Taboo Step Surrender (Steamy Twenty Book Box Set) Read online

  20 Book Taboo Romance Box Set

  By Virginia Steply

  Copyright 2015 Virginia Steply

  All Rights Reserved

  Warning! This TABOO box set includes themes that may not be suitable for all audiences.

  Table of Contents

  Punished By My Step-Daddy

  Dirty, Naughty, Sexy, Steps

  Trained by my BIG Step

  Sins Between Steps

  Step-Brother Heat

  My Step Sex Teacher

  Bound By My Step-Brother

  Daddy’s Naughty Little Girl

  Hot Flow

  Anything For Daddy’s Little Girl

  More Than A Step-Daddy

  Foreign Affairs; My Italian Step

  Craving My Step-Brother’s Tool

  Step-Brother; Hard Lessons

  The Soldier’s Little Step

  My Step Daddy’s Secret

  What My Step-Daddy Deserves

  Three Steps, One Night

  Punishing The Brat

  Down And Dirty Steps

  Punished By My Step-Daddy

  My stepfather, Robert, and I had the same routine every morning. I always got up early, and he did too.

  I guess other 19-year-old girls spent late nights up with their friends or clicking around on Facebook, or whatever, and then they slept in late. What other kids did didn’t really influence me much. I guess it didn’t help that most of the spoiled brats at my private high school were obnoxious and poisonously mean. I could care less about what they did when they weren’t snorting Adderall or whining. Maybe I was just a morning person. I yawned and cuddled a little deeper into the big easy chair, where I was curled up, my legs under a blanket. I could see the sun rising in the cloudless sky, slowly illuminating the Arizona desert outside my window. I liked getting up early, usually a couple hours before school, and getting lost in a book while I drank my coffee.

  Now that school was finally out and I was heading off to college in a few months, I still liked to head downstairs and read. On the days I had to lifeguard, I would eventually put my book away around nine or so, then jump in my new BMW and drive to the pool. It was sleek and black and I would have felt totally spoiled and conspicuous driving it, if it weren’t for the heavily tinted windows, which matched the dark color and personality of the car perfectly. Not that it stood out at the country club anyway, parked next to brand-new Mercedes and Audis.

  Everyone thinks your life is so easy when you’re rich.

  I wondered what would people think if they could see those awful, spoiled kids I was surrounded with at school. The dirty secret of being rich was that your parents were usually too wrapped up in their high-powered careers to raise you properly, or give you real attention; couple that with being handed anything you could ever want, and you had a nightmare recipe for narcissism and lack of impulse control.

  Sometimes, I wondered why I wasn’t more screwed-up.

  My mom was your typical rich dilettante, addicted to Percocet and so self-absorbed that she could barely manage herself, let alone a raise a daughter. Needless to say, I’d grown up quickly, figuring things out on my own and becoming independent beyond my years. It was technically my mom’s job to pay the bills, but she never did, and I’d been doing it ever since I was 11 or so.

  I still remember the day I started paying the bills: a truly miserable Arizona summer day, a 110-degree scorcher in June, when the air conditioning got shut off. That was a few years before she divorced my stepdad and left the country for Switzerland. I helped support him through the ordeal, and as strange as it sounds, we’d gotten close and became a tight-knit family of two. I understood how stressful his job was, and I always tried to make his life a little easier...if those ways didn’t quite match your stereotypical bratty-teenager-and-beleaguered-father dynamic-well, that didn’t matter to me. We were close. He was the senior sales manager of Arizona’s largest evaporative-cooler manufacturer. That was a pretty stressful job. I would be there to help him deal with the day’s stress, just listen to him if he needed me to.

  And I could count on him to spoil his little girl, despite all my protestations.

  I looked outside at our quiet neighborhood street. It was in an older, upscale neighborhood, with beautiful houses perched on a desert hillside above Tucson. My stepdad was probably out for his run. It was Saturday, and he would run as long as he could before heading to the office for a couple hours to keep tabs on things, but the soaring temperatures during the day usually brought him in around ten or so.

  “Hey, Pumpkin,” he said, opening the door. He looked flushed and relaxed after his run, and his clothes were soaked in sweat from the long, hot slog back up the hill to our house.

  “Hey dad,” I said smiling. I fought the shiver that threatened to consume my body. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it—truth be told, I thought my stepfather was hot. Actually, I knew he was hot. He was gorgeous, with a chiseled body, thick blond hair, intelligent blue eyes, and a face that looked as masculine and perfectly sculpted as the rest of him. “You look really red,” I teased. “You know, if you spent less time working out, I’d probably have a new stepmom by now.”

  “Sure, honey,” he said. “I’ll get on that right away.”

  He pulled his sweaty shirt off, and I flicked my eyes towards the window uncomfortably. I didn’t want to stare. He was ripped. Every square inch of him was cut; abs, shoulders, his chest; everything. I let my eyes lick over his body for a second before I kept needling him.

  “You know,” I said, “you could probably find someone through Internet dating.”

  “Jesus Christ, that sounds like a real nightmare.” I tried to stifle a giggle. “I’d probably just stumble upon another nut-case like your mom.” I smiled.

  “I made you a couple eggs. I figured you’d be returning soon.”

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, wandering into the kitchen.

  I knew I shouldn’t, but I watched him walk away. His ass and legs looked tight and powerful, especially when he wore his running shorts, and his back was broad. Looking at the shape of his body, like an inverted triangle, with his narrow waist and broad, defined shoulders gave me a delightful shiver. Now that he wasn’t looking at me, I let myself drink in his body.

  “You still going out with that hippy boy?” he called from the kitchen.

  “His name’s Caleb.” I shouted back. I felt anxious. Ever since I’d started dating Caleb, my stepfather had seemed a little more on edge than usual. I wrote it off as him merely being protective.

  “Whatever. You still going out with him? When am I going to meet the girl who’s dating my daughter?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “Soon.” Let’s just say my stepfather was a bit on the old-fashioned, conservative side when it came to guys with long hair.

  He walked back into the room with a glass of orange juice, his expression serious. I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. “It’s time you did. I want to know what kind of person he is, if I can trust him.”

  I rolled my eyes. Caleb was nice and accommodating, a real gentleman. And so far, all we had done up to this point in our relationship was kiss; he even asked my permission, in a way that had totally killed the moment.

  “Just what do you see in that boy, anyway?” My stepfather’s face looked practically twisted with consternation.

  “Dad…geez.” I rolled my eyes again. I didn’t know how I could make him understand. We’d moved to Tucson last year, from an upscale suburb in Phoenix. It had been my senior year of high school, in a totally new town, in a private high school full of hostile kids. Caleb and his frien
ds were the only kids who were nice to me. They were a totally different crowd from the friends I’d had in Scottsdale: they were a hippy-ish, festival-going, easy-going group of people. We would spend long hours slack-lining and playing disk golf in Caleb’s yard (his dad was one of the largest land developers in Arizona, and their place was massive), and we would go for long hikes in the canyons above Tucson, in the Santa Catalina Mountains. And we did some things that I knew my stepdad would wholly disapprove of, like smoke weed. I hadn’t been crazy about it at first, but I was always around Caleb, and he smoked, so eventually I started, too. I felt nervous just thinking about my little pipe and the jar of buds in my panty drawer.

  “Don’t sweat it. I’m more-or-less teasing anyway. Are you still on for movie night?”

  My friends usually drove out to Reddington Pass on Saturday nights to look at the lights and get high, but I preferred to spend the time with my stepdad. It was sort of a father-daughter movie night. We’d been doing it for so long, ever since my mom left us, that not spending the time with him just felt wrong. Especially since I’d be leaving for college in a few short months. It was our time together. “Of course,” I said, glad that he had changed the subject.

  “Good.” He then leaned over and kissed my hair before mussing it affectionately. I secretly wished he was sitting with me in the big chair, and I could nuzzle his body and kiss him back, on the lips.

  Ugh, I thought as he walked away again, making my body ache with desire. I was almost happy that I was leaving him. I had to get this crazy obsession with my stepdad off my mind, lose these forbidden feelings and leave the nest to go and have a life of my own, dating normal boys and finally finding a group of friends I could really relate to.

  ****

  After my shift lifeguarding, I met Caleb at our favorite coffee shop downtown.

  “It’s called Sonic Emergence,” Caleb said, pulling a flyer for a music festival out of his backpack and setting it on the table in front of us.

  “Looks interesting,” I approved, running a hand through his blond dreadlocks. The flyer had some kind of weird, druggy fractal thing on it, in a bloom of swirling blue and purple colors.

  “I went last year, it was totally heady.” Heady. I wished he would stop using that word. Heady and trippy were definitely Caleb’s favorite adjectives, and I wished he would stop using them to describe absolutely everything, because they didn’t actually mean anything.

  “Charlie and I are camping with one of the artists. He works for a company that takes care of the artists on tour, getting their groceries, whatever. He’s going to throw me a couple hundred bucks to help him out. You should come. Last year was too trippy.”

  “Really?” I asked. The fact that Caleb was going to be helping his friend piqued my interest. I was thinking about a minor in hospitality management, and this seemed like a can’t-miss opportunity. If I could hustle my way in there and take Caleb’s job--which shouldn’t be too hard because he was such a slacker--I could get some real hands-on experience, something that would look good on a resume, something that would help me rise above the rest of the college grads four years from now when it came time to get a real job.

  Caleb was poking at his iPhone, oblivious to the gears that were turning in my head. “Haha,” he laughed, “check this out. It’s too heady.”

  “That’s really heady,” I said, stroking his dreadlocks and laughing at whatever was on his phone. “Hey,” I said, “I would love to go to Sonic Emergence.”

  “Really?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “Is your Nazi stepdad going to let you go?” I bristled inside at the way he talked about Robert.

  “Of course, babe,” I said. “You don’t think I can be persuasive?” I looked up at him seductively, my mouth open in a little pout. The flirtation didn’t register; maybe Caleb’s brain actually was fried from all the pot smoking. I guess I had to take the direct route. I reached down and pressed my fingers against his crotch. I wanted to fool around at least a little, before the summer passed us by.

  “Hey,” he said, “slow down, Panda.” Caleb liked to talk about how his spirit animal was a panda, and we had decided that I was one, too.

  We kissed. I hated the way he kissed me, so limp and slow. Why the fuck was he slowing me down? Way to kill the mood again.

  “Hey,” he said softly, “let’s take things to the next level at Sonic Emergence, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said softly, nibbling on his ear. His hand settled on my waist, and I exhaled heavily.

  “I want it to be a special experience for both of us,” he said, “it’ll be super heady, and it’ll be a great place to go further in our journey together."

  Good, I thought, we could finally mess around a little more. But why the fuck did Caleb have to act like such a girl? Special experience? Our fucking journey together? I had nasty fantasies about Caleb, bad thoughts about sucking his cock and letting him violate me in all kinds of ways. I liked indulging in them, least of all because it got my mind off Robert. Oh well. I guess I would just have to wait three weeks until the festival.

  I said good-bye to Caleb and swung by the video store on the way home.

  ****

  “What did you pick this time, pumpkin?” Robert asked as we settled onto the couch.

  “Dirty Harry,” I revealed. His eyes lit up. He loved Clint Eastwood. I always tried to pick movies he liked, and over the years, his tastes had rubbed off on me. I liked the same rough, alpha male characters he did.

  The TV froze half way through the credits. There must have been a scratch on the disc. I jumped off the couch to attend to the problem.

  “The DVD is scratched, I think. I’ll see if I can get the movie off the internet instead.

  “Sure, sweetheart. You know all about that technology stuff.”

  I bounded up the stairs to my room and flipped open my computer. It wouldn’t take longer than fifteen minutes to Torrent the movie.

  ‘Error. This version of Windows is not genuine. Please restart in Safe Mode and enter a valid product key.’

  ‘Fucking shit,’ I thought. ‘Of course Windows isn’t genuine. I have a Mac, and had gotten Windows through Bit-Torrent, just like I was about to get Dirty Harry.

  Oh well. I could just use Robert’s computer in his office. I walked down the hallway to his office and stepped inside. Everything was neat and in it’s place as usual. There was a stack of papers on his desk next to his laptop, and I flipped through them as his computer woke up: it was a brief from the board of a company where he was a major shareholder. ‘Boring,’ I thought, turning my attention back to the computer. His web browser was running, with a couple of tabs open: sales reports and an investment portfolio. Boring and boring. I clicked to open a new tab and squeaked in surprise at when I saw the browsing history.

  Porn. My heart started thumping a little faster. I didn’t feel disgusted. In fact, I was more than a little intrigued. What got my stepfather off?

  I started downloading the movie, then clicked back to the porn that had unexpectedly popped up. I looked towards the half-open door apprehensively, then quickly back down at the screen. My heart was thumping in my chest, and I could feel a little twitch in my sex. Panting, I clicked to see what he had been watching, turning the volume down in a small moment of panic as the video began to load.

  It was a girl, being called into what looked like a principal’s office. She was wearing a Catholic schoolgirl’s outfit, with a plaid skirt and a pressed white blouse. She looked young, and had a slender body and small breasts. Like me.

  The principal, who looked like a meaty, steroid-jacked pornstar and about twenty years too young to be an actual high school principal, was talking on the phone. He looked up at the girl in annoyance.

  “Goddamit,” he grumbled into the phone. He looked up at her balefully. “I’ll have to call you back. I’ve got to deal with a certain problem student...again.” He slammed down the phone.

  “What do you have to say for yourself this time?” h
e demanded. “Not only are you ruining your future, but you’re wasting my time. And I expect more from you than I would anyone else. This better be the last time I see you in here.”

  “I’m sorry, Stepfather,” the girl whined, squirming and looking down at her shoes.

  Stepfather. I felt my pulse begin to race. Did Robert...? I felt my sex begin to wake up. Heat started to bloom from my center, radiating throughout my body. No, that would be so bad, so wrong. So…forbidden.

  “You’re the principal’s daughter. My daughter. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Stepfather, I said I’m sorry.” She looked up at him, a little defiantly.

  “I wonder what your mother is going to think about this. I’m going to bring it up next time I see her. And you can forget about that new car."

  Her eyes grew wide. “Stepfather, no. Please don’t tell her.”

  “You can let me tell her, or you can take your punishment. The choice is up to you.”

  “Please don’t tell her.”

  “Then lean against the wall, Jessica. Right over there.” The girl leaned against the wall and he flipped her skirt up over her ass, exposing her bare white bottom. He gave it a violent smack, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my body.

  “Tell me you’re sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, Stepfather.” He smacked her again, hard, leaving a red mark on her bottom. I could feel myself getting wet. I didn’t know why, but watching her little behind getting smacked hard, watching her whole body twitch with pain every time he hit her, was turning me on.

  And so was the idea that my own stepfather might catch me. I looked up at the door, my heart racing.

  He spanked her again as he continued his scolding. I squirmed in my chair. I wanted to touch myself. Watching the girl on the screen being taken and punished was almost too much. My whole body felt like it was pulsing with lust.

  “Now kneel on the floor! I want you to tell me why I’m punishing you right now.”

  “Because I’m a bad girl, and I smoked a cigarette behind the auto shop during lunch.”