CoyoteZero03 TKL
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- Dec 28, 2024
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A few more minutes passed, massaging them both, alternating, until their breathing became deep and steady. I look at them, their bodies are completely relaxed. I wait a little longer and then I hear it. A small snore, then another, Brianna has fallen asleep. I look at Daniela, her head is tilted to one side, her mouth slightly open, she is also snoring, softly.
The moment has come.
My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking. First, I go to Brianna, carefully turning her over on the table so she is lying on her back. Her body is just as I imagined, underdeveloped, almost like a high school teenager. Her hips are narrow, her breasts are small, almost non-existent. On the side table, I have what I prepared earlier, four strips of sturdy fabric with buckles, like those on seat belts, but longer.
I take her right wrist, lift it gently, and pass the strip through the opening in the stretcher, tying it tightly. I do the same with her left wrist, then her ankles, one by one, until she is completely immobilized in an X shape, her legs spread open revealing her slightly shaved pussy and her arms exposed, leaving her armpits fully visible. Now the little devil is at my mercy.
Now I turn to Daniela, my breath catches, my body tense, I also turn her carefully, leaving her face up. I slowly remove her towel, as if unwrapping a gift. Her body takes my breath away, even though she has impressive breasts, larger than mine, which are a B cup, she also has pale pink nipples, erect from the cool air in the room. Her waist narrows to give way to excitingly curved hips. Her legs are fleshy, long, and perfectly toned, with a nice butt and thighs. And her vagina... it's completely shaved, with soft lips and a pink tone that makes me immediately wet between my legs, which tickles me.
But before I lose myself in desire, I must secure my prey. I take the other two strips of fabric and grab her right wrist, her skin soft and warm. I pass it through the buckle and tighten it, not so much as to hurt her, but enough so that she cannot defend herself from the tickling I will do on her armpits. I do the same with her left wrist and then move to the foot of the stretcher. Her ankles are delicate, strong, I tie them one by one, extending her legs until she is in the same vulnerable position as her sister.
Now I have my daughter's bullies completely vulnerable and all to myself...
I kneel between the stretchers and look at Daniela's body, exposed and perfect, which provokes an overwhelming urge in me, not only for control, but also for adoration. I want to touch her, I want to feel her, I want to taste her. My hands, almost of their own accord, reach out and caress her belly; her skin is soft and warm. My fingers slowly move up to her breasts and caress them, feeling their softness.
I gently squeeze her pink nipples between my fingers and they harden even more, which makes me massage each nipple with my thumbs and index fingers. Part of me feels guilty, but the excitement is much stronger.
I lean in, unable to resist. She was the woman who made my girl cry, but she is so sexually attractive. My lips find her skin, and I give her a soft kiss on her stomach, just above her navel, taking the opportunity to smell her skin, which has a scent that reminds me of vanilla. My kisses become bolder, a trail of kisses descending from between her breasts, passing over her belly, until I reach the edge of her most feminine side.
My breathing becomes heavy, I feel that knot that many people experience when they have to give a presentation at school, that same knot I feel, which also gives me a slight tingling sensation all down my spine, I would describe it as little spiders crawling down my back. My fingers slide over her labia, they are wet, I run my index finger over them, feeling their shape, the warmth that emanates from them.
I lean closer, my tongue peeks out and traces a slow, deliberate line along her lips. The taste is intense, it tastes like Daniela. I part them with my fingers and my tongue finds her clitoris, small and already erect, and I give it a long, slow lick. A moan escapes my lips, a purely instinctive sound. I do it again, over and over, losing myself in the moment, in the power of having her like this, at my mercy, while she sleeps. It's my fantasy come true, added to the fact that I haven't had sex with anyone in two years.
After a moment, I force myself to stop. I didn't want to come there. I had to resist. There's still work to be done. However, I can't deny that even asleep, Daniela is capable of making me come...
I get up and go to Brianna. Her breasts are flat, with small, pink nipples. I play with them, pinching them gently, and then I look down and notice that her pubic hair isn't well shaved; it's growing unevenly. An idea, a whim, crosses my mind. I go to the bathroom and come back with a razor and shaving cream. Carefully, I shave her until she's completely smooth, like Daniela.
Once that's done, I sit on the stool between the two beds and wait. Half an hour later, I hear a moan. Brianna moves her head, her eyes slowly opening, confused.
“What...?”
Then, on the other side, Daniela also begins to wake up. She stretches, but the restraints prevent her from moving. Her eyes widen when she realizes she cannot move.
“What the hell?” she says, her voice hoarse from sleep, looking at her body, tied to the stretcher. Then she looks at her sister, in the same situation, and when she wants to look around, she looks at me, sitting quietly between them, in my black robe on a bench I placed between the two beds, with my legs crossed. Panic begins to invade her face.
“What are you doing?! Let us go! Let us go right now! You're getting yourself into trouble!”
Brianna is now fully awake, the terror in her eyes palpable. She says nothing, just looks at her sister, waiting for her to deal with the situation.
“Help! Help!” Daniela screams at the top of her lungs.
Her screams are lost in the room; the walls are soundproofed for this purpose. You can hear from the outside in, but not from the inside out.
“What... what do you want? Who the hell are you?”
"Who am I? Good question... The real question is, who are you two? Do you recognize yourselves? Look at yourselves. So vulnerable. Do you feel powerful now, huh, Dani?"
“What are you talking about? Let us go! You don't know who we are! You're crazy! Do you want money? I'll give you all you want!”
“Anyone I want? Hmm, what a tempting offer. But what can you two give me that I can't get myself? You have money, yes, but money is boring. I want something more fun. Do you know what's fun? Playing a game, a guessing game.”
“A game? You're crazy.”
“Maybe, but it's my game... Here's the first question, for you, Daniela, the oldest. What name comes to mind when you think of a short girl with brown hair, fair skin, glasses, who loves books, the most studious in the class?”
“What...? I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Let us go.”
“Wow, wrong answer. Try again. Think hard, a girl you and your friends call have been bullying her whole fucking life, one you push around in the hallways. Does that ring a bell now?”
Daniela's face falls. Panic turns to understanding. “No... it can't be.
“Bingo! You got it right. My name is Jennifer and I am Angela Maxwell's mother.”
“Oh, my God... please...”
“Please what, Daniela? Please forgive me? Please forget? Didn't Angela ask you to please stop when you were making fun of her? Didn't she ask you to please stop when you were making her life hell?”
“We're sorry... we're really sorry, it won't happen again.”
“You, little Brianna. Do you feel it too? Or are you just following your sister around like a lapdog?”
Brianna sobs, speechless, shaking her head.
“How sweet... that touches me. But words are cheap, apologies are empty. I'm not here for empty words, I'm here for justice, a more... intimate justice. Do you know what intimacy is, girls? It's being close, very close, knowing every part of you, every fear, every reaction, every caress.”
“What are you going to do to us...?”
I lean in with a cruel and playful smile on my lips. I lower my voice suddenly and move closer to Daniela's ear and whisper.
"What am I going to do to you? Oh, Daniela, if only you knew. Actually, I think you do know, or at least you have a very clear idea. I'm going to do something you know very well, something you probably do alone in your room, thinking about the handsome guy on campus, or your favorite singer, or whoever turns you on. I'm going to masturbate you for a long time."
Even though I whisper, I know Brianna heard me too, so before I continue talking, I pause.
"Yes, yes, get ready. Think about it, I'm going to touch you, I'm going to explore those bodies that you're so proud to show off in bikinis on social media, I'm going to find your weak spots, your pleasure buttons, and I'm going to take you to the edge, over and over again, until your minds are a mess. Until you don't know whether you want to cry or scream with pleasure, and best of all, you won't be able to do anything to stop it. You'll just be able to feel it and laugh at yourselves for feeling pleasure given to you by the mother of the girl you harass."
The smile on my face widens as I see the terror and denial in Daniela's eyes. It's exactly the reaction I expected; panic is the first step in breaking someone like her.
But then, her expression changes. The terror turns into a kind of fierce desperation, a protective instinct that even I didn't expect to surface so soon.
“No!” she screams, her voice breaking. “Do whatever you want with me, but not with her!”
I pause, looking at her with genuine curiosity. “Oh, really? And why not? I thought you guys liked to share everything.”
“She... she's not like me,” Daniela whispers, and I see tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes. “She's still a virgin!”
The word hangs in the air of the room, heavy and delicious, “virgin.” My smile grows even wider, this time out of pure and absolute euphoria. I hadn't planned this, I hadn't counted on something like this, I honestly thought that both of them were no longer virgins.
“Virgin,” I repeat, savoring the word as if it were the finest wine. “Brianna Marquez is a virgin? Really? What a gem, haha, what a precious gem I've just discovered.”
I kneel next to Brianna's stretcher, which is shaking uncontrollably, her eyes filled with silent tears. I run my hand through her hair, brushing it away from her forehead. She has the face of a frightened angel.
“Dani, you don't know what a gift you've just given me,” I continue, without taking my eyes off the youngest one. "This is much better than I imagined. It's not just a punishment now, it's an initiation... I'm going to be the first to show her what pleasure is, me, and not some clumsy guy from her university who will only think about himself. I'm going to teach your little sister how it feels, how to have an orgasm, how to lose her mind. It will be an educational moment for both of us."
“Please, no! I beg you, don't do anything to her!” Daniela pleads, pulling at her bonds with new, desperate strength. “It's humiliating... it's... it's horrible.”
“Exactly,” I say, my voice pure honey and venom. "It's horrible and humiliating, and now you know a little bit of what my daughter feels every day when you look at her with contempt. But don't worry, Daniela, you won't miss the show. You'll have a front-row seat. You'll see every expression, hear every moan. And in the meantime, I'll be with you too, giving you your own ‘treatment,’ so yes, you'll share this too, together, as always."
“No!” says Daniela, her voice now firm, sharp, filled with desperate rage. “It's not the same!”
I turn slowly toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Explain it to me, I'm all ears.”
“Teasing your daughter is one thing, it's stupid, it's teenage stuff... but this... Forcing an orgasm, violating her body like that... that's something completely different! You can't compare it!”
“How interesting,” I say, approaching his stretcher. “So, according to you, there's a scale of evil, bullying is okay, it's at the ‘stupid’ level, but what I'm planning... that's at the ‘rape’ level, thanks for clarifying that. It helps me put my priorities in order.”
“I'm not saying it's okay,” he corrects, his breathing heavy. “I'm saying that what we're doing to your daughter doesn't justify what you're going to do to my sister.”
"I see, the guilty party's logic, 'what I did wasn't as bad as what you're going to do.' It's fascinating, really, but it won't change anything. The debt is paid with the currency I choose, and my currency today is forced pleasure."
“No! It's not fair!”
“Fair?” I laugh, a low, joyless sound. "You're talking to me about fairness, Daniela Marquez? The girl who spends her life trampling on others. How brave. You know what, I'm going to give you a choice, a moment of control in the midst of all this chaos. I'm going to let you decide."
She looks at me, confused, not understanding.
"I'm going to make one of you cum, and I'm not going to stop until one of you has an orgasm, here, in front of the other. You decide who goes first, Dani. Who will be the lucky one? Your sister, the innocent virgin? Or you, the one who wants to protect her? You choose."
I stare at her. Her mouth opens slightly, but no sound comes out. She's processing. The nightmare of having to choose.
“Do you understand the question, Daniela?” I insist, my voice soft, almost maternal. “Brianna or you? Who gets my attention first? Give me a name, just one name.”
Her eyes dart from me to her sister and back to me. I see the frantic calculation in her head. The sacrifice.
“I... I can't...”
“Oh, of course you can and must. Because if you don't choose, I will, and I promise you I won't be so... kind. So, again. Who starts? Brianna? Or you?”
I look at her, waiting. The silence is thick, heavy. Her chest rises and falls rapidly.
"Come on, Daniela, don't be shy, it's a simple decision. The virgin or the experienced one? Your sister or you? Who cums first? Tell me, choose now."
I keep looking at her, giving her time. The power of the question is paralyzing her. It's torture in itself.
I keep asking her, over and over, a low, constant mantra that corners her.
“Who, Daniela? Tell me a name, choose. Brianna or Daniela? Who starts? Who? Who? Who?”
My question hangs in the air, an echo drowned out by the tense silence in the room. Daniela doesn't answer, her gaze lost, fixed on the ceiling, as if her mind had fled her body, leaving it behind like an empty shell. Her chest rises and falls, but her face is a mask of stone.
“I see you've decided not to decide,” I say, my voice losing all its previous warmth. “A brave but stupid tactic. You thought that if you didn't say anything, the problem would go away. That this was a movie where the villain monologues until the rescue arrives. No, Daniela, this isn't a movie. I don't get tired.”
I get up slowly and walk over to a small dark wooden table in the corner of the room. I open the top drawer, and among the clean towels and oils, I find what I'm looking for...
I take it out. It's a cordless vibrator, bubblegum pink, smooth and ergonomic, perfect for a first encounter. I return to the stretchers, holding it in my hand like a scepter.
Daniela sees me, her eyes, previously empty, now filled with a new panic, a sharp and real panic. She sees the object in my hand and finally understands that I wasn't playing. My patience has run out.
“Last chance,” I say, but it's no longer a question, it's a sentence. “Who?”
She remains silent, her jaw clenched, defiant to the end.
“So be it,” I whisper.
I kneel next to her stretcher. With my free hand, I pull her lips apart, exposing her completely. It's dry with fear, but not for long. I bring the vibrator close to her sex. With my thumb, I press the button at the base.
A low, powerful hum fills the room, an electric, voracious sound. The vibrator comes to life in my hand, trembling with energy waiting to be released.
I lower it slowly, millimeter by millimeter, the pink plastic tip approaching her clitoris, which retracts in pure anticipatory terror. Daniela holds her breath, her whole body tensing, waiting for the impact.
The tip is one centimeter away. Half a centimeter. I can feel the heat emanating from her skin. One more second and...
“NO!!”
The scream is heart-wrenching, primal. It's not a word, it's an animal sound of pure terror.
“HER!! HER FIRST!” she screams, the words coming out in a rush, one on top of the other, desperate. “Do it to her! Please, not me! Brianna! Choose Brianna!”
I pause, the tip of the vibrator a hair's breadth from touching her...
“Excuse me? I didn't hear you right,” I lie, with a triumphant smile. “It seems you've just made a decision. Could you repeat it so there's no doubt?”
Her eyes fill with tears of humiliation, but this time they speak. “Do it... do it to her,” she whispers, defeated. “To Brianna, start with my sister... me... me not.”
“Ah,” I say, turning off the vibrator. The sudden silence is almost as deafening as the buzzing. “So you could talk after all. Too bad you didn't do it sooner. You could have spared yourself this moment.”
I kneel beside Brianna's stretcher. She's shaking uncontrollably, her eyes filled with silent panic. I run my hand through her hair, brushing it away from her forehead. She has the face of a frightened angel.
“Thank you for your sacrifice, Daniela,” I say without looking at her. “You see, this is the first lesson: when things get tough, people look out for themselves, even those they love most. Welcome to the real world.”
Daniela's gaze is like ice piercing through me, but I don't care. Her silence is her consent. My attention is completely focused on the trembling figure in front of me. Brianna is mine, all mine.
“Come on, my girl,” I whisper, my voice a poisonous caress. “Your sister has decided that you will be the first. An honor, don't you think? Being the center of attention, just like you like it.”
I pick up the cordless vibrator, its pink plastic gleaming in the dim light of the room. With my thumb, I turn it on. The hum is low, deep, a sonic promise filling the air. Brianna instinctively recoils, her body pressing against the table as if she could sink into it and escape.
“Don't run away,” I order, but my voice remains soft. “This is happening whether you like it or not.”
With one hand, I gently part her lips. She is dry, contracted with fear, but I don't care. I bring the head of the vibrator closer, not to her entrance, but directly to her clitoris, which is still retracted, hidden.
The first contact is electric.
Brianna lets out a high-pitched sound, like a frightened cat, a muffled scream that gets stuck in her throat. Her entire body tenses up in a spasm, her back arching so violently that the straps around her ankles and wrists creak under the strain. Her legs instinctively close, but the restraints prevent her, leaving her open and vulnerable.
From the other stretcher, I hear a gasp. Daniela says nothing, just stares, her eyes wide, with a look that kills me.
“See, Daniela?” I say without taking my eyes off Brianna. “Your sister is learning, she's a good girl.”
I keep the vibrator in place, the vibration direct and incessant on that sensitive spot. Brianna's moans become more constant, deeper, no longer just from fear. There is something else there, a confusion, a strange warmth that begins to spread from her crotch, a fire she does not know.
Her body, which had been struggling to escape, begins to change. The arch in her back lessens, but she doesn't relax. She transforms. Her pelvis begins to move, a minimal movement, almost imperceptible at first, a slight lifting of her hips, as if she were seeking... more.
“Yes, that's it,” I encourage her, my voice a sticky whisper. “Don't fight it, let yourself go slowly.”
And the wave rises, her breathing becomes faster, more shallow. Small gasps escape her lips, her hips now rise more clearly, a clumsy and desperate rhythm, seeking the pressure of the vibrator. Her eyes, once filled with panic, are now glassy, unfocused, lost in the storm of sensations that assail her. A slight blush begins to spread across her chest and neck.
“Ah, here we go,” I whisper to myself, feeling the power of being the one to give her her first orgasm....
I slightly increase the intensity of the vibrator, the buzzing becomes a little higher pitched, Brianna's reaction is immediate. A long, tremulous moan escapes her throat, her toes curl, her legs pull at the restraints with a new purpose. Not to escape, but to anchor herself, to have something to push against as the wave builds.
“Jenni... fer...” she manages to articulate, her voice a broken thread of gasps. She doesn't know what she's asking for, for him to stop, for him not to stop... She doesn't understand what's happening to her, she just knows that it's one of the best feelings she's ever had in her life.
And then, I see it... The point of no return, her thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably, her mouth opens slightly in a silent ‘O’ and the tension in her abdomen is palpable. She's about to explode, about to come for the first time in her life, forced by me, in front of her sister.
This is the moment, my moment...
Just as the first spasm of orgasm is about to wash over her, with a cruel and deliberate smile, I remove the vibrator.
The buzzing stops abruptly.
The reaction is devastating.
Brianna is left suspended in the air with her eyes closed, at the highest peak of the wave, waiting for the fall that never comes. Her body, tense as a bow, trembles violently. A second later, a moan of pure, animal frustration escapes her throat. It is not a cry of pain, it is something much worse, it is the sound of paradise snatched away.
Her hips continue to rise, seeking the contact that is no longer there, moving in the empty air, in a desperate thrashing.
I lean toward her, my voice a mocking whisper that only she can hear.
“No, no, my girl. Did you think that was it? That you were going to come so easily? How naive.”
I look her straight in the eyes, which are flooded with tears of confusion.
I leave Brianna trembling, a knot of nerves and frustration on the stretcher. Her breathing is ragged, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, processing the emptiness I have left her with. I have made sure she understands the lesson: pleasure is a privilege, not a right, and I am the one who grants privileges.
Now I turn to Daniela, she looks at me, and her gaze is different. There is hatred, yes, but there is also a calculated challenge, she thinks she has seen through my game, she thinks she knows what is coming. The vibrator, the edge, the denial. She is preparing for it, hardening herself, promising herself that she will not give in.
How wrong she is.
I kneel in front of her, but I don't pick up the vibrator. I leave it on the nightstand, in plain sight, but out of my reach. Her confusion is palpable. I see the question in her eyes. What are you doing?
I lean in, my breath the first thing to touch her. I blow softly on her lips, still closed in fear. A tremor runs through her body, an involuntary response to anticipation.
“No!” she screams, her voice raspy, full of disgust and panic. “Don't touch me! You're disgusting! Don't come near me with that dirty mouth!”
I ignore her words, they're just noise, the only language that matters now is that of her body.
With the tip of my tongue, I trace a long, wet line from the bottom of her vagina, slowly, slowly moving up, passing over her perineum, over the entrance to her sex, which is dry and contracted, and continuing upward, along the cleft between her lips, until I end in a small circle around her clitoris, without touching it yet.
Her body tenses like a bow, a muffled sound, an attempt at a stifled moan, escapes from her throat, but she swallows it immediately. I see her jaw clench, her neck muscles tense in a superhuman effort not to give in.
I do it again, this time more slowly, my tongue wide and flat. I slide it along its entire length, soaking it with my saliva, forcing it to accept my wetness. I feel her lips, out of pure instinct, begin to soften, to yield under my pressure. She is fighting, but the battle is already lost.
I resume, now my mouth closes over her sex, not just my tongue now, my lips surround it, sucking gently, creating a vacuum, a pressure that forces it to swell, to fill with blood. I begin a slow rhythm, a steady pumping, while my tongue dances inside her, exploring, tasting, demanding. A low, hoarse moan escapes this time, not a moan of pleasure, but a moan of surrender. The sound of her own will breaking.
I stop and look at her, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and hatred. She is fighting, but the battle is already lost. Now my tongue focuses on her clitoris, no longer circling it, attacking it directly, quick, hard, precise strokes. One side and then the other, up and down, then slow, wide circles that get smaller and smaller, faster and faster, concentrating all the stimulation on that one spot.
Her hips move, no longer trying to escape, rising up, pushing against my mouth, seeking more, seeking the pressure she needs to explode. Her hands, which were clenched into fists before, are now open, her fingers spread, trembling.
I insert two fingers inside her, she is incredibly wet... a hot, thick wetness that has nothing to do with my saliva. I find it easily, that rough spot at the front, and I press, massaging in sync with my tongue.
The effect is devastating, her back arches for real, not from spasm, but from pure pleasure. A long, uncontrolled moan escapes her lips, followed by another, and another. She no longer tries to be quiet; she can't.
I feel her getting close, I feel it in the way her vaginal muscles contract around my fingers, in the way her breathing becomes short and ragged, in the uncontrollable trembling of her thighs. I'm about to stop, that was the plan, to leave her here, like her sister, with a denied orgasm, that was the initial plan.
But then I look at her face, her head thrown back, her mouth open, her eyes closed. There is no defiance now, no hatred, just a raw and desperate need, and in that moment, a wave of fierce excitement washes over me.
Seeing her like this, completely disarmed, broken by my mouth, by my fingers... it's the most absolute power I've ever felt, and my own body, betraying me too, responds with a desire so intense that it hurts.
And I give in.
Instead of stopping, I increase the speed and pressure, my tongue becomes a whip on her clitoris, my fingers rub her mercilessly. I push her over the edge.
And she comes.
It's not a scream, it's a choking sound. Her whole body convulses, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. Her legs close tightly around my head, trapping me, as a violent spasm shakes her pelvis. I feel a stream of warm liquid flood my mouth and chin. It's not an orgasm, it's a flood, it's total and absolute surrender.
I keep my mouth in place, drinking her, licking her, prolonging her ecstasy until her body relaxes completely, falling back onto the table, spent, without a single drop of energy left. Her legs loosen and release me.
I get up slowly, my face wet from her. I wipe myself with the back of my hand, looking at her lying there, defeated, satisfied, humiliated. It wasn't my plan, I gave her what she wanted and that somehow terrifies me more than if I had kept my promise. For a moment, I lost control and that is a mistake I cannot afford to make. I need to reaffirm my power in a different way....
The moment has come.
My heart is pounding, my hands are shaking. First, I go to Brianna, carefully turning her over on the table so she is lying on her back. Her body is just as I imagined, underdeveloped, almost like a high school teenager. Her hips are narrow, her breasts are small, almost non-existent. On the side table, I have what I prepared earlier, four strips of sturdy fabric with buckles, like those on seat belts, but longer.
I take her right wrist, lift it gently, and pass the strip through the opening in the stretcher, tying it tightly. I do the same with her left wrist, then her ankles, one by one, until she is completely immobilized in an X shape, her legs spread open revealing her slightly shaved pussy and her arms exposed, leaving her armpits fully visible. Now the little devil is at my mercy.
Now I turn to Daniela, my breath catches, my body tense, I also turn her carefully, leaving her face up. I slowly remove her towel, as if unwrapping a gift. Her body takes my breath away, even though she has impressive breasts, larger than mine, which are a B cup, she also has pale pink nipples, erect from the cool air in the room. Her waist narrows to give way to excitingly curved hips. Her legs are fleshy, long, and perfectly toned, with a nice butt and thighs. And her vagina... it's completely shaved, with soft lips and a pink tone that makes me immediately wet between my legs, which tickles me.
But before I lose myself in desire, I must secure my prey. I take the other two strips of fabric and grab her right wrist, her skin soft and warm. I pass it through the buckle and tighten it, not so much as to hurt her, but enough so that she cannot defend herself from the tickling I will do on her armpits. I do the same with her left wrist and then move to the foot of the stretcher. Her ankles are delicate, strong, I tie them one by one, extending her legs until she is in the same vulnerable position as her sister.
Now I have my daughter's bullies completely vulnerable and all to myself...
I kneel between the stretchers and look at Daniela's body, exposed and perfect, which provokes an overwhelming urge in me, not only for control, but also for adoration. I want to touch her, I want to feel her, I want to taste her. My hands, almost of their own accord, reach out and caress her belly; her skin is soft and warm. My fingers slowly move up to her breasts and caress them, feeling their softness.
I gently squeeze her pink nipples between my fingers and they harden even more, which makes me massage each nipple with my thumbs and index fingers. Part of me feels guilty, but the excitement is much stronger.
I lean in, unable to resist. She was the woman who made my girl cry, but she is so sexually attractive. My lips find her skin, and I give her a soft kiss on her stomach, just above her navel, taking the opportunity to smell her skin, which has a scent that reminds me of vanilla. My kisses become bolder, a trail of kisses descending from between her breasts, passing over her belly, until I reach the edge of her most feminine side.
My breathing becomes heavy, I feel that knot that many people experience when they have to give a presentation at school, that same knot I feel, which also gives me a slight tingling sensation all down my spine, I would describe it as little spiders crawling down my back. My fingers slide over her labia, they are wet, I run my index finger over them, feeling their shape, the warmth that emanates from them.
I lean closer, my tongue peeks out and traces a slow, deliberate line along her lips. The taste is intense, it tastes like Daniela. I part them with my fingers and my tongue finds her clitoris, small and already erect, and I give it a long, slow lick. A moan escapes my lips, a purely instinctive sound. I do it again, over and over, losing myself in the moment, in the power of having her like this, at my mercy, while she sleeps. It's my fantasy come true, added to the fact that I haven't had sex with anyone in two years.
After a moment, I force myself to stop. I didn't want to come there. I had to resist. There's still work to be done. However, I can't deny that even asleep, Daniela is capable of making me come...
I get up and go to Brianna. Her breasts are flat, with small, pink nipples. I play with them, pinching them gently, and then I look down and notice that her pubic hair isn't well shaved; it's growing unevenly. An idea, a whim, crosses my mind. I go to the bathroom and come back with a razor and shaving cream. Carefully, I shave her until she's completely smooth, like Daniela.
Once that's done, I sit on the stool between the two beds and wait. Half an hour later, I hear a moan. Brianna moves her head, her eyes slowly opening, confused.
“What...?”
Then, on the other side, Daniela also begins to wake up. She stretches, but the restraints prevent her from moving. Her eyes widen when she realizes she cannot move.
“What the hell?” she says, her voice hoarse from sleep, looking at her body, tied to the stretcher. Then she looks at her sister, in the same situation, and when she wants to look around, she looks at me, sitting quietly between them, in my black robe on a bench I placed between the two beds, with my legs crossed. Panic begins to invade her face.
“What are you doing?! Let us go! Let us go right now! You're getting yourself into trouble!”
Brianna is now fully awake, the terror in her eyes palpable. She says nothing, just looks at her sister, waiting for her to deal with the situation.
“Help! Help!” Daniela screams at the top of her lungs.
Her screams are lost in the room; the walls are soundproofed for this purpose. You can hear from the outside in, but not from the inside out.
“What... what do you want? Who the hell are you?”
"Who am I? Good question... The real question is, who are you two? Do you recognize yourselves? Look at yourselves. So vulnerable. Do you feel powerful now, huh, Dani?"
“What are you talking about? Let us go! You don't know who we are! You're crazy! Do you want money? I'll give you all you want!”
“Anyone I want? Hmm, what a tempting offer. But what can you two give me that I can't get myself? You have money, yes, but money is boring. I want something more fun. Do you know what's fun? Playing a game, a guessing game.”
“A game? You're crazy.”
“Maybe, but it's my game... Here's the first question, for you, Daniela, the oldest. What name comes to mind when you think of a short girl with brown hair, fair skin, glasses, who loves books, the most studious in the class?”
“What...? I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Let us go.”
“Wow, wrong answer. Try again. Think hard, a girl you and your friends call have been bullying her whole fucking life, one you push around in the hallways. Does that ring a bell now?”
Daniela's face falls. Panic turns to understanding. “No... it can't be.
“Bingo! You got it right. My name is Jennifer and I am Angela Maxwell's mother.”
“Oh, my God... please...”
“Please what, Daniela? Please forgive me? Please forget? Didn't Angela ask you to please stop when you were making fun of her? Didn't she ask you to please stop when you were making her life hell?”
“We're sorry... we're really sorry, it won't happen again.”
“You, little Brianna. Do you feel it too? Or are you just following your sister around like a lapdog?”
Brianna sobs, speechless, shaking her head.
“How sweet... that touches me. But words are cheap, apologies are empty. I'm not here for empty words, I'm here for justice, a more... intimate justice. Do you know what intimacy is, girls? It's being close, very close, knowing every part of you, every fear, every reaction, every caress.”
“What are you going to do to us...?”
I lean in with a cruel and playful smile on my lips. I lower my voice suddenly and move closer to Daniela's ear and whisper.
"What am I going to do to you? Oh, Daniela, if only you knew. Actually, I think you do know, or at least you have a very clear idea. I'm going to do something you know very well, something you probably do alone in your room, thinking about the handsome guy on campus, or your favorite singer, or whoever turns you on. I'm going to masturbate you for a long time."
Even though I whisper, I know Brianna heard me too, so before I continue talking, I pause.
"Yes, yes, get ready. Think about it, I'm going to touch you, I'm going to explore those bodies that you're so proud to show off in bikinis on social media, I'm going to find your weak spots, your pleasure buttons, and I'm going to take you to the edge, over and over again, until your minds are a mess. Until you don't know whether you want to cry or scream with pleasure, and best of all, you won't be able to do anything to stop it. You'll just be able to feel it and laugh at yourselves for feeling pleasure given to you by the mother of the girl you harass."
The smile on my face widens as I see the terror and denial in Daniela's eyes. It's exactly the reaction I expected; panic is the first step in breaking someone like her.
But then, her expression changes. The terror turns into a kind of fierce desperation, a protective instinct that even I didn't expect to surface so soon.
“No!” she screams, her voice breaking. “Do whatever you want with me, but not with her!”
I pause, looking at her with genuine curiosity. “Oh, really? And why not? I thought you guys liked to share everything.”
“She... she's not like me,” Daniela whispers, and I see tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes. “She's still a virgin!”
The word hangs in the air of the room, heavy and delicious, “virgin.” My smile grows even wider, this time out of pure and absolute euphoria. I hadn't planned this, I hadn't counted on something like this, I honestly thought that both of them were no longer virgins.
“Virgin,” I repeat, savoring the word as if it were the finest wine. “Brianna Marquez is a virgin? Really? What a gem, haha, what a precious gem I've just discovered.”
I kneel next to Brianna's stretcher, which is shaking uncontrollably, her eyes filled with silent tears. I run my hand through her hair, brushing it away from her forehead. She has the face of a frightened angel.
“Dani, you don't know what a gift you've just given me,” I continue, without taking my eyes off the youngest one. "This is much better than I imagined. It's not just a punishment now, it's an initiation... I'm going to be the first to show her what pleasure is, me, and not some clumsy guy from her university who will only think about himself. I'm going to teach your little sister how it feels, how to have an orgasm, how to lose her mind. It will be an educational moment for both of us."
“Please, no! I beg you, don't do anything to her!” Daniela pleads, pulling at her bonds with new, desperate strength. “It's humiliating... it's... it's horrible.”
“Exactly,” I say, my voice pure honey and venom. "It's horrible and humiliating, and now you know a little bit of what my daughter feels every day when you look at her with contempt. But don't worry, Daniela, you won't miss the show. You'll have a front-row seat. You'll see every expression, hear every moan. And in the meantime, I'll be with you too, giving you your own ‘treatment,’ so yes, you'll share this too, together, as always."
“No!” says Daniela, her voice now firm, sharp, filled with desperate rage. “It's not the same!”
I turn slowly toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Explain it to me, I'm all ears.”
“Teasing your daughter is one thing, it's stupid, it's teenage stuff... but this... Forcing an orgasm, violating her body like that... that's something completely different! You can't compare it!”
“How interesting,” I say, approaching his stretcher. “So, according to you, there's a scale of evil, bullying is okay, it's at the ‘stupid’ level, but what I'm planning... that's at the ‘rape’ level, thanks for clarifying that. It helps me put my priorities in order.”
“I'm not saying it's okay,” he corrects, his breathing heavy. “I'm saying that what we're doing to your daughter doesn't justify what you're going to do to my sister.”
"I see, the guilty party's logic, 'what I did wasn't as bad as what you're going to do.' It's fascinating, really, but it won't change anything. The debt is paid with the currency I choose, and my currency today is forced pleasure."
“No! It's not fair!”
“Fair?” I laugh, a low, joyless sound. "You're talking to me about fairness, Daniela Marquez? The girl who spends her life trampling on others. How brave. You know what, I'm going to give you a choice, a moment of control in the midst of all this chaos. I'm going to let you decide."
She looks at me, confused, not understanding.
"I'm going to make one of you cum, and I'm not going to stop until one of you has an orgasm, here, in front of the other. You decide who goes first, Dani. Who will be the lucky one? Your sister, the innocent virgin? Or you, the one who wants to protect her? You choose."
I stare at her. Her mouth opens slightly, but no sound comes out. She's processing. The nightmare of having to choose.
“Do you understand the question, Daniela?” I insist, my voice soft, almost maternal. “Brianna or you? Who gets my attention first? Give me a name, just one name.”
Her eyes dart from me to her sister and back to me. I see the frantic calculation in her head. The sacrifice.
“I... I can't...”
“Oh, of course you can and must. Because if you don't choose, I will, and I promise you I won't be so... kind. So, again. Who starts? Brianna? Or you?”
I look at her, waiting. The silence is thick, heavy. Her chest rises and falls rapidly.
"Come on, Daniela, don't be shy, it's a simple decision. The virgin or the experienced one? Your sister or you? Who cums first? Tell me, choose now."
I keep looking at her, giving her time. The power of the question is paralyzing her. It's torture in itself.
I keep asking her, over and over, a low, constant mantra that corners her.
“Who, Daniela? Tell me a name, choose. Brianna or Daniela? Who starts? Who? Who? Who?”
My question hangs in the air, an echo drowned out by the tense silence in the room. Daniela doesn't answer, her gaze lost, fixed on the ceiling, as if her mind had fled her body, leaving it behind like an empty shell. Her chest rises and falls, but her face is a mask of stone.
“I see you've decided not to decide,” I say, my voice losing all its previous warmth. “A brave but stupid tactic. You thought that if you didn't say anything, the problem would go away. That this was a movie where the villain monologues until the rescue arrives. No, Daniela, this isn't a movie. I don't get tired.”
I get up slowly and walk over to a small dark wooden table in the corner of the room. I open the top drawer, and among the clean towels and oils, I find what I'm looking for...
I take it out. It's a cordless vibrator, bubblegum pink, smooth and ergonomic, perfect for a first encounter. I return to the stretchers, holding it in my hand like a scepter.
Daniela sees me, her eyes, previously empty, now filled with a new panic, a sharp and real panic. She sees the object in my hand and finally understands that I wasn't playing. My patience has run out.
“Last chance,” I say, but it's no longer a question, it's a sentence. “Who?”
She remains silent, her jaw clenched, defiant to the end.
“So be it,” I whisper.
I kneel next to her stretcher. With my free hand, I pull her lips apart, exposing her completely. It's dry with fear, but not for long. I bring the vibrator close to her sex. With my thumb, I press the button at the base.
A low, powerful hum fills the room, an electric, voracious sound. The vibrator comes to life in my hand, trembling with energy waiting to be released.
I lower it slowly, millimeter by millimeter, the pink plastic tip approaching her clitoris, which retracts in pure anticipatory terror. Daniela holds her breath, her whole body tensing, waiting for the impact.
The tip is one centimeter away. Half a centimeter. I can feel the heat emanating from her skin. One more second and...
“NO!!”
The scream is heart-wrenching, primal. It's not a word, it's an animal sound of pure terror.
“HER!! HER FIRST!” she screams, the words coming out in a rush, one on top of the other, desperate. “Do it to her! Please, not me! Brianna! Choose Brianna!”
I pause, the tip of the vibrator a hair's breadth from touching her...
“Excuse me? I didn't hear you right,” I lie, with a triumphant smile. “It seems you've just made a decision. Could you repeat it so there's no doubt?”
Her eyes fill with tears of humiliation, but this time they speak. “Do it... do it to her,” she whispers, defeated. “To Brianna, start with my sister... me... me not.”
“Ah,” I say, turning off the vibrator. The sudden silence is almost as deafening as the buzzing. “So you could talk after all. Too bad you didn't do it sooner. You could have spared yourself this moment.”
I kneel beside Brianna's stretcher. She's shaking uncontrollably, her eyes filled with silent panic. I run my hand through her hair, brushing it away from her forehead. She has the face of a frightened angel.
“Thank you for your sacrifice, Daniela,” I say without looking at her. “You see, this is the first lesson: when things get tough, people look out for themselves, even those they love most. Welcome to the real world.”
Daniela's gaze is like ice piercing through me, but I don't care. Her silence is her consent. My attention is completely focused on the trembling figure in front of me. Brianna is mine, all mine.
“Come on, my girl,” I whisper, my voice a poisonous caress. “Your sister has decided that you will be the first. An honor, don't you think? Being the center of attention, just like you like it.”
I pick up the cordless vibrator, its pink plastic gleaming in the dim light of the room. With my thumb, I turn it on. The hum is low, deep, a sonic promise filling the air. Brianna instinctively recoils, her body pressing against the table as if she could sink into it and escape.
“Don't run away,” I order, but my voice remains soft. “This is happening whether you like it or not.”
With one hand, I gently part her lips. She is dry, contracted with fear, but I don't care. I bring the head of the vibrator closer, not to her entrance, but directly to her clitoris, which is still retracted, hidden.
The first contact is electric.
Brianna lets out a high-pitched sound, like a frightened cat, a muffled scream that gets stuck in her throat. Her entire body tenses up in a spasm, her back arching so violently that the straps around her ankles and wrists creak under the strain. Her legs instinctively close, but the restraints prevent her, leaving her open and vulnerable.
From the other stretcher, I hear a gasp. Daniela says nothing, just stares, her eyes wide, with a look that kills me.
“See, Daniela?” I say without taking my eyes off Brianna. “Your sister is learning, she's a good girl.”
I keep the vibrator in place, the vibration direct and incessant on that sensitive spot. Brianna's moans become more constant, deeper, no longer just from fear. There is something else there, a confusion, a strange warmth that begins to spread from her crotch, a fire she does not know.
Her body, which had been struggling to escape, begins to change. The arch in her back lessens, but she doesn't relax. She transforms. Her pelvis begins to move, a minimal movement, almost imperceptible at first, a slight lifting of her hips, as if she were seeking... more.
“Yes, that's it,” I encourage her, my voice a sticky whisper. “Don't fight it, let yourself go slowly.”
And the wave rises, her breathing becomes faster, more shallow. Small gasps escape her lips, her hips now rise more clearly, a clumsy and desperate rhythm, seeking the pressure of the vibrator. Her eyes, once filled with panic, are now glassy, unfocused, lost in the storm of sensations that assail her. A slight blush begins to spread across her chest and neck.
“Ah, here we go,” I whisper to myself, feeling the power of being the one to give her her first orgasm....
I slightly increase the intensity of the vibrator, the buzzing becomes a little higher pitched, Brianna's reaction is immediate. A long, tremulous moan escapes her throat, her toes curl, her legs pull at the restraints with a new purpose. Not to escape, but to anchor herself, to have something to push against as the wave builds.
“Jenni... fer...” she manages to articulate, her voice a broken thread of gasps. She doesn't know what she's asking for, for him to stop, for him not to stop... She doesn't understand what's happening to her, she just knows that it's one of the best feelings she's ever had in her life.
And then, I see it... The point of no return, her thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably, her mouth opens slightly in a silent ‘O’ and the tension in her abdomen is palpable. She's about to explode, about to come for the first time in her life, forced by me, in front of her sister.
This is the moment, my moment...
Just as the first spasm of orgasm is about to wash over her, with a cruel and deliberate smile, I remove the vibrator.
The buzzing stops abruptly.
The reaction is devastating.
Brianna is left suspended in the air with her eyes closed, at the highest peak of the wave, waiting for the fall that never comes. Her body, tense as a bow, trembles violently. A second later, a moan of pure, animal frustration escapes her throat. It is not a cry of pain, it is something much worse, it is the sound of paradise snatched away.
Her hips continue to rise, seeking the contact that is no longer there, moving in the empty air, in a desperate thrashing.
I lean toward her, my voice a mocking whisper that only she can hear.
“No, no, my girl. Did you think that was it? That you were going to come so easily? How naive.”
I look her straight in the eyes, which are flooded with tears of confusion.
I leave Brianna trembling, a knot of nerves and frustration on the stretcher. Her breathing is ragged, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, processing the emptiness I have left her with. I have made sure she understands the lesson: pleasure is a privilege, not a right, and I am the one who grants privileges.
Now I turn to Daniela, she looks at me, and her gaze is different. There is hatred, yes, but there is also a calculated challenge, she thinks she has seen through my game, she thinks she knows what is coming. The vibrator, the edge, the denial. She is preparing for it, hardening herself, promising herself that she will not give in.
How wrong she is.
I kneel in front of her, but I don't pick up the vibrator. I leave it on the nightstand, in plain sight, but out of my reach. Her confusion is palpable. I see the question in her eyes. What are you doing?
I lean in, my breath the first thing to touch her. I blow softly on her lips, still closed in fear. A tremor runs through her body, an involuntary response to anticipation.
“No!” she screams, her voice raspy, full of disgust and panic. “Don't touch me! You're disgusting! Don't come near me with that dirty mouth!”
I ignore her words, they're just noise, the only language that matters now is that of her body.
With the tip of my tongue, I trace a long, wet line from the bottom of her vagina, slowly, slowly moving up, passing over her perineum, over the entrance to her sex, which is dry and contracted, and continuing upward, along the cleft between her lips, until I end in a small circle around her clitoris, without touching it yet.
Her body tenses like a bow, a muffled sound, an attempt at a stifled moan, escapes from her throat, but she swallows it immediately. I see her jaw clench, her neck muscles tense in a superhuman effort not to give in.
I do it again, this time more slowly, my tongue wide and flat. I slide it along its entire length, soaking it with my saliva, forcing it to accept my wetness. I feel her lips, out of pure instinct, begin to soften, to yield under my pressure. She is fighting, but the battle is already lost.
I resume, now my mouth closes over her sex, not just my tongue now, my lips surround it, sucking gently, creating a vacuum, a pressure that forces it to swell, to fill with blood. I begin a slow rhythm, a steady pumping, while my tongue dances inside her, exploring, tasting, demanding. A low, hoarse moan escapes this time, not a moan of pleasure, but a moan of surrender. The sound of her own will breaking.
I stop and look at her, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and hatred. She is fighting, but the battle is already lost. Now my tongue focuses on her clitoris, no longer circling it, attacking it directly, quick, hard, precise strokes. One side and then the other, up and down, then slow, wide circles that get smaller and smaller, faster and faster, concentrating all the stimulation on that one spot.
Her hips move, no longer trying to escape, rising up, pushing against my mouth, seeking more, seeking the pressure she needs to explode. Her hands, which were clenched into fists before, are now open, her fingers spread, trembling.
I insert two fingers inside her, she is incredibly wet... a hot, thick wetness that has nothing to do with my saliva. I find it easily, that rough spot at the front, and I press, massaging in sync with my tongue.
The effect is devastating, her back arches for real, not from spasm, but from pure pleasure. A long, uncontrolled moan escapes her lips, followed by another, and another. She no longer tries to be quiet; she can't.
I feel her getting close, I feel it in the way her vaginal muscles contract around my fingers, in the way her breathing becomes short and ragged, in the uncontrollable trembling of her thighs. I'm about to stop, that was the plan, to leave her here, like her sister, with a denied orgasm, that was the initial plan.
But then I look at her face, her head thrown back, her mouth open, her eyes closed. There is no defiance now, no hatred, just a raw and desperate need, and in that moment, a wave of fierce excitement washes over me.
Seeing her like this, completely disarmed, broken by my mouth, by my fingers... it's the most absolute power I've ever felt, and my own body, betraying me too, responds with a desire so intense that it hurts.
And I give in.
Instead of stopping, I increase the speed and pressure, my tongue becomes a whip on her clitoris, my fingers rub her mercilessly. I push her over the edge.
And she comes.
It's not a scream, it's a choking sound. Her whole body convulses, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. Her legs close tightly around my head, trapping me, as a violent spasm shakes her pelvis. I feel a stream of warm liquid flood my mouth and chin. It's not an orgasm, it's a flood, it's total and absolute surrender.
I keep my mouth in place, drinking her, licking her, prolonging her ecstasy until her body relaxes completely, falling back onto the table, spent, without a single drop of energy left. Her legs loosen and release me.
I get up slowly, my face wet from her. I wipe myself with the back of my hand, looking at her lying there, defeated, satisfied, humiliated. It wasn't my plan, I gave her what she wanted and that somehow terrifies me more than if I had kept my promise. For a moment, I lost control and that is a mistake I cannot afford to make. I need to reaffirm my power in a different way....
