How long he had been standing there? When Mum had left in the afternoon, she had said she was going shopping then meeting up with my stepdad for dinner and a movie. Now that I was 18, they often did that and I always took advantage of it.
I thought I'd be alone for the evening. I spent the afternoon dressing up, getting a little stoned, playing at being the lady of luxury, bathing, adding some makeup and a new outfit as if I was going out dancing. Between my mum, my older sister who'd gone all "college conservative" and left most of her sexier clothes at home and a few raids on my aunt and neighbour's give away boxes, I had a nice assortment of pretty and sexy clothes to wear. The black fishnets and flared miniskirt were my sisters, the spike heels together with red and black corset style top came out of my aunt's cast offs, the red lacy edged thong was my mums and the wide black collar used to be our neighbour's dog's the bangels and clip on ear-rings were thrown out by the neighbour too. The lotions and perfume and makeup and hair products were all my mums.
Once I was all dressed and made up, I checked myself out in mum's full length mirror and Wow, I looked hot, really hot, not much sign of the boy that had started the day. I used my best imitation of a catwalk walk down the hallway to my stepdad's den which would be "the Club" for my imaginary evening out. Stepping into this very masculine room, I felt a hundred imaginary eyes on me and drank in the appreciation of their stares. I took the arms of two tall handsome imaginary strangers and let them lead me to the bar where a very slutty looking imaginary barmaid served me a very real whiskey and soda from my Stepdad's Bar, thank you very much! I downed it in one and she served me another which I sipped slower but greedily as my two imaginary friends fondled and caressed me. The imaginary DJ, shirtless and leering, played loud dance music over the very real stereo and the live show began on the stage in the form of a porno from my stepdad's collection on his big screen tv. We watched gorgeous girls in sexy latex being fucked by big oiled up beefy tanned guys whilst my two imaginary men and slutty barmaid caressed me and plied me with drink telling me they wanted me drunk and slutty when it was my turn. I drank as their hands caressed me, making me hard inside my panties, teasing my aching cock close to orgasm but denying me release over and over until they pushed me onto the stage shouting "dance for us, dance for us, then we'll let you cum as we fuck you."
I danced as the crowd cheered and whistled. I was the caged girl on the podium, caressing herself, offering herself to them as she gyrated to the loud music. Horny, high on lust. Spinning and bucking and writhing in a hot sexual trance. My skirt flared as I danced and caressed myself and I writhed, turning, letting their eyes devour every inch of me, lifting my skirt so no part of me was hidden from them, the hot red thong framing my ass and encasing my enraged cock.
And that's when I noticed him, leaning against the doorframe, a big grin on his face and his phone in his hand. Oh Fuck! I stopped dead, cold fear gripping my heart and stomach and brain. Oh, Fuck! He just stayed there, grinning. Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck! I wanted to run, I wanted to scream and cry, I wanted to die.
"Don't stop on my behalf, I was enjoying the show!" He said mockingly, loudly, over the dance music.
I moved to turn off the music.
"Don't!" He commanded. "I like it."
I turned, back to him, he was moving towards me. Oh Please, I wanted to say, please let me go to my room, please let us both forget all of this ever happened. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. But all that came out was "Please!"
He came up close and looked down at me, even in the pike heels he was several inches taller than me. "You are such a dirty little tart!" his words slapped me and his vicious smile made it sting all the more.
"Please!" I whinned, wanting this to all stop.
"You look like a whore, a slutty whore! Is that what you want, to be a whore?"
"Please! Please!" The words came out in a breathless pleading for him to stop.
"Dance for me, whore, don't stop. You were turning me on!"
I couldn't move. I tried, but fear was gripping me so tightly, I couldn't do it under his demanding gaze.
"Oh, Please, no!" I begged.
"Dance!"
I tried but my legs were weak and I fell on my knees in front of him.
"Please! I begged, the words coming to me now, "Please, Stephen, please..."
"Call me "Daddy,"" He commanded, cutting me off in a mocking overtone of the of the past conversations when he had wanted me to call him dad.
"Please, Daddy, I'm so..."