Bad Stepdaughter Christmas Read online

  Contents

  bad stepdaughter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Continue Reading

  Copyright

  Bad

  Stepdaughter

  Christmas

  Carrie Breeze

  Other works by Carrie

  Bad Stepsister Christmas

  Pork

  Big Bad Stepbrother

  Stepbrother Lover

  Chapter 1

  The first thing I see as I get to the Christmas party is dorky Brent. The same guy who ratted on me this week. Claimed my language was too suggestive for the workplace. He’s hanging around the door to the banqueting room in his cheap suit, wearing a Santa cap and sipping a drink. He’s got that look that says, “Please, someone come over and talk to me.” There’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway, not too far from his head. Fair game, right? Fuck it, I’m an impulsive bitch and a little drunk. Lets give the rat something real to complain about.

  “Merry Christmas, Brent,” smiling my come-and-do-me-big-boy smile.

  He turns and sees me, momentarily stunned to have someone notice him. Before he can sputter out a greeting, I ditch my coat, tossing it onto a nearby deacon’s bench and slink up to him.

  “What ya drinking, there, Brent?”

  “Uh, uh, Hi, Holly. Eggnog, can I get you some.”

  “That’d be fucking awesome.” He cringes at the sound of the f-word.

  “Well, let me show you to the beverage table.” He wants to escape but I’ve him pinned against the door frame, moving in too close for his comfort.

  “Not necessary, big fella, I’ve some right here,” grabbing the poor little douche bag. I pull him into me, locking my lips onto his. He’s putty. His glass falls from his limp hand and breaks on the hardwood floor, drawing looks from inside the room. I’m tall for a girl and Brent is small for a man. With my left hand, I grab a handful of his flabby ass. Like a snake, my right leg entwines around his right. I grind my Venus mound into his paunchy gut, pumping to the rhythm of Christmas Tree Rock blaring from the house speakers. His pencil dick pokes at me through his suit pants. His mouth is numb, like a dead fish. So, I try to pry his lips open with my tongue. His eyes pop. He squirms, flapping his arms like a flounder. Looks like he may faint any minute so, I release him.

  “Wow, Brent, you’re some kisser. Ha-ha-ha-ha.” Looks like he wants to run and hide. “What’s that, Brent?” Pointing at the little bulge in his pants. His face is beat red. He runs out into the entrance way, searching for his coat among the dozens hanging on racks. He’s probably gonna go home, beat his meat, and then type up his second sexual harassment complaint against me. I don’t give a fuck. I’m gonna get fired anyway.

  “Merry Christmas, Brent,” I shout, walking into the banqueting room in search of beer.

  It’s the annual company Christmas party of the Dane Gunderson Ad Agency. This is my first, having only worked for them about six months, now. We’re here at the owner’s palatial mansion. It’s freaking awesome - view of Lake of the Isles and everything. Oh, before I forget, Dane, the owner, he’s also my step-dad. But, that happened just a couple years ago, while I was away at college. So, I’ve only actually been here in the mansion a couple times. And, me and my step - he’s so damn busy running the company - have never had a chance to get properly acquainted. I guess I don’t need to say that he got me my job here. And, that also might explain my bold, don’t-give-a-shit attitude. You blame me? If your stepfather was a multimillionaire would you want to waste your time, stuffing envelopes, pasting together mock-ups for ad copy,and cleaning the break room. No, shit no, you wouldn’t. I just want to have fun.

  The banqueting room is packed with some forty smiling faces - all company employees and their guests. Garlands, Christmas lights, wreaths and whatever, hang along every wall. Along the left wall, there’s a crackling fire in the fireplace complete with the required stockings hanging from the mantle. The right wall is almost entirely floor-to-ceiling windows - frosted along the edges. They look out into the semi-dark winter - at the fluffy falling snowflakes and at the frozen lake across. A ten-foot-tall over-decorated Christmas tree dominates the far wall. A ton of presents sprawl out underneath it. A lot of people, many of whom I don’t know, are sitting at the big table in the middle of the room, stuffing their faces and talking, chatting and getting drunk. Not too far away, stand tables loaded with Christmas snacks, ham, chicken wings, casseroles, stuffings, pies, pasta, chips. I grab a handful of chips, got a sudden attack of the munchies. Ah, on the next table, what I’m looking for - the drinks. There’s a keg at the end. I slide on up to it and take one of the red plastic cups.

  “Hey, Holly, nice to see you decided to show up,” Nancy says. She’s one of my best buds - we’ve got adjoining cubicles at work. She’s hanging around the snack table, snarfing down fudge and sipping wine. “What are you trying to do with poor old Brent there, get yourself fired?”

  “Ha-ha-ha, nice one. Look at you, doll, elf cap, Santa sweater, you’re really into this Christmas thing,” I say, pumping the tap and filling my cup. Ah, beer hits the spot. “Don’t worry about Brent, no one takes him seriously.”

  “Hey, Holl-doll, what’s shaking?” Ashley, my other best bud, shambles over, drink in one hand, fully loaded snack plate in the other, and wearing the lowest cut dress permitted by law - boobs nearly bursting out of her bra. She’s my partner in crime. “Where’s Jake?”

  “Shit, don’t bring him up,” taking a gulp of beer. “As of today, his ass is history. I swipe an egg roll off her plate and deep-throat it. “Mm-mm. Mrs. Yamaguchi does make the best egg rolls in town. However, my lips are yearning for something with a little more manly flavored, know what I mean?” nudging her elbow and laughing.

  “What happened with Jake?”

  “Finally had enough of his shit. Can you believe it, got home early today. I walk in and see his ugly hairy ass pounding some skank right there on the couch. Pulled a knife on his ass. Threatened to cut his dick off if he didn’t get the hell out right then and there. Ha-ha, you should a seen him, hopping down the icy walk, still pulling his pants up.”

  “Wow, he deserves it.”

  “Tell me about it, babe. I threw all his crap out into the yard, right into the snow - all his stupid hipster clothes, his books, his music, and his precious guitar. Oh, man, that pissed him off. Serves the loser right, though. Bye-bye Jake. What I need is a real man.”

  “Holly, are wasted already?” Ashley says. “You just got here.”

  “Course she is.”

  “That’s what a breakup… live and learn, right?”

  “But, my God, look at you, you’re a wreck. You look more ready for Halloween than for Christmas. Your hair is a mess, your eyes look like they’ve retreated into deep caves, your clothes look like you slept in them. You got this torn t-shirt on, no bra - I can practically see your nipples. Crusty old black leather pants, two sizes too small, ass cleavage hanging out. You can’t let Dane see you like this.”

  “Tough titty. I’m on his shit list already anyway. By the way, where is the boss?”

  “But he’s always saying what a good job you’re doing.”

  “What happened?”

  Chapter 2

  “Brent narced on me for sexual harassment.”

  “What? What did you do?”

  “Yeah, little shit, he did. Dane called me into his office on Wednesday. Had a big sit down with him. Being that he’s my step-dad, he’s the only reason I’ve got this job. See, I’ve been a bad girl all my life. I’m a screw-up. College was just party, party, party. My
GPA is so deplorable that it was either work here or waitressing. So, here I am in my step-dad’s office. He’d just gotten back from his daily workout. So, I started feeling this strange chemistry. My nipples were at full attention as he closed the door and offered me a seat on the leather couch.”

  “He’s your stepfather, for God’s sake.”

  “I know, right? But you got to admit he’s one hot hunk. And, even though he’s my step-dad, he’s only twelve years older.”

  “Only twelve years older, she says.”

  “Yeah, he’s way younger than your mom, isn’t he?”

  “Right. So, I’m with him in his office. He closes the door and we’re all alone, just the two of us. I’ve always thought Dane had a hot bod - ever since he and mom tied the knot a couple years back. But, being away at college till now, this was the first chance I’d really had to admire it. Like I said, he was all sweaty and ripped from his workout, still wearing his gym shirt, which looked like it’d been applied with spray paint. I mean, you girls would have climaxed. I nearly did. I swear to god, that shirt highlighted every bulge and ripple of his chiseled chest and abs. They really popped out at me and gave me a warm feeling down below. At that point I didn’t care what he’d called me in for. I just wanted to keep him talking, prolong the meeting indefinitely. I was in a candy store and my eyes had a sweet-tooth.”

  “Your dad is really handsome. Tell us more and don’t hold back any of the juicy details.”

  “I hadn’t known he has tattoos. They’re always hidden under his suit at work, so, you guys wouldn’t know either. But anyway, they are those black spiky, thorny tribal tribal tattoos. They wrap around his huge bicep and continue up his arm. The rest were hidden under his shirt. I wouldn’t mind exploring them further, just to see what primitive desires they stir up in yours truly. Catch my drift?”

  “I think we do, you horny she-devil. So, what did he say about Brent’s complaint?”

  “He said Brent came to him that morning. And, that he was so shook up that he couldn’t work and asked for the rest of the day off. When asked why he was so worked up, Brent said he’d heard me say something that really disturbed him. According to Brent, here’s what happened. Jeff had brought in donuts for everyone and set the boxes down on the mock-up work table. I was working there and Brent was nearby. Of course, I immediately grabbed a nice and sticky glazed one and started munching down. At that same time, Glen popped his head out of his cubicle and shouted, ‘Hey, Holly, can you bring me one?’ He was on the phone. So, I shouted back, ‘You want a glazed one?’ To which he replied, ‘One with a hole in it.’ I shouted back, ‘I’ll give you a hole,’ laughing and adding a provocative gesture. So, while Dane’s telling me all this, he’s sitting in big captain’s chair behind his massive desk. Have you ever noticed how power his shoulders are? Well, that day, in his tight shirt, he looked like he could carry the world on those shoulders. I’m sitting back on his couch, getting comfy, got my left foot up on the seat cushion. I’m wearing my favorite skin-tight jeans. All this sex talk’s got me a little hot and excited so I got my knees spread wide. I was hoping a little ventilation on the privates would help cool me down. But, as he’s talking, he can’t help stare right at my camel-toe. This just makes me hotter. This is my step-dad scoping out my pussy. My panties start melting. After a brief, awkward pause, he cleared his throat and asked, ‘What do you have to say about that?’ I shrugged my shoulders and said, ‘It was nothing. Brent reads too much into things. You know how sensitive he is.’ Dane tore his eyes away from my pussy and looked me cold in the face. I gazed into his intense steel blue eyes. So deep. So penetrating. He had me locked on to them with a tractor-beam. I think he has some kind of strange hypnotic power because that’s when I lost control of my libido. ‘Well, okay,’ he said, leaning forward over his desk, peering down at me. We’re no more than five feet apart. I’m still sprawled in the take-me-I’m-yours position. ‘Would you mind demonstrating the provocative gesture Brent mentioned?’ ‘Sure, dad.’ His face is so rock-star handsome. His jaw is set like stone. His lips are drawn in a firm no-shit line. His high cheekbones are Hollywood made-to-order. His long dark tangled hair is still damp with workout sweat. ‘I said, ‘I got a hole for you.’ And, this is what I did.’ I lowered my right hand fuck-finger down to my crotch and slid it up and down through the damp crevice of my camel-toe and then brought it up, held it out to him fuck you-style and said, ‘want a sniff?’”

  “Holy crap, Holly,” Nancy says. “And he didn’t fire you on the spot?”

  “Nope. What he did was, contemplate my finger, swallow hard and lean back in his chair.”

  “‘That’ll be all for now, Holly,’ he said. ‘I’ll file the report and have you sign it. You can leave now. Would you mind closing the door behind you?’”

  “I got up and left. His eyes followed my ass out. Dane’s not the kind of guy who masturbates but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have me close the door so he could choke the chicken right then.”

  “Man, Holly,” Ashley says. “And I thought I was depraved. You need help, girl.”

  “What I need is to get laid. I haven’t had any for over a day now.”

  Chapter 3

  “Say, Holly,” Nancy chirped. “You bring a gift for the Yankee swap? Ashley and I have ours under the tree already.”

  “What the hell is a Yankee swap?” I look through the crowd of people toward the far wall and glimpse the huge tree covered in tinsel and sparkling multi-colored lights. A shit-load of presents are piled up around it. “This is my first company Christmas party. Fill me in, Ash,” refilling my beer cup and taking a chug.

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, it goes like this, anyone who wants to participate brings a gift. Mandy takes your gift, puts it under the tree - so that no one knows who brought which gift - and she gives you a number. Later on, when we open the presents, we open then one-at-a-time starting with the person who has the highest number. When your number is called, you can pick any gift under the tree. If you don’t like what you opened, you have the option of swapping it with any gift that’s been opened before yours. So, the lower the number you draw, the better your chances of getting a good gift. And, of course, who ever gets the coveted ‘number one has their pick of all the presents. Sound like fun?”

  “Sounds like a fuckin’ blast,” opening a pack of cigarettes, I light up and flick the ashes on the floor.

  “You can,t smoke in here,” says a nosy browser at the snack table.

  “Do I look like I give a fuck,” blowing smoke in his face. He gives me a dirty look and moves away.

  “Too bad you didn’t bring a gift, it’s great fun,” Nancy says.

  “Oh, I never let anything stand in the way of a good time. I’m sure we can rustle up a present somewhere around this place,” scanning the room for impromptu gift ideas. This is all Dane’s shit anyway. And, being my step-dad, in a way it’s mine, too.

  “How about this candy dish?” Nancy holds up this fuckin’ porcelain rendition of Santa’s sleigh.

  “Too Christmasy, I’m not in the spirit for that shit.”

  “Better find something quick,” Ashley says. “I think they’re about ready to start opening.”

  I keep scanning the room and see a tiny oriental vase sitting on the mantel. I stagger over and casually grab it when no one’s looking and then bring it back to where Nancy and Ashley are standing around the keg.

  “Here’s an idea.” I say. “Now that I’m available, I give my body to some lucky son-of-a-bitch. Give me a piece of paper… there, hand me that Christmas napkin. Perfect. Nancy, got a pen?” she scrounges for one in her purse and hands it over. Here’s what I write, “Good for one free fuck. Redeemable anytime, anywhere. Holly Iverson.” I roll it up and stuff it down the neck of the vase, find a paper sack that ain’t doin’ nothin’ and hide the vase inside. I shamble over to Mandy by the Christmas tree and hand her the bag.

  “Hi Holly, Merry Christmas,” she says. “You just got in
under the whistle. We’re about ready to start.”

  “Lucky me.” She puts the bag under the tree and gives me the last remaining number, lucky number three. I rejoin Ashley and Nancy at the snack table and wait for the fun to begin.

  Chapter 4

  “Can I get everyone’s attention?” Mandy shouts across the room. Someone turns down the God-awful holiday music and the chatter slowly dies down to a low mumble. “In a few minutes we’re going to start the Yankee swap. So, everyone who’s got a number, will you please gather around the tree?”

  “I’m stayin’ right here beside this old keg,” I say, refilling my cup. Nancy and Ashley stay with me, snacking on Christmas treats.

  “Number forty-two,” Mandy shouts. Jeff the supervisor ambles forward, picks out something, opens it, and gets a gag gift - a little plastic outhouse. You open the door and a little man inside turns and pisses on you. Everyone goes wild with laughter. I keep an eye on my gift but a plain brown paper bag doesn’t draw much attention. When we get down to number thirty-five it’s Ashley’s turn. She picks a tall narrow package and gets a bottle of Jack - sweet. She hauls her booty back to our table.

  “Open that damn thing, Ash. I need a shot.”

  “Can’t do that yet. What if someone else wants to swap for it?”

  “Fuck it,” wrestling the bottle out of her hands, I twist off the top and take a swig. Ah, that burns good. Just then there’s a commotion at the front door. Some dufus in a Santa hat and coat bursts into the room.

  “Holly! Where’s Holly?” He shouts. A few heads turn. It’s Jake. He’s obviously bombed off his ass. I don’t want him here. But, too late. He’s spotted me. He leaves a trail of snow as he tramps in toward us. Glaring at me, he looks so pissed no telling what he’ll do. “Holly, you can’t leave me like this. We have a relationship,” coming up to me and grabbing my elbow. I’m too wasted to offer much resistance.