No Angel

By J P Philips

No Angel is a novella length story that documents one man’s downfall at the hands of his beautiful, yet highly manipulative step-daughter-to-be.

I’ve written a few reluctant-male-seduced fantasies now, but I've got to confess, No Angel is a particular favourite of mine. It’s an epic, for sure, but it needed to be, as it documents how, over a period of several weeks, our young temptress taunts the male character with her incredible body and the suggestion that it’s his to enjoy if only he dares take it...

Please note that No Angel is also available as part of the novella pairing, Reluctant Seductions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J P Philips
• Release date: May 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310301889

J P Philips

J P Philips describes himself as, "A perfectly ordinary, happily married, forty-something-year-old man who accidentally stumbled upon a talent for erotic writing." It began back in 2006 while, on a wine-fuelled whim, he decided to write a fictitious 'girlfriends' confession' in an attempt to be published by a certain mens' magazine. As a bi-product of that experience he discovered a strange thrill in writing erotica, and so he went on to create more stories, publishing them online in an amateur capacity, where he was awarded several prizes and quickly amassed a considerable fan-base. An early attempt at a personal website then followed, a professional publishing contract was duly signed, but in the end he decided that he really wanted to go it alone, and so he now publishes all of his short stories and novellas independently. Asked how best to describe his writing style, JP has come up with the snappy title, "Slightly-larger-than-life-story-led-hardcore".

Book preview

No Angel

by

J P Philips

No Angel

Copyright © 2015 MDD Publishing

http//www.mydarkestdesire.com

All rights reserved. EBooks and eStories are non transferable. No part of this work may be used or transferred without the prior written permission of MDD Publishing (excepting circumstances where short extracts amounting to no more than 100 words are quoted in promotional material or critical review). Unauthorised reproduction of this work is illegal. No part of this story may be scanned, uploaded or distributed by any means, print or electronic, without the express permission of the publisher.

This story contains themes of a sexual nature and is to be read by persons aged eighteen years or over. In owning a copy of this story, readers must also make sure that they are adhering to the law of the country of their abode. MDD Publishing takes no responsibility for illegal behaviour resulting from the acquisition of this story.

This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidences are the work of the author’s imagination only. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is coincidental only.

Published in the UK by MDD Publishing 2015

No Angel

I’m not looking for forgiveness by telling you my story. I’m not making excuses and I certainly don’t want your pity. What I’ve allowed to happen is wrong and yes, I accept that I’m the one who’s ultimately responsible – despite how badly I was provoked. Read this as a warning if you want to. Read it for your pleasure, I don’t care. Just so long as you know I’m as much a victim here as anyone – a victim who was ultimately pushed too far.

Angel had it in for me from the start. She was a manipulative, little bitch back then and she’s a manipulative, little bitch right now. The funny thing is, though, during those early days, I even understood it. I was the stranger in her house. I was the one who in some tiny, perverse corner of her mind had come between her parents – ignoring the fact that it was her father who’d been fucking his secretary for god knows how long, and that I only got together with Charlotte after she’d finally kicked him out for good. Even so, Angel had clearly decided that it was my fault that her mother and father were no longer together, and like I say, I kind of got it.

She was just sixteen when we first met – seventeen when I moved into their home – and I soon discovered that the best I could possibly hope to get out of her were rolls of the eyes and obvious tuts if I so much as tried to be friendly, and the worst: screams and rants that, I was ‘not her father’ and had ‘no right’ to tell her what to do, should I so much as dare to suggest she might like to help out a little around the house. In the end I just tried to keep out of her way, as it seemed the simplest solution for us all. Apart from anything, I certainly didn’t want to add to the brooding tension that was already well established between Angel and her mother.

You see, it wasn’t only due to my presence that Angel began to rebel. She’d been going off the rails for quite a while before I showed up. The problem was, Angel, like her mother, was a natural beauty, and her body had developed way quicker than most other girls her age. As a consequence, she received far more male attention than was perhaps good for her, and unfortunately, she just lapped it on up. She’d hang out with older, cooler boys who had money, good looks and that couldn’t-give-a-fuck attitude that’s so incredibly attractive to teenage girls. For their part, I don’t suppose they were interested in her for much beyond one thing, and I can say that with a certain degree of authority, as I know I’ll have been just like them once-upon-a-time.

Despite her mother’s protests, most Friday nights would see Angel heading out the door wearing the kind of clothes to make a hooker blush before she’d roll in, wasted, in the early hours of the following morning. If Charlotte ever so much as dared to try and talk some sense into her daughter about the dangers of her behaviour, she’d only be met with a barrage of foul mouthed abuse, which would inevitably end with the attack that, it wasn’t her fault she behaved badly if the only adult role-models she had were off fucking the first thing that moved – or some such crap along those lines.

While I’m on the subject of fucking, Angel was clearly sexually active back then too. It was impossible not to notice the thump, thump, thump of her headboard against the bedroom wall any time one of her deadbeat boyfriends turned up. I even once caught her in the living room with some grungy-looking toe-rag’s cock in her mouth when I arrived home early one afternoon. The most unnerving thing about that experience was not that she was performing oral sex at such a young age, but the way she just looked up at me and smiled before getting straight back down to business.

I didn’t tell her mother about that one, as it would no doubt have broken her heart, but there was another very serious occasion shortly after that that Charlotte couldn’t avoid knowledge of.

Again, it happened on a Friday night when one of her friends had rung to say that Angel was in the park, off her face on vodka, with a gang of young men paying her the wrong kind of attention. I told Charlotte to wait at home while I shot round to fetch her. The park gates were locked when I arrived and I had to climb over a set of iron railings to get in, but I did eventually find her, and clearly just in time. I’d spotted about eight youths standing in a circle over by the children’s playground and instinctively I smelled trouble. Without really thinking of any potential danger, I ran up and barged my way through to find one little runt holding Angel from behind. He had what little there was of her skirt lifted up around her waist and was attempting to drag down her knickers while his friends just goaded him on.

Now, I’ve been in enough fights in my time not to be fazed by the crunch of breaking cartilage as I punched the little fucker in the face, but I also knew I was massively outnumbered, and if this particular gang carried knives then I was in for a whole world of trouble. Thankfully, through the confusion of my sudden attack, most of them scattered to give me just enough time to throw Angel over my shoulder and to run back towards the park gates before they had chance to regroup. This time I managed to find a gap in the railings to drag her through before hunting out the car, tossing her onto the back seat and speeding away.

Finally, I laid into her, unleashing the anger I’d held back for way too long by telling her what an irresponsible, little bitch she was. Even then, Angel seemed incapable of acknowledging the stupidity of her ways. Oh shut-the-fuck-up, she’d slurred. I’d have been fine.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. "Fine? I said, my eyes blazing in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. They were about to fucking gang rape you!"

No they weren’t, they’re my friends. And anyway why do you care?

I don’t fucking care – or I shouldn’t, at least, I shouted, but for your mum’s sake alone I don’t want to see you get hurt. Angel collapsed along the backseat, looking as though she could throw-up at any minute and so I just sighed and tried to concentrate on getting us home safely.

Even then I didn’t tell Charlotte the full story of how I’d found her daughter when we got back home. It wasn’t with any real desire to protect Angel, but if I’d let her know the truth, knowing Charlotte, she’d have wanted to get the police involved and I’m not sure how well that would’ve turned out given that the little shit I punched may well have been under eighteen and will almost certainly have been left nursing a broken nose.

Beyond the fact that Angel still had a hell of a lot of growing up to do, she was at least bright enough not to get herself pregnant, not to get involved with drugs and not to allow any of her waster boyfriends to distract her too badly from her schoolwork. She continued to be a royal pain in the arse at home, however, and when one day she announced that she was not going to attend the local university straight after school, and was going to