Nickel Mann

Training Step Mom

My father dumped my mother after 20 years of marriage; a wife who had worked to support him during law school, a wife who had acted as his secretary and Para Legal after passing the bar exams, she who had born my sister Amy and me, Jack Jr. My mother had ran the household, been a good wife, cook, maid, and mother. It wasn’t just dumping my mother that made it so bad, he used his legal skills to leave her with as little as possible.

He had married a “Trophy Wife” as soon as the divorce was final. Sure, his new wife was younger and sleeker, in fact, she was a knockout. She was tall and sleek looking; long shapely legs, a set of slender hips with a tight round bottom, large breasted. Her long silky flowing hair was always styled to accent her large blue eyes and fair skin. I would have lusted after her if I had met her first, or at least until I learned she was self-centered and a genuine bitch.

I was 16 and Amy was 13 when my father married his “Trophy Wife.” Our mother insisted on that my sister and I attend my father’s wedding. Even after all he had done, my mother still loved him and wanted her children to keep a good relationship with their father. Tiffany, our new step mother didn’t want anything to do with her step children. She snubbed and tended to look down her nose at my sister and me. My sister Amy absolutely loathed her, my mother never said anything about Tiffany, but my sister and I knew she would gladly kill her if she had the chance and a way to get away with the crime.

My father died of a heart attack when I was 19. His will had left trust funds for Amy and me that covered college expenses, gave us an allowance while in college. And enough for a starter egg after college. Tiffany got everything else.

My sister and I heard my mother cry at night, even with all the rotten things Dad had done to her, she still would have taken him back. She still had their old wedding and vacation pictures scattered around our small home.

I heard thru friends how Tiffany referred to my mother as “big old lumpy cow.” I wanted to make her cry like my mother had cried, I wanted her to hurt and suffer. I waited till I was 21 and received the rest of my trust fund before I decided to take some revenge for all the pain she had caused my family.

I began to follow Tiffany around, I learned she worked out twice a week at a gym, she had her own personal trainer, went to the hair salon once a week, when her maid came by to clean, etc. I had a key to my father’s house, he had given one to my sister and me after they had bought their new home. He wanted us to drop by and spend time with him and Tiffany.

I entered her home while she was at the gym, she had never had the locks changed not had she had the alarm code reset after my father’s death. I searched her house and room very carefully, making sure anything I moved was set back in the exact location it was before. I went thru her lingerie, I found a small slender vibrator in her night stand, I found her birth control pills and went thru her medicine cabinet.

I shopped for the items I wanted and bagged them for later use. I told my mother and sister I would be going on vacation hiking out west, I wouldn’t have a cell phone signal where I would be camping.

I chose Tuesday as the best time to begin my project; her maid came in to clean that day and wouldn’t be back till the following Tuesday. I knew Tiffany would be getting a manicure and pedicure that day. I took my bag of goodies, a pizza and let myself in the house. I took care of internal chores first, disconnecting the phones, etc. I went the laundry room next to the garage and settled down to wait. I heard the garage door open, her car drive in, and the garage door closed.

I peak thru the laundry room door crack as she entered and punched in her alarm code. When she turned and started to walk into the kitchen, I sprang out of the laundry room and slipped a large heavy duffle bag over her head and drew it down over her arms. I wrapped duct tape tightly around her body, trapping her inside the bag. I picked her up over my shoulder, wen to her bedroom and threw her down on bed. I was glad I had inherited my size from my mother’s side of the family; my father had only been 5’ 9’ tall, while I was 6’2”.

I had tied ropes to the bed post earlier; I rolled her on her back, sat astraddle of her stomach facing her feet. I got a rope end from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her ankle twice, then tied it in a knot. She was fighting me and trying to yell, but the duffle bag and duct tape had her arms secure, plus her yells were muffle by the thick heavy bag. I grabbed her free foot, pulled it over wide towards the other bed post and tied that foot down.

I got up, turned to face the head of the bed, sat back down over her stomach. I got the duct tape, lifted her head and began to wrap it around her neck, I only wrapped the bag tight enough to prevent it coming off until I was ready for that. I wanted her to be unable to see anything. This would help terrorize her and add to her fears. I took her left arm, it normally being the weaker arm. Bent it back to the top bed post, I used a slip knot to tie her left wrist. I rose up enough to use a knife to cut the duct tape around her body. I dropped the knife seized her right arm and forced it up to the corner of the bed. I tied this knot more securely. I untied her left wrist, drew that arm up and retied it.