Wicked Stepsister

Joey’s also my room-mate, because when she moved out, I went with her to help with rent. At least we got a 2 bedroom, so we could have our own rooms.

Her mom met my dad when I was 6, and I didn’t really understand what was going on, but mom found out, and demanded a divorce. She had a pre-nup, and cleaned him out, but then he was free to move in with Carla. And her daughter, Josephine, who must have been about 8? She was always a couple years older, so I got a big sister, and we shared a room growing up.

It wasn’t that bad, I mean for privacy, I got over it, and stopped hating her after a couple years. It wasn’t her, it was everybody, except my dad. Even though he cheated on my mom, and moved in with the homewrecker after the divorce, I somehow blamed mom for leaving him. So, I left her with my brothers, and moved in with them.

The privacy thing only really became an issue when Josephine hit puberty, and started playing with herself. In her room, she had to remind me that it was her room until I moved in, but I walked in on her naked once. She covered up, and asked me “Don’t you knock?” I said sorry, and shut the door, but she put some clothes on, and came out right after.

I’d seen her naked before, but not standing in front of the mirror, groping one breast, and cradling the other like a baby. I couldn’t see her crotch with her hand in the way, but I smelled it. I didn’t like that smell, especially when she left the room all stunk up, but I started knocking, and she started tenting under the covers to masturbate.

That was about it, for years until she got a boyfriend, and started dating. I liked him, Timothy, because he was a teenager, and his voice had gotten deeper since it stopped cracking. I knew him from around the neighborhood since we moved in, and I didn’t really get a crush on him, until Joey started sneaking out to screw around with him.

She came back, and told me all the dirty details, so I knew when he got to first base, she got her first hand job, and fingerbang. She sucked him off, and spit it out in her panties to save it, and showed it to me. “Ew, I thought you put them on, and the sperm leaked out.”

“No? I’m not on birth control, silly.” Then, I got used to the smell when she left me at home, alone in the room, trying to imagine what they’re doing, so she could come home, and tell me. Masturbating, thinking about his dick (I never got to see) hand jobs, blow jobs, and finger bangs while I pumped my first orgasms out.

2 fingers, once I loosened up with my pinky. I usually switched to my middle 2, but sometimes, I kept going to my pointer, and middle finger. Sometimes the 3 biggest ones, if I got lose enough before I finished, but rarely. That was about it, I never got kissed, boys wouldn’t even come up to talk to me, and even when I thought they’re smiling at me, it always turned out to be a friend.

Or my sister, I guess she’s a friend too. Step sister, and then room mate, before we had sex. I thought it was something wrong with the way I looked, but really it was because I acted like such a prude that boys thought I was afraid of sex. I guess I was, and I didn’t really try to hide it, but whenever I was hanging out with my more daring friends (Including Joey) they always went for the sure thing, which left me alone.

Then, she moved out when she was 19, and I was 17, because my dad wasn’t her father, but he tried to make her follow the same rules as me. I guess he’s to blame for a little of it, because he cock blocked by telling me what boys are like. #NotAllMen, but I guess he would know. He warned me about boys like him, or he was when he was younger, and even worse. So, I was afraid of everything from lover and leave her guys that promise forever to get a one night stand.

All the way up to BTK, and guys that kidnap you to skin your body, and parade around in a girl coat to “Goodbye Horses.” Silence of the Lambs type stuff. Not Hannibal Lechter, he’s sexy, and he only eats rude people, but Jame Gumb, and Francis Dollarhyde types. (There aren’t any real Hannibal Lechter types IRL. He’s a superhuman ideal perfect criminal.) So, I went through a phase, and another phase, and another trying to figure myself out, but my self esteem was so low.

I convinced myself that the only guys that would want me are the wrong kind. The worst kind, the best girls got the best guys, and leave the fat girls to the wolves. I wasn’t fat, I was Anorexic, but I still thought I was too fat, and ugly. So, I went Goth, and covered up my sunken eyes with makeup. Black lipstick, so I could rictus grin, and look even more like a skeleton in a Wednesday dress, and braids. Maybe switch to Morticia when I grow up.

I finally met a guy, a nice guy, that was into that. Fiona Apple, that was his favorite singer, and he said it was because she can sing the Blues. “It’s hard to believe so much soul can come out of such a little white girl,” but you have to think it’s because of the videos of her writhing around on the floor in her underwear like a heroin junkie on the DTs. He liked Janis Joplin, too.

So, finally he took me out on a date, clothes shopping. For Halloween, “I don’t know what to get, but I bet you’re the best person to help me pick it out.” I don’t have to tell you that most costumes are Superhero stuff, lately. I got a black widow belt, and bracelet thingies. It was a cheap costume, since I already had a closet full of black skintight full body suits. I just didn’t have the Scarlet Johansson body to go with it.

He wound up with the most basic Dracula cape you can buy, so I waited for him to go back in the changing rooms to scoff, and roll my eyes. “Uh!” Sorry, Goth. Even if we like it, we have to pretend it’s the end of the world. I hated it, vampires, really? Vampires suck, and they’ve been done to death. Ooh, Dracula? That’s even worse. Might as well put a bag over his head, and write [I couldn’t think of a better costume] on the back in blood. That’s 1 step down from a bedsheet ghost.

Then, he took me home, dropped me off, and I shook my head on the way up the steps. Like a walk of shame, only I wasn’t drunk. Just ashamed, and disappointed. In him, for once. I picked a better outfit for him, then another, and another, only for him to derp out, and buy what he was probably going to in the first place. So, he didn’t have to drag me along, get my hopes up, and leave me without even a kiss on the cheek. (With plastic glow in the dark vampire fangs to bite my neck, and ruin it.)

“How was your date?”

“Uh!” I just sank down into the chair, and put my hand up, dramatically. “Disappointing?” So, I just repeated everything I just wrote, out loud, only added “Leaving me alone, and horny.”

“Well, you know what I do when I strike out?” She got up, and just went back to her bedroom. So, I had to get up, and lean in her doorway. While she dug the biggest shoebox out from under her bed, in her pajamas, and hand them to me.

I didn’t ask, “What’s this?” First of all, the shoebox was the one her FM boots came in. As in Fuck Me pumps. Thigh highs, with a zipper all the way up, and 3″ heels in glossy candy apple red, and black. I wish they fit me, because I would totally borrow them if I could, but she put those on to dress up like a whore, and go out. Coming back stinking of alcohol, drugs, and sex.

Nice boots, for a gangbang, but before I even popped the flap to flip it open, I could feel the weight of things rolling around. Back, and forth, long round things. One of them so long that you needed a thigh high fuck me boots box to hide it in, with a head on both ends. “Huh! I knew you’re a sex addict, but.” I picked up the biggest blackest thing, “Jesus.” I just shook my head, and giggled, despite myself when it flopped around.

“I’m not a sex addict.”

“Really?”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little bit, but it’s not like I’m hurting anyone.”

I dug around in there, “Well, that explains the lack of whips and chains, but.” I set the box down on the coffee table, then a buttplug next to it by the base. “No wait.” I found a strap, and a chrome ring, with a couple more straps riveted to that. “What’s this?” I held it up, tangled, and twisting so it wasn’t immediately identifiable, but my mind was already on bondage, and more kinky things, that involve bondage.

“Humn!” She bit her lip, and looked away, when I looked up, and saw he blushing.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing? Just when I thought you have no shame.”

“Well, if you must know, it’s a strapon.”

“Uh!” I dropped it, for some reason. When I didn’t even think to ask if she cleaned it, when I was handling that big ass buttplug, for instance. “You’re a lesbian?”

“Of course not, I fuck guys, all the time, you know that.”

“So, you’re bisexual.”

“No, but I dated guys, who’re into. That sorta thing, and after we broke up, I guess I kept it.”

“Oh, bisexual things,” I nodded, “like threesomes.”

“No, bisexual things like pegging.”

“What’s that?”

“Anal sex, with a strapon.”

“OMGhnhn!” I covered up my mouth, and tried not to giggle, because I’m goth, we don’t giggle. Right?

“He loved it too! I mean, he did most of the fucking, and I never really got much out of it, besides a lot of pressure on my pubes.”

“You don’t have pubes, you always shaved it all off.” Until she found a spa where they would wax everything, and I mean everything from her upper lip down. She even waxes her toes.

“Well, you know what I mean.”

“Well, if you didn’t really like it, then why did you do it, and besides. How does he do all the fucking, with a strapon?”

“Well, he really liked to be on top, so I lay down for him to sit on it.”

“Well, that explains the pressure on your pubes, but not why you did it, if you don’t like it.” I could tell by the face she made when she said she didn’t get anything out of it. She looked disgusted, which is easy enough to understand, since we’re talking about buttfucking.

“Huh!” She stopped laughing, and looked up. “I don’t know.” She bit her lip, and turned away again. Just like she did when I found her strapon harness, at the bottom of her toybox. “I told you, he loved it?” She shrugged, but the way she said it like a question told me she didn’t even believe that.

“Well, you think you could strap on a dildo, and fuck me?”

“What?” She shook her head.

“Not in the ass, so not a buttplug.” I looked over at it, still hard to believe that anyone is flexible enough to take the whole thing, let alone a guy. Not because it’s gay, but women have hips for a reason. Not only to carry a baby, but it’s got to come out that way, and even before that, we have 2 holes. So, the hole in our pelvic floor is just bigger than a man’s, any man’s. It has to be.

“Seriously? You must be joking.”

“No, I’m just horny. Super horny, and all these sex toys just made it worse. You’re the sexiest person I know, you’re the girl guys fuck for bragging rights, and I just decided that I don’t want my first time to be with anyone else.”

“You mean, you’re really still a virgin?” She got up, and just took the pleather straps. Dropped it in the box, and picked it up on the way back to her room.

“That’s the part you find hard to believe?” I got up and went after her.

“Well, yeah. You’re so thin, and pretty. Funny, excited, and interesting. I don’t know what’s wrong with Paul.” The goth-curious guy that just picked out a Dracula cape from Party shitty. “But if he won’t fuck you someone sure should.” She dropped the box on her bed, with a rattle of plastic sex toys, and unbuttoned her pajama bottoms.

“You mean it!”

“Huh, yeah. I guess.” She had to unsnap the buckles, belt it on, then snap the buckles around her legs before she pulled her pajama bottoms up. “No, really.” She shook her head, and finally turned back. Buttoning the flannel fly up around a decent sized pink silicone dildo, sculpted with a realistic head, and veins on the side. “You’re so sexy.” I looked up from that to her face, and her eyes locked onto mine. So seriously, and sincerely, I had to believe her. “The only reason why a guy like Paul wouldn’t fuck you is he’s afraid of you. Now.” She flipped the box closed, and pushed it over to the side. “Come here.”

It was so surreal, it felt like a fucked up dream. Not a nightmare, but close. Just enough of that nagging dread, in the back of your head, you expect the suspenseful music to kick in any minute, but she took my hands, and sat down. Lay back, pulling me to her, so I climbed on, and felt her dick push up against my belly.

“Oh, Josephine!” I moved up so it slid down, then popped up to bounce off my butt. She stopped me, holding her fingers over my lips to kiss instead of her mouth.

“Huh!” She rolled her eyes, and grinned that dirty grin. “Well, if I’m going to play the guy, you better call me Joey.” She’s never even been a tomboy, by the way. She never even went through a tomboy phase, she’s a girly girl. Even her PJs had unicorns on it, and the sky is pink, instead of baby blue.

“Kiss me, Joey.”

“Okay,” she turned me over, and I kicked the toybox off the bed by accident, but then she was on me. On top of me, but her mouth smeared my lipstick, and she fucked her tongue in my mouth so forcefully. If I wanted to, I could close my eyes, and imagine a man on top of me. His real dick cold, but warming up between my legs.

I didn’t want to. I didn’t want her to be anyone else. She was my sister, yeah maybe just by marriage, but I never loved her so much before, and even the thrill of losing my virginity was drownded out by knowing who I was giving it to. “Is that the way you want it?”

I nodded. “Roughly.”

“RroughLY!” She growled!

“UHN!” She humped my lap so hard, it jammed the dildo into my aching cunt, and mashed it flat. “HARDER!”

“Uh, you think you could take it, you skinny little bloodless bitch!”

“Uh, yeah. I can take it, oh! Hold me, hold my hands up.” She grabbed my wrists, and beat them back up against the headboard.

“Like this!”

“Oh, oh god! Faster, Jesus fucking Mary!”

“Blasphemy!”

“Faster, yeah faster! Uh, I think I can get off on this uh. Huh! Fghm! ME! FUCKMEEE!”

I’m glad I wore the lacy panties. I mean, my laciest panties, cutwork so you could see my pubic hairs through the gaps between the scythe blades. Oh yeah, and if you look closely, those aren’t flowers, and kittens, and shit. The grim reaper, in black lace. Hoping I’d get lucky with Paul, and he’d appreciate it, instead of just use me to pose as a vampire, like the yuppie skum slumming poser he is, if he’d bother to even try getting in my pants. I’d let him, willingly, but now that the explosive climax is letting me gasp for breath.

“HUH! God, Josephine. I love you so much, Josephine.” I just held onto her, and hooked my heels behind her knees, so she could get away. “Don’t let me go. Please, don’t ever let me go.”

“Huh!” She just locked her elbows, so I had to pull myself up to hug her, and rub her body up against me again. “Let me go.”

“No.”

She rolled over, and I lost my grip, so she could push me off, and roll off the bed. “It’s just pillow talk.” She shook her head. “She doesn’t really mean it.” Talking to her self, which scared me. She doesn’t talk to herself, she never talked to herself, and though what she was saying broke my heart, I just gave in, and agreed with her.

“Huhuh. Yeah, you’re probably right. It was just so intense, and you fuck so good, I guess the feelings got the best of me.”

“You better go, back to your room.”

“I’ll pick these up.” I stopped on the other corner of her bed, to put the sex toys back in the box.

“No, just leave them.” She put her elbows on the bed, and held her head in both hands. “Just leave. Get out of my room, and leave me alone!”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know, but she didn’t even know why, she did things she didn’t want to. She always made excuses, then didn’t think about it until the next time someone asked, but she didn’t even know she was a sex addict, before I told her earlier that night.

The answer isn’t No. She can’t say no to sex, and even if she could, I have to wonder. Could I have raped her anyway? I know, it’s a sick thought, but I’m used to thinking such sick things.

I just never thought them about somebody I loved before, but thank god she slept it off. Sure enough, denial kicked in and she got up the next morning as if nothing ever happened. We never even talked about it again, but what she said helped a lot.

She’s right, I am really fucking sexy. Nobody ever actually told me that before, and I’m glad she was the first for that, too. My problem was I always scared guys off before they ever even took the chance to talk to me, so they never did, until Paul. I managed to scare him away too, because I yelled at him for picking “The wrong costume” all the way home.

So, I learned that lesson, and learned to bite my tongue long enough to get laid. It turns out, I’m pretty good at Domination, and Humiliation too. Bondage still takes a while to learn, nobody is a natural at that, but I know who I have to thank for everything.

“Josephine.” Too bad she’s so straight, and vanilla.

;

Soundtrack: This is optional, but sometimes I have music playing while I write. This one was Grausame Tochter – Beleidigte Engel (Original, then Instrumental Version.)

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