This story was an idea that I couldn't get out of my mind. I had no real interest in developing it into a 'proper' story, like my other work, hence it's quite short. It's not one of my best. Therefore, negative comments will be pointless...
Me and mum had got along well enough after dad pissed off five years before. She had brought me up with love and care and I loved her to bits. It came as something of a shock to me when, one day, she came home after an evening out with a group of her friends and told me that she'd met a man. Don't get me wrong, mum had been out on dates with other guys over the years, but nothing serious. There was something in her voice that made me suspect that the new guy - Eric - was different.
I wasn't in the least bit jealous. Mum was still relatively young, only thirty-six, and my mates at school reckoned she was fit for her age. Anyway, at sixteen years of age myself, and planning to go to university when I finished school, mum deserved to have someone in her life.
So, I met Eric... and his bloody twelve year old daughter, Catherine. Jesus, was she ever an obnoxious little bitch!
Apparently, Eric was a widower. His wife died three years ago in a car accident, along with another daughter. From what I could see, the guy had over-compensated with his remaining daughter, giving her anything and everything she wanted. In short, spoiling her rotten! I took an instant dislike to her.
Eric himself was okay. He was never going to set the world alight, that much was clear from the outset. Still, he was reliable, honest and dependable and clearly adored mum. She was potty about him, too, which made her happy. That was good enough for me. If my mum was happy, then so was I.
I had the honour of giving my mum away at her wedding six months later. You can guess who was the bloody centre of attention all day - and it wasn't my mum and her new husband! Cathy (as she insisted on being called) made sure that everyone not only knew who she was, but also paid her their fullest attention.
Not me, though. I refused to pay homage to her, as she demanded. In fact, the more obnoxious she was, the more rude to her I was. It didn't stop her trying it on though. Maybe she was thick-skinned - or just thick! I didn't know and cared even less. She was nothing to me, even if she was now my stepsister.
Eric and Cathy moved in with me and mum. Eric used the profits from the sale of his house to do improvements on ours, which it needed, most of which he did himself. I was too busy with school to help him very often, which seemed to suit him and me.
Cathy continued to be a royal pain in the arse. For whatever reason, she latched onto me like a limpet. Wherever I was it wasn't long before she was there as well. It drove me nuts at times. She tried to make conversation with me, but most times I just ignored her. That didn't always work and she'd become even more annoying or, worse still, sulk. I tried speaking to Eric about her, but all he said was that if I paid her more attention sometimes she wouldn't be so bad. A fat lot of help that was! The last bloody thing I wanted to do was to be seen to be encouraging the little bitch.
I only became aware of her change of tactics weeks after she began them. The first incident I put down to an accident; I walked into the bathroom one morning and she was already in there, sitting on the toilet, panties around her ankles. I apologised and backed out, warning her to "lock the bloody door next time".
A day or two later she came out of her bedroom at the same time as I left mine. She was wearing a short, almost see-through, nightie that time. I didn't even acknowledge her. Then I saw her in just bra and panties and she even walked in on me a couple of times - in the bathroom and in my own bedroom.
She took to wearing revealing clothing: tight low-cut tops, short skirts and the like. She even flashed the crotch of her panties at me a few times whilst wearing a skirt and we were watching TV. I just looked away.
That went on for months. The day of her thirteenth birthday I swear, had we been alone, she would have paraded around in front of me naked, so desperate was she for me to notice her. It made me laugh.
Mum and Eric had been married about six months. They were invited to a weekend away with friends of Eric's. Kids were not invited. Mum, who knew how difficult things were between me and her new stepdaughter, asked me if I minded looking after the house and Cathy for the weekend. The house wasn't a problem; Cathy was, although I didn't say as much to mum. She was looking forward to her trip and I didn't want to give her cause to worry. In my most adult and reassuring voice I told her everything would be fine and to go and enjoy herself. They left on the Friday afternoon and said they'd be home 'sometime' Sunday evening.
If Cathy thought that being alone with me was going to be fun I made sure almost as soon as Eric's car pulled away from outside the house that that wasn't to be the case. I told her that I had a lot of work to do over the weekend, studying for my upcoming exams and that I wanted to be left in peace and quiet. With that, I retreated to my bedroom.
I hardly gave the girl a thought as I buried myself in my books and my computer. It was only when she knocked on my door to tell me she was going to bed that I realised how late it was. I'd been studying for some five hours solid, and I was also hungry. I finished the piece of work I was doing and saved it on my computer before closing it down. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen.
The kitchen light flickered on and I saw on one of the worktops a covered plate with a note propped against it.
'I made these for you as I thought you would be hungry' the note read, signed 'love Cathy' followed by three x's. I smiled, said a reluctant 'thank you' to her, then crumpled the note and lobbed it into the waste bin. The sandwiches - ham salad with all the trimmings - I wolfed down with a glass of milk. Even though I hated to admit it to myself, they were bloody lovely! Cathy had put a lot of effort into making them for me. It still didn't make me feel any warmer towards her, though.
The following morning, Saturday, Cathy said she was going into town with friends. I gave up a silent prayer of thanks that I'd have at least a couple of hours of peace and quiet while she was out. I had some work to get on with that I knew was going to be difficult, so the threat of interruptions being removed was a godsend.
It didn't go well. In fact, I couldn't get my head around the equation I was trying to calculate and was becoming irritated and frustrated. After what seemed minutes since she'd gone out, but was actually almost three hours ago, I heard Cathy call out that she was home. I heard her come upstairs and, thankfully, go into her own bedroom. Moments later the strangled whining of some boy-band or other started up. Oh, great!
I tuned it out and tried to concentrate, but it was useless. I got up, went to the toilet, then went downstairs and made myself a coffee. I drunk it in the lounge before returning to my bedroom.
The break had done me some good. I began to get a handle on the problem that had been bugging me all morning and was just about getting an understanding of what I was supposed to be doing. I was concentrating on my computer screen when I heard my bedroom door open behind me.
"Do you like my new clothes?" I heard Cathy ask.
"Yeah, lovely" I said disinterestedly.
"But you haven't even looked!" she whined.
"Cathy, just piss off, will you. I'm busy!" I said, still without turning around.
"Just look, please" she insisted.
"Oh, for fuck sake!" I seethed. I swivelled my chair around intending to rip into her. However, whatever I was about to yell at her died in my throat when I looked at her.
Cathy was wearing the skimpiest underwear I had ever seen outside of a porno mag. A tiny frilly black bra and matching panties that just about covered the essential bits and a smile that said 'I know what you're thinking'. It was that smile that did it.
Now, I have to say here that, physically, my stepsister wasn't too bad to look at (although I would never have told her that). She was about five feet, four inches tall with a nice pair of legs on her. She had a tiny waist, a tasty arse and enough tits to be interesting. Her face was pretty enough, but nothing special, her smile that showed all of her even, small white teeth being its best feature. With a personality transplant, she would be almost irresistible.
My body responded to what it was seeing, which enraged me even more. I didn't want to feel the way I was beginning to feel and I sure as hell didn't want the thoughts that were starting to cloud my head either. I made a decision almost without thinking.
I jumped to my feet and grabbed Cathy by the arms and threw her onto my bed.
"So, you think you're big enough and grown up enough to wear that sort of crap!" I seethed at her through clenched teeth. "Well, let's see how fucking grown up you are".
I roughly grabbed at her tits and mashed them in my hands.
"There's no need to be so rough!" Cathy complained as I squeezed her small tits. I was becoming more and more angry as she allowed me to grope her. I'd expected her to cry off, but she didn't.
She didn't complain either when I shoved the bra off her tits and grabbed them again. If anything, she seemed to be enjoying it! I squeezed her nipples and dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her tits and all she did was smile sweetly at me. Man, did that ever piss me off.
I was sure when I grabbed her pussy that she would change her mind. I shoved my fingers against the crotch of her panties and fingered her roughly. I barely registered that the crotch felt damp as my stepsister closed her eyes and a pleased smile settled on her lips. The little bitch.
I had a massive erection by then. I yanked down my trousers the ripped off Cathy's brand new panties. They tore very easily. I could smell her arousal before I got back onto my bed. I yanked her legs apart, barely registering the small neat patch of dark curly hair at the top of her thighs before plunging my throbbing organ deep into her hot wet pussy.
Cathy cried out, not in fear or pain as I'd hoped, but in real pleasure and satisfaction as my swollen prick filled her young pussy. It was only at that point I realised that she'd won the battle of wills that had been raging between us almost from the first day we met. As I slammed my prick into her, effectively raping the thirteen year old schoolgirl, I knew that I was giving her exactly what she'd been after for months.
All of the flirting, the 'accidental' glimpses of her young body and the rest of it. She'd wanted just this scenario, and now she had it. Man, I was pissed off! I slammed myself as hard as I could into her, willing myself to climax as soon as possible. I didn't even make a sound as I pumped my load of cum into her pussy. I didn't want to give her that satisfaction.
Afterwards, as I lay on my bed catching my breath, Cathy tried to kiss me. I pushed her away. I saw tears brimming in her eyes and she got off my bed and walked quickly from my bedroom. I listened to her in the bathroom, crying and cleaning herself up. I didn't feel good, I've got to say.
Cathy returned to my bedroom about ten minutes later. She'd removed her bra and stood naked at the side of my bed. I invited her to lay with me, which made her smile. We lay together like that for some time, not speaking. Soon, I was getting horny again.
I fucked my thirteen year old stepsister again that afternoon, and once more that night in her bed. On Sunday I was back in my own bedroom working on my computer, ignoring her like usual. She cried.
Around lunchtime, I found her in her bedroom laying on her bed. I slammed her bedroom door closed and jumped on top of her. I managed to get my hand between her legs and finger her pussy. I was already stiff and, with my free hand, I pulled out my prick. I pushed aside the crotch of Cathy's panties and slipped myself into her young body again.
I fucked her hard and fast, not giving her any indication that I was taking any enjoyment or pleasure from having sex with her. I came quite quickly, after which I simply got up off her bed and left her there.
That's the way it went, right up until the evening before I left home to start university. Never once did I give Cathy any indication that she was anything to me other than somewhere to slip my prick whenever I felt like it. I also got to choose where I stuck it; in her pussy, up her arse, in her mouth or any combination of the three. She may have thought she'd won the battle, but I sure as hell won the war!