Forced Lesbian Submission Books 11-13 Read online

  She looks at me and I have the faintest feeling that she's examining my body. I'm not embarrassed by my body: After all, I was a stripper. Even in my early thirties, I'm still rail thin with large breasts. You don't just lose that when you go straight. Although I'm a good 12 years older than Cindy, I almost look younger than her. It's probably one of the things that's created tension between us. I look strangely young to be with her father and it probably embarrasses her.

  But the way she's checking out my body, I'm the one who feels embarrassed at the moment

  “Do you mind?”

  She shakes her head, not taking her eyes off me.

  I sigh and grab a shirt to throw over me.

  After a good 30 seconds, she still hasn't said anything. I'm exhausted, so I need to get her going so she can leave. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  She looks at me and her smile breaks wider. She pauses, thinking about her words. She then utters something that causes my breath to catch. “I don't know. Is there anything you can do for me, Crystal?”

  My heart skips a beat and I swallow if only to restart my breathing. “W-what did you say?”

  “Are you talking about how I called you Crystal?” she asks, pretending like she didn't understand my question.

  I can't believe that she would know that. But I want to keep playing dumb, just in case she really doesn't know what that means. I don't want to say something and reveal anything that she doesn't actually know. “Why would you call me that?”

  She smiles again and walks over to my closet. She heads to the corner and reaches up, grabbing a shoe box and pulling it down.

  “What are you doing in my closet? Why were you in there?” I can barely breathe as I know exactly what she's pulling down.

  “To be honest, I was looking for money. I just found this instead,” she says, opening the lid and spilling the contents onto the bed. Out falls pictures, love letters, stashed money, and lingerie and a costume. All the evidence of my past stripping I knew—I goddamn knew—I should have destroyed.

  But it was a big part of my past. I was a stripper for 8 years before I decided to go straight because I wanted to find a normal life, away from the stigma of dancing. Even then, it still defined me. It was something I enjoyed, and I was reluctant to give it up. I didn't want to forget, so I kept a bunch of mementos of my time working the clubs. Things like pictures of me dancing in my white silk thong, love letters from creepy but endearing patrons, and money left over in case things went south.

  And the nurse costume I danced in.

  I want to move past it, but I never want to let go.

  And now my stepdaughter has seen it all because of that. I never wanted anyone to find out.

  “You had quite a past there, mom.” Her tone shifts again when she says 'mom'. “Does dad know?”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. At least she hasn't told Dave. I shake my head. “No.”

  “So what were you, a whore?” she condescends.

  “No,” I reply, “I was a stripper.”

  She snorts, “You know, I kind of had a feeling.”

  I don't think she knew at all. I think she just knew she wanted to find something bad on me, if only to hold it over my head. Now she's found the mother of all secrets.

  “You can't tell anyone.”

  “I already told my friends. I couldn't help it; it was too funny.”

  I blush. “Mary and Steph?” Those were the two girls in the other room.

  She nods.

  “Anyone else?”

  She shakes her head. “Not yet.”

  Those words pierce through me. She has a piece of information about me she can share with anyone she wants, a piece of information that would ruin me. No one would ever—ever--look at me the same if they knew about it. There's too much of a stigma and people will never forget something like that. I'd be a pariah in my family as well as Dave's family, and I know they'd spend all their time talking behind my back.

  But there's nothing I can do to stop her.

  I merely repeat myself, but this time pleading as best I can. “Please, you can't tell anyone. It would be awful if people found out.”

  “I'm sure it would be. Especially if dad found out.” Cindy can barely contain her mirth at the idea of Dave learning the truth. That thought scares the shit out of me. I know Dave loves me, but he's ultraconservative and a little bit of a prude. If he found out, I have no idea how he'd react. I have the feeling he wouldn't be able to look past it. It's just not his personality.

  “It's all in the past,” I say. “I've left that life behind. It's not something I've done in a long time, definitely before I met your dad.”

  “Why should I lie to my dad?”

  “It's not lying. You're just not telling him. He's never going to ask you anything about my past. Why would he think you knew that?”

  She thinks for a moment. “What if he asks me what I think of you? You don't think the fact that you were once a stripper wouldn't taint my opinion of you?”

  Jesus, she's right. If her dad asks her that, and she says that she doesn't care much for me, then he'd have to ask why. It could so easily unravel.

  “It's just a little white lie.”

  “But it's still a lie.”

  I swallow. “Is there anything I can do to get you to keep my secret?”

  Cindy smiles, and it's a smile I've seen so many times before in my clients. It's one coated in lust and desire, one that's thinking about what they can do to me, how they can use me.

  I mean, she's gotta be thinking about something else, right? Like car rides whenever she wants or money for school. Something practical.

  “I want you to dance for me and my friends.”

  Nope. It's that same fucking lust I knew it to be. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I want to see how good you are. It's not like I can be proud of someone who works a call center. I want to see the thing you were good at.”

  I did excel at it, and I made some amazing money. I've danced for plenty of women before as well, but this it my stepdaughter!

  I don't want to insult her, make her mad, make her act out by telling everyone, but it's such a weird request. “What's to keep you from telling your father anyway?”

  “Because I keep my word. Because I've never stripped before. At least I have integrity,” she scoffs, dismissing me easily.

  I blush. Avoiding being looked down-on has been my entire goal so far, so seeing it happen for the first time is utterly humiliating. I don't want it to happen again.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Put on that lingerie,” she says, motioning to the lace thong and bra that came out of my bag. “And your costume you used. I want to see it in full effect.”

  On the bed was my nurse's costume. It was one of my clients' favorite: sexy nurse Crystal is hear to take care of you, big boy! The top was a low-cut, white, button-down jacket, with a red cross on the shoulder. When worn, it showed ample cleavage and my lace bra underneath. The bottom was a mini-skirt that barely was long enough to cover my thong.

  I sigh. I'm trapped and I don't think there's anything I can do to escape. But the thought crosses my mind that I'm about to strip again. The first time in so long. It oddly feels exciting. I don't know what to think about that.

  “When you're ready, give me 10 minutes. I'll get my friends ready for it.” She looks away, coming up with a plan, “Don't say anything. Just come in and start dancing. They won't know you're coming, but I'll get them in the mood.”

  She leaves, closing the door, and I start to get dressed. The lacy fabric against my body feels like home, and the adrenaline of stripping—as well as being blackmailed—is surging through me. I'm about to get naked for my stepdaughter and her two friends! I don't know them that well, but they've only seen as an authority figure, as well as completely dressed.

  It's about to get weird.

  I wait the ten minutes and head to her room. I stop outside and listen through
the door. A slow jazz is playing in the background, but I can hear moans and lips smacking through the door. Is that porn she's playing on her TV?

  I swallow, my hand shaking as I reach for the door knob. I stop myself and take a big breath. I close my eyes, thinking back to how I used to calm my nerves before entering the stage. I think about power, being in control, about how those men were there to see me. I focus on that, using it to repress my anxiety. That's what I need. I need to go back to when this was a normal occurrence.

  I take one more deep breath and open the door.

  “Come on, Mary,” Cindy says, “I just wanted to try and watch some lesbian porn for once. You'll be all right.”

  The girls are sitting on the bed, focused on the TV. Mary's got a big smile on her face, giggling at what's going on on the screen. Steph is intense, though, focusing on the girl plowing the other girl doggystyle with a strap-on. Is this something Cindy's done before, watching porn with her friends? They are sitting on the edge of the bed apart from each other, but it seems like a strange pastime.

  They don't notice me until I close the door. They all look at me with horror on their faces.

  “Mrs. Lymon?!” Mary exclaims.

  Cindy calmly lowers the volume on the TV to a better level, but doesn't make a move to turn it off. “Jesus, mom! Don't you knock?” She clearly sounds rehearsed, but only I know that. Her friends are too embarrassed by me walking in to notice.

  She didn't want me to talk, probably so I wouldn't give anything away. She wants it to look like I'm the one who chose to do this, to strip out of my own accord. She's not the lesbian; I am. I'm the lowly stripper, after all.

  “What are you wearing?” Steph asks, noticing my sexy and enticing nurse's outfit.

  I want to feel embarrassed that I'm doing this, but instead I feel incredibly sexy and charged. I feel powerful but vulnerable, which is something I've never felt before stripping. I've only ever chosen to feel power when I'm in my element. But I'm not choosing to do this; I'm being made to do it.

  And that thought instantly makes my pussy pulse.

  I take a deep breath and focus on the smooth jazz coming from the TV. It's not the best music for dancing, but it's better than nothing. I listen to the beat and close my eyes, swaying my hips to the drums.

  “What are you doing, Mrs. Lymon?!” Mary says, gripping the bed, and scurrying up onto it.

  I start my dance, working my hips round, swinging them from side to side. It's not often I have to dance with nothing to aid me. I always had a pole or a lap to dance on. It feels incredibly awkward standing in the middle of the room dancing with nothing.

  As much as I don't want to, I think I need to approach someone so I don't feel so awkward. I can't approach Cindy; she might know what's going on, but she's my stepdaughter, and I can't give her the satisfaction of me picking her.

  Instead I turn toward Steph, who is intensely focused on me, just like she was the porno. I can see it in her eyes. She's not scared of what's going on, like Mary. She's turned on by what's happening!

  And she's gorgeous, too. Red hair to her shoulders and a low cut top showing off her bountiful tits, she would have to be one of the more beautiful—and young—girls I've ever danced for. It would actually be a pleasure to get her going.

  I approach her and place my hands on her bare knees, uncovered by ridiculously short shorts. She leans back and puts her hands on the bed. It looks like she's pulling away, but she's actually bracing herself from my touch.

  I turn and place my ass on her lap, grinding into it. I work slowly, using my plump ass as a soft cushion against her body.

  “Damn, mom,” Cindy smiles, “Who knew you could work it like that? You're kind of slutty.”

  There she goes, making it seem like it's all my idea. But I just have to ignore her and do my work.

  I continue to grind on Steph. I place my hands on her knees and push them apart, meeting no resistance from the young college girl. I grind my ass into her pussy, leaning back against her, laying my neck onto her shoulder. I can feel her turn her head toward me, her breathing picking up as her moist breath caresses my neck.

  Cindy reaches over and undoes a button on my jacket.

  I rush to stand up to stop her, which makes the situation infinitely awkward as I almost feel like covering myself.

  “Mom, you're still dressed too much,” Cindy says, showing a little aggression.

  “That's your mother, Cindy,” Mary squeaks.

  “I know how to do this,” I say, trying to keep Cindy from getting angry. So I unbutton my top and drop it, revealing my white, lacy bra. Then I turn and bend over at the waist, dropping my skirt seductively, slowly revealing my thick, thonged ass to the girls, which is definitely my greatest asset.

  This time I go toward Mary, who's still off the edge and a littler further up the bed. I climb the bed and crawl up to her. I push her legs down and I crawl over her body.

  The look on her face is precious. She's scared, but so much so that she's unwilling to move.

  “M-m-mrs...” she says, trailing off.

  Her timidity is adorable, one of my favorite things I got to experience while stripping. It only adds to my confidence, making me feel a little more in control of the situation.

  I dip my face close to her shorts and work my way up her tank top mere inches away from her. I get close to her lips, tempting her with a kiss, but pass her lips by, allowing her a full view of my large cleavage. She falls back flat on the bed, overcome by nervousness.

  I straddle her lap, her legs straight out on the bed, and lean back, bracing myself with my arms. I snake my waist toward her, thrusting my hips toward her face, grinding my panties on her stomach.

  I feel a hand comb over the curve of my lower back and I jump.

  “No touching,” I say as I look back at Cindy.

  “I think you need to do me next,” she smirks.

  The thing I've been avoiding: dancing up against my stepdaughter. But I can't avoid it anymore, lest I upset her and she spills the beans to Dave. I know this was what she wanted when she caught me red-handed.

  I climb off of Mary and circle back to Cindy. I sit on her lap and she immediately spreads her legs. The thought of my ass grinding my daughter's young pussy sends a shiver down my spine, and I inwardly chastise myself at my own arousal.

  Stripping and dancing have never really turned me on before. It's always just been a job. But now I'm not doing a job; I'm being blackmailed into grinding on my daughter and her friends. That lack of control is what's really making my pussy quake. I'm fucking sick in the head.

  I place my hands on her knees, grinding her pussy hard to the beat of the music, watching the two lesbians fuck each other on the TV. With the porn running in the background, nothing has made me feel quite as used as I do now.

  I feel her hands circle my waist and I gently remove them out of instinct. “No touching,” I say.

  “Fine,” she huffs, like a little child who's been denied, “then take your bra off.”

  No one's ever commanded me while I danced. It was always my prerogative at what pace I went. It throws me off a little, but I nod and undo the straps. My large breasts fall from their cups, and for the first time in years, I'm naked in front of other people. And for the first time ever, one of those people is my stepdaughter.

  I glide my ass up and down her thighs, her summer shorts offering no resistance to my plush rump. Just as I'm about to move, Cindy wraps her arms under my shoulders and yanks me back. My head falls next to hers, my neck outstretched on her shoulder. Her hands grab onto my tits, kneading them forcefully.

  I feel my pussy tingle as she whispers into my ear, “I touch you whenever I want, slut.” Her fingers clamp and pinch my nipples, pulling them erect with the lightest touch. She kisses my neck lightly and I squirm on her lap.

  As much as she may think it, I'm not a whore. No one's ever touched me like this while I've been dancing on them. They've always respected my space and kept thei
r touches light and decent. Cindy, on the other hand, is touching me forcefully, kneading my tits like a girl lost in herself. My own stepdaughter is treating me like an object more than any of the men in the clubs did. I have the sudden feeling that my stepdaughter wants to fuck me, and she's willing to do it in front of her friends.

  My pussy soaks as her two friends watch me get molested by my daughter.

  This is wrong! I shouldn't be doing this. I should just admit my past to Dave and let what happens, happen. He might forgive me for that, but I know if he ever found this out, he definitely won't forgive me for this.

  I try to pull up, escape her grasp, but she's a lot stronger than she looks.

  “Stop,” I whisper, trying to stop it but still trying to be polite, my fear of upsetting her and her revealing my past conflicting with my desire to leave.

  I try to move again, but this time she takes her legs and loops them from under and brings them over my legs, wrapping them and keeping me pinned to her and the bed, while spreading my thighs with her feet.

  My panties are now in clear view as my legs are held open. I can feel myself getting wetter as I'm trapped in Cindy's grasp.

  “You like what you see Steph?” Cindy asks.

  I look over at Steph and moan lightly. Her eyes are round and she's consumed with lust.

  She looks into my eyes and stutters, “I-I can't believe this is happening.”

  Cindy says, “Come on, Steph. I know you've always been interested in experimenting with girls. She's my mom. She does what I say. You can do whatever you want to her.”

  Steph looks to Cindy but then back to me. I bite my lip, caught up in being offered like a piece of meat to my daughter's friend.

  Steph hesitates but not for long. She leans into me, kissing my lips with her soft, young nubile ones. The taste of this beautiful college girl is sweet, the smell of her fruity perfume intense. I moan as Cindy tweaks my nipples, and Steph bites my lip as my mouth opens to hers.

  “Come on, Mary,” Cindy says, “Now's your chance to do something new. My mom's open for business. You might not get the chance again.”