The room was quiet.
Not peaceful.
That electric kind of quiet — where every second stretched like caramel on a hot tongue. You could feel her heartbeat in the air, rapid and stuttering.
Sugar's legs trembled beneath the blanket. Her lips parted, unsure whether to say "no," "yes," or just moan.
I slid closer, breath ghosting over her cheek.
"You ready to stop lying to yourself, sweetheart?"
Her eyes fluttered open — glassy, pleading, addicted.
"…only if you promise not to tell anyone," she whispered.
"I'm not a snitch, Sugar. But your panties? They're screaming secrets right now."
Her cheeks ignited.
I moved my hand lower, slipping beneath the soft warmth of the blanket… until my fingertips brushed the soaked cotton between her thighs.
She gasped — hips jolting.
"E-Ethan—!"
"Shhh. Let me feel you."
I cupped her gently, palm pressed against the heat, fingers curled slightly into the curve of her wetness. The soaked fabric clung like a confession.
[Sensory Feedback: Maximum. Lust Saturation: 89%][Command: Tease. Stroke. Do not rush.]
Her body responded before her mind could catch up — thighs parting an inch, breath hitching, toes curling into the blanket.
I started slow. Just… dragging one finger up the center of the damp cotton. Then back down. Like I was reading a secret code in her reactions.
She whined. Quiet, desperate.
"Y-you're making me feel… weird again…"
"Weird?" I smiled, tracing lazy circles. "Or addicted?"
She bit her lip hard, back arching slightly. The friction through her panties was soft — maddening — designed to unravel her one nerve at a time.
Her hips bucked.
"I-it's too much…"
"It's not enough."
I leaned in, lips brushing her ear.
"Say it."
"…s-say what?"
"Say you want me to touch you. Skin to skin."
Her breathing was ragged. She looked at me — not as a brother. Not even as a boy.
But as a need.
"P-please… take them off…"
Now we're locked in.
I slipped a finger under the waistband and peeled the panties down slowly. Deliberately. Watching her twitch and shiver with each inch of exposure.
They were soaked — a full sticky confession, glistening in the morning light.
Sugar hid her face in the pillow.
"This is so wrong…"
"And that's what makes it unforgettable."
I ran my fingertips along her bare folds — warm, slick, trembling.
Her hips lifted instinctively, greedy.
"Nnnh—Ethan…"
"Say it again."
She whined. "E-Ethan…"
"Louder."
"Ethan!"
She was gasping now, breath shallow, toes digging into the bed.
[Command Trigger: ACTIVE][Phrase Locked: "Ethan... don't stop."][System: Conditioning her pleasure to your voice.]
I found her clit and started to circle. Gently. Lazily. Just enough pressure to make her whimper, not enough to finish her.
She began to shake.
"Why… why does it feel better when you do it?"
"Because I know your body better than you do," I whispered. "And soon, it'll only respond to me."
She was moaning freely now — legs spread, hips grinding against my hand. Her walls clenched around empty air like they were begging to be filled.
Her eyes rolled back.
"I-I'm… gonna—gonna—!"
I slowed down. Cruel. Caring. Dominant.
"Not yet."
She cried out.
"PLEASE—Ethan—I can't hold it anymore—!"
"Beg."
She sobbed, desperate and aching.
"Please make me cum, Ethan! Please, please—!"
With one final press — a precise stroke across the clit —
— she shattered.
Her body seized up, thighs clamping around my wrist as her back arched violently. A scream tore from her throat — raw, high, completely broken.
I didn't stop. I kept circling, slower, guiding her down from the high as she twitched and spasmed in my arms.
She collapsed into the pillow, panting like she'd run a marathon barefoot through heaven and hell.
Minutes passed.
I kissed her temple.
"You okay?"
"…I h-hate you," she mumbled weakly.
"No you don't."
"…I don't," she admitted, voice trembling. "I don't know anything anymore…"
"Good," I said. "Confusion's the first step to obedience."
She turned to me, tear-eyed, cheeks flushed.
"Are you gonna… do this again?"
I leaned closer.
"You're mine now, Sugar. Every morning you'll wake up this soaked. And every time… I'll make it worse."
She whimpered — and smiled.
A brat no more.
Just a broken doll that liked being fixed the wrong way.
The air in the room was thick. Not just with heat — but with the scent of want.Sugar lay there, flushed and glazed, thighs still twitching from the high I'd dragged her through. Her chest rose and fell in short, sweet gasps.
I was still hard.
Painfully. Visibly. And judging by the way her glassy eyes locked onto my bulge like a kitten seeing her favorite toy...
Yeah. She wanted dessert.
"You're staring."
She didn't blink. "It's... b-because you didn't finish…"
I raised an eyebrow.
"And what do you plan to do about that, stepsis?"
Her blush deepened, but this time, she didn't flinch. Didn't run. Didn't whine.
She slipped off the blanket. On her knees now — small, trembling hands crawling across the bed until she was between my legs, looking up like a guilty sinner in a cathedral of filth.
"…let me fix it."
My zipper came down.
And she gasped.
"Holy crap, you're… huge…"
[System Sync: Psychological Impact — MAXED][Sugar's Brat Mode: DISABLED][Initiating Oral Worship Protocol…]
Her fingers hesitated at first, tracing the length like it was something forbidden — a relic from another world. Then slowly, her lips parted, and her tongue peeked out.
She licked the tip.
Just a flick.
But God — the way she moaned from just that — like my taste was something she'd been craving in secret for years.
"S-so warm…"
She wrapped her lips around the head and sank.
Not deep.Not yet.Just enough to wrap me in heat and wet obedience.
I groaned, hand in her hair. Her mouth was tiny, her tongue slick and worshipful, like she was learning to pray with every stroke.
"Mmmph… Ethan…"
She tried to go deeper, choking softly — but didn't stop. She liked the struggle. Liked gagging on me like it was a challenge she had to win.
Each bob of her head sent shockwaves through my spine.
Her eyes stayed locked on mine — teary, hungry, addicted.
"T-this is wrong…" she slurred around my shaft."But I love how wrong it tastes…"
I thrust gently into her mouth, guiding her rhythm. Her throat clenched.She gagged again.
[Trigger Phrase: "You're my good girl, Sugar."][Effect: Increase Pleasure Output by 200%]
I growled, "You're my good girl, Sugar."
And something in her snapped.
She moaned around my cock like it was a song she'd waited her whole life to sing. Her head started bobbing faster — messy, noisy, enthusiastic.
SlurpGagSlurp
She was sloppy now. Drool dripping down her chin, eyes rolled back, hair tangled in my fingers like a leash.
"I'm gonna—fuck—Sugar—"
She pulled back just enough to gasp:
"Cum in my mouth… please—let me taste it—!"
I didn't hold back.
With one final thrust, I exploded.
She whimpered as I filled her mouth, swallowing every drop like it was sacred — hands gripping my thighs, tongue curling greedily.
She sucked until there was nothing left.Then kept sucking.Because obedience tastes like addiction.
She pulled off slowly, a thick string of spit connecting her lips to my tip. Her face was a mess — cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes blissed-out and half-lidded.
"Did I… do good?"
I smirked.
"You did perfect, Sugar."
She smiled through the afterglow, licking the corner of her mouth.
"…Can I do it again tomorrow?"