Pregnant For My Bully

Amelia Forbes

182 days left, I reminded myself, simultaneously trying to calm my breathing. Realizing I was griping at my newly changed bedsheets, I slowly released my fingers.

I wiped the furious tears that had started to form in my eyes, watching a single tear fall and sink gracefully on the fresh sheets.

“Why do I keep falling for Jason’s pranks?” I queried myself aloud.

By now I should be used to this. To everything. Used to him pulling my legs and making fun of me, used to hearing how worthless I truly was.

Then why?

Why do I keep believing every darn word that comes out of his mouth? Was I really that stupid to think that he would tell Mrs Sandra he didn’t want to be partnered with me?

Of course he wouldn’t.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

It was a great opportunity for him to keep making my life a living hell-not that he wasn’t doing that already-so why not?

Right?

I guess I really was stupid like he always said.

Swallowing with difficulty, I trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen to meet Nana sitting at her usual knitting spot.

She looked up as I walked in, her white eyebrows puckered in a frown. She dropped the cardigan she was knitting and observed me.

Gesturing in sign language she asked, what’s wrong?

I cocked an eyebrow in surprise.

How could she tell?

Yes I can tell, silly, she said smiling. You’re my baby girl.

Smiling again, she asked. Now what’s wrong?

Defeatedly, I slumped into one of the kitchen chairs and buried my head in my hands.

I was paired with Jason for a Biology project, I signed.

Thinking about it brought a fresh wave of subdued pain.

My plan from the very beginning was to focus on my studies and pass good enough to get a scholarship. How would that work when I was partnered with Jason Shitface Asshat Davenport.

Nana frowned. Him again? Can’t you request for a different partner, maybe put in a complaint

My head shot up in alarm. That was literally begging for it. It would be a disaster.

I signed quickly, No Nana, I can’t do that. I tried, desperately trying to wave her attention away from the idea.

The last thing I needed right now was another episode with Jason.

Seeing she wasn’t convinced I tried again. It’s no big deal, just a tad annoying. I’ll deal with it don’t worry.

Smiling for effect, I walked up to her squeezing her in a tight hug. Relax, Nana, it’s fine.

Promise me you’ll be okay, she signed, doubt still lurking in her eyes.

I nodded.

Succumbing, she returned my hug, patting my back lightly.

Forcing a smile I asked, So. . . what’s for dinner?

Her features relaxed as she smiled. It’s a surprise.

I laughed lightly. I’m prepared to be wowed, I signed as I walked up the stairs back to my room.

I ignored the lump in my throat and repeated my mantra in my head. You’re okay. You’re. . . just fine. You’re doing great.

All I had to do was get through the project and count down the days. Seeing as I would be doing all the work-obviously, the great Jason Davenport would never lift a finger to help-I would make sure to round up as soon as possible and get it over with.

Just 182 days left.

Jason Davenport

I took a long hard drag at my cigarette as I sat in the large beanbag chair right beside the window in my room-to ward off the smoke in case dad got home from work early-watching dad’s gold digging third wife strike pose after pose as her personal photographer took shots of her bathed in the sun.

I hissed in contempt as she shouted orders from the reclining chair she lay in, pausing occasionally to apply some more oil to her skin.

Fake bitch.

If dad wasn’t so fucking blind he’d see that his beloved Ashley was nothing but a whore out to get his money.

I was starting to get pissed now. If only mom was alive. . .

Taking a sharp drag of my cigarette I raked my fingers through my hair. Everything always boiled down to Amanda fucking Forbes. Everything was her fault.

My frown deepened, hate coursing through me.

Hissing, I flung the remaining of the stubbed cigarette out the window and plunked down heavily on my bed.

As I whipped out my phone-planning to call Adrian over for a video game-I noticed two notifications; one from Kimberly and another from. . . Amelia?

What the fuck was she texting me for? So she’s bold enough to text me now?

I hissed. Guess I’ll have to correct that impression. Can’t have her feeling bold enough to do that now can we?

Not bothering to go through it, I tapped on Kim’s message instead.

A sharp breath escaped my lips.

“Fuck.”

A short video of Kimberly in nothing but a sexy red G-string, twerking her thick well-oiled ass, cheeks clapping against each other, increasing the tempo from fast to slow.

My lips fell open, stimulated by the clapping that sounded like two people fucking. Occasionally she would slide a finger in her clit, moaning deliciously every time she touched the right spot.

Unintentionally I let out a moan, feeling my already hard cock struggling to break free from my pants.

Scrolling, I paused as the next video came into view.

Her round nipple stood hard, firm and red and she slapped her boobs repeatedly, teasing, squeezing, jerking.

My cock throbbed, pushing harder against the thick fabric.

“Fuck.”

I dialed her number. She picked on the first ring.

“Did you like my little. . . gift?” She breathed from the phone.

My breathing was ragged. “Be here in 10 minutes.”

“On my way.”

Some minutes later she walked in. I scanned her slowly. She was dressed in a pink jumpsuit, so thin her taut nipples looked like they would pierce through them.

“So?” She asked seductively.

I smirked. “You look alright.”

“Alright?” She raised an eyebrow, rolling her eyes.

I shrugged, not letting her see the effect that jumpsuit was having on me.

I grabbed her butt, squeezing it a little. “Clothes off, Kim,” I said huskily.

She rolled her eyes again, unzipping the jumpsuit from the front and letting her boobs fall free.

She smirked, falling to the bed and propping her knees in her favourite position.

I grinned, slapping her butt and leaning in to kiss her. “You just know how to satisfy me don’t you?”

Without waiting for a reply I savagely tore my shirt off while Kimberly fumbled with my zipper.

I moaned in pleasure as she grabbed my pulsating cock and thrust it between her lips. As she made a fist round it and began to stroke, my bedroom door burst open.

Kimberly let out a yelp and tried to cover herself up as Dad walked in bristling mad.

“What the hell is going on here, boy!” His strong voice echoed through the room.

I quickly zipped up my jeans.

“Dad I can-”

“Shut your mouth and answer the question!”

Shooting Kimberly a death glare he fired, “Grab everything that belongs to you this instant and get the hell out of my house!”

Dad’s hand trembled in anger and he returned his attention to me. “I can see that you think that you’re some sort of big shot now. You think you can misbehave and do whatever the hell you feel like?” His nose flared in rage.

“Not in this house, boy!”

“Dad she’s here because we have homework together-”

“Homework?” Like the last time?!” He boomed. “Yes I saw you two the last time. Homework my foot!”

Turning to Kimberly he said, “What are you still doing here?”

Kimberly shot me a bitter look before grabbing her purse and speeding out the door.

“And if I ever, ever, see you here again, I’ll break both your legs!”

“And as for you,” He turned to me. “I’m cutting off your allowance for 6 months. No phone, no computer, no video games-”

My eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

“Dad-”

“-if you need to make a call you can use the landline. I’m seizing your car and all your gadgets and cutting off all your activities-”

Angry now, I screamed, “You can’t do that!”

“-except soccer. And that’s final!

With that he spun round and walked out, banging the door loudly.

I cursed loudly. What was I supposed to do grounded? I’d lose my fucking mind.

Groaning in frustration, I knocked down the glass vase on my bedside table and buried my head in my pillow.