Stealing Stepdaddy, femdom and findom combined

Amazon Description:

‘Alice was eighteen years, and twenty-nine days old, when her stepdad – Colin – said something, just twenty-seven words, which changed her forever.

After that, her life (and his) were never the same again. Strange that the biggest changes can come from the very smallest of beginnings. That morning was a kind of before and after thing. There was the Alice of before, and the Alice of after. Two totally different girls…

And Colin? His life was cleaved in two.’

A stirring story of domination, enslavement, the exercise of power and devotion. 

Extract:

Alice was eighteen years, and twenty-nine days old, when her stepdad – Colin – said something, just twenty-seven words, which changed her forever.

After that, her life (and his) were never the same again. Strange that the biggest changes can come from the very smallest of beginnings. That morning was a kind of before and after thing. There was the Alice of before, and the Alice of after. Two totally different girls…

And Colin? His life was cleaved in two.

Anyway, to that morning.

Colin had been up early to see his wife off to her Saturday shift at the hospital. She was a nurse in the Intensive Care Unit and worked one Saturday in every three. He was always up with her at six o’clock to make her usual coffee and bacon sandwich (with grated cheddar), before she left for her ten-hour working day.

It wasn’t something he minded doing. They had been married for just over nineteen months, and while the marriage had not been all he had maybe hoped for, he was content enough to take refuge in his various interests and routines. He had never expected a lot from life, and life had duly obliged him by delivering just that.

He worked at the same hospital as Helen, but in the administration. His job was strictly Monday to Friday nine AM to four-thirty PM. His Saturdays were precious to him. Especially those when Helen was working.

But, by his terms, Saturday only kicked-off when he had completed the breakfast-with-Alice ritual. But that was never a set time. It was whenever Alice might deign to put in an appearance. After that he was free to do his garden, read his books, and in the afternoon take a stroll down to the Thistle and Down to watch the football.                   

This morning he didn’t expect Alice down anytime soon. She had been out on the town with that friend of hers, Amy. He had heard her come in well into the early hours. Rattling and banging around the kitchen, late night – well, early morning – snacking.

His relationship with Alice had improved from her obvious coolness when he first moved in eighteen months ago. He understood that, it had only been a year since losing her own father to cancer, and another man on the scene in the house must have been unsettling. Perhaps claustrophobic to her.

She had largely ignored him in those early months, and he hadn’t tried to force things. He just went along and let the slow thaw set in. Even now she could still be distant at times, but these days she seemed to mostly accept him as if he were part of the furniture.

She was no longer as hesitant to speak openly to her mother while he was around. Now it wasn’t just the yes and no stuff, but actual discussions. Frivolous and heavy. And she obviously felt less self-conscious in her dress. She obviously didn’t see him as any kind of threat, flitting in and out of the shower in just a brief towel and sometimes sitting for hours on the stairs chatting to Amy on the landline, in the same.

So, furniture he was, and he was very content with that. He really wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. After all, you never noticed furniture, did you? You didn’t guard against it. It never caused problems. You just took it for granted; like it was invisible until needed.

But Colin wasn’t just furniture. Colin had noticed her. He had noticed her very much. Right from day one, and more with each passing day.

He could not stop noticing, nor did he want to. Noticing her was what made his life bearable.

She was, after all, a very attractive girl. She was what Helen must have been twenty-five years ago, only more so. Much more so. Alice was the kind of girl that older women loved to hate. She had the all exuberance of youth without any of that annoying immaturity. Plus, she had that classy look; tall and willowy, with that deliciously haughty expression across her pretty features, as if utterly confident in her own superiority. And her high mid-sized breasts were just perfect to him. She had the confident walk and bone structure of a catwalk model. Her skin was like fine silk over glass.

Oh yes, he had watched her; had watched her and Amy, looking almost like The Sisters Spectacular, setting off on their nights out. Last night they looked especially radiant. Alice blond, Amy brunette, both long-legged, high-heeled, and short skirted. Alice displaying an irresistible cleavage, Amy braless, nipples active beneath the thin top.

Just seeing her filled him with a kind of pain that could never be stilled. But neither did he want to. It was exquisite to him. It was the focus of his life. All the rest was just timeserving.

Of course, when Helen was around, he couldn’t be seen to notice. He had to steal his glances when he could. But even a furtive peek was enough to sustain him for hours on end. How he envied those boys and men who would be seeing them on the town. What must it be like to have those two in your immediate orbit? He was fifty-one years old; thirty-three years older than Alice, and at times his need made him feel pathetic. Ashamed. Other times he just felt sad for his own youth. It all seemed such a long time ago, and far, far away. Was he ever young in the same way?

Helen, when her husband was alive, had been attractive to him. Perhaps because she was unattainable. The wife of his best friend from his schooldays. But with Brian’s death she had seemed vulnerable, all at sea. Only then did he acquire the creeping confidence to pursue a friendship with her. And he pursued his quest all the way to the altar.

But since knowing Alice, his feelings for her mother had somewhat waned. Even simple conversation was dull and lifeless. These days it was becoming a chore to touch her. He kept up a sex-life just for the look of things, but his thoughts were continually elsewhere. Usually with Alice, only a few feet away, through the wall. He sometimes worried that she might hear. Sometimes he didn’t worry at all. Most often he worried about the fact that he wasn’t in the slightest worried if she heard or not.

Sad. Pathetic even, but true. The pitiful crumbs of small satisfactions.

Sitting in the sun-baked kitchen he, at last, heard movement upstairs. And about time. She wouldn’t be long now. He put the bacon under the grill. On these mornings he always longed for her to come down. Just seeing her always gave him a lift. His heart would always quicken at the sight of her. His cock would twitch. He put extra rashers under. Extend the breakfast. Be the good guy.

She normally met Amy for shopping on Saturday morning. Then he would be alone.

Alone to be his true self.

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Cruella Pain

I am an author of books with strong and explicit Female Domination themes.

I am a Dominatrix / Mistress. I am a bitch.

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