She tries to resist – but neither her body nor her will are a match for his lust and power.
Can Zoe deny her rising lust? Can he escape her evil tormentor? Or is it her destiny to become nothing more than his favourite fertile fucktoy?
Zoe’s New Stepbrother is now available as a novel!
Check it out at All These Roadworks!
Zoe’s New Stepbrother: Chapter 4
[Zoe’s New Stepbrother contains fictional stepbrother-stepsister incest, forced breeding, non-con sex and female submission to a male character. All characters are over 18. Read Chapter 1 here.]
I stepped through the ‘grand entry’ — on Zane’s arm, the arsehole — and into dinner in a haze, trying really hard not to think about anything.
Luckily, trapped as I was on the high table, I didn’t really have to talk. My job was to sit here between my new stepfather and my mother’s best friend — her other bridesmaid — and smile and look pretty while I ate my food.
Actually, all I could think was that I was really wet between my legs and without panties I really hoped I wasn’t going to leave a puddle anywhere.
‘Are you alright, Zoe?’ my stepfather asked once during dinner and I blinked at him owlishly.
‘I’m OK,’ I said, forcing myself to smile and be vaguely aware. ‘I’m just getting tired, that’s all.’
‘I think she’s fine,’ my mother said softly, meeting my eyes with understanding. ‘It’s been a long day, hasn’t it, darling?’
I nodded as I bit into my delicious chocolate sorbet dessert.
It had been a long day. At least Zane was seated down the other end of the long high table and couldn’t molest me during dinner or the speeches.
I knew I should hate him — dammit, he had groped and then raped me — but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About his rough voice and how he refused to let me say ‘no’. About his strong hands and how ruthlessly he had used his strength against me. About — gods help me — his huge dick inside me, rough and vicious as he took his pleasure even while I begged him to stop.
The orgasm had been one of the best I had ever had.
I felt myself blushing again as I remembered him cumming inside me. The arsehole. Fuck, I was going to have to get a morning after pill tomorrow, and I knew I would just want to sleep in after the late night.
Dammit, he was an arsehole. He had all but admitted that he had raped other women — was this his norm, drifting from social event to social event, fucking whichever woman he chose in the back rooms, telling her to be silent and not protest? I flushed again as I realised that it worked — no-one wanted that kind of attention at a big social gathering.
My stepfather led my mother out onto the dancefloor and I watched absent minded, unable to stop thinking about Zane. Of course, I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings.
‘I think this is my dance.’
Of course, it was Zane.
I shuddered as I felt his arm sliding arrogantly around my waist without asking, holding me tightly against him.
‘No, wait,’ I murmured. ‘Stop,’ I hissed. But he had already pulled me onto the dark dancefloor, lit only by strobing lights.
Zane’s hands were all over me, holding me firmly against him as we moved.
‘Stop it, I don’t want to dance,’ I muttered, trying to push him away.
He just snorted and held me closer. ‘You’re a sweet armful, little Z, even if you do complain a lot,’ he said into my ear, still using the atrocious nickname he had apparently made up just for me. ‘Don’t think I’m done with you yet, my girl. I’ve got at least one more package to dump inside you tonight.’
I almost shrieked, though I couldn’t tell whether it was from the crude threat or from his thumb, insolently caressing my nipple through my dress.
‘You’re not fucking me again,’ I snapped, flushing furiously as I felt him laughing at me. I couldn’t believe we were even talking about this.
‘How do you propose to stop me, little Z?’ he asked, still laughing. ‘I’m stronger than you and I know how this game is played. And you don’t,’ he continued, as if it was obvious. ‘You’ll be bent forward for me to fuck before midnight, darling.’
‘I won’t,’ I hissed, wishing he would stop groping me — his arm and hand around my waist were far too tight and his other hand had moved inside my dress, squeezing my breast while his thumb played with my nipple. In the dark of the dance floor, no-one would even notice.
‘Let me tell you how this is going to go, my little termagant,’ Zane spoke directly into my ear, his voice cold. ‘There’s a little garden out there, past the lights. You’re going to meet me there at thirty minutes to midnight and I’m going to fuck you in doggie position with your face in the dirt.’
‘What?’ I shrieked, the sound of my voice covered up by the music. Anyone who heard would think I was just shrieking with excitement from the dancing. ‘I’m not doing that!’
‘You are,’ Zane said, his voice steely. ‘And for that little bit of bitchiness you just displayed, you can wait out there for me with your tits already on display. Do you understand, Zoe?’
‘What?’ I shrieked again, trying to pull away from him and failing as his arm closed around my like steel. ‘I’m not doing that. I’m not doing any of this. You’re a jerk. You already…’ I broke off. ‘You already raped me once,’ I hissed. ‘I’m not letting you do it again. Dammit you…’ I choked. ‘You came inside me,’ I said helplessly.
My insides churned oddly at the thought of his semen still inside me, although I frankly couldn’t tell if it was hatred or some kind of messed-up pleasure.
‘You don’t get a choice,’ Zane chuckled, squeezing my breast so tightly that it hurt. ‘You’re funny, little Z,’ he spoke into my ear, sounding genuinely amused. ‘You don’t understand basic things. It’s called ‘rape’ for a reason, darling,’ he sneered.
‘Don’t,’ I hissed, horribly afraid I was going to cry. ‘You can’t do that to me.’
‘Let me explain something to you,’ Zane spoke softly but firmly, still squeezing my breast. ‘I can’t stand my father but I’m here because I needed to show up. I want my share of the inheritance when he pops off.’
‘You’re an arsehole,’ I muttered, wondering why I was angrier at him for being so crude about his father than about fucking me against my will.
‘Sure,’ Zane agreed with me easily. ‘And you’re a mouthy little bitch who never learned to be polite. By fucking you, I’m killing two birds with one stone.’
‘You’re not fucking me again,’ I hissed, wondering how I could get him to stop groping me while we danced.
Was I brave enough to make a scene? I didn’t think I was.
Zane ignored me. ‘I’ve got a lot of steam I’ve got to let off from enduring this godawful party,’ he explained. ‘And looking at these tits of yours all day has got me horny. You owe me your holes for that at least,’ he sneered. ‘And when I fuck you, I’ll drill some manners into you at the same time. Win-win situation,’ he sniggered. ‘I get to jack off inside you and I get a little sister with better manners.’
‘I don’t owe you anything,’ I said furiously, wondering when this interminable dance was ever going to end.
‘Maybe,’ Zane murmured, holding his mouth closer to my ear. ‘Maybe, I’ll even get a baby inside you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ he sniggered. ‘I can tell you haven’t been getting enough cum inside you recently, sweetheart.’
‘No!’ I snapped, feeling ill. Gods, I needed that morning after pill like now.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw my mother and new stepfather approaching, the wedding planner at their side and the photographer converging from the other side. They were clearly planning on bringing the whole bridal party together again for some final photos, and I had never been so relieved.
‘Meet me at 11:30,’ Zane said in a hard voice. ‘Outside, in the garden. Remember — I want your tits out where I can see them! Don’t be late, little Z!’
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.
Zoe’s New Stepbrother is available as full novel!
Get your copy at All These Roadworks!
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.
When I put intense play into my writing, it’s never a description of how these types of play should happen in the real world. There are a lot of people out there who can provide advice on how to do these things for real – listen to them and not me! Love you all 💖
© Pixie Isobella
