Chapter 91 UNCLE'S RULES
Chapter 91 UNCLE'S RULES
UNCLE’S RULES
VICTOR LESNAR (ML) - 40YRS
SOPHIA DERVIC (FL) - 18YRS
SOPHIA’S POV
I turned eighteen three months ago, but it feels like I’ve been trapped in limbo forever.
After the accident—Mom and Dad gone in one cruel twist of fate—I had nowhere to go. Uncle Victor stepped in without hesitation. Mom’s older brother, the one I’d only met at holidays, the quiet giant who sent birthday cards with crisp hundred-dollar bills inside. He flew me out to his ranch in Montana the week after the funeral, and I’ve been here ever since.
The ranch is isolated—acres of rolling hills, a barn that smells of hay and leather, and a big log house that echoes when it’s empty. Which it usually is. Victor works long days with the horses and the land, coming in only at dusk, sweat-slicked and silent.
He’s forty now, broader and harder than the photos I remember. Six-foot-four, shoulders like barn beams, dark hair threaded with early silver, jaw shadowed even when he shaves. Tattoos from his Marine days snake up his thick forearms. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, his voice is low thunder that makes my stomach flip.
I’ve been testing boundaries since I arrived—staying out late with the few local kids, blasting music, leaving dishes in the sink. Anything to feel something other than grief. He never yelled. Just fixed me with those steel-blue eyes and said, “We’ll talk about it later.”
Tonight, later arrived.
I snuck out to a bonfire with some ranch hands’ kids, drank cheap beer, let a boy named Jake kiss me sloppily behind the trucks. I stumbled home just after two a.m., giggling and tipsy, thinking Victor would be asleep.
He wasn’t.
He was waiting in the kitchen, arms crossed, wearing nothing but faded jeans and a white undershirt stretched tight over his chest. The overhead light carved shadows across his face.
“Bedroom. Now.”
No yelling. Just that voice. I swallowed hard and obeyed.
In my room, he closed the door behind us. The click sounded final.
“You’re eighteen now, Sophia. Old enough to know better.” He stepped closer, towering over me. “I gave you one rule: home by midnight. You broke it.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but my heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
He sat on the edge of my bed, patting his thigh. “Over my knee.”
My breath caught. “Uncle Victor—”
“Now.”
I hesitated only a second before draping myself across his lap, my sundress riding up to expose my thighs. His hand settled on my lower back—huge, warm, steady. The other lifted the hem of my dress, baring my cotton panties.
The first smack landed hard across both cheeks. I gasped, jolting forward.
“Count, will you?” it was more of an order.
“One.”
Another, harder. The sting bloomed hot and sharp.
“Two.”
He didn’t hold back. His palm cracked down again and again—left cheek, right cheek, the sensitive undercurve—until my ass was throbbing, tears pricking my eyes. By ten, I was squirming, whimpering, my panties soaked through. I could feel his hardness pressing against my hip, thick and undeniable.
He paused, hand resting possessively on my heated skin. “You’re dripping, little girl.”
I whimpered, mortified and aching.
He hooked his fingers in my panties and dragged them down to my knees. Cool air kissed my exposed pussy. I was shaved bare—just a habit from swimming in high school—and I knew he could see everything: swollen lips, glistening arousal.
His rough fingertips traced my slit, gathering wetness. “This what happens when Uncle punishes you?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
He circled my clit once, twice—slow, deliberate—then slid one thick finger inside me. I moaned, clenching around the intrusion.
“So tight,” he growled. “Never been touched?”
“No,” I gasped.
He added a second finger, stretching me, curling to hit a spot that made my hips buck. His thumb pressed my clit in firm circles.
“You don’t come until I say,” he warned. “This is punishment.”
He fucked me slowly with his fingers, building the pressure unbearably, then pulling back every time I got close. Tears streamed down my face as I begged—please, Uncle, please let me come.
After what felt like forever, he withdrew, leaving me empty and desperate.
He lifted me off his lap and stood me between his thighs. My dress was bunched at my waist, panties around my ankles, ass burning.
“Look at me.”
I did, tears blurring my vision.
“You’ll follow rules from now on. Or next time, I use my belt.”
I nodded frantically.
He cupped my chin, thumb brushing my lip. “Good girl. Now go to bed. And Sophia—no touching yourself tonight.”
He left, closing the door softly.
I collapsed on my bed, ass throbbing, pussy aching, more turned on than I’d ever been.
And I knew, deep down, I was going to break another rule soon.