Version 3.4 of my Omnibus is up!

As always, my linktree is the best place to find links to all my work.

You can access my Omnibus here - Warning, it now only downloads the HTML file. Just open it in the browser of your choice and it will work exactly as it did before as everything is self-contained in one file.

Anything tagged with an * cannot be found on Reddit.

Version 3.4
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
*Welcome to the family (Read the tags)

Version 3.3
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
*The breaking of the Batgirl (Added chapter 2)
*The Truth (extensive update)
*How I started online (extensive update)
She knew who she was

Version 3.2
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
It wasn't supposed to be like that
The breaking of the Batgirl

Daddy's Fist - Revised (M/F, violent, donkey punched, molestation, nc, incest, anal, piss)

Emily barely noticed the movement of her dad’s fist before it connected with the side of her head, dropping her to the floor in an instant. She laid there, sobbing softly, trying not to throw up as everything spun around her. She feebly pushed herself up before he grabbed her hair and jerked her up to her knees, angling her head towards his face.

In the past, she would have begged, but she knew better these days. Begging only got you hit more, even crying often got you hit more. And since bruises drew attention, he focused them elsewhere. Her chest, her sex, and his favorite, her head. Instead, she did as expected and smiled at him through tear-stained eyes, clinging to his leg.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, and he jerked her head back, spit on her face, then roughly yet expertly began fingering her. He had told her that he liked the duality of things, abuse and love, pain and lust, violence and cuddling. She believed him. She knew he was right, as he was at most things. He was right about her being a cunt, about her being stupid, about her being broken. She knew he was right because she was wet before he even touched her, despite her head still ringing, soaked. His fingers entered her cunt, his cunt, easily as he kissed her deeply. She tensed her thighs around his hand and then screamed into his mouth as his thumb and finger mashed her clit. Then he stood her up, still crushing her bud, before he shoved her hard into her bedroom wall. Her back and head bounced off the drywall, dazed, sliding down before his hand grabbed her throat.

“Mmmm, I love it when your eyes get all glassy, you dumb bitch,” her father said, before spinning her around and shoving her face-first into the wall. He kicked her legs apart and spit on his hand, shoving two fingers in her ass. Emily grunted but again said nothing. She could barely focus anyway. He was in a hitting mood and it was best just to let him vent. He pulled out his fingers and smeared them on her lips, then shoved his cock in her ass, smashing her against the wall. He pumped vigorously, reaming her tiny body while hitting the small of her back, her sides. Not enough to bruise, just to hurt.

“Mmmm, I love you spasming on my cock, tighten up more,” he said before slapping her head repeatedly. She started bawling now, scared, as he slammed her harder and harder against the wall. Emily knew what was coming, his new favorite trick, that he loved to do when he was angry. Her ass burned, and then, nothing.

The next thing she knew, she was sliding down the wall as he stood back. She threw up on herself, her head exploding with pain. He’d donkey punched her. She couldn’t focus on anything, just pain and confusion. He stood close and it took her a moment to realize that he was wiping his cock off with her hair. She cried like a baby as he walked out.

A minute, or ten, it was hard for her to tell, he came back in and pushed a pacifier in her mouth. She started sucking on it instantly, holding onto his leg as he told her what a good and brave little girl she was. Still sobbing, she was a total mess with bloody cum leaking out of her ass, snot on her nose, and vomit on her chest. He picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. There he drew her a bath and washed her, Emily let go, only the warm water and the pacifier keeping her grounded.

She watched her dad as he checked her eyes, telling her she was a bit stupider now, that he’d concussed her. She wanted to cry, but instead thanked him, and he took her head and pulled it to the side of the tub. She sucked on his head like it was her paci until he started to piss. Holding her mouth open, he pissed on her face, hair, and in her mouth. Then, after swallowing, he held onto her while she showered off. Emily got dressed in a tiny pink nightgown, crawling into bed with her father, where, as she held her stuffie and sucked her thumb, he fucked her slowly, gently this time. He stroked her belly when he was done.

“I’m gonna pull you out of school soon, baby girl. We’re gonna homeschool you for your last year, I think. Might even just have you drop out since you're eighteen now. Is your head still hurting?” he asked, and Emily nodded back yes, holding tighter to her stuffie.

“Good,” was all he said, caressing the back of her head as he spooned her. And she felt safe in his arms even though she had to get up to throw up once. He was making her better, she knew. He loved her, and she’d let him destroy her. Because she was broken and right where she belonged.

If you enjoy my work, everything I write and do can be found here -

Stepdads are the worst - A Badsammie Fictional Story (M/f, rape, drugged, molested, peed on, incest, cum in panties, reluctance)

This is the edited version. The original version will be in v1.6 of the Omnibus or can be found here -

Samantha brushed her teeth as she flicked through her phone with her free hand. She flicked from one TikTok to the next, not really paying attention, just passing the time as she got ready. She had woken up only a few minutes earlier, the annoying blare of her phone's alarm jarring her from a blissful sleep. A quiet sleep where no dreams or thoughts had tormented her. That was a rarity, and she somewhat resented her phone for waking her. She finished brushing and spat in the sink, rinsing the water away, then sat down on the toilet. She let out a sigh as she peed, staring blankly ahead. And then, he came in.

Ray. When her Mom first started dating him, she'd been happy for her. She'd been so depressed ever since Dad had left her. Left them. So her going out again, being so active, was a good thing. It had been wonderful to see that spark in her again. So full of life. It had been a whirlwind romance played fast forward. In less than six months, they were engaged and ready to be married. He'd even been nice to her, but she slowly noticed more and more things about him. His eyes were the first thing she noticed. The flashes of anger in them quickly tamped down. Just there, but enough for her to notice. Then the tone of his voice would change, firm, demanding. The words were still polite, but it was clear the intent had changed. Obey. Or else.

Then came the lingering stares. At 18, Samantha was slim and soft. She still only had peach fuzz and small breasts that wished they could fit a B cup. She stared jealously at her friends whose puberty had hit harder. She'd seen how other men and boys noticed her friends but not her. But Ray? Ray looked at her like like that. He didn't see her friends, just her. And at first, that was actually nice. She even encouraged it a bit, showing him a bit more skin. He didn't seem to like that. Instead, he often helped put her hair in pigtails and bought her dresses. They were cut funny, the dresses. They almost looked like little girls' dresses, but they fit tight and short. But she loved the way he smiled and kissed her head. And so, everything was alright.

Her mom had married him, 6 months to the day they had met. After that, things changed. It quickly became clear that he now was running the house. His word was the only law that mattered. He still doted on her Mom, took her out, and treated her nice. But any challenge was instantly shut down. Often with a slap and harsh words. And her mom? She just took it. Terrified to be left again, she did everything she could to make him happy. And when he was happy, they all were happy. But it took more and more to make Ray happy.

His stares lingered more and more on her. If he bought her a dress, he wanted her in it, immediately, turning her around, inspecting her. Ray began to massage her shoulders often, sniffing her hair. And walking by him when he watched TV, he'd often pull her on his lap. Poking into her rear, grinding, telling her how lovely she'd gotten. Then the bathroom door was opened, despite it being locked. Coming in as she showered because he "couldn't hold it". Leering at her through the glass as he pissed. Then one day, the doorknobs to the bathroom and her bedroom were changed. They could no longer be locked. Sticky panties in her laundry. And then it had happened.

She had woken up one Saturday, groggy, confused, and disorientated. It was already pushing 11 AM and she never slept that late, even on the weekend. She sat up and felt pain in her groin, like someone had kicked her. There was a bit of blood and she thought she had had her period at first. She limped slowly to the bathroom, wincing as she had sat down. A little blood came out when she peed milky white urine. She walked slowly to the living room and told them how she was feeling. She missed the long, lingering glance her mother gave her stepdad. The longer silence as he stared back at her. Then her mom got up and said she'd get her some ibuprofen and not to worry about it.

She did, however, when it happened the next two weekends. Groggy, fuzzy, weak in the late morning, one day sleeping until 1 PM. Sore, but no more blood. Then she slowly put it together. Mom's reassurances that her period hadn't come early. Why they had refused to take her to the clinic to check her out. And so, she had been careful the next Friday. Poured out her drink, picked at her food, and waited. She ended up wishing she'd drank her drugged drink after. Ray's sweaty body climbed over her, shocked to find her awake, then he smiled. Her screams didn't stop him. They didn't bring her mother. After a while, her screams stopped, just crying and taking it. She didn't even move when her mom came in and cleaned her. She took some pills and swallowed and slept hard.

And now? Now the pretense had ended. He just went where he wanted, did what he wanted. Like now, walking into the bathroom. She saw the hungry look in his eyes. Remembered her mom's repeated lesson. When he's happy, we're all happy. And no matter what, Mom was going to make him happy. And now it was Samantha's job as well. He smiled down at her, stroking her hair and cheek as she sat there. She tried to close her legs but he stopped her. Forced them wide, then pulled his sweats down as well. She looked away as he started peeing, mostly between her legs in the toilet, but on her belly and crotch too. As he did so, he patted her head and told her what a good girl she was. When he finished, he made her lick the tip and pulled her up. He wiped her, kneeling, tasting her as he bent her forward. God, she hated him.

And then, his large warm hand was on her belly, firm, strong. The other hand gripped her shoulder tight and kept her immobile. Butterflies exploded in her gut when he held her that way. And that's when she hated herself all the more. She almost wished he beat her. That he punched her, but no. He had, but lately, he'd been almost gentle and that was somehow all the worst. She gripped the top of the toilet as he positioned her, and felt warmth as he spat on her slit. Then a soft moan escaped as the head slid up and down it. Her moan. She wanted to die, to puke in the toilet. Instead, she shivered and waited for the part he never did gently.


He didn't ease in. She felt his hands grip her tighter on her belly and shoulder, a sudden thrust, and then, impaled, so small under him. She began to cry as he kissed her head, the nape of her neck, telling her she was a woman now. She let go of the toilet and gripped his arms tightly, as he held and used her. She didn't realize or notice the drool that ran down her chin, stringing against the toilet. She didn't hear her grunts and moans as she shook. She was barely even aware of her crying, both in pleasure and pain. She just knew that what he was doing now was worse than drugging her and raping her in her sleep. He made her enjoy it.

Tears dripped along with her drool on the toilet for long minutes as he fucked her. His initial rough pace slowed to gentle circular thrusts. The hand on her belly slid up, pinching at her nipples, and then down to her clit. Only when she began to buck and quiver did he speed up. And then, she shook hard, crying more. Followed by his whisper.

"That's a good cunt," he told her, and then, he sped the intensity up, holding her, fucking her harder and harder. She welcomed the pain now. It distracted from what her body had just done. She was surprised when he stopped and pulled out of her, weak-kneed, jerking her standing by her hair.

"Get the panties you're wearing to school today, NOW!" he said. When she didn't move for a second he slapped her and Samantha bolted. She came back and told her to put them on now. As she did, he jerked his cock, pulled her close, and kissed her deeply. She was confused, her emotions all over the place, as he pulled out her panties and came on them, making sure it pooled in the center. Then he pulled the wet fabric up against her. Ray kissed her again and told her to get dressed. She did, sore and wet. He had her sit on his lap for breakfast. Her mom said nothing, all smiles. The perfect family. And then, she went to high school, sticky, aching, and ever the more confused.

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