Warning: This chapter contains a brief reference to sexual violence, including rape. It is not explicit, and it is only presented as a recalled fragment of memory central to the protagonist's identity. Reader discretion is advised.
 

---

 
Your Choices Tonight:
Option A: November 14th
The air is thick with sweat, exhaustion, and the lingering threat of 'something' being orchestrated. Are there consequences to the games being played?
 
Option B: December 7th
The door is about to open, and they won't find the Sissy waiting. This is an identity forged in fire to contain deep trauma. Is her family ready to accept the woman who has emerged?

---

Chapter 1

November 14th 2025: 11.00 PM
The home of the Millers

A stupid bet had brought us there, but the booze definitely made everything worse.

We were at Eli and Cass's place, on their way-too-soft couch. The garden lights were licking at the floor-to-ceiling windows like dirty old voyeurs, and the playlist had wandered from nineties R&B into drum and bass.

The place reeked... but in a good way.

Like lime wedges after last call, scorched sugar, and candles with names like ‘Urban Solstice'. As if good old-fashioned vanilla had been taken out back and shot for not being aspirational enough.

It was just us. Four bodies. One room. Infinite possibilities for disaster.

Dear old Cass was currently the epicentre of the carnage.

She was on all fours across the ottoman, skirts rucked up. The little bar-wench costume from the previous bet bunched around her waist like a discarded wrapper. At some point during the last flurry of swats, the bustier had surrendered.

The laces dragged half-loose; the top splayed open to her hips. Her breasts hung free beneath her. Full, heavy, and moving with every sharp breath she greedily snatched from the air.

Her ruffled skirt that had looked flirty an hour ago now served no purpose, wrapped around the damage. Her ass was a lit canvas. Hot pink and handprinted with her husband’s darker impulses.

Cass was small, technically. But nothing about her chest or that phenomenal ass fit the word once unleashed.

But she carried dangerous curves on a frame that had no business holding it. That ass was a heavy, inviting shelf, trembling with the aftershocks of impact, but her breasts... Christ. They were lush. Ripe with a spilling weight that any man or most women would willingly carry.

And those nipples. Motherfucker!

Obscene in their beauty. Dark, and hungry nerve endings that looked ready to explode if teeth so much as grazed them. Those puppies came with a gravitational pull that dragged the eye… and the soul straight into the gutter.

They were a threat to civility. Shaped to make a self-controlled man regress into a more primal state. They were the kind of poison you wanted to pull into your mouth and suffocate on.

Until the room, the rules, and the mortgage rates dissolved into nothing.

Even with my wife Zara, bright and sharp like a diamond cutter beside me, Cass's body shouted to a biological need so strong it could shatter every virtue holding me in place. 'Breed me. '

Eli's hand cracked down one more time to extract the exact result he intended.

"Fuck," Cass yelped into the cushion and broke into breathless laughter. She slapped the ottoman frantically.

"Last call," she choked out, voice wet and trembling. "Daddy, please... last call."

The way she said it, though, made the safe words feel anything but safe. Her voice came out tuned to some depraved frequency that seemed designed to bypass reason. It went straight past my ears and settled low in my spine.

A part of me I didn't like admitting existed. That lizard–brain wiring, usually so well-hidden behind my suit and tie, was raging now. My hard-on pressed brutally against my jeans, giving me an insistent ache now. The denim was feeling less like fabric and more like sandpaper against the painful swell.

I tried to adjust, but it was useless. My pants scraped right over, and that only made things worse.

Cass whimpered as she shifted, preparing for whatever she intended to do next. "Please," she breathed, half into the cushion, and half into the void.

Beside me, Zara sucked in a breath. Sharp enough to draw blood. Her eyes were locked on Cass’s own for one stolen, scorching second. Even she, the goddess of high-cheekbone elegance, wasn’t immune to this wild, incredible creature.

Zara's hand floated up, almost without thought, as her thumb brushed the outline of her own nipple through the silk. Then, she snapped back to reality and pulled her hand to her lap to focus on the show.

This wasn't just arousal anymore. It felt like punishment by association.

---

 

But of course, things could only escalate now, and so Eli didn’t give her time to recover. He reached for the balm on the side table.

"Up," he commanded. Low. Absolute. "Climb on. Let me fix what I broke."

Cass moved like a puppet with its strings cut. Clumsy, frantic, and driven by a motor that was sputtering out. She didn't just climb onto the couch; she moulted.

She scrambled up, knees sinking deep into the plush velvet between Eli’s sprawled legs. She didn’t face him. She backed in, presenting her scorched rear to his mercy while her now mostly naked front was a stunning, unfiltered show just for us.

And Christ, what a fucking work of art!

With her thighs wide and torso leaning back against her husband’s chest, that velvet maw of a snatch stared us down like a challenge. Even in the dim lights, it glistened an impossible pink.

Pristine and untouched by the savagery wreaked on her backside. It looked unnatural in its perfection, a piece of anatomy that had no business belonging to a suburban wife with a library card.

It belonged to a succubus, or some other mythical creature forged entirely from lust and wet dreams.

Finally, Eli dug his fingers into the tin and dragged a thick, cooling stripe of balm across the arson-red wreck of her rump.

But mercy wasn't on his mind or on the menu.

His other hand wrapped itself around her thigh as it slid towards her slit. He didn't tease. He simply mashed his thumb straight against the hard, swollen knot throbbing there.

The contrast, the ice on the burn and crude friction on the trigger...fried her wiring.

Cass... fuck...she was convulsing now. Her head whipped back into Eli’s shoulder with a wet thud. A jagged scream ripped out of her as her spine snapped into a hard arch. Her breasts thrust outward, but the real damage unravelled below.

Her legs seized, and muscles trembled violently under the strain. Then the dam broke. She soaked the place. A warm, relentless gush that washed over Eli’s lap and instantly ruined the expensive fabric.

It was a sodden disaster that no amount of dry cleaning would ever truly erase.

Cass crumbled. She melted into a damp, heaving mess, slumped against her husband. Her overworked lungs struggling for oxygen, she couldn’t swallow quickly enough.

Eli peered over the curve of her shoulder, ignoring the mess of his jeans to beam at us. That proprietary grin that said, Look what I did.

But it was Zara who unravelled me. My own wife had turned bright red. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps that cut through the room's silence. She sat frozen, perhaps unaware or uncaring that her body had spilt its own secrets.

Her silver silk dress, caught between her clenched thighs, now bore the hints of her own lust as she shifted her hips and it escaped its confines. The heat radiating from her needed no interpretation.

Cass was still slumped backwards, head still resting on Eli’s shoulder. She lay there for a long moment, staring blindly at the ceiling while her pulse tried to remember a slower rhythm. It took a dozen jagged drags of air before she peeled her heavy eyelids open.

Slowly, a little hazily, her chin dropped. She blinked the bliss away, searching the room until her gaze snagged on Zara.

---

 

Zara sat tall, attempting to view the carnage with the regal detachment of a queen inspecting a peasant’s revolt. But cass and their past had gotten to her. The façade was cracking.

What I saw in her eyes and felt between my legs was only the sheer, terrifying courage required to ruin a perfectly good decade of monogamy.

You could see it in her breath trapped against her bronzed chest. A tone that seemed to hold the warmth of a Mumbai sunset, even in this air-conditioned room.

She was a masterpiece. Her father's Indian half blended perfectly with her dead mother’s Scottish Highlands. The result? Streaks of natural chestnut and electric blue eyes that could freeze a man at twenty paces.

Right now, though, those eyes weren’t freezing anything. They were melting.

Cass caught the drift. She always did. She was brilliant, and loyal, but also a bratty isotope of chaos, and seeing Zara’s crumbling defences had triggered her the troll. The pillar was going to fall.

Meanwhile, the bastard Eli kept working the balm into her rump. Long, slow strokes, but Cass, our favourite little shit, wasn’t interested in recovery. She was chasing the high like the creature of pure, kinetic greed that she always was.

Her hands declared war.

Her left hand clawed up, fingers digging into the heavy, white spill of her breast to pinch that dark, furious nipple. Her right hand dove south. It vanished between her thighs as she began to strum herself.

Her eyes were rolling back once again as she caught herself between the balm, the pinching, and her own fingers. A low, guttural keen rose from her throat. Climbing the scale steadily until she snapped her eyes open and found the only thing missing from the equation.

She locked eyes with the queen.

"It... ngh... stings, Z..." Her hips bucked, cutting the words in half as her finger slid deeper.

"I’ve been... oh god... I've been so bad... come... nhh... come hush me up."

The plea landed somewhere between a joke and a pipe bomb.

There it was, calling upon the history we kept polished on the high shelf of our memories.

I could still remember the sticky smell of cheap dorm-room vodka that night. I was back in that narrow uni hallway with Eli and there they were. Cass was a dishevelled riot, dragging a dazed Zara out of a locked room like stolen loot.

She’d caught me staring. Caught the voltage arcing between Zara and me before we’d even spoken. And because Cass never exits a stage without burning it down, she didn’t just introduce us.

She grabbed Zara by the nape and planted a kiss on her that was pure, performative arson. Tongue, teeth, and a wet, smacking sound designed solely to rev the engine for my benefit.

She held it a beat too long, then shoved Zara, breathless and eyes blown, into my chest.

"Right then," she’d smirked, stealing Eli’s beer. "You'll do."

She handed me my future wife as she marched Eli off to play video games.

They had been a supernova that burned out in a semester but stayed the best of friends.

“Turns out, neither of us can sleep at night unless we’ve been stuffed and roasted like a Thanksgiving bird," was what my Zara jokingly told me later.

But looking at them now, Zara tortured by restraint, and Cass splayed out like a ruinous dessert. I realised our marriage hadn't been a denial of this heat.

This moment wasn't an accident; it was a debt coming due. We had all known, beneath the white noise of suburbia, that this day was bound to arrive.

The monogamy, the mortgages, the safe, vanilla dinner parties. None of it was a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth.

The reality was never spoken aloud, but the fact was that Zara and Cass could never belong solely to us. They had carved out pieces of their souls back in that dorm room and handed them to each other for safekeeping.

And strangely, we both felt no fear in that realisation. We knew they would never threaten the love they had built with us. The foundations of our marriages were concrete. This? This was simply the necessary spring cleaning that was long overdue.

Zara went still. Her gaze slid to me, a flash of electric blue cutting through the haze to seek permission. She wasn't asking to burn the rulebook. The fine print, her eyes said. Is it finally time to read it?

I flinched, but I knew that loving Zara meant loving all of her. Even the part that belonged to Cass.

I gave a tiny, hesitant nod.

---

 

Shit.

By the time my rational brain tried to file a motion to dismiss, Zara was already gone. She had flowed off the sofa like a predator who had finally decided the prey was ripe. She crossed the space on slowly, and I could only Gawk. She was stalking her best friend and former fuck-buddy, who was looking like a sacrificial, but very willing offering on that velvet altar.

Eli’s eyes were popping. They were tracking Zara’s movement like a man witnessing a solar eclipse with his naked eyes. He and I both knew exactly what was coming.

Zara stopped beside the ottoman, looming over the carnage. She looked down at the red bloom that was Cass’s arse now, then at the curve of her breasts.

Her throat worked once. A gulp and then, with trembling fingers, she started to peel the silver silk straps off her shoulders.

The dress slithered down, pooling around her waist with no real purpose any more.

The contrast was art. Where Cass was lush and spilling, Zara was proportionate and sculpted. And when the silk fell away, I knew exactly what she had dropped on Eli.

He was seeing the colour theory I’d memorised a decade ago. Against her own warm, caramel skin, Zara’s nipples were shockingly pale. A delicate, rose quartz that seemed almost innocent compared to the dark garnet of Cass’s chest.

A surprise for Eli, sure, but for me? It was a reminder of the hidden weaponry my wife carried every day.

Of course, I stood up.

A tiny part of my brain, the one that filed the taxes and remembered anniversaries, told me to stop this train before it went off the rails. But the rest of me? Pure, unadulterated swine. Husband or not, I was a man, and we were simply pigs with better personal hygiene. I stepped closer. I wanted to watch. I wanted to drown in the smut.

Zara caught the movement. She threw a side-eyed glance over her shoulder, checking my clearance. She was daring me one last time to object before she went for the kill. Eli met my gaze with his trademark grin, while Cass simply ran her eyes over me with that impish glee.

Then, my wife turned back to the altar and bent over.

She didn’t touch at first. She exhaled against Cass’s nipple. Cass let out a sound that was half a sob and all moan. Zara grazed the edge with her mouth. Her question pressed to Cass's flesh.

But then Zara answered it herself when she closed her lips over it.

That was all it took for Cass to lose all language. She let out a strangled cry that clawed through my spine. Her fingers flew up, tangling in Zara’s hair. She intended to hold her there, desperately anchoring herself to her 'bosom' buddy.

"Oh god, Z... please," she babbled. "I missed this... baby, I missed this so much. Just like that... oh god, don't stop... I need this."

"Bloody hell," Eli swore as he tore his eyes away from the spectacle just long enough to find mine. His eyebrows shot up over the curve of his wife’s shaking spine. Of course, we knew it. We always knew.

Cass couldn't wait any longer, though, and the 'sentimentality' of the moment vanished. She twisted to glare at the man hovering behind her.

"Eli," she growled, the sound vibrating low in her throat. "Don't just sit there gaping. Fuck me."

She pulled back, breaking contact with Zara’s mouth against her with a wet, sharp sound.

She scrambled, shifting her weight and twisting her hips until she was parallel to the cushions to clear the runway. She hiked her hips up, presenting the steaming target to him.

He didn't wait for an invitation. He moved off the couch, shifting behind his wife. The rasp of a zipper was followed by the rustle of denim, and that was that. He lined up his hips with that inviting rump, gripped her waist, and slid into her in a single push.

Cass gasped as he filled her, but she needed an anchor. She launched herself forward, dragging Zara by her hair until their mouths met violently. It was nearly two decades of hunger snapping shut as Cass tried to inhale her. Zara’s palms kneaded the tension out of Cass’s back, while Cass’s fingers dug greedily into the soft spill of Zara’s breasts.

It was sensory overload. Cass was impaled by her husband’s brute force while devouring my wife’s mouth. Eli’s jaw was clenched, eyes squeezing shut as he navigated the situation. He managed to move to her rhythm while the women lost themselves in the shared taste of each other.

But my Zara, always in control, wasn't lost in the moment; she was orchestrating her own.

---

 

December 7th 2025 : 11.30 AM
Eden’s Dungeon

Mommy didn't tease. She knew exactly what her sissy needed.

She stepped right between my spread-out legs. Her hands were busy! One hand grabbed my big, pink, throbbing clitty and squeezed it tight! Her other hand though... ooh!

Slide!

She pushed her fingers right into my sissy pussy!

"Oh!" I gasped, even as my head thumped back against the wall.

She was double trouble as she curled her fingers to touch that magic button that made my tummy do flip-flops while Mommy pumped me up and down with her other hand. Rub, rub, press!

I was wiggling against the cuffs. I was totally stuck and totally Mommy's!

"That’s it," Mommy growled, looking so strong. "Give it up."

The bubbles started boiling! Faster and faster! My toes curled inside my ballet flats. I was gonna burst!

"Mommy!" I whined. "I'm gonna—!"

Just as the explosion started, BOOM! Mommy dropped to her knees.

She opened her mouth wide. She didn't just lick the tip. She took my whole clitty inside her throat! Deep!

Gulp!

I shattered! I poured everything I had right down Mommy's throat! My hips bucked against the wall, shaking the chains, feeding her my warm sissy cream. She swallowed it all! Every single drop! She drank me dry while her fingers kept squishing my insides.

When I was finally empty and trembling, Mommy stood up with her shiny lips.

She leaned in close and said, full of love.

"Open," she whispered.

I opened my mouth, and she pressed her lips to mine.

She pushed her tongue into my mouth and shared! She fed my own yummy summy back to me! It tasted salty, and like the love I had for mommy as I swallowed it down with the big, happy gulp.

"Thank you, Mommy," I whispered, feeling so full and floaty.

The Quiet Time

"Good girl," Mommy said, wiping my mouth.

She looked at Mistress and Sir and Miss D. "Time to go. She needs her stillness."

They all nodded. They didn't say goodbye; they just quietly walked out of the Void.

Click. The heavy door shut. The lights were low and red.

I was alone.

I was spread wide on the wall, completely naked, with my wrists locked in.

I should have been scared. Sissies get scared in the dark! But... I wasn't.

I wiggled my fingers. Clink. The chains held me tight.

I felt safe. I knew Mommy was just upstairs, and I knew Uncle was guarding the door. I knew they all loved me so much that they tied me up just to let me rest. I was just a doll put back on the shelf for a little while.

I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift like little clouds. I was helpless... and later, when they came back, I would be 'helpful'.

But then... the drift went the wrong way.

A voice whispered from the dark corners of my fluff-brain. Not the nice voices. The other one.

"Look at the fairy faggot," it sneered. "Angry little shit."

I flinched against the wall.

Rage?

That was a scary word! Sissies aren't angry! Sissies are happy and giggly! Why did the bad voice say rage? Sissies cry when they are scared; they don't get mad!

And then... I heard the other part.

"Grab the Princess," the voice laughed. "Make them watch each other bleed."

I froze.

Wait.

Princess?

My sissy brain tried to grab the thought, but it was slippery. I was too fuzzy! I needed help!

"Daddy!" I called out inside my head. Daddy, help! What does it mean? Am I the princess?"

But Daddy stayed asleep. Daddy didn't like these memories. Daddy hid from them.

I needed... I needed the other voice.

I needed the Big Girl Voice. She was smart. She was like Mistress, but inside my own head.

"Come here," I whispered to myself. "I need to be smart for a minute."

I took a deep breath. I let the bubbles pop. I let the giggles fade.

And she stepped forward.

My mind cleared. It wasn't cold like the Fixer's, but it was sharp... Whole. It felt like putting on a pair of glasses and suddenly seeing the leaves on the trees.

"Okay," the Big Girl Voice said. My voice was calm now, like steel wrapped in silk. I briefly mused before focusing on the task at hand. "Let's listen properly."

I hung in the ropes, but I wasn't just floating anymore. I was thinking.

The pieces started to click together, not like Lego blocks, but like the beads on a necklace.

It was before Mommy... mmm Mommy.

The memory was old, I realised. But the intent was clear. "Faggot" and "Princess" were spoken in two different directions.

University, I realised. Could there be a gap in the timeline?

There were two of us.

I saw a flash. A cramped space. Fear.

There was Him. The one they hurt because he was a boy in a dress.

And next to him... There was 'her.'

The Princess.

I tried to look at her. I tried to see who she was.

But her face was... gone. It was just a blur of static. A blank space where a person should be.

"Who are you?" I asked the memory.

But I couldn't see her.

So I looked at him instead.

And I felt it.

It started in his chest and flooded his veins. It was pure, distilled fury.

I felt his blood boil. I felt the scream trapped in his throat. He wasn't crying. He wanted to kill them. He wanted to rip the world apart with his bare hands because they were hurting the girl with no face.

The rage slammed into me. It was too big for both... clearly.

'I'll take it,' I decided.

I reached out and wrapped my mind around that boiling, acidic anger, and I squeezed. I pulled the fire out of his chest and into mine. It burned, but I now knew I was forged in this fire he forgot. I could hold it.

That was how I got in for good this time. By taking the anger he couldn't handle and turning it into steel.

---

 

I looked at the blank space in the memory where the Princess should be.

I couldn't see her face, I didn't know her name, and I didn't know if she got out.

But I knew what happened.

The math was simple. He was restrained. The Princess was hurt. He was forced to watch.

"Rape," I deduced, holding back the pain. Both of them most likely.

And fucking 'sir', my blood boiled. He knew, I realised. He must have known.

He had carried this radioactive secret for eighteen years.

But then my anger faded just as quickly as it had surfaced.

'Sir' was the best friend who had watched him. He watched him build a fortress over a graveyard and hadn't said a word because he knew the foundation was shattered. He probably hated himself for every silence, every moment he couldn't fix what was broken.

Poor Bastard, I thought with a pang of sympathy and love for our best friend.

And the ladies? They left the room. They left the Sissy alone. Why?

"They know too," I concluded. "The fucker told them. He finally cracked the seal."

That meant they weren't running. They knew about the monster in the room, and they locked the door with him, not against him. The silence was a planned tool in their arsenal. They were all in on the fight.

And then, I thought back to the name. 'Eve.'

It floated up from the deep water of my memory. I didn't know if it was her name, my name, or just a word we used.

But it fit.

It fit like a key in a lock.

If I took the name, I could take the pain associated with it. I could weaponise it. I could make them say it, make him say it. I could force it out of them until it didn't hurt anymore. An acknowledgement without the blood.

"I will be the heat shield," I decided. "And once we are strong enough... once I have put enough of the pieces together... we will find the real Princess together."

I looked down into the mental architecture.

I saw him hiding in the corner. Far away from the light. He looked so small. He was the boy from that night, shivering, his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Come here," I whispered.

He flinched.

I called to him gently. "It’s okay. Come to me."

Slowly, painfully, he uncurled. He looked at me. He didn't see a stranger. He saw the part of himself he had tried to kill.

He crawled forward.

I sat down on the floor of our mind. I opened my arms.

I called my sissy over to my right knee. She snuggled in instantly, desperate for comfort.

And then, I pulled him onto my left.

He was resisting, but I held him. I wrapped my arms around both of them. My Sissy and my Man. Making sure they felt my breath as I pulled them into my chest.

"I have you," I told them. "I have you both."

"Who are you?" Aria whispered.

I looked at him. I needed him to hear it.

"You will only call me by my name," I told them.

"What is it?" He rasped.

"Eve," I said.

He jerked instantly as a blinding pain flashed in his eyes.

"No," he gasped. "Don't say it."

"I am Eve," I spoke gently as I pressed a kiss to his forehead. "And I am fine. Look at me. I am here."

He looked. He searched my face... Our face. He saw the strength. He saw that the "weakness" he feared was actually the only thing holding us together.

The tension drained out of him. The "Fixer" finally clocked out.

"Okay," he breathed. "Okay, Eve."

He closed his eyes. He leaned his head against my shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

I held them for a moment longer. We were the Trinity.

But I didn't hand the reins back to the sissy. Not yet.

I opened my physical eyes.

I was hanging from the wall, and my wrists were cuffed in leather. I was spread wide and exposing the body I had claimed.

I tested the ropes. They were tight and secure. As intended, they were unyielding.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across my face.

Perfect, I thought.

I heard footsteps in the corridor. The heavy, muffled thuds of their return.

Good, I thought, lifting my chin, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness.

I wasn't going to hide when they walked through that door.

Trust was a two-way street. They had protected the Sissy. Now, they had to meet the woman who protected her 'Daddy.'

I waited for the latch to turn, suspended in the dark, ready to introduce myself.

---

 

The mirror has cracked, and the lines between friends have entirely dissolved. The first pieces of this adventure are coming to the fore. The only real question is what will you do?

Your choices tonight: Which pair do we follow into the dark next chapter?

1. Adam & Zara:
2. Eli & Cass:
3. Mommy & Our dearest Sissy:

This continues exactly where chapter 1 left off. Please read the prologue and chapter 1 for continuity.

Quick note: there was a typo in the previous chapter - it was 11.30 AM in Eden’s Dungeon. Not 1.30 AM. This has been updated.

Chapter 2

 
November 14th 2025: 11.20 PM
The home of the Millers

While her mouth remained locked with Cass’s, she shifted her weight as she slid one leg back to open her stance. With her incredible grace, she reached down, hooked her thumbs into the lace, and peeled off her soaking panties in one smooth motion.

With her folds now bare to the room, she threw me her signature heavy-lidded side-eye. Her blue sapphires locked onto my hungry ambers... and she curled her index finger. A hook straight to my heart and my pleading crotch. 'Get in here.'

I shoved to my feet, fingers fumbling with the button like a teenager in a back seat, and finally dragged my pants down. The cool air hit my rock-hard junk, but in reality, it instead felt searing hot as all the eyes in the room locked onto me.

Cass tore her mouth away from Zara’s, her breath hitched as her eyes widened. It seemed that the scale of the situation had finally registered.

"Sonuvabitch," she gagged. She sounded half-terrified but also half-entranced. "That... thing is not meant for fucking, Tripod. It's intended for insurance claims."

She sounded like she’d just found a loaded gun in a jewellery box as she continued, "It's a choking hazard waiting for a victim. No wonder Zara keeps her mouth shut so much. She’s probably trying to unhinge her jaw all the time."

Eli glanced over her shoulder, a flicker of territorial aggression warring with amusement at my plight. He was well aware of my discomfort with being put on display.

"There’s a reason we stopped sharing a changing room back in uni," Eli grunted through the sweat on his face. "Ruined the entire cricket team's self-esteem for the entire duration. The man walks around with a weapon of mass destruction."

"Shut up," Cass huffed, bucking back hard against him to remind him of his current job description. "Less talking, more fucking."

Zara didn't laugh, though. She lifted her head, her cheeks thoroughly flushed now with the heat of the moment. She looked from Cass’s ravaged form to me. There I was. Exposed, embarrassed, and past the point of no return.

I took a step, but Zara raised a hand. She didn't utter a syllable. She just held my gaze and posted the silent command in the air between us: 'Halt.'

Then, she slid her hand down between her legs.

She violated herself with a slow, deliberate rhythm before dragging a glistening finger up to her lips. She sucked it into her mouth, tasting herself even as her haunting eyes bored into mine.

She pulled the wet finger free with a soft pop.

"Well?" she purred. "Come over here and fuck me like you want to fuck the slut who just seduced your wife."

Cass let out a squeal of pure, filthy glee, grinding back against her husband. "Yes! Oh my God, yes! Fuck her exactly like you would like to fuck me!"

"Yeah, go on, do it, Big Boy," Eli joined in, grinning. Then his expression tightened, and the bouncer stepped out from behind the velvet rope. "But just to be clear, mate, I can’t stop where your head goes, but your junk had better stay inside your own missus."

I blinked, "What the fuck, Eli?"

He simply shrugged while not missing a thrust. "Just look at Cass. I wouldn't blame a monk for wanking to the idea of my little sex biscuit. Even the bloody gay hairdresser tried to chance his arm last week."

"Gay, my ass, and not just me," Cass gasped. "He wanted to hit on Z, too! But he was terrified she'd slash his throat."

That broke the spell. Zara’s patience shattered like cheap glass dropped on concrete.

"Shut up!" she hissed, shredding the stupid banter into silence. "Both of you. Not another word."

Her eyes were searing into mine now.

"Adam." Her voice dropped into a growl. "Get over here. Don't you dare dangle my property in empty air. Fuck me up. Hard."

And for me... in that one single moment... the world dissolved. What remained was simply the burning need to mark my territory.

---

 
I couldn't let the order hang in the air now, could I? I stepped up behind her and my hands found her waist. I loved it when her skin burned as that Mumbai sunset warmth radiated off her back.

She didn't wait for me to guide myself. She tipped forward, arching her back deeply to present herself to her willing victim. I gripped her hips, thumbs digging into her soft flesh to anchor us both, and drove into her with virtually no effort.

"Christ, Zara," I hissed, burying myself to the hilt in one smooth push.

She threw her head back, a moan tore from her throat as she pushed back against me and swallowed me deeper. "Don't you… ngh… dare hold back."

Indeed, I didn't. I couldn't. Almost instantly, I fell into that violent rhythm that we both knew so well. I was claiming what was mine. I stood my ground, making sure I drove into her with that wet, rhythmic slap that echoed in the room. She reached back, her nails finding my skin and clawing at my thighs to pull me in even deeper.

Despite my focus, over the curve of her shoulder, I had a front-row seat to the carnage in front of me. Eli was grinding Cass into the couch with a look of pure, primal bliss.

I caught his eye. And because I was a petty, triumphant bastard, I couldn't help but open my fat mouth.

"That’s a bottle of the thirty-year Macallan," I grunted, punctuating the sentence with a snap of my hips that made Zara gasp. "Pay up. I told you… hnn… I told you it would be this year."

Eli squeezed his eyes shut, his rhythm faltered for just a moment as Cass clamped down on him. "Fine, you bastard," he wheezed, teeth gritted.

Beneath my hands, Zara went rigid. Her internal muscles clamped around me like a velvet vice, nearly ending me right there. She twisted her neck, looking back at me with eyes that had sharpened from lust into suspicion.

"Excuse me?" she huffed, breathless, bracing her hands against her knees to look at me. "What… ah!… what did you just say?"

I didn't stop moving. I couldn't. So I did what I thought was the next best thing. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently turned her head towards me. "The bet was that you two hook up one day," I gasped, driving into her harder. "Eli took the even years. I took the odd ones. 2025. I win."

"You… you bet on us?" Zara’s voice rose, genuine rage fighting with the pleasure of me wrecking her. "You gambled on… our monogamy?"

"Not against it," I promised, leaning down to bite the sensitive cord of her neck. "Never against it, but it was inevitable." I looked at Cass, then back to my wife, softening my voice even as I slammed into her harder. "Look at you two. We always knew."

"Knew what?" Cass chimed in even as she rode the edge of Eli’s rhythm.

"That you loved each other too much," I said, keeping the rhythm honest. "We know you love us, but we also knew you couldn't keep your love for each other in a box forever," I grunted before continuing. "We just… ngh… we simply decided to put some booze on the line."

The anger in Zara’s eyes flickered a little now, damped down by the truth of my confession, and my dedication to her twat. She stopped fighting the idea and surrendered to the sensation, arching her back deeper, forcing a groan from my chest.

"You're both still idiotic pricks," she whimpered, but she leaned back against me, accepting the weight of my chest against her spine.

"So," Cass groaned as she ground down on Eli. "Since we are settling debts… we need to balance the ledger. Maybe the boys should—"

"No," Zara cut her off, snapping her head up. Her voice was breathless but absolute. "Absolutely not. We are better than those two morons."

Her hand slid around to grip my arse, nails digging in through the flesh. "All of us. We all pay if we want to gamble..." She looked at me over her shoulder, half-dazed eyes gleaming.

“Okay,” Cass said. “New bet.”

---

 

 
Zara lifted her head as she spoke up, "So... mmmm...what game are we even playing?”

Cass laughed before she continued. “You boys,” she addressed Eli and me, “get to prove you are not just our toys in this little fuck-fest. Last one to unload wins."

She paused. Letting the moment breathe even as her eyes gleamed with the predatory delight of a loan shark sensing a default.

“And the stakes? Let's keep it simple. Winner’s choice. Losers do whatever the winners demand. No bitching, no limits, and certainly no vetoes."

Eli’s hands tightened on her hips. “You are turning sex into a competitive sport again, woman," he told her.

"Yes, and you will let me do it anyway,” she shot back. "You'd better win. Screw up and you pay in suffering. That was the fine print when you married me.”

I should have seen the grenade being dropped on the floor. The pin had been pulled, and the clock was ticking.

My stomach should have performed the typical flip that usually preceded a margin call, but my instincts failed me in the haze.

'Winner’s Choice' should have triggered every alarm in my head, but it failed to register.

I knew my own inventory. I knew exactly what a week without touching myself did to the machinery.

Zara should have put the brakes on things. Set limits, but just like me, she too was lost in the moment to think rationally.

We had decided that for one week each month, Zara would be left alone in support of the terrible pain she would never mention. No poking or pestering. I, in support of her, extended the boundary. No intimacy while she rode the tide, of course, but also no relief for me either until she formally signed off on it.

Saving up, she called it. She liked the way I felt after.

She called it 'Saving Up For Service'. She liked the way I felt afterwards. The way I went from in control to a desperate mess. She enjoyed that moment of absolute leverage.

Tonight was going to be 'that' first time.

And I was a loaded gun whose every nerve was humming. I could feel the denial from all of last week surging through my blood like high-voltage static.

"Game on," Eli grunted as he found a slow, deliberate rhythm within his wife.

"Deal," Zara breathed against my neck, too high on the pounding to read the warning label.

I was in trouble. Deep, structural trouble.

My body was a traitor with its week’s worth of denial, while Zara’s equally traitorous insides were milking me with wanton hunger. I gritted my teeth, forcing my breathing to slow, trying to think of unsexy things. Tax returns. Damp basements. The inevitable heat death of the universe.

It wasn't working. Not with my Zara arching back against me. She was gasping in pleasure even as her fingernails dug crescents into my arse.

I tried to stabilise, leaning into my own legend. Eli's stamina, based on the various times I heard him and his conquests in uni, had always been perfectly reasonable. I, however, was jokingly called a perpetual motion machine. One who could hold a climax near indefinitely.

Even compromised with a week of pent-up need, I shouldn't be failing. My pride kicked in as I slowed my stroke. I forced myself back to a manageable, deep tempo, now confident I could outlast the smug bastard.

"You look… ngh… tense, Adam, all okay?" Cass teased between thrusts.

She was bracing herself on the ottoman, looking back at us with a cat-got-the-canary smirk. All while Eli continued to rail her. "Don't tell me you're close already?"

"Focus on your own husband, bitch," I managed to choke out, sweat stinging my eyes.

"Oh, I am," she purred, reaching back to tangle her fingers in Eli’s hair. "But Eli is an endurance machine today. Aren't you, baby?"

Eli let out a low groan."Fuck... Now I get it."

"Yes, you do, baby." She laughed, the sound wet and breathless. "Zara, Adam, do you know why WE are going to win?"

She looked at us, eyes gleaming with pure malice. "He’s empty loves. I drained the tank before you two arrived."

I froze, missing a stroke. "What?"

"Sabotage," Eli wheezed, burying his face in her neck to hide his grin.

"Thrice," Cass announced gleefully, her hips snapping back to meet him. "Twice in the bedroom this afternoon. And then… oh god… then I got on my knees in the hallway. Sucked him dry right before you rang the doorbell. He’s barely loaded," she took a moment to let the venom sink. "Mrs and Mrs. footlong. My Eli's got nothing left to lose."

My brain stalled. The bastard wasn't pacing himself. He was coasting on the fumes of a marathon he had run well in advance. He was well prepared to fuck me over.

"That is… ah!… that is not fair!" Zara gasped. I could feel her indignation in her grip around my forearms. Her eyes were flashing now. "That’s cheating! The bet is void!"

"Nope!" Cass screamed just as Eli hit a particularly sensitive spot. "It's being opportunistic and... no… ngh… take-backs! The clause stands!"

Fuck!!!! The scheming little shit was right.

The trap snapped shut. And we were already falling.

---

 
It was the ironclad law of our shared history. From the time I bought tickets to the wrong festival, to the time Eli bet on a horse with three legs. If hands were shaken or words spoken with intent established, you ate the loss. It was the constitution of our relationship.

"Fuck," I hissed, realising the trap had closed.

"You walked right into it," Eli brayed like the ass he was, but his breathing too had turned jagged by now. Good, the smug bastard was struggling to hold it as well.

"Oh, stop whining, you two," Cass taunted before catching her breath. "Besides, it's not like I planned this, Adam. Eli was drained as a consolation prize for something else, but this... This was a spur-of-the-moment stroke of genius given the circumstances."

She paused, a wicked glint entering her eyes. "Well... I did know exactly what I was working with. Zara told me about your little... ritual. 'Saving up for service,' isn't it?"

I froze even as Zara flinched against me. Of course, they talked about it.

Cass laughed as she saw the awful realisation dawn on our faces. "So, come on then, the two of you. Please show us what a week of desperate, pent-up celibacy looks like. Let’s see if the legend holds up against a man running on empty."

It was the taunt that I tried to draw from, but failed miserably at.

Zara and I were a biological car crash that simply couldn't be contained. The end was near, and we both knew it.

"Come on, Adam," Cass purred, "Don't you want a little justice? Don't you think revenge is a dish best served... inside me."

"Shut up," I gritted out, sweat stinging my eyes now.

"Think about it," she continued. "I had my way with your lovely wife. Isn't it time you returned the favour? Picture it. Pushing into me while Eli watches from the cheap seats. A fair trade in the marketplace of sin."

"Adam, listen to me!" Zara gasped beneath me, her nails digging crescents into my shoulders. "Don't listen to the harpy. Think unsexy thoughts! Think about... the damp patch on the ceiling! Think about the reaming I gave you for the trash you forgot to throw yesterday!"

"Or," Eli chimed in from the sidelines, his voice vibrating with the glee of a chaos demon, "picture a scenario where she is stuck in customs at the airport. Passport gone. And, 'the only way' to save Cass from solitary confinement is for you to heroically shag her senseless."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," I roared, hips bucking traitorously.

"Shut it. You are ruining the mise-en-scène," Cass snapped, before dropping her voice. She dug deep to find that lethal, velvet whisper I had only heard when she intended to ruin her husband. She leaned in slowly and close enough that I could smell her perfume. "Forget the fucking airport. Focus on my words, Adam. You know how we can get... heavy."

Oh shit! She knew precisely how to win, and as she intended, the vision burned itself into my head.

Zara felt the tremor in my hips immediately. She didn't need to see the glaze in my eyes because she could FEEL the betrayal in my stroke. The traitorous hitch of a man trading his soul for a biological imperative. She whipped her head back, neck straining against the angle, and scrambled backwards blindly. Her nails were digging deeper into my thigh in a panic-stricken attempt to hit the brakes.

"Adam, no!" she shrieked, her voice climbing an octave. "Think about... think about unwashed Tupperware! Think about wet socks on carpet!"

"Imagine it," Cass wheezed, dragging air into her lungs with great effort. She leaned in. "Two of us... oh... God, Adam... both of us." She shuddered. "Both of us with huge. Ngh... Round bellies... skin so tight... so tight it shines."

"Tax audits! Sludge!" Zara yelled, though her legs were shaking, unlocking, betraying the wet heat slicking her thighs.

"Heavy," Cass panted while burning the vision into my brain. "Tits... so heavy... fuck. Soaking our little tees. Just two... big... dripping... mmmm."

My rhythm stuttered as she had intended. I was caught between Zara’s frantic pleas and the filth Cass was painting on the inside of my eyelids. Eli, the traitor, could only laugh.

Cass dropped her voice to a slurred whisper. "On the bed... Daddy. Side by side." She let out a long, broken moan as her eyes fluttered shut. "No thoughts... just... uh... empty. Tongues out, Daddy... drooling on the sheets."

"Don't listen!" Zara begged, losing the war.

"We’d call for you," she moaned and followed it with a soft, desperate moo. It was the kill shot and tore through whatever little restraint I had. "Come on, Daddy. Make it real."

'Snap.'

My control shattered just as I intended. I willpower was no different from a cheap windshield smashed apart by a bat.

And the second Zara felt the dam break, she too abandoned any desire to win as she slammed her weight back against me. She ground down hard, now totally giving into the fantasy that Cass used like kerosene to fuel our meltdown.

"Fuck it!" she screamed, her nails clawing into my thighs. "Fill me up, Daddy!"

I buried my face in the curve of her neck, teeth grazing her salty skin to muffle the roar in my throat. My vision drowned in white static. My restraint was knocked out of me as my body slammed into her like a high-speed collision on the motorway. I pumped into her, pouring everything I had into the wife who was now demanding it.

Somewhere in the distance, through the rushing blood in my ears, I heard Cass’s laugh curdle into a jagged, broken scream.

"Yes!" she wailed, her voice cracking as Eli finally drove home one more time. "Cum in me. Now!"

And then, literal fucking seconds after our fall, Eli let loose with a guttural groan that rippled through the floorboards.

I collapsed. We lost, but Jesus, what a way to lose.

It was heartbreakingly close. My ego wanted to argue for a photo finish, but Cass would never let me.

Then, she too collapsed forward onto the couch, shaking with the aftershocks as she dragged Eli down with her dead weight.

Zara slumped against me as her legs trembled so hard she could barely stand. I held her up even as my arms locked around her waist. My forehead rested on her shoulder as my heart tried to hammer its way out of my ribs.

"You lost," Zara whispered, her voice was raw, but she didn't sound upset. In fact, my dear wife sounded thoroughly and completely satisfied.

"I hate them," I gasped, closing my eyes against the burn.

---

 

December 7th 2025 : 4:00 AM

The Maid’s Quarters. Eden

 
The numbers on the little clock glowed in the dark, bright red eyes staring at me, going Blink. Blink.

Four o’clock was important. I knew that deep down in my tummy. Four o’clock was when Daddy used to wake up. Daddy liked to run. He liked to put on his shoes and run and run until his legs hurt and his head was quiet.

But I wasn’t Daddy. I was a Sissy. And Sissies didn’t run. Sissies stayed in bed. Sissies were soft.

I wiggled my toes under the blanket. Mmmm, the sheets felt scratchy but nice. I giggled into my pillow. Smooth legs were the bestest.

I peeked over at Mommy. She was holding me tight, taking care of me, and she looked so beautiful. My Mommy was keeping me safe.

But then I felt it. Uh oh.

Down between my legs. It was awake, and it was poking against my little panties.

'No, no, no,' I thought, biting my lip. 'Bad clitty. Naughty clitty.'

Sissies don’t have pokey things except on their boobies. Sissies are soft and tiny.

If mommy woke up and saw my clitty being all big, she might think I wasn’t trying hard enough to be her pretty little doll.

'I have to fix it,' I thought, nodding to myself in the dark. 'I have to be a good little sissy.'

I sat up slowly, careful not to squeak the bed. I slid my legs out. My nightie, the pretty lavender one with the ruffles that Miss D got for me, swished around my thighs. I felt my boobies sway against my chest and hugged myself, squeezing them just a little because it felt nice to know they were there.

I tiptoed to the little table. It was dark, but my eyes were good.

There it was. The magic bottle. 'The Frost.'

Mommy and Miss D did this part before. They painted me with it to make me tiny. But if I did it myself... oh! Mommy would be so happy! She would wake up and see her perfect little sissy, and she would smile her special smile and maybe let me give her more treats.

I pulled my panties down.

'Shimmy shimmy.'

I looked down. It was getting softer now, so I told the silly thing to get even softer... mmmphh... 'soft now... it will hurt if it was still hard. It was just a decoration until Mommy wanted it back.

I dipped my fingers into the jar. 'Ooooh, cold!'

I rubbed the gel all over it. "Shhh," I whispered to my clitty. "Go to sleep. Go away."

It tingled like peppermint and then... magic. It started to shrink! I watched it get smaller and smaller, retreating like a little turtle hiding in its shell. It turned even more pink... oooh, like a rosebud.

But... hmm.

I poked underneath. Those two were still there. They looked too big for a sissy.

I remembered what Mommy did yesterday. She was so gentle. She pushed them up, up, up into my tummy.

'I can do that,' I thought. 'I’m a big girl.

I dipped my hand in the Frost again. Lots of it. I smeared it all over them.

I took a deep breath.

'In... out...'

I pushed. 'Squish.' One went up! It felt weird, like a little pop in my tummy, but it didn't hurt! It felt... empty.

I did the other one and Floop! It was gone!'

I giggled as I clapped my hands quietly.

'Yay!'

"Shrink," I commanded, just like Mommy. "Be tiny."

And it did! The skin got tight. It shrivelled up until there was almost nothing left. Just a tiny, smooth mound with a little pink button in the middle.

I ran my hand over it. Perfect for a sissy.

I looked in the mirror on the wall. Even in the dark, I could see my shape. My hips were wide, my bum was nice and big, and my boobies looked perky, and down there?

I felt a flutter in my tummy. My perfect little clitty.

But then... I remembered last night.

'Daddy.'

I shivered. It was so confusing. I remembered feeling Daddy inside my head, scared and angry. And then... I remembered giving my sissy pussy to him.

'My sissy pussy.'

I touched my bum cheek. It felt hot.

I gave it to Daddy, I thought, my brain feeling fuzzy and pink. But ...

Daddy is sleeping. Daddy is gone for now.

Maybe... maybe Mommy could touch it?

Oh my heart 'Thump-thump-thump.'

Of course, she could. Mommy owned it. Mommy owned everything.

I crawled back into bed, happy that Mommy would wake up to me being perfect. The mattress dipped. I moved slowly, like a little kitty cat, crawling between Mommy’s legs.

It was cosy and warm down here. It smelled like Mommy, but... different? Usually Mommy smells so light and sweet, like pretty flowers or honey. But this was ...

Poor Mommy! She must have been so tired. She worked so hard taking care of her sissy. She probably got so hot watching me all tied up last night that she didn't even wash up! She must have just gone straight to sleepy-byes...

Mmmm, but that's okay! If Mommy is too tired to clean herself, Mommy's Sissy could do it! Thank you. I lowered my head. I pressed my face right against her.

I took a big, deep smell.

'Sniff.'

Oh! My eyes watered just a little bit. It was strong. But... no!!!

'Mommy always smells nice,' I told myself firmly. 'Mommy smells perfect.' I repeated it in my head, over and over, pushing the yucky thoughts away. 'Sissy loves her mommy.'

'Click.'

My brain did a little flip, and I sniffed again. My soft little clitty twitched happily. Mmmm. Time to get to work.

I started licking softly. Just through the cotton. Like a good little puppy cleaning its owner.

Mommy stirred. Her legs shifted, opening wider.

I nudged the fabric aside with my nose.

There she was. Wet and warm.

I licked properly now. My tongue swirled. Mmmm... salty.

Just then, Mommy gasped.

Her head lifted off the pillow. I peeked up through my long, fluttery lashes.

Mommy was looking down at me. Her eyes were sleepy, but then... they went wide. She saw me. She saw her Sissy between her legs, eating her.

She didn't push me away.

A sleepy smile spread across her face.

"Well," she purred, her voice raspy. "Look at my hungry little bitch."

Before I could giggle, Mommy moved.

'Snap!'

Her thighs clamped around my head! Tight! Like a vice!

"Mmph!" I squeaked.

"Eat," she commanded. "Don't stop."

I licked faster. I swirled and sucked. My brain turned into bubbles.

'Pop. Pop. Pop.'

No thoughts. Only Mommy. Only her moaning. "Yes... good girl... right there..."

She bucked her hips. She ground herself against my face. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't want to breathe! I wanted to drown in Mommy!

"I'm cumming!" she gasped.

She shuddered and then...

'Splash.'

She came all over my face! Warm and wet. It soaked me everywhere.

She squeezed me so tight I saw stars.

'Pretty, sparkly stars.'

When she finally let go, I fell back, gasping. I licked my lips.

'Yummy.'

"Good morning, baby," Mommy whispered, pulling me up.

She kissed me, tasting herself on my mouth.

"Turn around," she said. "Sixty-nine."

I flipped over. I was so excited! Mommy wanted to milk me! Mommy wanted to make my clitty feel good, too!

I put my face back in her crotch, happy to clean her up.

I waited for her mouth. I waited for her warm hand to grab my clitty.

But... nothing happened.

Mommy was trying. I could feel her tongue swirling. I could feel her sucking.

But I couldn't feel it.

The Frost worked too well! My clitty was so frozen that Mommy couldn't suckle on it.

"Hnnn," Mommy sounded frustrated against my tummy.

She suckled harder, trying to pull the little nub out, but it was numb. It felt like... like touching your elbow.

"I'm sorry!" I wailed, pulling away. "I'm sorry, Mommy! I broke it! I'm stupid!"

Mommy sat up. She looked at my tiny, frozen crotch. Then she looked at my teary face.

"Shhh," she soothed, wiping my tears. "You're not stupid, baby. You were just being a very efficient little sissy with the treatment."

"But you can't milk me!" I sobbed. "Sissies need to be milked!"

Mommy paused. She tapped her chin. She looked at me... and her eyes got dark. Darker than the room.

"You're right," she whispered. "It is important for Sissy to be milked daily. Very important."

She smiled. It was a new smile. A hungry smile.

"Lie on your back, baby."

I did. I sniffled, wiping my nose.

"Legs up," she ordered. "Grab your ankles."

I grabbed my ankles. My nightie fell down, exposing my tummy and my clitty fully

Mommy crawled between my legs again.

She kissed my knees.

'Kiss. Kiss.'

She kissed my thighs.

'Kiss. Kiss.'

She kissed my tummy.

Then... she spread my legs, and I felt the cool air hit my bum. I was showing her my...oh no!

"Mommy?" I whispered. My heart was fluttering like a little birdie trapped in a cage now.

"Can I kiss your sissy pussy, baby?" she asked softly.

"But... but..." I stammered. "Only Daddy can touch it. No?"

"Daddy isn't here," Mommy agreed. "Just us girls."

"But what if it hurts?" I whimpered.

"Relax, baby," Mommy cooed, stroking my hair. "Mommy will only kiss it first. Mommy has soft lips."

She leaned in.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I felt warm breath. And then...

'Mwaaa.'

Her lips were soft and warm, and it tickled a little!

"See?" Mommy whispered against my skin. "Just a kiss."

She then licked it.

'Slurp.'

"Oh!" I gasped. That felt... weird. But nice. Warmer.

and she licked it again and again until I was squirming. 'Oooh, mommy.'

Then I heard a sound.

'Squirt.'

I opened one eye. Mommy had gotten the gel from the side table and was putting it on her finger. A big glob of it.

"Just to make it feel nice and lovely, baby," she promised.

She lowered her head again. She put her mouth on my tiny, frozen clitty. She started to suckle. Even though it was numb, the suction felt grounding.

And then... I felt her finger.

"Mommy needs to put a finger in, baby," she murmured around my clit. "Open up for Mommy."

"Yes," I breathed, feeling hazy and floaty. "Yes, Mommy."

She pushed.

'Slide.'

Tears pricked my eyes again. "Mommy, it hurts!"

"Shh, good girl, breathe," she hummed, sucking my clit between words. "Relax your tummy. Let Mommy in."

She pushed a little more.

"Ouchie!" I whined, and I wanted to cry. But... wait. It didn't hurt that much. It was just... full. Why was I so scared? Why was I even crying?

'I'm crying because mommy is taking me,' I realised. I'm crying because I'm a girl.

And then... Mommy's finger curled. 'Come here.'

She hit something. Deep inside. My button.

My Sissy Spot.

'ZING!'

My eyes popped open. My mouth formed an 'O'.

It wasn't like the clitty feeling. It was deeper, and it felt like my whole tummy was melting.

"Mommy!" I moaned.

"Found it," she mumbled against my skin.

She curled her finger again. And again.

'Rub. Rub. Rub.'

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"

My hips started bucking. I couldn't help it! My sissy pussy was clenching, grabbing Mommy's finger, trying to hug it!

"That's it," Mommy whispered, looking up at me. Her finger was deep inside me now, pumping in and out. Squelch. Squelch.

"Does Sissy like that?"

"Yes! Yes!" I squealed.

"You know," Mommy said, her voice getting husky and low. "Daddy was big and strong... but Sissy? Sissy makes me so much happier."

My heart soared. Happier than Daddy? Me?

"Really?" I gasped.

"Really," Mommy promised, thrusting faster. "Daddy was always so busy. But Sissy? Sissy is always there for me. Maybe I should keep Sissy full-time."

"Yes! Keep me!" I begged, arching my back.

Mommy pulled me closer. She made me lift my bum up higher.

"Look at you," Mommy growled. "So welcoming. So wet."

She pumped faster as she kept suckling my clitty.

'In out in out.'

It was waking up! Mommy made my clitty ignore the Frost! It was tiny but throbbing!

"I'm gonna cum!" I wailed.

"Not yet," Mommy hissed.

She leaned in close to my ear.

"You know what this hole needs?" she whispered darkly.

"What?" I panted.

"It needs a real cock."

I froze. A real cock?

"I can't wait, baby," Mommy teased, thrusting deep. "Can't wait to find a big, thick, real cock to fuck my little sissy senseless."

"No..." I whimpered.

"Yes," she insisted. "Stretch you wide open. Use you like a sleeve..."

The fear was delicious. It was heavy and scary, and it made my sissy spot throb harder than ever.

"Please..." I sobbed. "I don't want to stretch... I don't want other cummies inside my tummy..."

"Silly girl," Mommy whispered. "I'm just kidding, love."

But the vision was stuck in my head!

"It will hurt." I whimpered, but she wouldn't have any of it.

"CUM FOR MOMMY!" she commanded.

SNAP.

I fell apart.

I shuddered, my whole body shaking like a leaf.

And then...

'dribble.'

I leaked out of my clitty right into Mommy's mouth.

I floated. I felt like pink clouds.

Mommy pulled her finger out slowly.

'Pop.'

She crawled up my body and kissed me with all the love in the world.

"Good girl," she whispered as we lay there snuggling.

Then Mommy sat up. She wiped her mouth as she spoke.

"That was too much Frost," she noted, looking at my still-tiny nub. "You overdid it, baby girl."

She grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the nightstand.

"Sit up. Wipe time."

She lifted up my clitty to wipe below.

"Let us free your balls, baby," she scolded gently. "We need to get some blood back in there."

She wiped and wiped and sprayed it. Mommy wanted them to drop before I moved.

I felt it loosening, then finally dropping back down a few minutes later.

"We'll keep your clitty small for now. I absolutely love it," she declared, checking the clock on the wall.

"It's 4:30. You have chores."

She patted my cheek.

"But listen to me, baby. You will need to grow your clitty back to full size no later than nine o'clock. Understood?

"Yes Mommy!" I chirped. "Happily!"