1. Revenge, Pt 9: Christmas Presents


    Date: 11/15/2014, Categories: Fiction, BDSM, Domination/submission, Male Domination, Romance, Slavery, Teen Male/Teen Female, Author: superkev123, Rating: 73.7, Source: sexstories.com

    time." I said. "You too." Dad smiled, "And, uh... there's some beer in the fridge left over. Have at them." He said winking. "Are you sure you're going to be Ok by yourself?" my Mom asked at the door. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I said. She didn't answer right away, but just looked concerned. "You know you can have some friends over, if you want." she said, "Or... you know... a girl." I smiled. So that was the problem. For the first time in years, Mom was worrying about my self-imposed isolation. "Sure, I'll make sure to keep the place clean though." I said, brushing off her suggestion as if it were no big deal. She smiled, then nodded. "Have fun!" she said, picking up her last bag and heading out the door. That was definitely the plan. == The first few days were as exciting at they normally were, but the novelty of being able to wander around in my underwear and eat leftover pizza for breakfast, and cereal for dinner wore off surprisingly quickly. Normally I was ecstatic to have the house to myself, but this time it didn't feel as special. There was something missing. Maybe it was just the fact that I no longer had to hide in my room when Jessica was around, meaning I was more used to spending free time down here. Rather than being overjoyed that everyone else was gone, I found myself wondering what everyone was doing, and what kind of fun they were having. I just sulked about the house, my grey mood reflected by the clouds outside, not even bothering to snow deciding ...
    instead to drizzle continuously without any real energy. By New Year's Eve, the feeling I normally enjoyed was completely gone, leaving only a strange sense of loneliness and melancholy. I counted down to midnight alone, feeling not a trace of the excitement I'd felt even the year before. The next day, January 1st, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself, and start enjoying my vacation. My plan that night was to just get drunk. I was alone and now had access to alcohol, and I was aware that I'd never really been properly drunk before. So that evening I assembled my dad's generous offering on the kitchen table, turned on the TV, and started to drink. I sipped the first one, grimacing at the uniquely bitter taste, but trying hard to enjoy it. After half an hour I still wasn't finished that can, so I decided to start gulping it. Within 20 minutes I was half way through my third can. By the fourth, I found that I was starting to enjoy the flavour. It was deeper, richer taste than I first realised, and by the sixth can I was practically swirling it around in my mouth to absorb as much of it as possible. It tasted nothing like the wine, but it was the same process as I'd applied there, not trying to mask the taste or wish it was something else, but just experiencing it for what it was. In the middle of a drink something on the TV made me laugh and I spat a mouthful all over myself. I didn't really mind, though. In fact, I laughed again. It was at this point that I realised that ...
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