"That's it, you little cocksucker," I said to my kneeling, 15-year old stepdaughter. She began to bob her head up and down on my shaft all the faster. She knew it would only be a few more minutes, and then she would be free of her duty, at least for now. "Oh yessss, that's a good girl!"

Back before I changed the rules on her, she would probably have been finished by now. In those days, I had allowed her to use her hands to stroke my dick while she sucked on the end. However, I soon discovered that she was getting lazy, just keeping the head in her mouth, doing all the work manually. "Cheater dick" would not do for my little girl, wouldn't do at all, so nowadays her wrists are bound behind her back from start to finish.

As a result, I now enjoy pure tongue-and-mouth ministrations, which not only feel better, but also keeping it hands-free gave me much more control, allowing me to prolong the pleasure, usually for as long as I please, until I decide to let loose in a shattering release. Often, it pleases me to prolong the session greatly indeed. She was working at it pretty hard at this moment, however, and we both knew it soon reach its climax.

I had never dreamed I'd be enjoying such bliss when I married Kimmie's mother five years ago. At the time, Kimmie was a little ten-year-old slip of a girl, and my only interest was in her thirty-year old mother Denise. My, how times have changed! Oh, I still enjoy Denise's hot little body, kept that way by the aerobics classes I have arranged for her to take each afternoon, in addition to her gourmet cooking classes, her flower arranging classes, and her volunteer work. Yes, for as long as the private school I send Kimmie to lets its students out at 2:30 in the afternoon, I assure you that her mother will be kept busy with afternoon self-improvement projects.

I still enjoy giving my wife the bone. In fact, one of my favorite things to do is to take Denise's pussy after my morning shower, and then to allow the evidence of her pleasure to dry and crust on my sated prick all day while I work as a securities trader. You see, I live in Colorado, so the New York market I trade in closes every day at 2:00 pm in my time zone. Just in time for me to get home, pour a scotch, and wait for Kimmie to get home to lick and suck her mother's caked-on pussy drool from my dick. I enjoy this for two reasons. First, the whole mother-daughter effect is intoxicating, and second, Kimmie hates that aspect at least twice as much as she hates having to suck my cock in the first place. She has been hating both aspects for almost a year now.

Wow, I mused to myself, if five years ago even I never imagined this scene unfolding, how blissfully ignorant must the then ten-year-old Kimmie have been in those long past, innocent days. I had met her mother while doing a little volunteer work. In my occupation, I make an ungodly amount of money, but for some reason my employer feels that volunteering one's time is better than just giving money to a good cause. So, there I was, along with several of my colleagues and some of their spouses, helping to repaint a low-income apartment building. Denise was a single mother, down on her luck, and one of the few residents who actually pitched in with our efforts. Since she was quite attractive and had a killer body, I asked her out, and within a couple of weeks I was regularly pounding the hell out of her long-unused pussy.

We dated a while, and I realized I had found a smoking-hot, compliant, moldable piece of ass, so I married her. She brought her little girl, Kimmie, along, and both of their lives were changed dramatically. They moved into my luxuriant home in the very best neighborhood, and began to enjoy all the better things in life. Denise was very happy to begin the self-improvement programs I had mapped out for her, since she initially felt a little out of place among my friends and their Ivy League wives. I must say, she has really come a long way. Little Kimmie was enrolled in a private girl's school a few blocks away, and just when she was getting to that age when girls start to worry about wearing the right clothes and having the right things, she had the very best. At her last school, a dysfunctional public K-8 on the other side of town, the other girls had just starting teasing her as a "welfare girl" (not exactly true) and "trailer trash" (exactly not true). Suddenly, because of her new circumstances, she was able keep up with the snobbiest of her classmates. If you don't believe that is important, you don't know any ten-year old girls.

Kimmie had to wear a uniform Monday through Thursday at Chetwood Academy, but on Fridays the students were allowed to wear "regular clothes", and on weekends she had all the best mall-stalking outfits to keep up with the "Little Miss Sally St. John-Smitherington-Smythe" types down the street. Because I had made this fantasy possible, she adored me from the very beginning, and although Denise and I first instructed her to call me by my first name, Alex, she soon took to calling me "Daddy". This pleased me, in an avuncular way at the time, so we allowed it. Now it pleases me in an altogether less innocent way, and I insist upon it.

"That's it, honey, suck Daddy's cock, he's about to give his little schoolgirl exactly what she's craving", I muttered. Kimmie was really going to town now, her long brunette hair cascading around her face and my lap, alternately obstructing and framing my view of her big brown eyes, her pert little nose, and her full-lipped, but small, mouth stretched around the slickened girth of my happy cock. I glanced up from observing her bobbing head. I was taking my pleasure today in one of our more common settings. I sat in a leather easy chair in my "drawing room", my half-finished scotch temporarily forgotten on the side table, as the little teen executed her obligation. Behind her was the glass front of a trophy case, in the reflection of which I could enjoy the vision one of my favorite little get-ups. At my insistence, today she had shed her blouse, her little A-cup bra, and her pleated skirt, and was kneeling in only her white cotton panties, her white knee socks, and her white and blue saddle shoes. I had an excellent reflective view of her tightly-clad, sweet little fifteen-year-old bottom, as well as the back of her bobbing head and long brown hair. I insisted that she keep her hair long enough to reach down her (now naked) back, but short enough to not quite reach her cute little schoolgirl ass, and at times like this, the parental grooming discipline paid off in visual pleasure. Over her ass, her wrists crossed, bound in leather restraints that, ironically, her mother had presented to me a few months ago to use on her.

This day was a Thursday, which meant that the morrow, a Friday, she'd probably wear a "regular outfit" to school, so I could look forward to a little mini-skirt, bare-midriff, pony-tail session then (obviously, Chetwood was not a religiously-chartered private school!). More importantly, it also meant that Denise would be out with her carefully choreographed activities until nine tonight. This created an excellent tension of interests between little Kimmie and me, which I was relishing at this moment. You see, with Denise out so late, I could afford to drag out our session for as long as I chose. I could let the pressure and semen build to the point that the poor little cocksucker's jaws would be very tired by the time she finally got to choke down my copious load. On the other hand, Kimmie had all the more reason to try to bring me off as quickly as possible on Thursdays. As part of our "arrangement", as soon as she finished the duties she owed me, she would be allowed to go see her little seventeen-year old boyfriend, and to perform the same sort of service for him, if she chose. Her mother would never allow her to go out on a school night and, of course, Denise was completely ignorant of any of Kimmie's newfound talents, so Thursdays were an opportunity for us both.

Ah yes, the "arrangement" -- I thought back upon its genesis with pleasure. It had been about ten months ago, and I was at home around two-thirty, as usual. The doorbell rang, and to my surprise a police officer stood at door with a shamefaced Kimmy in tow. Looking out to the street I could see some little punk was secured in the back of the officer's patrol car.

"What is it?" I worriedly asked.

"May I come in?" he responded. I showed him to my study, the very room in which today little Kimmie was so hard at work. On that occasion, Kimmie had no choice but to join the two of us, and I told her to sit down while the officer said his piece.

"Well?" I asked.

"Mr. Broward, I'm Sergeant Thompson, and on my way home from my shift I found your daughter in a rather compromising position. You see, she was in the back seat of a car, in broad daylight, with one of my regular 'customers'. He's a little shit named Billy Weston, and he's been in and out of juvenile correction since he was nine. Well, half their clothes were off, and Kimmie here, was, well, she was pleasuring him in a way no fourteen year old girl ought to even know about."

At the time, this was a tremendous shock to me. I still thought of Kimmie as a little girl, who only months before had begged me for some "Mystery Date" computer game for her fourteenth birthday. But suddenly, as I looked at the humiliated youngster sitting in my easy chair, avoiding my eyes, I noticed how her pert little breasts were starting to blossom, and recalled how her hips had begun to show themselves around our backyard pool. To my great surprise, I felt my dick twitch, and in a heartbeat, I had been transformed from a shocked parent into an aroused male. I suddenly had a plan.

"I'm afraid that's not all," Sergeant Thompson continued, interrupting my scheming, "it was no great surprise to me to find quite a few drugs in that punk's car, which doesn't look too good for Kimmie, and it's going to finally send Billy to an adult prison, where he'll be the one giving the blo--....excuse me, I'm just glad to finally put him away." A quick glance at Kimmie's face confirmed my suspicion -- her boyfriend's peril was extremely distressing to her. "And then there is Kimmie..." he trailed off. I knew what he was after, and it would fit very nicely into my plan.

"Sergeant, can I speak to my stepdaughter alone for a moment?"

"Sure", he said, "I'll wait in the living room here".

"Kimmie," I said firmly, after he had excused himself, "I want to know exactly what happened". She looked very afraid, particularly since I had always before referred to her as my daughter, not my stepdaughter. I had carefully selected the more distant reference to underscore her precarious position.

"Daddy, he's not that bad, don't let him get sent to prison!"

"Kimmie, you had better worry about yourself. Now tell me what's been going on. Are you fucking this little shit?"

"No...no, just, you know" she stuttered, having never heard me use a word like "fuck" before.

"No, I don't know. Tell me."

"I've never, you know, had sex. I was just, well...you know, with my mouth."

"Kimmie, I want you to pay close attention to me. I'm going to tell you what should happen now. You should be taught a lesson in humility; you should be sent back to public school, back on a meager clothing allowance, and all your nice clothes and iPhones and everything else given away to charity.

"Your mother will happily back me up in this plan, once she learns that you've become such a whore. You know she does whatever I ask of her -- classes, volunteer work -- in order to "improve" herself. She'll certainly follow my instructions with respect to whatever I deem necessary for your 'improvement' as well.

"And lastly, your little shit boyfriend Billy should be sent up to the state pen, where as the good sergeant suggests, he'll be the one giving the blow-jobs. In and out of the system since age nine? It's quite probable he's already quite adept.

"So, you tell me: should I make all of that happen?"

"No, no Daddy! I'm so sorry! Please, I'll do anything, anything, please don't let any of those things happen!"

"I'll remember you said that. I'll tell you what, I'll get Billy off the hook for now, but rest assured, I can have him sent away at any time, and I can have you return to your former lifestyle at any time. And I'll tell you what, under certain circumstances, I'll even let you continue to see that little loser, and help you do so without your mother's knowing. But for any of this to happen, you're going to do exactly what I say, every time, and anytime, from now on. Is that clear?"

"Yes Daddy, thank you, Daddy!"

"Alright then, go to the living room and wait with the sergeant." When she'd shuffled out into that uncomfortable audience, I opened my safe and removed some cash.

Sergeant Thompson was waiting for his bribe, but he was really surprised that it was in the neighborhood of ten-thousand dollars. He was even more surprised that I actually wanted him to drop the charges against Billy, as he figured I would want to keep my stepdaughter away from the likes of him. He was happy to hear that I was so generous because I wanted him to be prepared to take Billy down anytime I asked, to which he whole-heartedly agreed. "Of course, I can't keep Billy out of trouble. He's sure to cross the law from time to time."

"Sergeant, you do what you have to do. Bust him when you have to. But I'd be obliged if you string out the minor shit -- don't send him away for a long haul unless I want you to, okay?"

"Sure, I can do that. There are other methods of 'punishment' and 'community service' that I can use in the meanwhile with Billy, and he's no stranger to them." I noticed the policeman's hand stray to his crotch, and a gleam come to his eye, and the Sergeant's previously inexplicable energy about Billy Weston made a little more sense. He and the kid had a past. I wondered if the Sergeant had previously worked at the juvenile detention facility when Billy was "learning" there.

Kimmie witnessed this whole exchange, although the homo-sadistic undercurrent was, I'm sure, completely lost upon her. No matter, she got the part about incarceration, and the more important part about my controlling when and whether that might lie in Billy's near future. Her life was never to be the same again.

So here I was, almost a year later, about to pump yet another tremendous load down my stepdaughter's middle-school throat. I don't think she was so thankful anymore. And now she had to call me Daddy, a twisted irony now that I was using her so cruelly. No, I'm sure she didn't feel much affection for me at all. But Billy was still a free punk, she still got to enjoy the life of a little rich girl, and other than for our little sessions, she had it pretty good. Tonight she might even get to see Billy, unless I could prolong our current intimacy until just before nine o'clock, when her mother would return. It was 3:30 now -- she'd been at it for almost an hour. I had once made it last until about eight, and she had been miserable. Oh, what a blessed release that had been!

But I wasn't going to be able to last so long on this occasion. I looked again at her panty-clad bottom. Oh yes, very nice. Other than her mouth, she was still completely a virgin. That was part of the "arrangement", which I checked personally on a weekly basis. Hymen intact, sphincter tight. Both conditions would be changing soon, however, courtesy of Daddy. Lately, the look of her sweet ass and taut pussy mound were working that ancient magic on me, and I knew that soon the blow jobs would no longer be enough. It was with these thoughts that I lost it. I grabbed her head with both hands, forcing my cock deep into her throat. I stared at the refection of her white-panty ass in the trophy case glass, squirming with the rest of her slender body in protest at the unkind intrusion, as I shot a powerful load down her sweet slutty throat. Spurt after spurt pulsed out of my throbbing cock and directly into her tummy. "Oh god!" I thought, as I came for what seemed like sixty seconds, staring at the reflection of that ass and imagining how I would soon bust the little teen's cherry.

In accordance with our arrangement, she licked me clean afterwards, recited the formulaic "Thank-you, Daddy", and stood up, turning around so that I could release her from her bonds. I couldn't resist swatting her cotton-covered ass a couple of times and, as she scurried away to get ready for a date with Billy, I thought to myself "Soon, very soon, I'm afraid it will be time to punish that little pussy". But that, my friends, is another story.






Note: This is the first episode in "The Arrangement" series. The next two are available at A Change of Routine and Justice Is Served.






Comments

Nickname Date Feedback
Dutchboy This is one of my all-time favorite A.S.S. stories, dating back to the old dial-up newsgroups. I'm delighted you dusted it off and cleaned it up with this nice HTML format of Mr. Hailey's.

Thanks for writing it, Stepdaddy, and thanks for reposting it.

This is one of the stories that inspired me to write smut. You rock. Can't wait to revisit the remaining chapters.
Thanks, Dutch! Seeing an old plaintext version on your fine page--/~Dutchboy/authpage.html--motivated me to get off my ass and get back into Kimmie's. I love your stuff as well.

--Stepdaddy
Anonymous 9/4/2015 simply marvelous. thank you so much
9/4/2015 And thank YOU, kind sir, madam, or adolescent hottie...

--Stepdaddy
Naya 12/23/2015 [This post has been edited slightly by the webmasters]

Would love to be in this situation. I'm [young]. Would love to re-enact this. My K I K is [redacted].
Dear Naya,

I agree, you WOULD love to re-enact the events of this story. But we can't post your contact details publicly, nor can I reach out with a K I K knowing too little about your situation. Contact me with an email address I can respond to, and tell me more about your reality, and I will do what I can to advise and "help you out".
--Stepdaddy
Logan 2/3/2017 I don't know a 14 year old out there who hasn't given a blow job. I am 33 and my now 11 year old step daughter once walked in on her mom giving me what Kimmie gives you everyday.

As for Kimmie's attire maybe the white cotton panties were part of he inform but again any hot little 15 year old I know or knew wears a thong typically.
Logan, thank you for your observations. I don't know I believe every fourteen-year-old girl out there has already explored the fine art of fellatio, but with diligence, men like you and me can continue to try to fill in that gap. What is unfortunate is that to the degree you are correct, far too many of these young ladies were not properly introduced to the practice (and service) by men of appropriate experience (let's say men of at least thirty and twice -- preferably thrice -- their age), but by some kid around their own age, poor things. I hope you won't let your stepdaughter become another such statistic.

As to your panty preference, Kimmie does indeed have a school uniform requirement, but even if she didn't, I would prefer white cotton aesthetically for the scene to which you refer. After all, juvenile pudenda is enhanced by immature framing, don't you think? I poetically expound on panty possibilities here: Stepdaddy: Undies Worldwide

Also, there's nothing like a cotton gusset for absorbing the rich aromatic perfume of teenaged twat, which can support a dad, stepdad, or uncle in his self-enjoyment as he plots the ultimate seduction of his target, as I illustrate here: Stepdaddy: Laundry Day 2015.

In real life, I find that once I have moved on to actually fucking a young lady, I only care about her panties as a sort of wrapper for catching the leakage from her just-fucked cuntlet as she scampers off to school with an "our little secret" smirk on her lips and warm teeming load of my appreciation in her womb.
--SD

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