddly Brett was speaking to her. After his earlier silence in the car, it was even more odd.

She shrugged, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She looked the same as ever, she thought, her lips a little darker from the reddish wine. She tugged her top down slightly so that her breasts were even more on display, and she touched up her lipstick, emphasising how big and luscious her lips were.

She decided to be sexy and defiant. Brett could look at her the rest of the evening, knowing he wasn’t allowed to touch her. That would teach him for behaving strangely, for ordering her to the bathroom as if she was a child, she thought savagely.

Madison stepped back into the lounge, meeting Brett’s eyes easily and smiling flirtatiously at him. She lifted her arms above her head and sighed theatrically, knowing it would show off her midriff, and emphasise all over again how much of her thighs were on display and how wide apart her legs were right now in the fake casual stance.

Brett met her eyes coolly, and Madison flushed at the sheer lack of interest in them.

‘You’re such a stupid slut,’ he said coldly. ‘I think it’s time I taught you a lesson. Sit down on that chair.’

The words hit Madison like a hammer and she reeled internally, suddenly unsure. She looked at the chair he was gesturing towards — a chair from the dining room, set up oddly to face directly at where Brett was himself sitting on a comfortable lounge chair.

‘Why would I sit there?’ Madison asked, determined to stalk across the lounge and punish Brett for his odd behaviour by sitting as far away from him as possible.

‘Because I told you to,’ Brett answered Madison’s question, looking at her without smiling.

That makes no sense, Madison thought, defying Brett by setting a course for the far side of the lounge room.Her legs had other ideas though, as they directed her towards the dining chair. Soon, puzzled, she was sitting facing him.

As she settled into the dining chair, Madison felt suddenly even more unsettled and unsure. What was happening? Why had Brett called her a ‘stupid slut’? And why did she keep doing things he told her to do?

Please follow me for more stories! In the real world, remember to always play safely and practise positive, informed and enthusiastic consent that is respectful of all genders.

It’s not a manifesto

I write a lot of M/f non-consent erotica, including enslavement of women, degradation and forced breeding. They are not an expression of how the world should be. Everything I write should stay in the hot world of fiction and play. It should absolutely not become part of the real world.

Pixie Isobella