by Gunn, Autumn
BOLT
A Stepbrother Seduction
Autumn Gunn
Copyright © Autumn Gunn
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in case of critical articles or reviews who may quote brief passages to be published in a magazine, newspaper, online or other media.
If you have not purchased this book from Amazon you are reading a pirated book.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
NOTE: All characters in the book are 18+ years of age, non-blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the American soldier. When their country calls, they go. Willingly.
They take our place on the battlefield. Everything at risk.
Stay safe.
Thank you.
We love you.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
“Get off me, Bolt!” My stepsister laughed hysterically as I held her down in a tickle battle.
“You’re gonna get it, Zoe,” I said. She definitely deserved whatever I was dishing out. She had removed my rifle bolt. Again. Last time it was an innocent joke. This time it was before inspection with the platoon sergeant. I was reamed a new one right there in front of the whole platoon. And at the same time I was given a new nickname.
“Lance Corporal Dawson. What in the hell do we have here? A rifle with no rifle bolt. Automatic inspection failure! You better shape up and start shitting me Tiffany cuff links, Lance Corporal…Bolt!” The Platoon sergeant could barely contain his anger. The balls and recklessness of me handing him a rifle with no bolt during an inspection. I was in the shit now. And I was in deep.
“You should learn to properly assemble your weapon,” my stepsister countered between laughs. She tried to pull my head down into the pillow she had placed on top of her chest to smother me so she could make a quick escape. No such luck. I was too strong.
“Oh, you think you’re a comedian, huh?” I said.
“Not as much as you. Handing a rifle with no bolt to the platoon sergeant during inspection!” She rolled in laughter. Wiggling to try and escape my grasp. Not a chance.
“You little shit!” I said and continued tickling her sides. The other Marines in the barracks looked on in a combination of astonishment and amusement. It was weird both personally and professionally. Stepsiblings, Marines, tickle wrestling in the barracks in front of everyone to see. For us it was normal. We had grown up together since we were both nine. The first time we met she shook my hand with a shocker concealed in her grip. I wondered who this crazy girl was…and more importantly how in the hell I was going to get her back. We’ve been best friends since. Plotting little schemes and pranks. Always trying to one-up the other. Never a moment of rest. You let down your guard and you were certain to become a source of laughter for the other. The butt of the next joke.
“Alright, alright! I’m sorry, you big lug,” she said as her laughter slowed. I stopped and let her up. “It was just a little innocent fun.”
“I’m gonna hear it from everyone in the platoon. The platoon sergeant might even put it in my record! I might even get in real trouble,” I said. She just laughed.
“Well, at least you’ll learn how to assemble your rifle better when they make you practice about 500 times a day.”
“Fuck you, Zoe,” I said.
“In your dreams,” she said. I stopped to catch my breath. Held serious eye contact with her. Thinking of my next move.
“What’s going on in there?” The NCO on barracks duty asked as he entered the room.
“Nothing, Corporal,” I said. Zoe trying to hold back her laughter.
“Aren’t you Lance Corporal Bolt?” The NCO asked. My whole room erupted in laughter.
“Ooh-rah, Corporal!” Zoe shot out as her prank from earlier that day had taken a life of its own. Using her enthusiastic reply to commend the Corporal on his choice of words.
“No Corporal. I’m squared away. Good-to-go. A hard charging Marine.”
“Not what I’ve heard, shit bird,” he replied and walked out.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I said and Zoe used the safety of the NCO’s presence to escape back to her room. My buddies still lounging around ready to continue the humor at my expense.
Zoe and I had entered the Marines on the buddy program. It was unusual to say the least. Usually the buddy program was just that, two buddies from the same neighborhood. Sure, Zoe and I were buddies, but we were a boy and a girl. And even stranger, a brother and sister. Stepbrother and stepsister, but still.
The Corps had accepted our request to join together. They guaranteed us both an early promotion to Lance Corporal and that we would be stationed together. And after four years of service we could go to university on the G.I. Bill. Not a bad deal, especially for two kids of limited financial means.
Zoe’s mom had run off with some guy from France so my mom took over the role of mother in her life. My dad and I were still on good terms, but he was too caught up in making millions on Wall Street. A job first, family second, type-a personality. I spent a lot more time with Zoe’s dad, Zach, and considered him my father. He had taken us camping a lot when we were kids. Developing our love for the outdoors and showing us how to trust others, especially in extreme circumstances like downpours in the middle of the forest or when food was hard to come by. He showed us how to catch and clean fish. And why we must share our catch to keep our little camping teams strong. One for all and all for one he always said. No man left behind, to which of course Zoe would remind him, or woman left behind.
It was a great childhood. Zach, mom, Zoe, and I. Zoe and I were best friends as kids. She even played on my all-boys little league team. The only girl in the neighborhood to do so. She said if I could play baseball, then she sure could too. And she was right. She became our shortstop on days I pitched and pitched on days I played shortstop. Just like camping, we relied on each other on the ball field.
As we hit puberty and entered high school our relationship changed. I can’t really say the exact moment or how, but we both could just sense it. Something was different. We were becoming young adults now. Maybe that’s just the natural progression. I wasn’t really sure.
“You’re gonna pay for that one!” Zoe shouted the next afternoon back in my room.
“Well, if you punch as accurately as you shoot I won’t even have to dodge your punches.” It was first day of qualification at the rifle range. I heard the snap of her first shot. I pulled the target down. She hit bull’s-eye. Dead center. Impressive. I covered the original hole, stuck in the four-inch marker a foot to the right, and raised it back up so she could see where she hit. Or where I wanted her to think she hit. I counted the seconds as I knew she was making adjustments from her position 200 yards away. Snap. A second shot. Dead bull’s-eye again. She didn’t believe the mark. Smart girl. I covered the original hole again, marked a foot right again, and raised the target. At that point she doesn’t know if I’m messing with h
er or if she’s off. About 30 seconds go by. Snap. A third shot. She’s way left. Of course, just as I had guided her. This time I marked near the original hole, but low. This game continued the rest of the afternoon.
“Jerk!” She replied and stormed off.
“See you at the chow hall…if you can find it with any accuracy,” I said and walked off. She was angry, but she still couldn’t hold back a little smile. As much grief as we gave each other I always enjoyed it. Even on the receiving end. That just meant it was my turn to try and outfox her. These daily pranks and one-ups were all we had known. I wonder what it would be like with out it. Probably pretty boring.
“Did you figure out where your were shots were off?” I asked as I took another bite of my pork and beans.
“No,” she said.
“What are you going to do then?” I asked.
“I’m just going to have my spotter use higher powered binoculars tomorrow so I know where I hit. No matter where you mark it.” I liked her answer. It was non-combative. She was simply sure of herself and had found a solution. I like smart girls. Girls who don’t give up. Girls with a determination to figure things out and overcome obstacles. Zoe was definitely the toughest and most determined girl I know.
“Your spotter won’t be quick enough for me,” I shot back.
“Wanna bet?”
“Yeah, how much?”
“Loser has to eat a whole bottle of chocolate syrup in under ten minutes.”
“You’re on.” It was little games like this that made things especially fun in the field. Raising the stakes.
“See you at the barracks, Bolt.” Zoe cleared her tray and gave me a hip check to the shoulder as she took off. As she walked away I noticed something was different. Her confidence was sky high. It was always high, but now especially so. When she hip checked me I naturally swatted back at her hip area. I just missed giving her a quick slap on the ass as she turned to avoid the slap. She stuck out her tongue and continued on her way. I noticed something as she walked away. Her ass was big, round, and looked like a perfect apple ready to pick and enjoy. I had never noticed it, especially under her camouflage fatigues. I knew she was in good shape, but how did she keep that big butt?
“Damn, Bolt. Your stepsister has a nice ass,” Private First Class Perry said.
“Cut it out man!”
“Hey, you can’t blame me. I saw you looking too.” He was right. I didn’t have much of a reply to that one, but there was no way I was going to let somebody talk about my stepsister that way.
“I catch anybody checking her out or making a move on her and they’re gonna get it.”
“OK, man. OK. Calm down. I was just having a little fun. Why’re you wound so tight today?”
He was right. I normally could take a joke better than anyone, but not when it came to Zoe. Not when it came to my stepsister. She was a tough girl, but I was still her stepbrother. I’m going to watch out for her and do whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe. And that nobody is disrespecting her behind her back.
I guess it’s one thing when you’re almost forced by your parents to like your siblings. Our situation was never like that. When two families come together you can always expect some time for the kids and parents to get to know each other. Some acclimation. Working things out. Not us. I remember the first day we moved into Zoe’s house. She showed me a secret fort she had been working on all summer and asked me if I wanted to help her finish it up. She trusted me right away. She welcomed me in with open arms. I knew right away we were going to have some great adventures together.
I saw Zoe in her barracks room after chow playing PlayStation.
“Sorry.” I said standing behind her.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Just a few minutes. I felt bad about what happened with you at the rifle qualification range. It’s going to take you a day or two to catch up on your adjustments. Once you get it figured out it will be time for qualification. I made it tough on you.”
“I can’t say I didn’t deserve it,” she admitted.
“Isn’t it crazy how we’ve been doing this so long? Over half of our lives now.”
“Yeah, but I sure do enjoy it.”
“You’re right. Life would be so boring without our fun. Without you.”
Zoe put down her controller. She looked me in the eye with a certain calmness. I couldn’t tell if she was calling a truce, or just caught off card by my apology. An apology that would surely be disregarded in the next 24 hours when she exacted her revenge in some unexpecting way.
“It’s like we hate it, but we love it. Kind of a love hate, but actually there’s not hate at all,” she was talking herself through an answer she already fully understood.
“Exactly,” I agreed.
“Do you see any of the other Marines acting the way we do?”
“They play a lot of pranks. That’s for sure. There’s something different with us though. We’re different. In a good way. We do more pranks and they’re always just on each other. Like our own personal game.”
“You’re right. Here we are surrounded by all these jokers, and the only one we want to play jokes on is each other.”
I laughed. “Yeah, kind of funny for two young adults to act this way. Especially in such a structured and disciplined environment.”
“Yeah, but there’s always that thought in the back of everyone’s minds. This is real. We could be in a life or death situation tomorrow. Better to enjoy each day as they come. Make the most of them. Especially with those who are closest to us.”
“And we are definitely the closest. We’re brother and sister. Sure it’s stepbrother and sister, but I never thought of it that way. You’re the only sister I’ve ever known. The only one I would have ever wanted.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely besties. There are other guys who are my friends, but you’re number one. Always. We’re always going to be family.”
“True. And if you can’t be yourself, no matter how crazy that is, around your family then who can you be yourself around?”
“Amen.”
“Wow. This is getting deep.”
“Deeper than the cavern that you call a brain.”
“Shut up, Bolt!”
“OK, Wide Right!”
“Wide Right! Hell no. I was dead center. That’s your fault.”
“That’s not what everybody at the rifle range thinks.”
“I’ll show them on qualification day.”
“Oh, and speaking of rifles. I see you already decided to play hide-and-seek with my rifle parts again.”
“Moi?”
“Oh, you speak French now, huh?”
“And what makes you think it was me?”
“Because the note was in your handwriting.”
“So you found it.”
“Yeah, I found it. Of course I found it. Just a little gift in your M16s buttstock because you’re an ass. You’re so clever. Maybe you were a French poet in a prior lifetime.”
“Congratulations. I didn’t expect you to figure that one out so quickly. Now I have the whole night to figure out a better way get you.”
“I’m not letting my guard down. Especially not before the make-up rifle inspection for the one I failed.”
“And to think I almost had your new nickname of Lance Corporal Bolt changed to Lance Corporal Butt. Not sure if that’s a downgrade or an upgrade.”
“You little shit! I’ll show you a bolt.” I lunged out at Zoe, catching both her hands in mine. I picked her up and threw her on the bed. She was wiggling trying to escape and laughing hysterically at the same time. With my free hand I pulled off my web belt and tied her hands to the bed. Grabbed her by the hips. She was still trying to squirm away. Really trying hard. I pulled her belt out through the loops and belted her feet to the foot of the bed. She was straight up and down like the letter I. “Now who’s bolted down?”
“Let me go,” she demanded.
I continued tickling
her everywhere. Her armpits, ribs, feet…any skin I could find. I lifted up the bottom of her olive green shirt and blew on her stomach.
“Cut it out! That tickles.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Go screw yourself!”
I made a buzzer sound. “Wrong! The punishment will continue until morale improves.” I had always wanted to say that line. It was a favorite of our drill instructors back in recruit training.
I continued blowing on her stomach. My right hand holding up her shirt and my left hand trying to keep her pinned down. During the twisting and turning and tickling I pulled her shirt up higher than I expected. I blew again. When I lifted my head for another blow I realized I was no longer blowing on her stomach. I had just blown right in the middle of her chest. Not only that, in the course of all the wiggling I had pulled her shirt up to her neck. Both of her breasts were exposed. Her nipples hard. She looked up at me. We held eye contact for about five seconds.
