Stepdaddy's renown as a man of Ietters (hebephilic and pornographic) has led many to seek his wisdom through the years, leading to the establishment of the "Dear Stepdaddy" advice column. Please feel free to pen your own queries; Stepdaddy will respond in this column, or privately if you so request. Your letters are assumed to be just as fictional and tongue-in-cheek as the examples below. You can find his stories and poetry here.
Dear Stepdaddy:
You perverted bastard, you are ruining my daughter's life, and turning me into something reprehensible at the same time!
I am a single mother, and my daughter Whitney is fourteen-and-a-half. The economy has been hard on my employment efforts, and as a result I have had to accept temp jobs for little money. Naturally, I have cut out most of my own entertainment and social life to save money, but luckily my apartment building comes with free Wi-Fi, and using a laptop I took as "unofficial severance" from my last full-time job, I can at least lose myself in the web for a few hours, especially once Whitney has gone to bed.
My problem is that I stumbled upon your stories. Now although as young teen (and as an older teen, and as a young woman, and now, as a 34-year-old single mother), I fantasized about being mastered by an authority or father figure, that shit never happens in real life, at least not in mine. Yes, I had a stepfather, and yes, he pervingly leered at me in my teens, but he was gross and thankfully I never fell into his clutches. But like many girls, I masturbated furiously about a fantasy father-figure, usually in my mind some amalgam of the middle school principal, my uncle who was, sadly, deployed far away most of the time in the Marines, and whichever salt-and-pepper haired actor happened to be popular at the time.
Reading your stories has led to my having fantasies of my teen years as I wish they had been. You are a disgusting, horny, and perceptive son of a bitch. Your stories also gave me new insight into the way human relations really work. And the use I made of that insight makes me hate you, hate men in general, and most of all, hate myself. Oh, and it also makes me come like crazy.
I said money was tight. Well, after reading one of your stories, I think it was Stepdaughter: Spanked and Fucked, I was so horny that one jilled orgasm alone couldn't seem to quench the fire it had ignited. As I prepared to take a cold shower, I got a call from the building manager. Naturally, he was after the overdue rent (I know, this sounds like a fuck-story cliche!). The problem was that I was maybe a hundred bucks short. Anyway, I knew the manager, Mr. Andrews (yes, he's never shared his first name -- I think it gives him a power trip over the tenants), was always checking me out. But as I said, I had just been reading Stepdaddy, so I was both horny and attuned to your disgusting hebephilic wavelength. As a direct result, I did something that sent me -- and eventually Whitney -- down a horrible path. I went to the manager's office to barter my ass for a rent discount. But worse, I went only after first squeezing into Whitney's school uniform.
Yes, I saved my hundred bucks, that time. And again the next month. But the uniform, role-playing aspect gave Mr. Andrews -- and my suborned pussy -- some inappropriate ideas. He and I came to an agreement. I could save $500 the next month, and $200 each month thereafter, if the uniform was filled by its rightwise occupant -- Whitney.
I'll spare myself the shame of recounting the despicable details. Any reader of your stories can easily imagine the methods of manipulation and subtle deceit I used to get Whitney to eventually welcome Mr. Andrews to her bed. What also happened, a bonus that is often missing from your stories, was the mother's -- this mother's -- experience: hiding in Whitney's closet, masturbating outrageously, while watching this fifty-year-old man take my daughter's virginity. She was by this point mostly biddable to his demands, but when she resisted at the final moment, and Mr. Andrews had to use some physical restraint in order to successfully split her open for her very first time, did I run out and put a stop to it? No, damn you Stepdaddy, instead, feeling like I was watching a real-life Stepdaddy story unveil before my eyes, I came.
As you probably expect, after that first initial reluctance, Whitney soon came to enjoy servicing Mr. Andrews, even though he is nothing to look at. The bastard tries to get a little extra between the rent payments, but I always insist he make an additional contribution of some sort. That and, of course, I always make sure to watch from the closet and abuse my clit to the scene, although the man (or men, as you shall see) doesn't know about that part.
It turns out, however, that the job market hasn't really gotten any better for me. In fact some of the temp jobs are at the most inconvenient times. For example, when the computer repairman came back to get paid, I had to skip that day's offered temp bullshit in order to arrange for and then clandestinely enjoy Whitney's "discounting" effort. And now, between the cable guy, the local beat cop, the mailman, and several regular visitors all named John, I no longer have the time (nor much of the need) to accept the temp jobs anyway.
But you are an asshole, Stepdaddy! My daughter's innocence is ruined, and my cunt is a sore and sorry piece of work, stuffed and stretched as it constantly is by dildos of all shapes and sizes, and clit-diddled raw with every "session." And I have like zero employment ambitions anymore. Sure, we're now meeting (or bartering) all of our expenses and socking away a couple thousand more a month, tax-free, but the two-way mirror I had installed in Whitney's closet door, the hidden video equipment I want, and the sex toys and batteries I use aren't cheap.
Stepdaddy, I blame you for my situation and for Whitney's. How do you propose we make this square?
-- Projecting in Portland
Dear Pro:
I see what you mean. Compensation is clearly due. I'll be around on the evening of the fifth of next month. I don't expect nor want any of the money I've inspired you to earn, but I will gladly take a royalty payment in kind from Whitney's youthful vagina. Lay in some extra batteries for yourself, I have a lot to teach her.
--SD
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