The Dominant Stepdaughter - Part 1 (F/F)

 I was reading a vintage 1970's book called “The Penthouse Letters” for inspiration. They look like “phony” letters to the editor of Penthouse Magazine. I love that stuff!

One of the letters that inspired me was this one (I edited it only slightly as the stepdaughter was a tad too young in the original!):

I have been reading Penthouse for nearly a year now and I would like to comment regarding “wrestling contests” engaged in by women which seemed to turn on some of your male readers.

I am thirty years old, 5 feet 5 inches tall and have been told by men as long as I can remember how attractive I am. Unfortunately, I am one of those unlucky women who is almost completely flat-chested although I can say I do take pride in the rest of my body. I am happily married, or at least I was until a few weeks ago, and I have a stepdaughter from my husband's former marriage. She is built like you wouldn't believe: 36C-25-35 and 5 feet 8 inches tall. Besides all of that going for her, she is a real beauty who swims a few miles every day during the summer and skis constantly during the winter months.

Years ago I lost my temper and gave my stepdaughter a mild spanking for failing to come home from school when she was supposed to. At that time, I am sure she consented half-willingly due to my mother image plus a definite height advantage. Recently, my stepdaughter and I had been arguing about whether she should be allowed to stay out as late as she wants on a date. Naturally, I said no. At the time, our differences of opinion were becoming more emotional as we were vacationing at my husband's fishing cottage which is located in a fairly deserted beach area in New England. He was out fishing somewhere and my stepdaughter and I were alone on a small beach area concealed by high grass and trees.

When I told her that she deserved a good, sound spanking, she told me that if I thought I could do it I should try—and she said it in such a way that I had no choice. That was my mistake. As soon as she had spoken, I reached for her and accidentally caught her bikini bra-strap and it ripped off. I couldn't believe the size and firmness of her breasts! It was the first time I had ever seen her partially nude. Then she said something about teaching me a lesson that I would never forget.

We were both standing facing each other at this time. She grabbed my long hair and pulled down hard and suddenly my legs just buckled and I went down on my knees. While on my knees I tried to wrap my arms around her legs in order to get her down but just as quickly as I had been forced to the ground she lifted me to my feet by lightly grasping my shoulders. She repeated this about a half dozen times; then she allowed me to get my arms around her waist while I was still on my knees and she was standing over me. She just stood there with her hands on her hips and sort of laughed as I squeezed my arms around her waist with all my might in order to get her to the ground. Looking up at her, I couldn't even see her face because of her monstrous breasts just above my head. She then very coolly reached down and grabbed my left arm and pulled it up behind my back. I was totally powerless and knew that I had no chance. With her other hand, she unclipped my bikini top, let it fall, and gave my tiny nipples each a pinch. I felt like a weak, little child. Still holding my left arm behind my back she sat down and lifted me up and across her lap facing her. With her right hand, she yanked off my panties. Never had my body been so useless and powerless!

After that, she stood up, leaving me nude and lying flat on my back and, as I looked up at her, I can't tell you how much I envied her youth, power, physical stature, and beauty! Then she bent down on one knee, turned me over, and lifted me face down across her knee and spanked me until I cried. When she stopped, I turned to her and begged her not to humiliate me anymore. Still crying, I buried my face into her huge, firm, beautiful breasts. She held me closely, now aware of my humiliation, and as she did so, I reached orgasm like never before—with my husband or any man! 

I ask you: how can the consequences of such a “contest” turn any man on? I continue to read Penthouse, and I would like to see how your male readers (or female) react to my humiliating experience. 

—Name and address withheld

Oooh! Sexy! No idea how that could possibly turn any man on 😉.

I decided to throw that letter at ChatGPT-4o and ask for a story. I then extended it with a few ideas of my own. Now it's novella length, so I'll tease you all and publish it serially…

The Dominant Stepdaughter - Part 1

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Rebecca Thompson never imagined her life would take such a strange turn. At thirty years old, she had settled into a routine that suited her well: a job she loved as a freelance editor, a beautiful home she and her husband, John, had bought just a year after their marriage, and a family she felt proud to be part of—if not for the occasional tension with her stepdaughter, Stephanie.

Her marriage had been solid for the first few years, at least as far as anyone could see. Rebecca had always been the kind of woman who knew what she wanted, a blend of beauty and brains, even if she often felt a little insecure about her body. At five feet five, with long brown hair that framed her delicate face, she often received compliments from John, as well as friends and acquaintances. But one insecurity nagged at her: her flat chest. It wasn't something John ever seemed to mind—he claimed he loved her just the way she was—but it was hard not to notice how other women, especially those with more curves, caught his eye now and then.

But if there was one thing that truly made Rebecca feel uncomfortable, it was Stephanie.

Stephanie was John's daughter from his previous marriage. She was a vision of youth and beauty—blonde, with soft waves that cascaded down her back, a petite yet perfectly proportioned figure, and those sky-blue eyes that made everyone stop and stare. More than that, Stephanie had inherited her mother's incredible physique. She had the kind of body that was the complete opposite of Rebecca's—busty, curvy, and full of youthful energy. Her figure—36C-25-35 at five feet eight inches tall—wasn't something Rebecca could ignore. It didn't help that Stephanie was a disciplined athlete, swimming miles every morning in the summer and hitting the slopes every winter, staying fit in ways that made Rebecca both envious and resentful.

It wasn't as though Rebecca disliked Stephanie personally; in fact, she had tried hard to get along with the girl when she and John first married. But as Stephanie matured into a young woman, their relationship became more strained. The difference in their bodies was only part of it. There was also the fact that Stephanie had inherited her mother's independence, often clashing with Rebecca's attempts to set rules and boundaries.

Years ago, when Stephanie was a girl, Rebecca had lost her temper for the first time. Stephanie had come home late from school without so much as a phone call, and after hours of anxiety, Rebecca had scolded her, perhaps a bit too harshly. What happened next was a blur—Stephanie had retorted with some clever remark, and without thinking, Rebecca had pulled her across her lap and spanked her. She'd immediately regretted it, knowing it wasn't her place to discipline Stephanie that way. Stephanie had reacted predictably—silent, resentful of the punishment, as though she felt it was not deserved.

It wasn't something they ever talked about again. Rebecca assumed it was a one-time thing, a slip-up in her role as a stepmother. Yet, as the years passed, she couldn't shake the growing tension between them.

And then, everything came to a head one summer evening at the cottage.

Chapter 2: The Argument

The cottage in New England was John's pride and joy. Nestled near the beach, surrounded by high grass and trees, it was a secure spot that felt miles away from the rest of the world. They visited often in the summer, taking advantage of the privacy and serenity. It was during one of these trips that the simmering conflict between Rebecca and Stephanie finally reached its boiling point.

John was working in the city, leaving Rebecca and Stephanie alone at the cottage. For a while, it had been peaceful—Rebecca and Stephanie both sunbathed on the beach in their bikini bathing suits. But that tranquility didn't last long.

Stephanie mentioned she was planning on going out that night with her new summer boyfriend, Jake, and would be home late. Rebecca did not approve and had told Stephanie she was not allowed to stay out late. It wasn't an unreasonable rule, Rebecca thought. She was still young, after all. But Stephanie didn't see it that way.

“You're not my mother!” Stephanie snapped, storming at her.

The words stung, though Rebecca had heard them before. Still, there was something about the way Stephanie said it this time—so dismissive, so defiant—that made Rebecca's blood boil. How dare she, after all the years of trying to be a good stepmother, after all the effort she'd put in?

Rebecca responded, trying to stay calm. “Stephanie, I'm not trying to ruin your fun, but you have to understand that I'm responsible for you when your father's not here.”

Stephanie crossed her arms and glared at her, her blue eyes icy and filled with contempt. “You're not responsible for me. Dad is. And he wouldn’t care if I stayed out late.”

“That's not true. John and I—”

“John and you? Please. You think he cares about what you think? All he cares about is you being his little wife who does whatever he wants.”

Rebecca flinched at the words, but she didn't back down. “I won't have you talking to me like that, young lady.”

“Oh, and what are you going to do about it? Spank me again? Try me.”

Stephanie's voice was mocking, dripping with disdain, but her challenge was clear. Rebecca's heart pounded in her chest, part anger, part nerves. There was no way she was going to let Stephanie continue to defy her like this.

“You think I won’t?” Rebecca said, stepping closer, trying to match Stephanie's bravado.

Stephanie smirked, rolling her eyes as if the whole thing was a joke. “Go ahead. Let’s see you try.”

It was then that something inside Rebecca snapped. She wasn't sure if it was the years of built-up tension, the envy she felt toward Stephanie's perfect figure, or simply the need to assert her authority. But without another word, Rebecca reached out, intending to pull Stephanie closer for a good smack to her disrespectful rump. What happened next, though, was entirely unexpected.

As Rebecca reached for Stephanie, her fingers caught under the thin strap of Stephanie's bikini top. As Stephanie pulled back, the fabric gave way with a soft snap, and before either of them could react, the top fell to the ground, exposing Stephanie's full, firm breasts.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Rebecca stared, unable to believe what she was seeing. She had always known Stephanie had developed into a young woman, but she had never seen her stepdaughter like this—so confident, so mature, so utterly beautiful. In that moment, all of Rebecca's insecurities rushed to the surface. She felt small, insignificant, and completely outmatched.

But Stephanie wasn't embarrassed. If anything, she looked amused.

“Oh,” she said softly, her voice laced with teasing. “Is that what you wanted?”

Rebecca's cheeks burned with humiliation. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. She had been the one in control, or so she thought. But now, standing in front of her stepdaughter, who was as much a woman as she was, if not more, Rebecca felt her authority slip away.

Calmly, coolly, Stephanie said, “Now I'm going to teach you a lesson that you'll never forget.”

[To be continued…]