Story Note: This is a one-shot prologue to Scars and Scars Tissue.


Scars: The Beginning


Theresa arched an eyebrow when she seen Briar coming down the stairs, wondering just what in the blue hell her demon spawn from hell was planning on doing. More specifically, where she thought she was going dressed like a whore. “You best get your ass on upstairs and change outta them clothes.” She snapped, flicking the ash from her cigarette on the table, missing the ashtray.


Rolling her grey eyes, Briar ignored her and halted by the table, propping the heel of her knee high vinyl boot on a chair. Still ignoring her mother, she tightened the laces, smirking when Theresa began muttering under her breath. “Try not to wait up for me, would ya?” She sneered, straightening up and adjusted the hem of her skin tight black skirt. She also wore a long sleeved white blouse, the suggested innocence ruined by the blood red corset she wore over it, the red matching the color of her lips. Her face was deadly pale, thanks to rice powder, her eyes rimmed in red and black liner. She hadn’t bothered with her hair as currently she was wearing her black tresses in tiny braids, something her mother hated with a passion.


“You aren’t going out tonight.” Theresa said, standing up and glared at Briar, clenching and unclenching her fists.


“Please, don’t even think you can start with me, you old bitch.” Her daughter’s gaze was cold and unfeeling, though her lips were now curling into a wicked smile. “You just sit your ass down and shoot up another dose, hmm? I’m sure Mark will LOVE coming home to THAT.”


“You just leave him outta this!” A panicked look entered Theresa’s eyes. “You stay away from him, you hear me? You be a good girl or else he’ll leave us!”


Briar was already walking out the door. “What a tragedy that would be.” was her sarcastic parting shot.




All Mark wanted to do was sleep. He had just spent the past twenty-two hours on a plane and was not looking forward to spending the weekend with his wife and step-daughter. All week it had been nothing but ‘Briar did this’ and ‘Briar did that’, Theresa wouldn’t shut the fuck up. How did she expect him to do anything when he was a thousand damn miles away?


By the time the cab finally pulled up to the driveway it was past two A.M. Grunting, he paid the driver and slipped out of the car, taking a moment to stretch his long limbs before getting his bag. After being cramped for so long, he was in no hurry to do anything other than stand there and let the feeling be restored to his limbs.


“Fuck… What the hell, Bri?”


Slowly, Mark set his bag down and glanced towards the garage. He could see that the bay door was shut, but apparently the back porch light had blown or was off, because he couldn’t see much more.


“Get out from under my skirt, I’m not in the mood,” Came his seventeen year old step-daughter’s voice, floating out of the darkness to him. “yet.”


“Well I got that covered right here, baby.”


Mark was guessing that oily, not quite manly but almost there voice belonged to Briar’s boyfriend –he snorted at that- of the moment. Quietly, he began creeping down the drive, keeping close to the house. It didn’t take a genius to realize what she was doing when he heard a very odd, yet familiar sound pierced the mostly quiet night.


She had inhaled, or snorted, something between them. The little cuntrag was doing cocaine in his damn driveway. Fuck being out past curfew and a minor, she was doing drugs. He could just imagine the consequences of her being busted, with him RIGHT there.


You going to share that?” The boy demanded.


She made a negative noise that was followed by another snuffing sound.


“Briar, c’mon baby…”


“Boy, get the fuck outta here.” Mark snarled, having heard more than enough. He smiled a grim smile of satisfaction when he heard Briar let out a panicked curse along with her boyfriend. He followed the boy’s rather quick progress down the drive, wondering if the kid usually ran that fast. Mark then turned his attention to Briar, who seemed to have recovered from her shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” He demanded, not bothering to keep the growl from his voice.


Briar closed her eyes and leaned back against the garage bay door, obviously enjoying her rush. When she finally looked at him, her grey orbs were shiny looking, and she was grinning widely. “Shouldn’t you be inside pretending to like my mother?”


He grunted, wondering what his jail sentence would be for knocking her on her ass. “Inside. Now.” He ordered, not surprised at all when she ignored him. Snorting, he reached out and grabbed her roughly by the upper arm, digging his fingers into her skin.


She was giggling insanely at him, allowing him to drag her towards the side door of the house.


Shaking his head in disgust, Mark threw Briar away from him once they were inside, reaching over to flick on the kitchen light as he kicked the door shut behind him. He watched impassively in the dim lighting as she stumbled backwards into the table, her hands flying behind her to grip the edge and steady herself.


“I like it rough.” She laughed, wiggling her eyebrows at him suggestively.


For once, his idiot step-daughter had rendered him speechless. He had limited contact with her and when he did interact with Briar, she tended to remain quiet and in the background. He had a feeling that Theresa had something to do with that.


Briar apparently realized she had done something that was rarely accomplished and her grin broadened. A bit unsteadily, she pulled herself up so she was sitting on the table.


Mark had to look anywhere but directly at her, especially when she sat with her legs spread as far apart as her constricting skirt would allow. “You need to go to bed.” He said gruffly, turning so his back was to her and reached down as discreetly as he could to adjust the front of his jeans. His insane step-daughter, Briar, of ALL women, was now giving him an erection. He needed a drink, a quick tumble with his wife and then to sleep this all off.


From behind him, Briar was reaching down to unlace the front of her corset, a wicked smile on her lips. Hopping down, and then stumbling in her heeled boots, she managed to make her way to where the ‘rents kept their liquor, pulling down Mark’s bottle of whiskey.


He turned back in time to see her taking long swallows directly from HIS bottle of Jack Daniels, though the way her lips wrapped around the top of the bottle, he wasn’t angry so much as resigned. The cunt was going to torture him, and he was going to let her. That or he’d have to stop her. He was the adult, and she was underage, coked out, and now working on getting shitfaced. Parenting award of the year definitely did not go to Theresa.


When she held the bottle out to him, he swiped it away and finished draining it, wiping away what trickled down his chin. “Now go to bed.”


“What if I don’t want too?”


Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mark contemplated calling Theresa down here to tend to HER goddamn daughter. “Briar, I’m not in the-“ He automatically reached down for her wrist when her hand went from dangling at her side to his crotch. “What the HELL are you doing?”


“Well, in a minute, I’m going to be sucking your cock.”


Again, she had rendered him speechless and before Mark could even think of something coherent to say, she had shoved him backwards into a kitchen chair. Out of some sense of boundaries and false ethics, he tried to stop her when she began unfastening his jeans, knowing in the back of his mind that if he truly wanted to stop her, he could have, easily. As it was, he didn’t, reluctantly wanting to see just how far she would take this.


He inhaled sharply when he felt her hand wrap around his cock, a second later it was free from the confinement of his jeans only to be engulfed in her hot, wet mouth. “Christ…” He groaned, his hands moving to take her braids, gripping tightly.


There was something definitely wrong with him. He was taking advantage of his high and possibly drunk step-daughter. Granted, she was the one who had come onto him, but he was the adult and… and… he growled when she pulled her mouth away, looking down at her head out of clouded eyes.


Licking her lips, Briar stood up and grabbed the hem of her skirt, tugging it upwards until the material was bunched around her waist, revealing a pair of black thongs. She looped an arm around his neck as she settled himself on his lap, reaching down between them to adjust him against her.


Not even thinking rationally anymore, Mark wrapped one arm around her waist, drawing her tightly against him and arched his hips against her, his cock rubbing against her panty covered slit, knowing that flimsy piece of fabric was the only thing protecting either of them from what they both truly wanted.


She moved against him, pressing her forehead against his and stared directly into his eyes as she ground herself against him, rubbing up and down in time with him. After a moment, she reached back to guide his hand down until he was palming her ass, purring throatily when he moved his other hand down as well.


“Like that, Briar?” He murmured huskily, tracing the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue while he kneaded her cheeks, never stopping in their slow grind against each other.


Mmmhmmm…” She murmured, wiggling just enough to give her room to move her panties aside, letting out a moan of pure pleasure when she felt skin to skin contact, her juices coating him. She raised herself up a fraction as he skimmed his fingers along the curve of her ass, feeling him tugging the string aside and laughed darkly. "Do it.”


If he was surprised, it didn’t show. The only thing on his face was lust and he was taking complete advantage of this moment. He ran his finger in a slow circle around her hole, his lips curving into a silent snarl when she let go of his shoulders in order to grab her cheeks, spreading them for him. “Slut.” He hissed, biting down on the side of her neck.


“Yes…” She groaned, sweat streaking through the rice powder on her face, revealing flushed skin beneath, her movements against his slicked cock coming faster and harder, each slide causing him to brush against her throbbing clit. Briar’s gray eyes narrowed slightly when she felt his finger moving to her pussy, biting down on her bottom lip when he replaced his dick with the digit.


He smirked, reading the brief annoyance on her face before returning to her other, tighter hole. His now lubricated finger resuming its exploration, taking it slowly to avoid hurting her, much. It seemed she liked a little pain and that was cemented when she began squirming, breathing heavily as her glassed over eyes met his. Reading the want there as clear as day, he slowly added a second finger, stretching her, gritting his teeth at how hot she was around him, how tight, and could only imagine that heat being wrapped around other parts of him.


“Could you imagine if that was your cock?” She growled in his ear, resuming moving, and rubbing forward against his length before falling back onto his fingers. With another low, wanton moan, she tilted her head back, her multiple braids falling behind her shoulders.


He could imagine, and he would have preferred it, but this bout was coming to a close, for both of them. With each slide, each grind, he was that much nearer to cumming. Gritting his teeth, Mark fought back the urge to bite her, wanting to mark the fleshy area between neck and shoulder, just to show he had claimed her, however briefly. “Almost there…” He breathed, his head turning to meet hers in a passionate, demanding kiss.


Briar gripped at his shoulders, digging her fingernails through his shirt and into skin, gasping in his mouth as her movements became more and more frantic.


He bit down on her lower lip, drawing it into his mouth for a brief moment before wrenching his head away, throwing it back as he bucked his hips one final time.


She was moaning unintelligibly, feeling hot spurts of his seed drenching her already soaked pussy and panties, tightening around his still thrusting digits for several moments longer before slumping against him.


Mark slowly pulled his fingers from her, his hands gliding up to rest on her hips and just pressed his head against hers, struggling to breathe properly. Even without intercourse in the actual sense of it, that had been one of the most intense sexual experiences he could recall… and with her of all people.


Briar sat there, her head resting against his chest for what seemed like ages before finally pushing herself away and shakily getting to her feet. She stared at him intently for a moment, smirking slightly when he just stared back and then followed his gaze down. She took in her still bunched skirt and the cum that was drying against her, the front of her black thongs still lodged obscenely to the side, revealing herself to him.


“Don’t.” He ordered when she went to straighten herself out, reaching out with his strong hands to nudge her thighs apart, running a hand up over her still wet slit and crooked two fingers. Green eyes glittering possessively, he gathered what wasn’t dried of his cum onto the digits before plunging his fingers into her. With his free hand, he gripped her right thigh to steady her when she moaned again, feeling her inner walls contracting around him, crooking his fingers slightly. “Watch me.” His voice was still ragged from his orgasm moments ago, and dark, possessiveness twisting his face.


Briar looked down, watching out of half-closed gray eyes as he repeatedly withdrew his fingers from her, traced them over her mound and everywhere else she was glistening with both their juices, only to fuck her with those long, coated digits again and again. She had no idea how many more times she came, just watching him doing this to her turning her on all over again.


When he was finally satisfied, he leaned back in the chair, watching as she stumbled backwards, away from him. Her cheeks were flushed, the rice powder now mostly nothing but running white streaks on her face and she looked thoroughly fucked, even if she hadn’t been. “Go to bed.”


Nodding, she simply turned and walked out of the kitchen, holding onto the wall for support.




“What time did you get in last night?” Theresa demanded when her daughter finally showed up in the kitchen the following morning, frowning as she took a sip of her coffee.


“No idea.” Briar said, returning her mother’s sneer before gracing her step-father with an eye roll, ignoring his arched eyebrow as she walked over to the cupboards to get down a bottle of Tylenol.


Mark listened, enjoying his own morning coffee, as Theresa berated her daughter for her late night, not surprised when Briar just shrugged it all off, returning the bitchy remarks with a few of her own. He had no idea if she remembered what had occurred between them and didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, it was over and if she was smart, she’d never mention it to anyone.


Though he would never turn her down if she decided she wanted to repeat the experience either.