Sweet Torture (Domination Kin I & II)

Hi,

This story was posted before by the name of The Domination Kin, and refused by mistake by the system when I tried to edit it.

I re-posted it with the second part and some slight changes.

Hope you enjoy it.

Cheers,

A2O

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Sweet Torture

Part I

-Intro-

When I decided to come spend the weekend at my hated father’s beach house, just two weeks after my divorce, I had absolutely no idea it would end up in pleasure, pain, and death. Yes, death.

Did I deserve revenge on my father, a chance to fix my marriage for good, and a perfect teenage girl allowing me to fulfill my every twisted desire?

Probably not, but this is just what I got.

After eight years in a marriage that started and worked out as a deal, and spending most of my life focusing on getting and becoming rich, that’s what I got. Out of the blue, as if it was meant to be. In the most unexpected of ways, I have to tell you. Sometimes you just have to take the risk if the prize is worth it.

The main piece of the puzzle and the reason for all of this was my exquisitely enticing and young step-sister Carolina, so let’s start with her. My Carol.

-Enter Carol-

I will get you to the important part, then later on I will tell why and how it happened.

Cigarette in hand, I turned left at the main corridor of our reasonably big beach house, the one at the back of the house, with huge windows facing the ocean. I headed to the bar at the billiard room to get yet another dose of whiskey and, all of a sudden, I bumped into her. The one who at the start of the day was my only viable company at that house, the only person that actually felt like family to me and that I felt at least a little pleasure being around, but at night already inhabited all the thoughts in my head.

What was she doing showering after midnight I couldn’t figure. Nor did I care at the moment. What would happen after the towel she was wrapped in fell to the floor was even more unexpected.

She just gasped, alarmed, frozen in place. Her slender and perfect figure was completely exposed for me to see: around 5’5” (1,65m), beautiful budding breasts crowned by light brown nipples, her lightly tanned skin glistened at the silvery moonlight that bathed us from the big glassy windows. Her long and wavy light brown hair fell over her back and covered her shoulders. Her habitual impassive, unimpressed, and blasé look was gone. Carol’s eyes were wide like I had never seen, and she stood right there, immobile.

When I think about it, I couldn’t move as well. Except from my eyes. Time seemed to stop as I delighted in the sight of her, my eyes all over her body; from her trembling full lips, to the beautiful thin line of pubic hair that topped the delicate mounds of her pussy, to her shaking little hands, down to her small princess’ feet.

Maybe it was the blessed alcohol that made me keep my cool. Maybe it was just the certainty I felt about how I could, if I wanted, own that girl. Maybe it was just a deep feeling screaming from the bottom of my subconscious telling me that, yes, she was mine and, yes, I could go for it. Another part of me felt like she wanted this. She wanted to be taken by me.

It translated to my deep, hoarse voice sounding as secure as always, and as certain as ever. Even though I whispered not to wake up our parents. “Give me one good reason not to push you against that wall and give you what you deserve?”

She inhaled deeply. I could feel the fear in her. Carol was terrorized by our father just like I was a lifetime before. Even so, she looked to the white wall I pointed to, between two windows, then looked back at me, “Would you take care of me, the way you said before?”

In short: dominating, owning her to the very core of her being, doing as I pleased, when it pleased me, but then tending to her wounds, to all of her needs, her heart, her mind, her life. That’s what I told her it was domination properly done, not the bullshit housewives fantasized about, nor making part of a society full of rules. If this is my world, those are my rules. As her world seemed to be as dark as mine, she asked me, and I explained. Even though, being so young, I didn’t think she would try to put it to practice so soon.

So that was what it was all about. She wanted out, just like me. I started guessing that deep down, beneath all her intelligence, all the effort she did to keep herself on the pedestal my father stranded her onto, she was just as submissive as her mother, or as mine was. Between homeschooling, being treated like a pet by my father and witnessing him treating her mother like a whore for so long, she didn’t know any better. We do, mostly, follow on our parents footsteps. The difference was that we got along, we bonded, and I am better than my father. So she wanted it, I figured.

And yes, I could make it better. My way.

The mix of my own rage against my upbringing, empathy and the sympathy I felt for her made me give her a warning before it was all irreversible. Only one.

“I can be worse than him,” I said it as a white lie, giving her a last chance to escape, but getting closer and affectionately laying my right hand on her left cheek. I was hard as a rock already, since I saw her. Now I could only imagine myself pressing her against that wall and fucking her, roughly, mercilessly, but I owed her that. I owed her a way out before I pulled her into something I wanted to do so badly and for so long, something she wouldn’t be able to escape easily later on. “My needs don’t match what you need right now. I will love doing bad things to you…” I said while smelling her neck and feeling her shiver. “But, yes, I will take care of you, if you give yourself to me.” I finished while touching her forehead with mine and looking deep into her eyes, green on brown. “Your choice. No turning back. I’m going to love stealing you from them little by little until there is nothing left.”

I thought about kissing her irresistible lips, but before I did she looked to the side and walked away from me. Carol delicately moved next to the wall, “What do you want me to do?” She asked and then bit her lower lip, nervously. Her body language still had that mix of delicacy and elegance I knew her for, her expression though couldn’t hide all the apprehension, the fear…

“Put your hands on the wall,” I ordered while placing my empty scotch glass over a little table close by.

Gracefully, she turned on her heels and I heard her breathing deeply while placing her little hands on the wall. Instinctively, she tilted up her hips a little, arching her back, her little heart-shaped butt up for me to see, as it was her young little pussy. In that black and silver lighted corridor I couldn’t see her colors, but I could imagine the beautiful tone of red the thin line of the visible labia had, as Carol had such red lips that no lipstick would ever be needed for them to be noticed, wanted. She looked at me from over her shoulder, from beneath locks of hair. It was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my entire life, right there.

I moved my much bigger and muscular body to her back and grabbed her by the hair, pulling on it firmly while I unzipped my shorts and set myself free. She gasped loudly once, and again when I started rubbing the tip of my hard cock up and down her tiny slit. To my surprise, even with all the nervousness, I could feel her a little wet.

“I need you to know that I’m going to fuck you like the little whore you are. I’ll make love to you when you deserve it” and I started pushing myself in, pressing her against the wall.

“Aaaaugh!” She groaned in a high pitched voice I didn’t know she could produce, as her tone was always silk, whispery, beautiful.

“Quiet, if they wake up I’ll throw you to their feet and tell them what a little whore you are, coming to me naked in the middle of the night.” I said while I started pushing in and out of her, trying to surpass the initial tightness of her virgin pussy, and she gave me some beautiful muffled groans.

When I felt I was finally getting in, little by little breaking her, feeling her lubing me with whatever I was feeling there, her juices or her blood, her groans and her cry became more urgent. Even so, she didn’t mention stopping me at all, her shaking little hands still on the wall exactly where I ordered them to be.

I felt good. Amazing, really. I decided to help her in the effort of making this happen, and with one of my hands grabbing her firmly by the waist, I used the other to cover her mouth just by the time I felt my dick breaking through the absurdly tight lips of her pussy.

“NNNNNnnnnnnggghhhh!” She wailed while feeling the pinch right there, my thick cock ripping her virginity apart.

“That’s it, baby girl. Now you are mine.”

-Dom’s Vision-

My name is Dominic Martinazzi Leighton, known as and on purpose only as Dom Martinazzi. I am a thirty years old reasonably tall guy, famous for my company and the aggressive way I approach business, my love for fast cars, fighting, whiskey, cigarettes and the unwanted attention of common minded women. I never cared much about the reaction of women other than my wife, to be sincere, other than the ones I marked as business targets and whom I was more than prone to make them wet themselves with dirty looks if that means closing a good deal. If I did, I’d be upset. It is unbelievable how many simple minded women feel attracted to a good looking, yet aggressive, rough guy. That was exactly my case.

As a side note, Carol is half my age. Do the math.

When I was twenty-four years old my mother died of lung cancer. Apparently, being married to my father made her love cigarettes and the idea of a short life, and I understand it. She married him at the same age Carolina was now. He took her from her parent’s house, a very traditional Italian family, married her, and did to her whatever suited him best - so, nothing good. A caged bird, as she used to say.

One year after my mother died my dad, sixty by the time, came back from a trip to Brazil married to a model half his age - maybe I see a pattern here - and at the end of her not that successful career. The thing is, that model had a daughter from a previous relationship called Carolina. Six years ago, he already managed to treat an even younger and adorable version of Carol like shit, somewhere between a burden and a pet with some good tricks to show his friends. To my surprise, differently from mine, her mom didn’t care. The model wanted my father’s money, and my father wanted to keep fucking the stupid model, so it was a perfect marriage that didn’t have place for a child.

At first I didn’t like her at all. Even though I usually hate being around my father, I had to keep contact all the time. When I was eighteen years old I decided that it was time to be by myself, so I started to work to pay for my studies and left the house. My father was against it, of course. As the domineering son of a bitch that he always was, he wanted to keep shoving money from his world-wide transportation company down my throat and ordering me around as I frequented a college close by. What I did was scoring a job in a commodities broker company using the contacts I had with all my father’s “friends” behind his back and starting a clientele from there, then starting my own logistics company with investors that trusted me for the job. In no time I had made a very good name for myself at the cost that I would, eventually, have to be in the same social circle as my father. I had to keep appearances, as going publicly against my father would be terrible for business. It paid off eventually… As it was the only reason I got to know Carol.

We would see each other at every event. I don’t know what called my attention the most, the way my dad treated her, like a prized trained pet used to entertain his crowd and even colder towards her than he used to be with me, something I didn’t expect to be possible, or how different from her mother she seemed to be.

While her mom was stupid as a rock and a bulgy attention seeker, Carol, when left alone, was always at some table reading books about fantasy tales or poetry, or quietly following her mom all around playing the part of the perfect little daughter. The thing is, when I saw her being attentive and gentle to people, I couldn’t see any trace of deception. She was a good kid, an introspective one, apparently very smart, and one that would cry in silence with her head down after my dad treated her like trash, said some atrocity to her mother or about her, or when her mom did the same.

Sometimes it was weird to see such a young girl feeling so ashamed, so self-conscious and, at the same time, having so much finesse, being so delicate. In no time things were sinking in to her and she developed a sort of blasé personality that, combined with how cute she was, started calling everybody’s attention.

It took me a while to notice how, subtly, she always tried to be next to me. When she was in her early teens, already the elegant-although-jaded looking and stunningly beautiful Carol that I know today sat by me and my ex-wife Isabel for the first time and I finally realized that she wasn’t, by far, as trash as her mom was. Not to say that she wasn’t trash at all, I discovered that the cold looking front was nothing but that, a front, a mask. She engaged lightly in all the conversations we had, and even got to be liked by my ex-wife which was something I didn’t expect. Even though Carol and Isabel had many similarities, the difference was that my ex-wife didn’t wear a mask.

-Isabel’s Way-

When Isabel and I decided that there was no more advantage in staying married, we amicably decided to end it. There was no drama, and there was no crying. Eight years of marriage, and it ended like it started: just business, partnership, friendship. We were both in college, and she was four years younger than me, a Portuguese international student. I graduated when she was still in her second year, when we got married. Daughter of the owner of a huge and traditional shipping company, the eighteen year old version of Isabel already knew what she wanted for life: being rich without working, and striking a deal with a future husband which she would support, provided that he let her be as independent as she wanted to be. Her circles and her dad’s help would give me a huge advantage on launching my career, and somebody should use all the potential that the influence of her family had since she wasn't at all interested in doing so. If we weren't so alike, we would probably be together still. We were both young, attractive - and aggressive -, and even if the sex was conventional for the most of it, we figured out how to please each other without crossing any lines. Isabel was, and still is, a very beautiful woman. 5’9”(1,75m), slender, a former ballerina, her skin was of a flawless white, and her hair always long and absolutely black. The cherry at the top were her silvery blue eyes.

I figured out after some months of marriage that the only way I could get at least close to the satisfaction of making her lose control and somehow torturing her, as there wasn’t a single masochistic vein in her body, was through the use of vibrators and alike. After some rounds of sex, mostly at days that we would just spend walking naked around the house and engaging in all different sorts of sex positions, I would have her laying down in bed or in some very exposing position and, usually pinning her hands with something - what she would normally try to stop in any other time that not the post-sex laziness - use the various toys we had to make her come non-stop. With time I started buying different and more potent stuff, and I would keep her coming for me so many times that I got all kinds of outcomes out of her: getting her out of breath, having her literally crying for me to stop, make her squirt all over the place (which made her so embarrassed and I loved it), and the unforgettable and fatidic day in which she literally passed out. It took me more than forty seconds to bring her back, in which I thought I had killed my wife.

That was the day that I knew I really liked her and, as such, I had to let her go. We were not meant for each other, not like that. I would never give her what she wanted, putting me into submission in any possible way. I would also never be able to take what I wanted from her, and we were so sexually active that it was unfair to the both of us. As possessive as we were, an open relationship never even came to mind.

We were both independent, controlling, self-centered, masochistic… It was a shame it was over, but it was also good that it was over. She could find someone that matched what she wanted, man or woman (I had a feeling it didn’t make much difference for her) to play with and I could find that one to be mine. We settled transferring 40% of our company to her name, as well as our apartment downtown and the Mercedes that she loved. The important thing to me was keeping the majority of shares in the company, which would still keep me completely in charge of the business I based my life on and still occupied most of the thoughts I had in a day.

What surprised us was the many times we already had called each other for no apparent reason other than hearing each other's voice.

- “Would you take care of me?” -

We were both at the pier this morning. My father wanted us to go with him on his yacht for a ride along the coast. I wasn’t in the mood for it but, as always, I felt somewhat obligated to. Business reasons. Thankfully, Carolina didn’t want to go as well, as she said she always got sea sick - probably just a smart excuse to spend as little time as possible with my father, her trashy mom and all their bulgy, chauvinist friends.

“Bring her,” I heard my father grunt back to his bitch while heading for the private pier beside the house.

“Come on, honey.” Natalia, Carol’s mom, said while fixing the hilariously big beach hat over her head. She wore a light yellow bikini that helped her tan look even more pronounced. She was a gorgeous woman, I had to give her that. A gorgeously beautiful butt, silicone breasts and the same combination of really thin waist and wide hips I could see in her daughter.

“Mom, please… I’ll feel sick again. You know that.” Carol tried to beg without losing the composure in front of me.

“Take your nerdy toys and follow me, now.” She said pointing to Carol’s bag, which apparently had a pack of books, a kindle and what looked like a thin laptop. “There is absolutely no way I am leaving you alone in this house.”

Carolina breathed deeply and, struggling, lifted her bag. I saw that as a very good opportunity to ditch them, so I took it.

“Natalia, I can take care of her if you want. I’m still hungover from last night, so it is probably best if I stay.” She looked at me for a moment not knowing what to say, while Carol looked at me surprised as I’d been ignoring her since I got to the house last night. I knew Natalia was worried about my father’s reaction, as he is not used to having his orders contradicted, but I insisted. “One of the reasons he used to convince me to come was to spend time with my family. I never had time to have a one on one with my little sister, so let me. It is going to be fine.”

In fact the son of a bitch called me last minute and insisted for me to come because we had two business partners vacationing nearby and they asked for me. Then, as some sort of fast recap of what was happening in his life, so I could pretend to be included in his family, he told me he had an eye surgery a month ago, which forced him to use sunglasses at all times, and told me that Carolina was seeing a shrink and about to start on medication. Apparently, she was feeling heavily depressed and talking about suicide. It hit me as no surprise at all, as I felt the same in my youth while living with him. What stopped me was thinking about my mom. If my mom was Natalia, though

Just the mention of the words ‘little sister’ made her face lit up instantly. I knew that was something she would never expect coming from me, and I would, just like Carol, try to do everything in my power to stay the fuck away from them for as long as possible.

“O-Ok. I’ll talk to Normand. You two behave, ok?” She said in an awkward joking tone, took her small and fancy sea bag, not even disguising the fact that she was happy for not having her daughter around.

We watched her walk all the way through the large wooden pier to the yacht and disappear from sight before I looked at her. “You don’t need to make me company if you don’t want to, I was just helping you out. Give me this bag, it looks heavy. Let’s go back to the house.”

After we got back home I went to the pool with a bottle of my favorite whiskey and a pack of cigarettes, sat on a chair in the shade and just relaxed for a while. I didn’t care about Carol’s whereabouts or what she was doing, she was free to do whatever she wanted, even if it was setting the house on fire.

Curiously, she appeared at the pool wearing a white bikini, a thin red beach wrap tied around her waist and a stylish little hat on her head. She looked gorgeous, as always, with her light brown hair moving with the wind and her beautiful light tanned skin fitting so well her perfectly sculptured little body; skinny overall, rounded and soft looking where it mattered. I think that was one of the reasons Brazilian women were so famous.

She sat at the chair right beside me carrying her kindle.

“Do you mind?” She asked.

I just gave her a quirky look, she smiled at me, something rare to see.

In two minutes we were talking. Initially, only trivialities. She was surprisingly smart, as always and after a while I felt delighted to be talking to her, as she looked like she was having a good time as well. I started to think what a shame it all was, the life she had, trapped with those two and only being able to see her once or twice an year at most and not being able to talk properly to her at all. For all I knew, they didn’t let her have any money, she was home-schooled and her only friends were the daughters of the disgusting people those two have around.

Then, in the middle of the conversation, while she played with her fingers at the screen of the Kindle, it lit up for a second showing her library. It was just for a second, so I couldn’t see anything. Either way, she made a point of turning it off as soon as possible.

I grinned maliciously, “Can I check on the books you are reading?” I asked.

“Hmm…” She panted, frustrated.

“Come on. Who else you think can talk to you without being judgmental as fuck?”

She looked at me for some seconds, blinking, worried, frustrated. Then she just lit it up and handed it to me. “Dom, can I trust you?”

Her little hand trembled.

I took the reader while still looking at her. Could she? What could it be at that library that would get her so upset? Home made weapon instructions? Terrorism? A hundred ways of killing yourself?

“Yes, you can trust me,” I answered in the most reassuring way I could.

She took a deep breath and looked at me apprehensively while I browsed through her books. Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights The Mists of Avalon… Harry Potter, cute… The Hunger Games… Twilight, ugh… What a crazy mix, I thought, but absolutely nothing abnormal or weird… Until I fixed my eyes in one book cover: Fifty Shades of Grey. I have to be kidding me.

I saw her tensing up beside me as my countenance probably changed. She had all the volumes and, after that, only books related to the subject: sex, bdsm, kidnapped girl taken by sexy kidnapper, girl in love with a evil monster, girl caught by a mafia boss, a tale of a slave girl subjugated and consequently in love with her master… All of them looked really fantasized and cheesy, but even so… Holy fuck.

I just looked at her. Carol’s face blushed scarlet and her eyes were down. I didn’t know what to say right away, even though the reasons for her to read this kind of stuff were absolutely clear to me. A normal person maybe would make fun of her, or scold her. I wasn’t a normal person, and I knew the home she came from.

“You don’t need to be ashamed,” I said lightly, and she looked at me somewhat relieved, but still very embarrassed. “Do you want to talk openly about it? You can, if you want.” I gave her her kindle back. The best she could do was to keep looking at the reader’s screen, so I continued, “If I tell you something about me, can you answer me something about you?”

She looked at me, slightly recomposed and looking interested for a second, then nodded.

“I am into this kind of stuff myself. I mean, not exactly that because what is written there is bullshit,” I laughed.

Her eyes opened wide, “You?” Then she furrowed her brows, “Bullshit?”

“My time to ask questions,” I said and she sat up on her chair as somebody who prepares for a blow. “Are you a virgin?”

Carol blushed scarlet, but contained herself, like getting back to the always unimpressed Carol that I knew before. Then, looking me in the eyes, she nodded.

“Ok,” I answered impassively as well. I already suspected that. “Your turn.”

“Why bullshit?”

“Things don’t happen this way, and especially not the way described in Fifty Shades of Grey.”

“How come?”

“The main character is not a masochist and she is trying to make a sadistic guy love her back by pretending to be, changing him. The sex scenes are a joke, and so on… I don’t want to say shit about something you like, I am just telling you that in real life things are really different.”

“So you read the book?”

“Yes, unfortunately, to have this same argument with Isabel.”

“Is Isabel into this too?” She asked wide eyed.

“Not really, kind of… She has a lot of free time…”

“So you two…”

“No…” and then, as to make her more comfortable, I decided to share a little more. “In a way, we are both Christian Grey. Got me?”

“Oh… Oh!” She took one hand to her lips.

“This is one of the reasons we got divorced.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. It is what it is. We are still friends anyway.”

“That’s good. I like her.”

“She likes you too. She said she saw a lot of herself in you. I don’t know if this is good news though.” I grinned, she laughed.

Then I spent at least forty minutes talking openly with her. Carol was feeling more and more comfortable with me, I said things and she listened attentively. I explained to her all I could the way I understand it. Why this kind of fake aggressive sex literature usually attracted people who wanted a more active sex life, to fantasize, and that it had enormous effect in people who felt constrained, stuck, close. I told her how, without being actively pursuing this satisfaction, things escalate to a certain degree of necessity for some sort of ‘safe danger’. I also told her that self-pity, self-degradation, and the feeling of hatred towards oneself can lead to extreme feelings… And she followed my line of thought. She knew I was, for the most of it, talking about her. I told her exactly what a sadistic person felt like, from my own experience, and what a masochistic person usually was, also the wide array of things that can lead someone to have this personality.

“So this is what you are…” She said more to herself than to me.

“I am the pure thing. I don’t want to follow the rules of a community. I just need somebody to give herself completely to me, to feel rewarded by succumbing to my will, to rejoice in all the pleasure, the pain, the feeling of being completely and ultimately exposed, fragile, open. In reward, she wouldn’t have to worry about not a single thing in the world, because being mine, I’d take care of her, all of her, heart, body, and mind.”

I stopped, getting out of my reverie looking at her to seize her reaction. She looked at me silently, the information sinking in. So I just added, “You will never know what you are until you have it. You can surprise yourself… Or not. Whatever it is, don’t lose time pretending to be something that you’re not.”

After that I poured more whiskey for me and offered her some. “Have you ever?”

She smiled, “No… Nor should I.”

“Just a sip. Come on, let me be your first,” I joked.

She blushed, took the glass from my hand, sipped lightly and coughed loudly. I laughed out loud as she gave me back the glass making a face.

“This is horrible!”

“As most good things in life, you have to get used to it. Then it is rewarding. Also as with most good things in life, it is not for everyone,” I said while drinking almost the whole glass in a single gulp.

Again, she got the reference. I loved how smart she was.

Carol then got up, “I think I’ll jump in the pool for a little bit.” Then she ceremoniously unfastened the beach wrap from her waist, letting me see all her beautiful girly curves and slowly walked to the pool. While I admired her little body and thought about all we talked about, still worried if she had noticed how hard I got throughout it, she stopped and looked back. For a moment she just stayed there. I didn’t pretend not to be looking at her. For a moment we just looked at each other, until I raised my glass for her and smiled. She smiled back and jumped in the pool.

Soon the yacht returned and the house was crowded. Every time we run into each other we would talk briefly, mainly making sarcastic comments about our visitors, about my dad, or her mom. Sometimes I would pick on her, sometimes she would pick on me back, which was unexpected, but I liked it.

After dinner I couldn’t see her anymore, I didn’t see when she went to her room upstairs, nor could I take her out of my head. So I stayed downstairs drinking alone to try and put myself to an alcohol induced sleep later. This is when I made a turn on the corridor and there she was, in the dark, wrapped on a towel and nothing else.

-“The way you said before”-

I felt good. Amazing, really. I decided to help her in the effort of making this happen, and with one of my hands grabbing her firmly by the waist, I used the other to cover her mouth at the same time I felt my dick breaking through the absurdly tightness of her pussy.

“NNNNNnnnnnnggghhhh!” She wailed while feeling the pinch right there, my thick cock ripping her virginity apart.

“That’s it, baby girl. Now you are mine.”

I started moving promptly in and out of her. For a moment it was hard to believe that this was actually happening, but her high pitched though soft moans, and the oh-so-tight feeling around my member were there to tell me yes, this was happening, and it was even better than I imagined.

“Nnnnghh-Nnnnnghhh-HHHmmph-NNNGGGUUHHH!” She started groaning more and more, sometimes I heard pleasure, sometimes I heard pain. Her whole body rocked with my thrusting movements, her chest pressed against the wall. I wanted to pull on her hair, but I feared letting go of her mouth and ruining everything.

My threat of giving her back to them was completely unfounded. I would never do that. While feeling her soft, warm little body pinned by mine, and the way she trembled, the way she showed me everything she was feeling through her moans, groans, cries… Not trying to resist one single time, even when I mercilessly pushed myself inside of her… I was absolutely entranced. Her tight little pussy was getting warmer and wetter by the time, letting me reach further. I could feel the head of my cock already reaching the deepest parts of her, something that wouldn’t happen with Isabel in this position, but Carol was shorter, and felt completely different. Every time it got deeper and scraped on what I now imagined was her cervix, the little girl would grunt loudly and her little hands would tremble, as would her everything else.

“NNnnnGH-NNnnnnhhh-GUUUUUUUH!” I started to become evident that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from really screaming in no time. She had already closed her little hands into fists and unconsciously tightened the muscles of her legs, pulling them a little bit closer. I felt her juices running down my cock, though. And again, she never even mentioned to move away from me, to make me stop, she just endured it. Absolutely no way I could know what exactly she was feeling, apart from the pain of her virginity being stripped away and her young pussy being vandalized as it was being.

To her luck, or mine, I couldn’t hold much longer either. So I just let it go.

I pushed it deep inside of her, she got closer yet to screaming loudly, while I myself grunted, realizing everything inside of her, all of it.

When I moved back and stopped pressing her against the wall she instantly fell, limp. I picked her and held her against me before she could hit the ground. My legs shook as it did her whole body. Her heartbeat was fast, and we were both completely sweaty.

I touched her face, caressing her cheeks while she still moaned softly, and I wiped some of her tears with my hand. When I could finally see her in the eyes, I asked “Do you still want me to take care of you?”

“Yes”

Part II

-My Carol-

She still shivered in my arms, her face snuggling my neck. Both of us catching up our breaths, I had a huge grin on my face, something she couldn’t see. She had said yes, not thinking twice, right after I had ravished her virgin pussy. There were groans, there was pain, there was pleasure - mostly by my part, I presume -, there were tears, and, still, there was a yes. It was hard to believe.

I tenderly touched her face and made her look at me.

“I need you to go take a shower, clean yourself. Are you on the pill?” I ordered and then I asked, with a soft voice. Time to take care of her, as promised.

“I’m not, but you don’t need to worry for at least three more days…” She replied looking down, embarrassed. “I counted the days.”

“So you had it all planned,” I assumed in a mocking tone.

She looked even more embarrassed… Then I felt her tense up in my arms.

“There is something that you are not telling me…” I said, seriously. “You are with me now. You could tell me anything before and I would still be by your side, you know that already. Now more than ever.”

Carol looked at me, her eyes still moist from tears, and she inhaled deeply, as if she was gathering courage to tell me something. I bent slightly and kissed her tenderly on the lips, taking from her what I thought to be her first kiss. She closed her eyes, and let it sink in for a second, then she inhaled deeply and said, “It’s your father.”

I froze for a second, and in the next everything made sense already. I felt a sudden urge to go upstairs and kill him, but I didn’t. I had to understand what was happening. I know she was a virgin, but maybe I had mistaken all of this.

“Were you coming downstairs that way to meet him?” I asked coldly.

“N-No… No! He has been approaching me for some time now, and I know what he wants. I know he wants to try something on this trip. I can feel it. So…” She said with a choked voice.

“So you decided that I was a better option,” I concluded for her.

“After our conversation earlier today… Yes,” Carol looked to the side, ashamed. “But I wasn’t trying to throw myself on you, I promise. It’s just… I couldn’t sleep, and I wondered if you were downstairs still… I remember you watching me at the pool, and again at the party. I’m young, but I know when I man wants me. I told myself that if you tried anything, I would let it happen,” she concluded. She looked so beautifully ashamed, and embarrassed… I loved it.

“I told you that you wouldn’t know if you liked it unless you tried…”

“Yes…”

“Did it hurt? I mean, more than you expected?” I asked, and then I grabbed her face, my fingers pressing her cheeks firmly and turned her face to me. She couldn’t bear looking at me. “I want you to look me in the eyes. Obey.”

She complied, “Yes.”

“Did you like it? Me hurting you?”

Carol couldn’t say it. She just looked at me, her eyes wide. It was time for her to assume what she was, and even though her wet pussy was answer enough for me, I wanted her to go through this. She had to understand what being a submissive meant. Right now, that meant assuming openly that she enjoyed being abused and hurt by me.

She bit her lip and furrowed her brows. Carol looked so absurdly cute right now, the light brown bangs of her hair falling over her eyes, all ashamed and not knowing what to do, miles away from the always composed young girl with the perpetual uninterested look I knew from before. Even for a more mature, experienced woman, talking about things openly like this would be a little too much. For her it was influencing directly on the way she would see sex - and herself - for the rest of her life.

Did I regret pushing her like this? Never, but I felt an extreme affection for her right now, her little body still trembling in my arms, where I could feel her soft, tender skin, and the way her whole self was shaking. I took her hands and passed her arms around my neck, then I reached for her pert, beautiful ass and I lifted her, making her pass her legs around my waist. She gasped. I put her against the wall again, on her back, and I got my face close to hers, my lips lightly touching hers. Her small breasts pressed on my chest, her hard nipples grazing on my skin.

“I won’t let him do anything to you, I promise, no matter what your answer is,” I told her. “But you have to tell me. Now.”

Carol gasped, then she looked me in the eyes, and said “I can’t know… I can’t differ what was… Sex and what was pain… But yes, I liked it.” She took a deep breath and continued, looking down again, “Yes, I’d let you do this to me over and over again if I could.”

“So you are a little whore after all… My little whore,” I said while kissing her again, slowly, guiding her to part her lips and let me explore her tasty little mouth with my tongue.

She didn’t know what to do at first, but surprisingly, even with all the risk of getting caught, I wasn’t in a hurry. I took my time, and I let her figure out how kissing a man properly worked. Locked between me and the wall, my arms and hands all over her little body, Carol started feeling more relaxed, even her breathing went back to normal. Soon I was hard again.

“Babe, I am going to fuck you again,” I whispered in her ear.

She gasped loudly, already feeling the tip of my cock touching her crotch, then she laid her head on my shoulder, looking at me, completely at ease. “Do I deserve love?”

I smiled. “Is that you asking me to be gentle to you?”

“Dom… No.” Her voice back to her original whispery silky voice. “I don’t care if it hurts. It’s worth it.”

“Is it worth it escaping my father?” I adjusted my position so the tip of my cock was at the entrance of her warm, hurt pussy.

“It is worth it being yours. I believe you when you say you’ll take care of me. Can you show me the difference one day? Aaaaauughh!” She groaned beautifully when I used her body weight to impale her with my cock again, first the head, and then forcing her down, pushing more in. “Guuuuuuhh! Ahhhhhh!” She nestled her face on my neck again, visibly resisting not to ask me to stop, or to cry and wake up the entire house.

“I will show you how sex without pain works, just not today. That is not possible while you are still a virgin. I’ll show you everything…” I said starting to move in and out of her, her young pussy viciously gripping my cock. “I will make you taste every single kind of pleasure imaginable.”

I moved her up and down, moved my pelvis to make the movement consistent, hard, rough. Almost my whole length moving in and out of her. She held me tight around the neck while groaning beautifully, painfully. Panting, she showed me through her voice when it was hurting… And soon I could feel pleasure in her voice. Probably due to the fact that I was trying to avoid going too deep inside of her now, hitting her cervix. I was able to give her what she wanted after all, and I couldn’t say that she didn’t deserve it. Carol’s groans and cries through gritted teeth mixed with moans in her less urgent purring voice. We could hear the sloshing, sucking noises her pussy produced. In and out, in and out inside my little sister, my little whore, my plaything.

I felt my cock start to pulsate again almost at the same time her groans started to become more and more urgent and I felt her start to twitch inside, something new to me. It was like she was spasming already, cumming. Her moans stopped, her breathing also, she just hugged me with all her strength and shook all over while I kept fucking her mercilessly, deeply, while her pussy forcefully stretched again to let me in, all of me. I felt myself cumming and I grunted, jolting once again while hitting hard against her so accessible cervix. When I felt the last of it coming I pushed it deep, hard inside of her, non-stop, until I got deeper than I had been once before.

Carol only trembled, her arms and legs tensed around me, little and indistinguishable moans coming out of her mouth “Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah…”. I pulled my cock out of her slowly and when the big, bulbous head of my cock popped out of her, she gasped. She seemed in shock somehow, sharp, short breaths, closed eyes and no other reaction, even when I touched her face and asked her if she was alright. She took a long minute to come back to me, still spasming, convulsing almost, so I decided to take her to my room. Fuck it if somebody saw the cum and blood on the floor or her white towel on the floor before I could come back to take care of it.

I laid her sideways in my bed, her head in my pillow. Her pussy and legs, just like my cock and my own legs were a mess, cum, but mostly blood, everywhere. I filled my bathtub with nice and hot water and went back to take her. She was awake, but wasn’t talking to me. Carol looked at me through half open eyes, her long and thick lashes hiding most of it, her full red lips parted and shaking. I laid her down on top of me in the bathtub and she winced, crying when the water touched her most private part, relaxing only after a good thirty seconds.

I just ran my hands all over her, exploring every single inch of skin of her amazing little body, while I said soothing words on her ear, telling how perfect she was, what a good work she had done by not screaming while I fucked her tight little pussy for the first time, and saying how surprised I was to feel her reaching an orgasm with me. I had never heard of a girl reaching an orgasm by penetration on her first night, especially in a situation like this. Also reassuring words, letting her know that I meant everything I said. I was very satisfied, and I couldn’t ask for more than this, so I just tended to her, caressed her, cleaned her, but she never came back to me completely that night, nor did I want to. Exhausted, Carol fell asleep inside the tub while I caressed her, then laid numbly on my bed when I dried her. I rolled her on one of my comforters and silently brought her to her bed. I never meant to really wake her up.

“I hope you don’t regret this in the morning,” I whispered while kissing her good night.

“Never.” She answered in an almost inaudible mumble.

-It’s a new day, it’s a new life-

It was still two in the morning when I decided to call Isabel because one, a small part of me felt like I had betrayed her, even though we got a divorce two weeks ago. Two, I had to tell her the plan I made while still deep inside Carol.

I didn’t care, I just called her. If she didn’t pick up, it would be fine. If she said I was crazy for calling her at this time and hour, it would be fine. If she cursed me for even suggesting what I had in mind, fuck it, I’d try it any way. She could call the police on me for all I cared, it would still be worth trying.

“Hello.” Isabel picked up before twice, and she sounded pretty much awake.

“Hey Bells. It doesn’t sound like I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. I was absolutely awake… Thinking,” she sounded different somehow, restrained

“I have to tell you something,” I said, before she could ask me not to call her again.

“Me too, and I would like to start, if you let me…” She said, her voice calm and warm in a way I couldn’t remember hearing before.

“Ok. Go ahead. But, please, whatever it is, let me tell you what I want later. Deal?”

“Deal.”

And then the call went silent. I could only hear her breathing.

“Isabel? Are you still there?"

“Dom, you know how hard it is for me to compromise, to change in any way. It is hard for me to imagine that there's something missing in me… So it was hard to make this decision”

She was telling me her reasons for the divorce again, probably trying to explain why I shouldn’t call her anymore and make this even harder. I couldn’t stop remembering the first time I saw her, that stunningly beautiful Portuguese exchange student, how our interests lined up immediately, how free spirited and how focused she was in making the world bow to her will. She was the most beautiful girl I had seen in my entire life, the way that her porcelain skin contrasted her absolutely black, sleek and long hair, and her silvery eyes always keen, always smart… After eight years, now, I was losing her for real.

“Bells…”

“Dom, let me finish please. This is already hard enough as it is,” she said, her demanding tone back for a second, yet I had never heard so much emotion in her words before, not even when we sat to talk about the divorce for the first time. “I’ll try to be direct… Dom, I want our life back. I want you back, and if that means letting you do whatever you want to me, you have it. You can turn me inside out for all I know as long as it means being back together,” she finished with a shivering voice.

Fuck.

Isabel told me how alone she felt without me, how she always thought we were together because of the deal alone, and how she felt she was wrong. Thinking straight, it was very hard to believe that two people would be together for eight years based on a deal alone. Also, when that fatidic night happened, when she passed out because I forced her to have non-stop orgasms and two weeks later we filed divorce, Isabel admitted to having felt really scared for a long time. Then she admitted to me that she couldn’t stop thinking about that night.

I was having trouble believing that that was actually happening, and I still had my plan to tell her. I wanted to go back to her immediately. Just the thought of having Isabel at my mercy, finally, was making me crazy. But I could do even better, for me and for her. Now I had Carol. Now *we* had Carol, I just had to convince her both that this could work, which I was certain I could.

-In the morning-

I woke up and looked at myself in the silver framed body mirror at the room I was at. It felt like I was a different person today. All of my most primitive instincts were awakened last night, everything I understood as being me was out there for the two women of my life to see. I looked at the mirror to see the guy that was bringing two of the most beautiful women to grace this planet to their knees.

What I saw was the same thirty-two year old guy, with brown hair combed back without a line, cold green eyes, and a trimmed body molded by years of fighting practice and

There were six people at the wooden table on the porch that morning having breakfast. My father and his whore of a wife, Natalia. Carol, who had the most impressive poker face I had ever seen, as nobody would ever imagine that pretty young girl elegantly sitting there having french toasts, was being harassed by an old bastard that pretended to be her father, had been psychologically abused by her mother since birth, and, especially, that she had been brutally ravished last night at the corridor right next to this very same table. Corridor that I went back to clean yesterday after talking to Isabel on the phone for some good two hours. Also, there were a couple of my father’s friends with us. They had spent the night here, in one of the guest rooms at the first level because they were too drunk to drive two blocks down the street.

So I was fucking Carol against the wall of their room without knowing it. Apparently they were drunk enough to pass out… Or they are as good as Carol in hiding what they know.

My father was already inviting everybody for another trip on his yacht, and I noticed how tense Carol got immediately. So I took the chance to use the visitors to my advantage. “Father, I won’t be able to accompany you. Isabel is coming here, she arrives in one hour or less. It seems like my marriage has not ended yet.”

My announcement was followed an unison “Oh!” of approval and fake excitement. I saw Carol’s eyes widen, staring at me, almost in shock. What didn’t help her maintain a strict face when I followed with “So I would also ask you to let Carol here to make me company while she arrives. You know my wife loves all of you, but she has special affection for my sister.”

This was true. The last time they saw each other, Carol wouldn’t leave Isabel’s side unless her mother came and demanded that she followed her to go entertain her stupid guests. Even so, it was all over my father’s face how wary he was. I didn’t care, as long as he let her stay. I would insist if he didn’t.

But he did. After the guests, The Thompsons, came to congratulate me on fixing my marriage, he wouldn’t spoil the mood by contradicting me and forcing her daughter to go on a trip with them in which, they already knew, she would get sick.

They left. I passed quickly by Carol on my way to the kitchen and told her to go change to make me company at the pool. As distraught as she looked, she obeyed. I got to the kitchen and called Edgard, or chief of staff, told him that the yacht trip would take at least three hours and that both him and the rest of the employees were off for the morning. I also told him that I’d be at the pool, not to be disturbed. He understood the seriousness of my tone, nodded, and disappeared from sight, along with all the other three or four staff members.

Carol came back on her white bikini only, no kindle or beach wrap today. She had a cold look on her face and sat beside me without looking me in the eyes. It was obvious that she felt betrayed. I calmly sipped on my whiskey, and let her stay in silence by my side for about five minutes.

“Nothing’s changed,” I said, finally looking at her.

“How can you say that?” She answered, still looking forward, straight face but tears in her eyes.

“Carol, Isabel knows. She knows it all.”

The young girl looked at me, her eyes wider than ever, lips parted in surprise.

“I called her yesterday to tell her about you, but she wants me back. I told her that the only way for this to happen is to accept you in our lives. Come here.” I said tapping on my lap. She breathed deeply, looking reluctant. “Come, don’t make me ask again.”

She got up, took three steps, and sat on my lap. I pulled her closer, made her lay down over my chest and caressed her long and wavy brown hair.

“I won’t let you go, you are mine. You are meant to stay with me.”

“B-But how? You have Isabel!” Her soft voice sounded lost, betrayed.

“You just have to let Isabel have you too, and I’ll have you both.”

She put her hands over my chest and propped herself up a bit to look me in the eyes, “What?” She asked with her face full in incredulity.

“Exactly what you heard. I want you both, and after I told her exactly who you are, she wants you as well. If you follow my instructions, you’ll be living with us in no time and we will all have what we wished for. We’ll give you a wonderful life, anything you ever dreamed about, as long as you belong to us. What do you say?” I finished while holding her by the waist, my hard on completely noticeable beneath her, and then I kissed her softly on the lips.

With her face still close, or noses touching, she whispered “Yes. If Isabel would have me.”

“She will, there’s no way she can resist you if I couldn’t.”

It took one hour for Isabel to get there. I took this time to make Carol tell me anything she knew, whatever she could, about my father and the way she treated her, what she had already done to her and how she was so sure he wanted to bed her. As I told her not to hold anything, so she did. She told me of every single time he “not intentionally” touched her body, her pert and beautiful butt or her little and beautiful young breasts. Carol told me he used to get inside her bedroom while she changed clothes as soon as she had her first period, that he would even walk inside her bathroom while she showered, pretending he was just giving her orders that couldn’t wait her to finish before they were heard, and that he had a monthly report from her gynecologist, a friend of his, that would tell him thoroughly every single detail of the visit. It was one other way he found to be sure she would stay a virgin. Keeping the girl locked inside the house, being home-schooled, not giving her any money ever and tracking her virtual life using company resources weren’t enough. All of those were information valuable to me and made me sure of what I had to do.

When Isabel finally got there, there was an undeniable mix of feelings. I was curious on how this would go, I couldn’t decipher Isabel’s expression, and Carol, even though she visibly tried hard not to, looked absolutely nervous. Isabel walked to the pool wearing her big and stylish black sunglasses, a light sleeveless gray blouse, and a tight and black designer label pair of pants. Tall, slender, gorgeous and intimidating as always to other women, Carol stayed where she was, sitting on her white pool chair, while I got up and walked to my once-again-wife.

I wrapped her in my arms, her waist as thin as always, and I kissed her, what she reciprocated immediately. “I missed you,” I said.

“I missed you too,” she said back, and looked at Carol from over my shoulder, “Hi, Carolina.”

“Hi… Isabel,” Carol replied not knowing how to react.

Isabel inhaled deeply, her eyes closed, and then she asked, “Can I talk to her for a moment?”

“What, without me?” I asked.

“Yes, without you. Do you want this to happen or not?” She half scolded me, half provoked me.

“Ok. Do as you wish. Just be careful…”

She glared at me, “Don’t you trust me?”

“With my life,” I answered and let her go her way to Carol, while I went back to the house to get the bottle of whiskey. I felt like I would need the alcohol soon.

Before I left I could see Carol looking at me with her widened, terrified eyes, not knowing what to do. I wanted to help her go through this as easily as possible, but there was no other way I could make this go my way if I didn’t let Isabel act. Also, I did trust her. If I was right about this, if she really had interest in Carol, she would seduce her right away. I just hoped she did.

When I got to the kitchen I filled my glass again and sat for a minute on a chair, just reminiscing about the talk we had yesterday. I was already very excited about trying all the crazy things I always wanted with Carol, and now I had Isabel. The woman which I knew and loved every single inch of her marvelous white skin, and that I had for eight years but never allowed me to have with her more than good sex. She let me have her ass only once, and she hated it. She would stop me and complain any time she would feel any pain, no matter how slightly. Isabel was about pleasure only. She was averse to anything she considered painful, gross or beneath her, which looked like she does, coming from an absurdly rich family who treated her like a princess and being so self-confident, having so high-regard about herself, I understand. Then she calls me and tells me that it is all in the past, that she would comply with anything I wanted to do to her. She used the word anything. Then the word whenever. If this worked out, I’d be in heaven. My heaven, where my women groan in sweet pain and cry in overwhelming pleasure.

I went back after around ten minutes, and the sight I had got me very hopeful. The girls were in a tight, loving embrace, Carol’s face resting on Isabel’s beautiful chest.

Isabel waved to me, “Dom, look at what I found!” she said playfully, then kissed Carol in the lips, which made the girl look very embarrassed, but made her smile shyly, “Can we keep her?”

I got to my chair and sat down. What a beautiful sight those two were, absolutely different from each other and, yet, as gorgeous. They walked towards me still in each other’s arms. Isabel put one hand on her hip and asked, “How can we please you right now, my love?”

I grinned, sipped on my whiskey, and opened my shorts, my big cock standing proud for them to see. “I can think of something.”

Isabel looked at Carol, “Are you up for it? Can you use this beautiful lips of yours?”

Blushing heavily, Carol replied, “I never tried…”

“Go on. Dom is a good teacher. I’ll take care of you while you learn. Good actions should be rewarded.”

I looked at Isabel not knowing what she was talking about, but laughing, very pleased to where this was going.

Carol came to me, swaying her gloriously wide hips, pushed her hair back, out of the way and bent over my crotch, her hands to the sides of the chair. She looked me in the eyes for a moment, as if asking if she should, to what I obviously nodded yes.

She then lowered her head and kissed the tip of my throbbing cock, to which I moaned. Then she licked it, twice, until she felt Isabel unfastening the sides of her bikini panties behind her, which made her look back, from over her shoulder, gasping.

“Focus on what you’re doing,” Isabel ordered with her beautiful, but thunderous voice, always so confident, “No matter what you feel, don’t stop. I want him cumming in your mouth before I make you come.”

Fuck. Me.

That was it. It was happening. I knew it.

Carol looked at me again, brows arched and up. “Swallow it.” I ordered. She parted her lips and put all she could inside her hot mouth. I moaned again, loudly. With the panties out of the way, Isabel knelt behind the young girl and made Carol moan beautifully on my cock with the very first touch of her tongue on her young pussy. “I hope you don’t mind if you taste my cock in there, Bells.” I said mockingly, sipping my whiskey, and letting out an occasional groan while Carol tried things with her tongue.

Isabel looked at me from above Carol’s beautiful butt, “You know I like the taste of your cock. And… I have to tell you… She tastes amazing.” Then she went back to sucking and nibbling on our girl’s pussy, making her moan more and more.

I put my hand over Carol’s head and started moving her up and down, slowly, making her bob her head to the pace I wanted. She started choking every time my cock went deep inside her mouth, but as the good girl she was, she never stopped. By the time I felt myself coming, Isabel already made Carol moan loudly, unashamed, but trembling all over. She came almost at the same time I did, convulsing beautifully and fighting for air while I forced her to drink all of my cum. I came hard, even harder than yesterday, forcing my cock as deep as I could at the end and making her come up choking, gasping, panting.

Soon as had Carol laying on top of me and Isabel sitting right beside me. I could feel Carol’s taste while we kissed, as passionately as ever.

I couldn’t wait to bring those two home, where we could start having even more fun.

I just had to get rid of my father.