I am a sexual slave to my step mother and step sister. How did I get here? More to the point, how will I get out?
After the death of my mother, dad drifted for a while till he met Veronica. She was a widow of a business executive and was financially independent. A natural beauty in her early forties with thick raven black hair down past her shoulders, a trim body, long legs and full 38C breasts that could almost go without support, if you know what I mean. At just shy of six feet tall, she commanded attention when she walked into a room. She usually dressed to accent her features. Even when she was dressed in her "woman's business suite, there was an air of sensuality about her. She was very comfortable as a woman in a man's world. She was woman enough to handle most men and knew it.
Dad fell hard. They were married after about six weeks of dating, including a pre-nuptial that would protect the families on both sides. He was an executive that traveled a lot. That was ok with her. She was no clinging vine but when he was there, she was all his.
It was her daughter, my new step-sister that hooked me first. We were both in Greenbrier High School, a private prep school for those aiming at the Ivy League. The uniforms were stylish, with pleated skirts that always swayed very nicely on the girls. Many of the girls enjoyed violating the length code and Faye was no exception. Slips were required under the skirts and as many of us guys liked slips, it was a field day every school day. The girls all seemed to enjoy teasing us with flashes of pretty lace. At first, Faye pretty much ignored me. We got through the initial introductions and were polite but she really didn't warm up to me. At least not then.
Faye was blonde, blue eyed and built. Full breasts always clad in a blouse that accented the size, firmness and the lace that adorned them. When I saw her at school, I always thought of that line in the song "Let me tell you bout the way she looks, the way she acts, her voice so soft and cool, her eyes so clear and bright". She was a collector, but wasn't showy about it. They were there at her beck and call. Soon I would be one of them.
One day after breakfast, she called me into her room. "We really haven't gotten to know each other. I thought maybe we could chat a little to start." She said in a matter of fact voice. She usually came down to breakfast in her robe (she had several beautiful nylon robes, and, I presumed, ok, fantasized, matching gowns underneath). Something told me she had something in mind. This kind of girl is always in control and if she does something like this, its because she wants something you can provide. I followed her into her room ( I was already dressed and ready to go) while we chatted about common teachers, the ones we liked and the ones we didn't. Our likes and dislikes matched very well. She sat at her vanity, which was separated from the rest of the bedroom by a screen. On the back of the chair in her room was the slip I presumed she would wear that day. Seeing it, I caught my breath. It was ivory with antique lace on the bodice and the hem. The ivory colored nylon was, I could tell before I ever touched it, very silky. It was beautiful, and obviously very expensive. I could not resist. I walked easily over to the chair and placed my hand on the back , touching the fabric. It was incredibly filmy and silky. My fingers continued their exploration as we chatted. She asked me if I thought a couple of the female teachers were hot (they were) and she told me of the male ones she thought were hunks. She also critiqued the pretty female teachers (she shouldn't wear that color, wears the wrong kind of bra for her breasts, etc.). By now I was running my hand over the silky nylon and even burying my hand in it. I didn't know it but she could see my every move from the vanity mirror.
Quietly she got up and came around the screen and, with a little expression of surprise said "I see you like my slip."
"I, uh, er, didn't mean any harm."
"No harm done. Go ahead. Check it out. It's my favorite. Its beautiful and I love wearing it. Its so silky it is a shame to have to wear anything under it," she taunted.
I hesitated.
Smiling, she picked it up by the straps and held it against her so I could see the whole slip. She was right. It was beautiful and I fantasized how it would feel against my skin.
"Check it out," she said again "Feel it inside and out. The lace is lined in nylon so there is nothing touching skin above the hem but silky fabric. See?" She took my hand and guided it inside the bodice, taking my fingers to the cups that held her firm 36C breasts. She drug the skirt of the slip over my arm and pulled the slip around my neck by the straps.
"Don't you love the feel of it? It's okay to admit it. Your body, or certain parts of it anyway, have already answered that. Go ahead, tell me."
"Yes, I like it," I nervously replied as the nylon snaked around my neck.. My eyes closed in ecstasy.
As her hand brought the skirt up to my check she asked teasingly, "Would you like to sleep with it tonight?" She laughed and told me to leave so she could finish getting dressed.
In school that day, every time she passed me in the hall, she would flash me a glimpse of the slip. I was glad she didn't get the chance while I was on the way to Gym class. There would have been no hiding the erection in the locker room.
The chess club had a late meeting that day, as it usually did on Fridays. It was a rainy evening and by the time I walked home, I was soaked. As I walked in the kitchen door, she greeted me.
"Hi, you're home kinda late," she said. " And you are soaked to the skin. Go upstairs and get out of those wet clothes. You have time for a shower. Mom and your dad are out for the evening, and I felt like cooking, so I gave Maria off. Eggs and Hash ok? And a movie afterward."
"Sure," I replied. I noticed that she'd changed from her school clothes into her PJs. As I looked, I felt the stirring in my loins. Baby blue nylon pajamas with lace trim. The blouse of the pajamas was pulled tight around her breasts. Nice. The matching robe was draped over a stool at the breakfast bar. I couldn't tell but it looked like there was something else under the robe. I was to find out later.
I was glad to get out of the wet, cold clothes and into the hot shower. It washed away most of the tension of the day. Out of the shower, as I dried off, I decided to follow Faye's lead and put on my PJs, planning on an early bedtime unless a good flick was on.
Back downstairs and in the kitchen just as she finished serving the two plates of eggs and hash.
"Just in time," she says.
"I'm hungry. I hope you made plenty," I replied.
As we sat down, our eyes met. I smiled and looked down, slightly nervous. She smiled in return to mine but it said something more.
"I hope I didn't embarrass you this morning with that slip thing," she started. "I noticed you admiring it and only wanted to satisfy your curiosity, and be open with you."
