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Faced with Carries closed bedroom door, I can feel my rage building to a fever pitch. Somewhere in the back of my mind is the voice of reason, telling me that this isnt all Carries fault. Theres her mother to blame, too, and myself for marrying the bitch even though I knew I was doing it for the wrong reasons. The girls been through a lot, the voice says, and is only modelling the behavior she observed from her mother. The voice, my strangled conscience, makes a valid point. But valid points are not going to prevail today. I am on autopilot, and I can feel my heart racing at the prospect of where the autopilot is taking me. I can hear Carrie hitting buttons on her cell phone, the musical notes telling me that I am out of time. I crash into her door with my shoulder once, and hear a scream from inside. I crash again, and the door flies open. Off falls the girlish, white and pink plaque which reads, The princess sleeps here. In one lengthy stride I close the distance between myself and Carrie, and swing a backhanded blow at her face. I make contact, knocking her off her feet. Down she goes off her stiletto heels and onto her leather miniskirt, and her iPhone goes flying. I race over to get the phone and look at the screen, wondering if the call had already been placed. Im in luck: she had called up her mother in contacts, but hadnt yet gotten a chance to press call. I trun and look at Carrie, softly sobbing and trying to get to her feet while comforting her left cheek. I dont think she expected what came next. I took the roll of duct tape off my wrist, tore off a piece, and slapped it over her mouth before she had a change to react. I caught some of her fiery red hair in the tape, and yanked it out right away. She gasped, thrashing around and trying desperately to get to her feet. Not today, princess I said as I tore off more duct tape. I took her by the wrist and began to bind her pale hands behind her back, and I noticed for the first time that shed painted her nails black that morning. Shes crying now, but behind the tape it sounds more like a muffled whine. I tape her feet together – she kicks viciously when I grab her ankle – and within a few minutes I have her completely bound. I stand up and admire my work. Lying on the floor, crying uncontrollably while heaving breaths in through her nose. Her mascara running down her face in twin torrents of tears, leaving contrails on her pale cheeks the color of despair. She looks terrified and utterly broken. My eyes glide down her young body – shes stull in the teal green halter, and lying on her side as she is accentuates her cleavage. Having her arms bound behind her back forces her chest out and forward, and lying on the floor presses her breasts together. I can feel my cock throbbing and threatening to burst through my pants. Her petite, toned torso giving way to the curve of her hips, bound tightly in the leather skirt, and the skirt giving way almost immediately to black fishnet stockings which disappeared beneath her knee-high stiletto boots. Now, what do I do with her? This house has a finished basement with thick block windows, several poles supporting the ceiling and a full bathroom. It seems to me to be the perfect place to keep her until I decide what comes next. I leave Carrie sobbing on the floor, and go fetch a pocket knife, more duct tape and a bicycle lock from the garage. I take the items downstairs, set them down next to one of the poles, and go back upstairs. I find Carrie in the hallway, struggling against her restraints and working her way inchworm-style down towards the stairs. The crawling motion is beginning to pull her top down, and its all I can do to keep it together. I grab her around her waist and pick her up, tossing her over my shoulder as she cries out in protest. Ive never realized how much smaller than me she is, how absolutely powerless and frail despite her hellcat attitude. We get down to the basement and I sit her down next to the pole. She thrashes and begins crawling away again, but Im not worried. I ready a piece of duct tape, then ready a second and third, planning to unbind her hands and rebind them behind the pole, fastening her securely and following up with the bicycle lock around her waist. Once everything is ready, I walk over to Carrie intending to pull her back to the pole, but I stop short. Her ass in the air, fishnets emerging from that short leather miniskirt... Jesus, shes not even wearing underwear! Little slut went out commando in that already skimpy outfit. Its the last straw, and I abandon all self control. I grab a fistful of her red hair and pull her up to me sharply, bringing her ear next to my mouth. Ive done nothing but provide for you for the past three years, you little bitch I say with quiet menace, and all youve given me in return is disrespect. Guess what, princess, its time to pay up. I grip her hair more tightly and shoot my tongue lasciviously into her ear – she jerks and squeals against her duct tape gag. And I am going to get every fucking cent you owe me. We have a whole month together, miss. I reach down and put my hand down her teal halter top, kneading her warm, soft and yielding breasts... she sobs as I roll her onto her back and pull her neckline down, exposing the most spectacular pair of creamy pale breasts I have ever seen. I bury my face in them as she struggles, teasing her nipples with my mouth and tongue and feeling them stiffen despite her protests. I flip her over, the hunger getting the best of me, and force her hips into the air while forcing her head down. I unzip my pants and take my dick out, its rock hard and throbbing, begging for Carries teenage cunt. I know shes not going to be wet, so I have to improvise – I spit on may hand to lube my dick up and then shove myself as hard as I can deep inside my bitch stepdaughter. I hear her muffled screams as the ecstasy fills me. Shes so tight that I have trouble getting in, more a function of her small size than sexual purity, Im sure. I wrap my hands around her waist as she struggles, pulling her close, slamming her hips into mine to drive my thrusts as deeply as I can. I feel her pussy start to get wet, and feel the walls spasming around my cock. I pound her harder, harder, and decide to play with her clit by reaching around her hips while I rail her. Shes still crying, but after a few minutes I feel her body start to shake... feel her pussy get tighter, slipping up and down the length of my shaft until Im threatening to blow. I finger her clit viciously until I feel her body tense, hold, quiver, and relax. I pull out of her, and flip her on her back. Her eyes are red from crying, mascara streaked down her face. I shove my dick between her tits, squeeze them around me with my hands, and start fucking her cleavage like a madman. The hollow of her collarbone, the heaving of her chest and the feel of those tits – those tits Ive been fantasizing about for years – wrapped around my dick... its all I can do not to explode. I decide to give in, After all, I have her for a month. There will be plenty of time for more. Still fondling her tits with one hand, I start to beat off furiously over Carrie and feel the rush of cum building up, feel the rapture and tension and explosive release. I aim for her face, for her chest, and I see ropes of thick white cum falling on her cleavage, in her hair, across her tear-streaked face. When Im done, shes a mess. I slap her in the face with my cock once, twice, three times, then zip myself up and tie her to the pole. I stand back and look at my handiwork. Carrie is tied tightly to the pole by her wrists and waist, her body slumped and trembling, her clothes disheveled, and covered in my cum. I decide to leave her like this for the night. Goodnight, princess I say to her, and I see her eyes grow wide in fear as she realizes that I intend to leave her in this condition. Tomorrow well talk about how Im going to teach you some respect. I turn off the light and ascend the stairs, hearing her muffled cries against the tape gag. Not dissuaded, I climb the stairs and leave, shutting the door behind me and leaving her in the darkness. Now, where was I? I think in a surreal cadence. Oh yeah, my movie. I pour myself another drink and, feeling immensely satisfied and excited about the coming weeks, settle in to relax for a bit before bed. eroticauthor38