Punished and Humiliated for Teasing StepDaddy in My Latex Bodysuit
T. A. BEAU
Punished and Humiliated for Teasing StepDaddy in My Latex Bodysuit
T. A. BEAU
A short pseudoincest erotica story with humiliation and latex kink.
Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.
WORD COUNT: 5100 words
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My three favorite things are Instagram, shopping and pissing off my stepdad. Whenever it's possible to do them at the same time, I'm always happy.
For example, when I was heading to college this semester, I swiped one of his cards and I've been using it to buy the most unnecessary things I see on Instagram. There're hundreds of texts from him that I'm not planning to open.
If he was mad enough, he would have gone to the bank and blocked the card, right?
Exactly. I resist the urge to cackle evilly because I'm in public.
The flight is simultaneously longer and shorter than I expected it to be, and soon enough, I'm off the plane, trying to hail a taxi.
It's spring break so I'm choosing to surprise my mom and him by flying back home—using his card to pay for my flight, of course. If I close my eyes, I can imagine steam coming out of his ears.
“Hey Mom!” I cheer when she opens the front door.
My mother is clearly surprised but overjoyed to see her precious daughter. “Mandy! You didn't even tell me you were coming home.”
“Yeah, well,” I wave a hand before melting into her hug. “It was pretty last minute.”
“I suppose that's why you used my card again.”
There it is. Richard Jameson, my mother's husband. He used to be a pro tennis player, until he retired and took up coaching. All that to say, he's pretty fit—not that I've been looking or anything.
“Oh, that was yours?” I say with mock innocence, looking at him from over my mom's shoulder. “Since you changed my last name to yours, I didn't look too closely at it. Oops.”
“Cut the crap, Mandy,” he sneers. “I know you do this on purpose.”
“Now, now, Richard. Calm down,” my mom cuts in to mediate, and the hug ends. “She's just a girl. I made a lot of mistakes when I was her age.”
Richard looks about ready to pop a blood vessel. “That's not what's going on here. She's twenty-two… she knows exactly what she's doing.”
“Are you saying I'm a liar?” I cry with the most ridiculous pout. I'm actively fighting a wide grin. “I would never! What do I stand to gain from that?”
My mom nods. “Exactly. Now come in, dear. Take your bags upstairs and rest, all right?” She closes the front door. “I'll order takeout for you. Indian?”
Cooking has never been her strong suit, and I mostly grew up on takeout and cereals. Not that I'm really complaining. After all, she managed to bag not one but two men who could cook and were rich—my father, and then her new husband. All I'm trying to do is be like her.
I practically skip up the stairs, pausing only to throw Richard a sly smirk. “Yes, Mom. Indian food is still my favorite.”
It fills me with joy to see Richard's glare follow me.
My room is exactly the same way I left it, and I take the chance to roll around in my citrus laundry detergent-scented sheets. Ah… I definitely missed this.
There's only so much rolling around and doom-scrolling a girl can do, though, so eventually, I get up. My mom usually has some kind of fresh fruit juice in the fridge. She's really into the whole calorie counting, keto diet, yoga health nut thing. I'm not a fan, but it gets me the best freshly pressed orange juice ever, so I won't be complaining.
I go off to get some, but of course that's when I overhear my mom and her husband having a semi heated conversation.
“Darling… I don't know about this…” My mom's voice drifts upwards. I pause at the top of the stairs, shifting to the side so I'm out of sight.
“Look, we don't have to do anything. I know you only asked because you were curious and…” Richard is talking too. He sounds more nervous than I've ever heard him.
“And because I saw your browser history,” my mom finishes.
Which… wow. That's pretty serious.
“Look, I know it's weird. And I didn't want to pressure you into something you weren't interested in.”
What is this mystery porn category my stepdad is into? God I hope he's not secretly gay or some shit like that. Or maybe he's into pegging?
My mother sighs. “I looked it up, you know. Apparently it's called a latex kink. And I… don't mind it. As long as you're only watching and not paying for some cam girl's streams and there's no other woman.”
The way she speaks, you'd think she was the breadwinner here. But no, it's all my dad's wealth, plus Richard.