“Wow, look at you!” A man with wide, dark eyes greets me as I walk into his shop. “You’re all grown up!”

I barely recognize him and blush at the way he’s staring so intently, even though I realize he’s my uncle and he’s likely just doing that weird, polite thing older people do when you haven’t seen them in forever. How long has it been anyway? Five years? I quickly think back to when I last saw him and remember that it was around my ninth birthday, when his hair had been more brown than grey, and right before he’d gotten locked up for something or other (my mom refuses to talk about it, but we all assume it was embezzling or something white collar, since he’s always owned a jewelry shop). Not five years ago then, but ten, since I just turned nineteen.

“I’m getting married,” I say shyly, holding out my hand as I approach him.

I think he’ll really like the gem my fiancé picked out for me, but he just squints at it briefly and nods. “How about that. Well, what can I do for you today, Little Miss?”

My blush deepens at the childhood nickname, although it kind of hurts my feelings that he doesn’t seem interested in the ring Caleb chose. That’s part of the reason I’m here, though, to pick out my own wedding band and update the engagement ring in the event it doesn’t match. My mom told me if anyone was an expert at designing jewelry, it’d be my Uncle Roderick, and I trust her opinion above all else. She’d at least seemed to like the pretty, square diamond that my fiancé had chosen for me.

“I’m just looking for something to match my ring,” I say softly.

It feels like I don’t really know my uncle anymore, and like he’s a stranger, and that sensation makes my insides tighten with unease. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

“How about this one?” my uncle asks, pointing down into the display case at a lovely platinum band full of little square diamonds.

I lean over to get a closer look, instantly dazzled by the reflecting light of the display case perfectly accentuating all of the gemstones, and my unease lessens. It’s a stunning ring he’s pointing to. Rainbows seem to shoot from each facet of the diamond band, gleaming magnificently. Maybe my nervousness isn’t warranted at all. The ring is absolutely breathtaking.

My face reddens when I notice that my uncle’s eyes seem to be stuck on the sloping neckline of my blouse. He shifts and stares me in the eye when I straighten.

“Uh, er, that’s very nice,” I stutter.

“Looks like a perfect fit,” he says, his face neutral as he unlocks the case and takes the ring out; he holds it out to me and I take the velvet box in my hands, trying to mentally shake off the feeling that he was just staring lewdly at me.

Because that’s absurd, right? He watched me grow up, in a way. And I’m pretty sure he was one of the first people to hold me in the hospital after my mother gave birth to me. There’s no way he would consider me a sexual being, even if I’m now grown and have a noticeably curvy body.

“This one is a little more expensive. I should have asked what price range you’re looking for,” my uncle says. “This one is priced at five-thousand, because it’s of the highest quality with diamonds that are—”

My mind blanks out at the astronomical price, and I barely catch his explanation of carats and gem cut as I push the velvet box back towards him, shaking my head. “Oh no,” I say, my face turning bright red, “I don’t think we can afford all that….”

Caleb’s in the military, and although I don’t know what he spent on my engagement ring I know it can’t be nearly as much as what my uncle is asking for this wedding band, and I feel poor and shamed all at once.

“That’s alright,” he says lightly, taking the box from me. “We do have credit options.”

A part of me feels like I should ask him about them, even though I would never put my fiancé in that financial position. Before I can nervously start to backpedal, my uncle begins to laugh, and my blue eyes snap to his face.

“I suppose Melissa told you I’d give you the family discount?”

I shrug, deeply embarrassed, because obviously my mom had made it seem like her brother would ‘take care of me’ but now that I’m in his shop it seems ludicrous that he’d just give away valuables to make us happy, or out of some sense of duty. It all feels tacky and cheap, and I wish I could excuse myself and tell Caleb to just pick me out a plain silver band to go along with the wonderful ring he’s already gifted me.

“I just might, you know….” my uncle continues softly. “Have I told you the story behind my ring?”

He lifts his paw of a hand and shows me a plain bronze ring with a little ruby set in it. It’s horribly ugly, in my opinion, and yet when my gaze locks onto it I find I can’t look away. There’s something majestic about it. It glitters like a red blood drop and there’s a whisper in my head that tells me to keep looking at it. I stare as he brings it closer to my face, to really let me see it.

“It’s an old family heirloom,” he whispers. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” I find myself saying, even though there’s nothing about it I should like.

But politeness wasn’t why I agreed, because I can’t tear my eyes away from it. Somehow, it’s utterly fascinating. The way it shines so brilliantly, almost glowing as I continue to stare, and for some reason little whispers form in my mind: look at it, really look at it.

“It’s nice, huh?” my uncle asks softly.

“It is nice,” I find myself saying, almost as if the words are forming on their own, along with a warm buzz growing inside my brain, as though compelling me to speak.

“You like it?”

“I like it,” I say, the warmth trickling down my spine and filling me up.

“You like it so much that you might be willing to do whatever I asked of you, in this moment,” my uncle says soothingly.

A sharp spike of fear lances through me at those words, because they seem so bizarre given our light conversation, but I find I can’t draw my eyes away from the glowing redness of his ring. “Mmhmm,” my traitorous mouth hums, even though I don’t want to say anything at all.

“Let me give you a taste of its power,” Uncle Roderick whispers. “Kiss it.”

Without knowing why, I instantly bend to place my lips against the hardness of his ring, the warmth in my mind growing into a persistent heat. I gasp as I pull away, frightened by the way I don’t seem to be in control of my actions, yet I can’t bring my questioning gaze up to meet Roderick’s; my eyes remain on his ring.

“From here on out, I’ll give you choices, so choose wisely.” His tone has turned from softness to a chilling sort of command, and if I could I would run out of the store. Run all the way home. Run up the stairs and into my bedroom, to hide in the comforting warmth of my bed. “Pull your blouse down and show me your lovely tits, or I’ll make you take it off so that everyone might notice and see.”

My breath freezes in my lungs and my blood runs cold. What the fuck is happening? Surely I must be having a nightmare, because this can’t really be reality, can it?

I don’t do or say anything, and Roderick sighs loudly, clearly unimpressed by my inaction.

“Take off your top,” he commands.

I want to scream, but don’t, as my hands immediately move to pull my white blouse off. I drop it to the floor and shiver as my lacy bra is exposed for everyone to see. There’s no one else in the shop with us, but there are passerbys outside, and I’m suddenly terrified that they might have noticed the young woman in the jewelry store disrobing, although I can’t turn around to check.

“If anyone were to come in now, they’d think you were behaving like quite a wicked little slut, you know? Really consider your next actions, Little Miss….”

I glare at the ring, my jaw clenched so tight that I think my teeth might break.

“Next option, come behind the service desk with me, or stand there and take off your skirt.”

I whine pitifully as I willingly move to walk around the long glass display cases to join my uncle behind them. There’s no way I’m going to keep disrobing out in the customer area where any Joe or Jane might see me, and at least behind the cases I’ll be a little more hidden.

Uncle Roderick beams at me, lifting his hand again so that my eyes catch on his ring, and whispers, “Good girl. What a very good girl you are….”

“Stop,” I gasp.

“Don’t speak,” he commands me, and the glimmering redness of the ring shimmers inside my dilating pupils, pushing a throbbing heat into my mind.

My tongue goes slack in my mouth and all I can do is stare helplessly at the ruby adorning Roderick’s finger.

“Show me your panties, or I’ll command you to take off your bra.”

I whine and try to tear my eyes away from the hideous redness that’s filling up my entire vision, but I can’t do it—can’t look anywhere else or summon the courage to show my horrible uncle my underwear. How could he do this to me? The warmth in my mind isn’t quite dulling the terror of the situation and I want to plead with him: why? Why—why—why?

“Off with the bra then,” Uncle Roderick says snappishly.

My hands go behind my back to undo the little metal clasps, even though I tell myself to remain still, to not listen to any more of these awful instructions. The lacy black bra falls away, exposing my large white tits to my uncle, and anyone else who might catch a glimpse of me from outside.

“God, how lovely,” he whispers, taking in the pinkness of my small nipples as they pucker in the cool air of the shop. “Like little ripe berries….”

I don’t want to hear his lewd thoughts and try my hardest to block out his words, block out the compelling rush of warmth in my mind. It’s impossible though. All I can see is the dazzling crimson of his ring, pulling all my attention towards it like a gaping red chasm. It almost feels like a warm drum is beating all through me. Commanding me to action. Propelling me forward into a suicide mission.

“You can sit on this stool behind me and remain unseen, or I can make you play with your lovely tits for all the world to see.”

I instinctively move for the small, metal chair that’s pushed against the wall behind him. It’s low enough so that when I sit in it, I can tell that the large, open windows of the storefront no longer give any view to me, even though my eyes are still on Uncle Roderick’s hateful ring. I still don’t understand the power that it has over me, but I do understand it’s something extraordinary. Like being shot into space and seeing all of the cosmos or something. Like seeing the heavens. Like staring into the abyss of true power—of God.

“Good girl. I’m going to make this a little more pleasurable for you. Your cunt is going to start feeling very wet and very tingly. Become aroused, Little Miss.”

I gasp as shivers of pleasure begin deep within me, wanting to fight against my uncle’s words but already knowing the futility of it. I feel my lacy black panties grow slick and my insides begin to tighten the way they do when Caleb kisses me deeply, suddenly remembering his masculine scent and the way I feel so small and protected in his embrace. My clit swells and throbs as though it’s been toyed with and licked. My skin goosepimples and flushes with warmth. My head grows swimmy, lust filling it like helium does a balloon. My pussy tingles, practically begging to be caressed.

“You can pull off your skirt and masturbate for me willingly, or I can make you go out to the display window and do it for all the world to see.”

My mind races but settles on that if I obey him it might be the end of his demands. I pull off my dark skirt, sliding my panties down to cut around my knees, and then I slide my fingers through my wet folds, wishing I could close my eyes but still locked onto my uncle’s red ring. It feels so good to touch myself, and shame floods me as I push two fingers inside my pussy as I pump into myself and massage my aching clit with my palm.

“What a very good little slut you are, Misty,” my uncle practically purrs, using my given name like a slur. “Look how wet you are! Dripping all over my stool and onto the floor. Open yourself for me.”

I moan helplessly, horrified by the terrifying words he’s saying but unable to do anything but fuck myself with my slender fingers. Pleasure courses through me as I push my fingers in deeper, stretching myself out and widening my legs so that he can see the obscene one-woman show of his niece masturbating before him like a common whore.

“That’s right. Tell me how it feels. Now.”

“Wet,” I croak, tears springing to my eyes. “Hot. Tight.”

“You’re so very pink down there, my dear. Has your fiancé fucked you yet?”

“Once,” I admit, shamefully, because it feels like I deserve this somehow for not holding out until marriage. We were supposed to wait, but we got carried away one day—although we’d been very careful, using a condom and with him pulling out to ensure no accidents happened.

“Then I guess it doesn’t matter if I get a little taste, hmm?” Uncle Roderick says, and although I can’t see his eyes because mine are glued to his ring, I know they are glittering darkly. “Stand up and press your big tits against the display case, ass to me.”

I’m furious that he’s not given me an alternative choice, because I instantly rise—withdrawing my questing fingers from myself—and move to lean over the display case, my tits hitting the cool glass and sending a shockwave through me as my skirt and panties hobble my ankles.

“That’s a good little cumslut,” my uncle whispers, pushing his ringed hand forward on the glass so that my eyes attach to it again as he positions himself behind me. “Keep looking at my ring. Stay still. Don’t speak.”

I hear the jingle of his belt buckle being undone and the little whir of his zip, and then I feel his blunt, warm cockhead press against my tender opening. Is my mom’s older brother really going to fuck me? Am I really going to let him? Why can’t I figure out a way to get out of this?

The ring sucks my concentration into it and a dazed, drugged feeling holds me in place as my uncle slides his thick cock inside me, inch by pulsing inch. He’s not wearing a condom, my mind screams, but I can’t even say anything about it, because my mouth suddenly feels like useless mush.

My wet pussy stretches around him, and my insides feel so full and bloated as he buries himself balls deep (Christ, why is there so much of it? Is he really that much bigger than Caleb?). He groans deeply as he grasps one of my hips and drives himself forward. He doesn’t stop even though he’s all the way in, instantly thrusting back and forth to rock me hard against the glass case, making it creak.

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight,” he whispers with a grunt. “There’s nothing like teenage cunt.”

I’m so grossed out by his words and what’s happening, but my pussy seems to grow wetter as he begins to pound into it with intense, measured strokes. Please stop, I want to cry out, but my whimpers don’t sound pained or unwilling, only desperate and rising as he pummels me soundly.

“That’s a good girl,” he rasps, squeezing me with his gripping hand and making a steady slap-slap-slap sound as he collides with my rounded ass. “Such a fucking good girl….”

He hammers into me even harder, making my insides ache as I can’t draw away from him, punishing my pussy in a way I’ve never envisioned a lover would. My tits slide painfully against the glass case, squeaking as the flesh drags and my nipples turn into fiery points. I feel hollowed out, my uncle driving himself deeper and deeper (so impossibly deep), slamming into my cervix as his breaths turn into heavy pants and his groans grow louder and deeper.

“So fucking good, you feel so fucking good,” he whispers through ragged exhalations.

Long minutes pass by as he fucks me mercilessly, and I wonder if it’s ever going to stop or if he’s just going to fuck me until I go insane, with my pussy stretching impossibly wide and burning from his attentions. Finally, he slows and presses himself tight against me, his cock spasming hard like a leaping frog.

“Oh!” he groans, “Cum for me you little bitch!”

The red ring nearly blinds me as my vision expands and my insides clench tight. All I can feel is the wet gush of my uncle’s cum filling me up, and then something deep inside me snaps, bliss crashing over me like a tsunami’s wave: all wet-heat and an endless throbbing as my uncle continues to empty himself and my insides milk him dry.

Distantly I hear myself keening, and everything’s so bright—white and red and infinite as the high of my climax stretches on and on. His cum leaks out of me and drips down my thighs as he pins me under him, giving little shaky thrusts that let me know he’s still enjoying abusing my tender cunt, still bathing in the aftershocks of his orgasm. He lets go of my hip and slaps my ass as he straightens.

“Good fucking show, Little Miss. Earned yourself a diamond ring, me thinks….”

I don’t even want it anymore, but I am relieved when he pulls away, breaking my locked gaze with his mind-addling ring and letting his softening flesh slip free from me. My pussy feels open and sore, leaking thick globs of sticky fluids (my uncle’s DNA, my mind shudders) to fall upon my dark skirt and panties.

“Tell your fiancé it’s his, okay?”

I barely understand the words when my uncle shoves one thick finger back up inside my cum-slicked hole, wiggling it inside me as I yelp.

“That’s a good love,” he whispers, withdrawing to slap his wet hand against my outer thigh.

He gets out the expensive diamond band to set it beside my trembling shoulders, which are still hunched over the display case. I don’t want to move, so ashamed by what just happened that I feel like a deer frozen in headlights—or maybe after the collision when it’s smeared across the road.

“Get dressed, I have other customers that may come in soon.”

Uncle Roderick disappears into the back of his shop, leaving me to shakily pull on my clothes and pocket the ring that I’ve just whored myself out for. Part of me wants to leave it, but I don’t know what I’d tell my mom if I return with nothing, and I know there’s no way in hell I’m going to admit (or accuse my uncle) to having done any of this. It’ll be better for everyone if I just pretend that the wedding band was a nice gift. No one would ever believe me anyway—that I was hypnotized by the weird ruby ring my uncle wears and that I was compelled to let myself be fucked out in the open front floor of his shop. It all sounds so insane that I can barely believe it really happened myself. Only the raw, soreness between my legs assures me that it wasn’t a delusional fabrication, and when I get home, I shower and finger out my uncle’s seed as best as I can, vowing to never see or think about that horrible man again.