Stepbrother's Rules: A 1950's Ageplay Romance

by Rose, Renee

  He nodded. “I’m actually not sure I believe you, Lu.”

  “I want you to think about what it means to be my baby girl. Do you know what I expect of you?”

  She started to nod, then stopped. Did she? “I-I don’t know.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Um, truthfulness?”

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It came as a relief to see the affection still there. “Yes, mouse. Truthfulness. Obedience. Respect. It’s not hard. Do you trust me?”

  She nodded without hesitation. Of course she trusted him.

  “Do you believe I love you and want to care for you the best way I know how?”

  That part was new, but when she remembered all the tender moments of caring he’d shown her, since the first night she’d shown up, she knew the answer was yes. She nodded.

  “Then you can trust my decisions are made with your best welfare in mind.”

  She nibbled her lip. It was like having a parent—a daddy. She may not always agree, but she did know he meant to protect her and wanted what was best for her.

  “You are welcome to influence my decisions. I expect to hear your opinions and I don’t mind if you argue with me, so long as it’s respectfully. But if you’re going to be my wife, mouse…”

  She stared at him, her belly clenching at the if. What did he mean if she was going to be his wife? Was her position in question?

  “...well, I need to trust you, too. I need to know you are honest with me and you never hide things from me, even if you know it will get you a spanking.”

  Her nose burned. “What do you mean if?” she croaked.

  He caught her face in his hands and shook his head. “I didn’t mean if. I’m sorry. You are already a wife in my eyes. You are my baby girl, my one and only. You are my everything. Nothing will change that.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks—tears of relief.

  “I made a mistake, mouse. I blurred the lines between discipline and pleasure from the very beginning. The truth is that I couldn’t resist you. Every time I saw your sweet little bottom bared to me, I wanted to possess all of you, in every way. So, I can see why you might even think it’s fun to lie to me.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as she blushed, wanting to hide her head under the pillows. “So that’s why I want to talk about this now. Your lies hurt me and they would hurt our marriage. Can you see that?”

  Her face crumpled and she hid it in her hands.

  He pried them away. “No, don’t hide from me, mouse. Never hide. You’re my baby girl and you have nothing to hide. I get to see all of you—even when you’re ashamed.”

  She was ashamed, and having him name it made it even worse. She fought him for her hands, to keep hiding her face.

  He rolled her to her back and pinned her wrists beside her head.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, turning her face away.

  “Look at me, mouse.”

  She panted, still shutting him out.

  He waited, expecting her obedience.

  Apparently she was incapable of disobeying, because her eyes opened of their own accord and she found herself looking up into his azure stare.

  “No more lies, mouse. Promise me.”

  A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. “I promise,” she choked.

  “Tonight I will punish you. I will make it memorable so we won’t have to repeat this lesson—ever again.”

  It wasn’t fear that tightened her belly, even though she knew she should be afraid. It had something to do with being bared by him—bared to her soul.

  I get to see all of you—even when you’re ashamed.

  There was no hiding from her Daddy. He would punish her, probably in humiliating ways, and she would still feel safe. There were no ifs. She belonged to him.

  Still holding her wrists captive, he bent his head and caressed her lips with his in a soft kiss.

  “I want you naked and kneeling in the corner when I come home from work tonight. Understand?”

  Her nipples hardened. “Yes, sir.”

  He kissed her again. “Good girl.”

  * * *

  Brad spent the day with a semi-hard cock, thinking over possible punishments for LuAnn. Despite his resolve to separate discipline from pleasure, he doubted he’d be able to resist ending it all with her release. Her little wet pussy was too alluring, her desire too heady, her climaxes too intoxicating.

  It was too late for that night, but he sketched the design for a little wooden paddle, shaped with an oval and a handle. He would drill a hole for a ribbon to hang it on the wall, and paint it with LuAnn’s name on the back. He was good at wood-working and had a friend with a shop where he could use the equipment. It would make a perfect wedding present.

  On his lunch break, he drove to a supply store and found a sturdy rattan cane certain to make an impression on LuAnn’s voluptuous backside. He also stopped by the motorcycle garage and put up a for sale sign for his Ducati.

  The last vestiges of rebellion in him had disappeared with his new role as husband. He was the authority now. He was daddy. He made the rules. And LuAnn deserved a daddy who acted like a grown-up. For the first time, he wanted to buy a car and a small house. He wanted to man up and provide not just for LuAnn, but for a family.

  He never thought he’d want those things, but he realized now, he’d felt the change the very first time he’d taken little LuAnn over his knee. Being her daddy was his destiny.

  Driving home with the cane resting across his thighs, his thoughts went to his pretty little girl. Would she be in position? He imagined the sight of her, kneeling naked, her head bowed. Was it wrong he was this excited to punish his soon-to-be wife? Probably.

  He parked the bike outside and walked up the steps. The apartment was spotless, as if LuAnn had spent all day cleaning. The furniture shone with fresh wax, the floors were scrubbed and polished and not a thing was out of place. The table had been set and the place smelled of a freshly cooked dinner—a pot roast, judging from the covered pot on the stove. He hung his leather jacket on the hook behind the door and toed off his shoes.

  He found the door to the bedroom slightly ajar. LuAnn looked even more breathtaking than he’d imagined. She’d put her hair in pigtails and blue ribbons, but otherwise did not wear a stitch of clothing. Her creamy white skin glowed in the soft light from the curtained windows. Her slender shoulders were lifted slightly, as if in anticipation of her punishment, making the line of her spine even longer. Her bare feet were tucked around her bottom, framing her buttocks with the two dimples at the back of her pelvis shaping the top of the picture.

  “Good girl, mouse,” he murmured.

  She turned her ear slightly in his direction, but kept her eyes fixed on the juncture of the walls.

  “Have you thought about our discussion this morning?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said in a small voice.

  “And?”

  She twisted to look over her shoulder, her eyes pleading. “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, satisfied. “Thank you. Your punishment will begin in just a moment. You may stand up if your knees are getting stiff, but keep your nose in the corner.”

  Leaving the cane on the bed, he went to the kitchen where he fished a carrot out of the crisper drawer. He scrubbed it, then cut it with a paring knife, forming it into the perfect shape to insert in LuAnn’s ass.

  When he returned, LuAnn was standing in the corner, looking so sweet and vulnerable and beautiful it made his eyes smart. He grabbed the baby oil from the nightstand and set it with the carrot plug and cane on the bed. “Come lie over Daddy’s lap, Lulu,” he said as he sat down.

  LuAnn turned, her eyes sweetly downcast. She padded over to him. Her lower lip stuck out in a little pout, but there was no defiance in her. She stood between his knees, her gaze reaching the level of his chin. “Are you mad at me?”

  He wrapped his palms around the backs of her thighs and drew her closer. “No,” he murmured. �
�Daddy’s not mad. I’m going to spank my baby girl, and then we’ll put this behind us. No more lies, only trust and honesty between us. Okay, little girl?”

  Her lip trembled.

  He steeled himself against the urge to go completely soft. Pulling her across one of his legs with her torso resting on the bed, he wrapped the other leg over hers to keep her from kicking.

  The first swat sounded loud in the quiet apartment and hit hard enough to leave the bloom of his hand print. He repeated it on the other cheek of her luscious ass. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he settled into a rhythm, spanking steadily.

  She gasped and squirmed, but didn’t protest. He loved the way she gave herself over to him, the honey dew between her nether lips proving she loved receiving her punishments as much as he loved giving them. He slapped her with punishing force, making his own hand sting as he painted the entire lower half of her bottom red.

  After a few minutes, her whimpers grew louder and came with each swat. Her little bottom tightened, buns gripping as if that would protect them against the steady onslaught of his spanking.

  He watched as her slender fingers wrapped into the covers of his bed. When she took the fabric into her teeth and began to tear at it, he stopped. Reaching for the baby oil, he trickled a stream over her crack, smiling when she jerked. He rubbed the oil into her blazing cheeks, then gave a few more slaps, knowing the oil made them sting all the worse.

  “Daddy’s going to punish your bottom hole, Lulu. You were a very naughty girl.”

  She moaned into the covers.

  He parted her cheeks with the fingers of one hand, holding them open as he dragged the carrot through the oil, using it to paint her anus.

  She attempted to squeeze her cheeks together, but a low growl from him put an end to that.

  “Open for Daddy.”

  He sensed her forced relaxation as she sank deeper into submission, her puckering hole tightening and releasing. He applied steady pressure and she blew out her breath as the sphincter opened and let in the carrot.

  “Good girl.”

  He pressed the narrow, tapered end in and out, getting her used to the sensation before he began to plunge it to the full width. He’d cut a notch at the top to hold it in and he eased it toward the widest part now.

  Her tight hole spread to accommodate the carrot as he pushed it all the way up to the notch, where it settled. She panted as if she’d just run a marathon.

  “Tonight is about the carrot and the stick, Lulu. Normally, a carrot would be the reward, but in this case, both will be used for punishment.”

  She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder at him in confusion.

  He eased her off his lap, arranging her so she was bent over the edge of the bed. Picking up the cane, he tapped her bottom with it. “The carrot and the stick.”

  Her eyes rounded and he had the pleasure of watching her anus contract around the carrot, making it move inward, as if her ass would swallow it.

  He stood on her left side and put one hand on her lower back to hold her still. “Six strokes of the cane.”

  The alarm in her green eyes should not be so satisfying. But she trusted him. She lay perfectly still, waiting for his punishment.

  He tapped the cane several times on her ass, just below the carrot, perfecting his aim. Drawing it back, he let it swing.

  She lurched to her tiptoes with a scream.

  “I know, baby girl. This spanking will hurt, not just tonight but for a few days. I want you to remember how your lies hurt Daddy.”

  He was probably laying it on too thick. She already felt remorse, he was sure of that. But he was in full disciplinarian-mode now, and the words just seemed to come out of him. He tapped the cane again, just below the first stripe.

  Her shoulders hunched in anticipation.

  He let it fly, the swish of the thin rod through the air reaching his ears a moment before her next scream. A second red line streaked across both buttocks, just below the first. “That was two.” He didn’t make her count this time—he doubted she’d be able to.

  He repeated the tapping for the third line to prepare her skin for the strike. He delivered it with precision, pleased with how neat and even the welts lay.

  LuAnn had begun to cry softly in the covers, her face completely buried.

  He stroked her back. “You’re doing so well, baby girl. Just three more and we’re finished.”

  She gave a whimper of assent.

  Her ass made the most glorious sight. Her lower cheeks had been painted the prettiest shade of blush, the carrot nestled between them as a symbol of her complete humiliation. The cane marks stood out as raised, puffy lines, a darker red from her cheeks.

  And despite the pain, which he knew must be testing her limits, sweet honey dripped from her pussy.

  He wanted to bury his cock in that nectar and pound her into oblivion. He wanted to gather her into his arms and tell her how perfect she was, how utterly beautiful, sweet and undeniably his. But he also wanted to savor every moment of the spanking, which had him nearly dizzy with lust and the power coursing through him.

  He tapped the cane below the third line. He didn’t hold back. He made each stroke count, made his baby girl pay for her naughtiness. He laid the fifth line at the juncture where buttocks meet thighs and the sixth on the back of the thighs. She howled the loudest for that one, her feet dancing.

  “It’s over, it’s all over, baby.” He scooped her into his arms and settled her on his lap. “You’re my baby, my sweet little girl.” He showered her face, eyelids and tears with butterfly kisses.

  She sobbed, then sniffled, then cried a bit more. When she started to play with the buttons on his shirt, he eased her head back to wipe her tears away.

  “Are you hungry, baby doll?”

  She shook her head, lifting her wet lashes shyly. “I just want Daddy.”

  He cupped her cheek and brought his lips to hers, kissing her, teasing her pretty pout with his tongue. “I love you, baby girl.”

  Her arms tightened around his neck. “Is Daddy going to…”

  He waited, even though he knew what she wanted.

  “Do we need to wait for our wedding night?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “No, we’re not waiting for our wedding night. But I’m not sure I should allow you to have any pleasure.”

  The eyelashes dropped. No complaints, no protests.

  “That doesn’t mean Daddy doesn’t get to come.”

  Her green eyes lifted again and she sat up a little straighter, as if eager to be of service.

  He cupped her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. “Are you ready for Daddy to use your little body for his pleasure?”

  She blushed and sucked on her lip, nodding.

  “Good girl.” He lifted her from his lap and arranged a heap of pillows in the middle of the bed. “Lie over these so Daddy can take you hard from behind.”

  Her eyes rolled back, lust evident in the way she arched her breasts up and hollowed her back. She looked so much like a Hollywood pinup—no, better than a Hollywood pinup girl. Curvy and delectable, but with pigtails and a little girl pout. His cock throbbed to be inside her.

  She knelt up and tipped her torso down over the pillows, her bottom lifted in the air.

  “Spread your legs,” he said hoarsely.

  She parted her delicious thighs.

  He shucked his pants and skivvies and knelt behind her, parting her cheeks to ogle the carrot still stuffed in her back hole. He moved it in and out, stretching her hole wider.

  She groaned, the juices of her pussy dribbling down her leg.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Lulu.” He ripped open a condom and rolled it over his cock. He rubbed the head over her swollen slit.

  Her pussy was still virgin-tight, barely parting to allow him in. He pushed on the carrot again and she arched back into him, her little cunt opening to accept his dick.

  “That’s it, good girl,” he murmured in
encouragement, as she squeaked.

  He eased in until the front of his pelvis contacted her welted bottom, and she squirmed from the renewed pain. He pumped in and out, slapping her sore bottom each time. “It’s like another spanking, isn’t it, Lulu?”

  Her pussy gushed in response, squeezing his cock. He loved that her body responded to his dominance. They were made for each other—two halves of a whole.

  “Oh, please, Daddy,” she moaned.

  He pounded into her harder, his balls contracting. Cum shot down his shaft and he continued to slam into her three more times, then buried himself deep in her sopping channel and came.

  LuAnn came too. Her muscles gripped his cock, milking it with the flutters of her release.

  He eased down, covering her body with his own, kissing her neck. “You took your pleasure without asking Daddy permission,” he murmured.

  She looked back at him, confusion in her glassy eyes.

  He smirked. “Your body belongs to me. That means you need to ask permission to come.”

  Her eyes rolled back again, a shiver running through her. “Thank you, Daddy,” she mumbled.

  He laughed. “Trust me, baby girl, the pleasure was all mine.”

  Chapter Seven

  LuAnn fidgeted with her gloves, tugging at the wrists to adjust them. She laced her fingers in her lap. She opened and closed her purse a dozen times, just to hear it snap.

  “It’ll be all right,” Brad soothed as he guided the car into their parent’s driveway, although his jaw looked tight and he’d spoken very little on the drive.

  She’d begun to panic about an hour before, running through all the possible scenarios. It probably wouldn’t be all right. They would be disowned. And forever cast out.

  Brad walked around and opened her door, taking her hand to guide her out of the Thunderbird. She yanked it out of his grasp when the front door opened.

  Jane Walters, her stepmother, came out, a broad grin on her face. “Well, what a surprise! Two of our children home to visit at once—such a delight.” She drew her son in for a kiss, then bestowed one on LuAnn. “Please come in, sweetheart, your father will be delighted.”