A Slow Spiral

The story of a young woman's slow spiral into a world of humiliation, submission and perverted love.

This story captures situations and events that illustrate the power one person can have over another. Everything our heroine experiences was consensual, everything our heroine did was out of misguided love and lust for a man who she allowed to callously misused her.

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My name is Morgan Thomason. I know Morgan is an unusual name for a girl.

The kids at school used to tease me all the time about having a boy's name and I would run home many times crying, and beg my Mama to change my name to Mary or Margaret or even Millicent, I didn't care as long as it was a girl's name. By high school, things had changed. My body had filled out and I now looked like a woman and not a little girl/tomboy. I grew to like the name Morgan, because it was different, unique something that separated me from the others.

No more acne, large green eyes, long, thick, shiny chestnutty brown hair, and my breasts though on the smaller side were full and well-shaped with long, dark pink nipples that seemed to be forever hard. There was nothing I could do about it, when stimulated (by whatever cause) my nipples would become erect and embarrassingly obvious under my clothes. On more than one occasion, a female teacher at school would pull me aside and suggest that I put on a sweater to deter the older boys and even some of the male teachers from staring at my chest. I must admit I was flattered by the male attention and fully aware of the hungry look in their eyes, but aside from an "accidental" rub against my breast or a stolen squeeze of my ass cheek when I walked pass I had never been intimate with or even interested in any of the boys at school.

*****

My Father died unexpectedly only two weeks after my graduation from high school. My plans to move away to college were quickly forgotten as my life became centered on my Mother, who had never been an emotionally strong person. She needed me, and I couldn't bring myself to leave her; so, with her foremost on my mind, I stayed in the small town I had grown up in.

Still young looking and pretty, to my surprise, Mama hadn't been a widow for very long before she married Justin Michael Bennard. Justin, tall, with a slim but athletic build, dark hair and strong, ruggedly handsome features, was a twice divorced local businessman, around whom rumors of sexual exploits and predilections continually swirled. Mama was lost without Daddy, and though she missed him, she was lonely and fancied herself in love with Justin. It was embarrassing the way she fawned over him and allowed him to control and dominate her. Soon after she began her relationship with Justin, it became clear that no matter what I said, I'd never be able to change her mind about him, so I quickly learned to keep my feelings to myself and mind my own business.

And so, our lives together began.

Theirs was a tumultuous relationship from the beginning. Sometimes when she came down to breakfast she would be sullen and withdrawn, while at other times glowing with happiness. I can't recount the number of times I would hear her cries of anguish in the dark of the night when he would punish (?) her and then the cries of pleasure and lust when he would make love to her or force her or sexually abuse her in some way . . . one pleasure always followed the other. I can't image what really went on between the two of them behind their closed bedroom door.

To my confused, inexperienced mind, I thought he was mistreating Mama, and I hated Justin for that. I was only eighteen at the time, unaware of the interpersonal games and sexual undercurrents that flowed between Mama and Justin and I suppose men and women in general. I eventually became disgusted with her behavior and dependence on him, little suspecting that one day, his attention would turn toward me.

*****

I detested Justin and made no secret of my feelings, not only did he treat Mama badly, but he was often rude and inappropriate with comments directed at me. As time passed, the two of them pretty much lived their lives, and I lived mine until one night when he had been out drinking with a couple of his friends and came home buzzed, loud and obnoxious.

I had been upstairs getting ready for bed and had changed into my sleep shorts and a nightshirt. In an afterthought and not expecting Justin to be home I had gone downstairs to the basement TV room to get the book I had been reading.

He saw me dash into the TV room, and following me, began berating me.

"You prance around here like you're something special, too good to speak, but I got news for you little girl . . . those days are over."

"What are you talking about? I demanded to know. You're drunk."

"You're going to do what I say from now on, or I'll make you sorry," he said in a husky, gravelly voice before he suddenly pulled me into the darkened room.

"Let me go, let me go, or I swear I'll tell Mama."

He laughed. "I don't think you'll do that and I doubt your Mama would believe you anyway; hell, not after I tell her how you been making eyes at me and showing me your boobs from the first day I came into this house. Who do you think she'll believe when I tell her how you've sucked my dick more than once when you wanted extra money for shoes and clothes?"

"That's a lie! I shouted hysterically . . . that's a lie!"

"You stupid little bitch, I know that, but your Mama will believe it."

"You wouldn't do that," I said pathetically.

"You think I wouldn't? I don't want to hurt your Mama, I really don't, but I will if you give me any problems."

The dark TV room fell silent except for the ticking from the old clock on the coffee table. After a minute or so, sensing my resignation, Justin pressed in closer; I could feel him behind me. I began to struggle and squirm when he rubbed his cock against me, becoming hard, long and thick in his excitement. After a few minutes of struggling, I was exhausted, and he forced me against the cool basement wall. Ripping my cotton shorts off me, he spread my legs apart with his knees and roughly pushed into me slipping his cock between the lips of my soft, pink pussy; I know he could feel my body stiffen. I screamed out in panic and pain as he tore through my useless virginal shield and buried his hot, bulbous cockhead inside me.

"Shut the fuck up," he said menacingly, before he stopped moving and listened for any sounds that would mean Mama had been awakened. After a few seconds, he again began to slide in and out of my no longer virgin pussy. My legs trembled and began to buckle, but he held me around the waist keeping me upright as he fucked me until I no longer struggled. Despite my revulsion, I relented and opened myself to his assault.

Submissively, I stood there with him supporting me, as my stepfather satisfied himself, I could do nothing to stop him for fear of his threats to tell Mama. Justin came hard and forcefully.

My tears began to fall in large droplets when I felt the spray of his cum inside me. When he had recovered, without a word of concern or worry, he told me to fix my clothes and get up to bed.

Nothing was too perverse for Justin; I remember later the next day though dazed and distracted by what had happened the night before, I had been in the kitchen helping Mama with dinner. The roast was in the oven, and I was at the sink peeling potatoes while Mama went upstairs to shower and take a nap before dinner. I looked up when I heard Justin come into the kitchen and my eyes immediately darted about the kitchen looking for a path of escape, but I wasn't fast enough. This man had already taken my virginity, but here he was, lewdly rubbing his cock against my ass. He reached around me and lifting up my T-shirt began fondling my braless breasts and pinching my long hard sensitive nipples.

"Justin, please . . . no," I begged as he bent me forward over the sink.

"Momma's upstairs, she'll hear," I began, before he shushed me quiet.

"I just looked into our room before coming down here, she's fast asleep," he said with a lecherous chuckle.

I was still sore from our previous encounter, and it was uncomfortable and yet strangely exciting when he bent me over, pulled the crotch of my panties aside and tried to press his cock into my swollen, inexperienced pussy. My traumatized pussy was too tight and resisting which made it difficult for him to get his huge, purple cockhead all the way in.

When he realized he wouldn't be able to fuck me again without hurting me, he reached across the counter and picked up the bottle of cooking oil. He poured the oil into his hand and slathered it all over his cock with long stroking motions before covering my pussy with the lubricant. Slowly, deliberately he guided his cock into my pussy and began pumping while at the same time rubbing my clit until I came in a trembling, jerking orgasm . . . my first orgasm with a man. As my orgasm subsided, he resumed his hard, deep strokes until he came releasing a large, warm load into my abused pussy.

All thoughts of Mama being upstairs forgotten.

"You're not a little girl anymore Morgan," he said as he kissed my neck and pushed his still hard cock forward, deeper inside me. "You're a woman now."

*****

Despite his increasing boldness and intimacies; touching, kissing on the cheeks, quick fondling my breast and caressing my ass even when she was nearby, surprisingly it seemed Mama never suspected a thing. To her, Justin was the perfect husband who loved her and treated me (outwardly at least) as if I was his own daughter.

Sadly, because I felt I couldn't leave her and go away to school as I had always planned, I reluctantly took a clerical job working in Justin's office to earn money. The first couple of weeks everything was fine, and I thought things would work out, but it soon became clear why Justin had given me the job. Justin liked having me close and available to him, and to show his affection for his "daughter" he thought nothing of calling me into his office or taking me out to his car to have quick sometimes, rough sex.

I don't know how or when it happened, maybe because Justin was the only man I had been with, but my feelings for him began to change. Justin taught me what it was like to orgasm with a man's tongue inside me, the extraordinary feeling of cumming on a man's hard, thick cock, the sensation of having a man's cock growing and swelling inside my mouth as his cum flowed down my throat. My stepfather a mean, controlling, sex-obsessed bastard was also an exciting, adventurous man who taught me things that I could never have imagined. I grew to love everything, every experience he introduced to me.

He dominated my thoughts and my body. I would lie under him feeling his hardness inside me knowing that the reality of him being my stepfather and how he had forcibly taken my virginity, didn't seem to matter. Despite everything, I knew what was happening between us was wrong, but I no longer cared.

Just like Mama, I was also expected to be an obedient, submissive partner. Of course, I wanted to please him, but sometimes his sexual demands and overbearing personality were suffocating. We had had arguments and disagreements before, with me always being the one to give in. Our first serious argument which was perhaps six months into the relationship was different. Justin had wanted me to participate in a threeway; his request left me speechless. I was very uncomfortable with the idea of making love to anyone other than Justin. but I felt physically sick and disgusted when he said he wanted the third person to be my Mother.

"Mama would never do anything like that," I said, embarrassed to be thinking, let alone saying those words out loud.

Justin didn't reply.

"Oh my god . . . you didn't tell Mama about us did you?" I asked, my shaky voice trailing away to a whisper.

"No, not yet, he said before adding, "You don't know your Mama as well as you think you do Morgan. She'll do anything I tell her to, even jilling her daughter if that's what I tell her to do," he said knowingly.

My uncharacteristic and adamant refusal to participate in this perverted fantasy infuriated him and resulted in a loud, angry argument.

"I won't do it, you sick bastard," I shouted and then ran from the room.

A few days after the argument, Justin and my Mother had gone out of town. The thought of a threeway with Justin and Mama had upset me more than I had expected. Knowing they would be gone for a couple of days, I packed my bag and ran away, driving the one hundred miles to my grandparents' home upstate. Of course, they were concerned about my showing up unexpectedly, but I reassured them that I was having some problems at home and just needed to get away for a while to think. Respecting my privacy, and assuming the problems had been with Mama, they didn't inquire any further.

My respite did not last very long. A few nights after coming to stay with my grandparents, the household was startled awake by a god awful banging on the front door. It was Justin; surprisingly he had come alone, Mama was not with him. He had come to take me home.

Justin being his normal controlling, belligerent self, began to argue with my grandfather. Afraid Justin would become physical I separated them and told my grandparents everything was fine and that I would go back with Justin.

I remember as we drove down the highway how he viciously cursed and criticized me.

"You sorry, ungrateful little bitch," he growled.

"I've been good to you and your Mama, and you sneak away like a street whore at the first opportunity." All I could do was sit there in the passenger seat, my eyes burning and brimming with tears. After an hour or so on the road, Justin grew quiet and then grabbing a handful of my hair, pulled my head into his lap and demanded I take him into my mouth.

"Suck it, you slut. I want you to milk my dick, and you'd better swallow every fucking drop . . . you understand?" I nodded my head dumbly, and not wanting to upset him further, I unzipped him, freed his swelling, leaking cock and sucked him off as he drove until he came with a loud cursing, "Fucking bitch, yes . . . yes!"

It was close to one o'clock in the morning when Justin pulled into the driveway. Mama ran to me as soon as the front door opened.

"Oh, baby, why did you leave without saying anything, you don't know how scared we were. Go on upstairs to bed and we'll talk later, okay?" she said reassuringly as she ushered me to the stairs. As I mounted the stairs, I turned to say good night to Mama and felt an icy chill at the way Justin stood glowering at me.

I showered and crawled into my bed only to toss and turn for what seemed like hours before the house grew still and I finally drifted off to sleep. In the very early hours before it was light outside, my eyes fluttered opened to the sound of my door opening and closing. I knew it was Justin. I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to steady myself as arousal and anticipation moved through me. I hated myself and was disgusted by my body's betrayal; in a sick, perverted way, I wanted him. I welcomed the feel of his weight on top of me, I welcomed and needed the push of his rigid, demanding cock into my warm, moist pussy.

There were no words spoken between us, only him penetrating me and taking what was his. I closed my eyes and clung to him.

*****

I had been chastised and now understood that he would come after me if I tried to leave.

Things slowly returned to how they had been. Of course, Justin and Mama were continuing to have relations, but that did not curb his libido or his need to dominate sexually not only Mama but me as well. Mama and I were there to stroke his ego and satisfy his physical needs. While Mama, refused to see Justin for what he was and for the things he did, my view of him however was becoming clearer with each passing day.

He would come to my room late at night after Mama had fallen asleep, sometimes after already having made love to her. In the beginning, I would lie in my bed waiting for him to crawl under the covers and relieve himself deep inside me as my pussy instinctively contracted and released around him, milking his cock dry.

Further adding to my humiliation was what he did to me at work. As he became more controlling and confident in my submission and silence, with co-workers and clients, bustling about he would have me come to his office. Driven by his perverse fantasies, he would roughly bend me over his desk or chair, and with his hand covering my mouth to muffle my moans and whimpers when I came, he'd violate me. Whether by accident or design, he would never lock the door. Whenever we did it in his office, I was always afraid someone would walk in and find him fucking me, though most likely they already suspected what was going on behind the closed door.

*****

After a while, from his demeanor and attitude, it seemed that he would do things to me, silently daring me to say anything to Mama or worse yet he'd act as if he wanted her to discover what was going on, his infidelity and my complicity.

A perfect example of his blatant confident in his ability to control, manipulate and dominate the both of us was how his sexual predilections sometimes overshadowed his better judgment. Justin enjoyed doggy sex, and on more than one occasion when Mama was home (in the kitchen, doing laundry or out in the garden); he would corner me in one of the rooms. Despite knowing she was nearby or more likely aroused by the knowledge that she was nearby, Justin would warn me not to make any noise that might alert Mama. Making me get on my hands and knees he'd press my shoulders lower so that my rear end was raised and presented to him before pulling my panties down mid-thigh and bunching my dress up over my hips. Grunting and groaning he would fuck me doggy, usually cumming inside me, but sometimes pulling out and covering the small of my back with spidery threads of white cum.

Occasionally, if I had been his "good girl" he would have me stretch out on the couch in the TV room and then position himself between my legs, where he would lick and suck my clit and pussy until I came crying and repeating his name.

All the while Mama would be busying herself somewhere in the house oblivious to what was happening right under her nose.

*****

I can't explain it, but despite everything, his verbal, physical and sexual abuse and degradation I think my need for Justin only grew. Because I believed I could deal with the humiliation and depravity of my relationship with Justin I found it difficult to refuse him. Whatever he wanted me to do, I eventually would do.

There came a time when he felt the need to reinforce my submission and show his dominance over me. One night after lovemaking, we lay in bed talking, him spooning behind me, his hand between my legs leisurely teasing my still sensitive clit.

"I want you to do something for me Morgan," he said against my ear, the pressure from his hand on my clit warm and insistent.

"Sure Justin, whatever you want," I trustingly replied, still enveloped in that wonderful afterglow of good sex.

After a long pause, Justin said, "You know my friend James has always had a thing for you. Well, his birthday is coming soon, and I want to give him something special . . . I want you to sleep with him, give the old guy something to think about and remember."

My body stiffened, and Justin slipped his fingers inside me and began to slide them in and out with the pad of his thumb massaging my clit.

"I can't do that," I stuttered.

"Oh baby, you know I wouldn't ask you to do something like this if it wasn't important to me. James is a good friend, who's been there for me whenever I've needed him. The poor bastard will be turning fifty and I swear he says he stills gets a hard-on whenever he sees you; I know it would mean a lot to him."