I let my stepson fuck me without mercy

He didn't ask twice. The moment you turned away from the counter, his hands were already at your hips, grip firm, possessive — like he'd been rehearsing this in his head for months.

You told yourself you'd stop him. You didn't. Instead you braced against the wall and let him take exactly what he wanted, the way only someone with something to prove knows how.

No tenderness, no hesitation. Just the sharp rhythm of consequence, your breath knocked short with every push, fingertips white against the paint.