The living room walls press in on like a vice as I stare at the front door Emily walked through half an hour ago. Her perfu still lingers in the air, expensive and intoxicating, mixing with the fading scent of her lipstick from our goodbye kiss. I can still see her in that stunning red dress, the fabric clinging to every curve like it was painted on, her white hair styled in elegant waves that caught the light when she turned to blow one last kiss.
My stomach twists itself into knots, not from hunger but sothing darker. Images flash through my mind unbidden, Emily smiling at so faceless man the way she smiles at , Emily's red dress pooling on so hotel room floor, Emily's body pressed against a stranger's.
I grab the remote and turn on the TV, desperate for any distraction. The noise barely registers as my mind continues its cruel slideshow.
"Watching sothing good?"
Holly's voice makes jump. She stands in the archway between the hall and living room, one hip cocked against the doorfra. Her hair is down for once instead of in its usual ponytail, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts.
"Not really," I say, gesturing vaguely at the screen where so cooking competition plays on mute. "Just background noise."
Holly studies with her piercing blue eyes.
"Mom left for work, huh?" she asks, though it's clearly not a question. Her lips curve into that not-quite-smile I've co to recognize.
"Yeah," I reply, keeping my voice neutral. "She'll be back late."
Holly nods, her eyes never leaving my face. "And you have your shift at the convenience store tonight, right? The one by my campus?"
"Yeah. Graveyard shift. I won't be back until morning."
"So we're both alone here for a while," she says, sothing flickering across her expression too quickly for to interpret.
"I guess so," I answer, fidgeting with the remote. The silence between us feels charged, like the air before a storm.
Holly moves across the room and drops onto the couch right next to , so close our thighs touch. The sudden proximity makes shift uncomfortably, but there's nowhere to go, I'm already pressed against the armrest.
"I need to show you sothing," she says, her voice unnervingly calm. She pulls her phone from her pocket, tapping the screen with practiced efficiency.
"What is it?" I ask, as another knot of unease forms in my stomach.
Holly doesn't answer. She simply turns the phone toward , her expression unreadable behind those wire-rimd glasses.
The video starts playing, and my world collapses.
It's , unmistakably , on top of Holly on this very couch. My hands are wrapped around her throat as I thrust into her with violent intensity. My eyes are closed, face contorted in what looks like rage, while Holly's expression beneath is pure, undiluted fear. Her mouth opens in what must be a scream, but there's no sound accompanying the footage.
My lungs forget how to work. Blood drains from my face as I watch myself commit an act I have no mory of performing.
"What the fuck?" I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I…"
Holly pauses the video, freezing the horrifying image on screen. "The other night we had dinner together? When my Mom gave us all that wine?"
The carbonara dinner. The night everything went fuzzy. The strange, disjointed mories that never quite connected.
I stare at the frozen image, my stomach turning to ice. The evidence is right there, my face, my body, my hands around Holly's throat. I don't rember any of this. How could I not rember sothing so horrible?
"Holly, I'm so sorry," I choke out, disgust rising like bile in my throat. Tears blur my vision as the full weight of what I've apparently done crashes down on . "I would never... I don't understand how I could..."
Holly quickly slides her phone into her pocket and reaches for , her fingers gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. Her touch is surprisingly tender, nothing like the reaction I'd expect from soone showing evidence of my assault against her.
"Shhh, baby," she whispers, leaning closer. "Daniel, this isn't a video of you raping ."
I blink in confusion, my breath catching. "It's... It's not?"
Holly's lips brush against my ear as she whispers, "It's blackmail."
"What?" I gasp, jerking away from her touch like it's burned . My brain scrambles to process her words as I stare at her, mouth agape.
"I want you, Daniel," Holly says, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. Her eyes hold mine, unwavering and intense behind those wire-rimd glasses. "I've wanted you since that night."
"No," I shake my head, pushing myself further into the corner of the couch. "Absolutely not." Original content can be found at novel-fire
She smiles, not her usual calculating smirk, but sothing softer, almost predatory. "Yes," she counters simply, as if my refusal is rely a minor obstacle to overco. "I think we could be good together."
I frown, my stomach churning with disgust and confusion. "Holly, this isn't how... You can't just threaten with a video of sothing I don't even rember doing and expect to fall into your arms."
"I want a relationship with you," she says, leaning closer. Her hair falls forward, framing her face in a way that highlights how much she resembles her mother. "Is that so terrible?"
"You can't blackmail your way into a relationship," I say firmly, finding strength in my outrage. "And I'm not going to cheat on Emily. I love her."
Holly scoffs, rolling her eyes as she leans back slightly. "Mother is cheating on you right now," she says, gesturing toward the door her mother walked through earlier. "She's probably on her back in so hotel room while we're having this conversation."
The familiar twist of jealousy and arousal hits my gut, but I push it aside. "That's not cheating," I say. "That's her job. She loves . It's completely different."
Holly throws her head back and laughs, the sound sharp and brittle in the quiet room. "Oh my god, you actually believe that, don't you?" She shakes her head, looking at with sothing like pity. "You poor, naive boy."
"I'm not naive," I snap, anger flaring hot and sudden. "I know exactly what Emily does, and I accept it. That's what love is, accepting soone completely."
Holly tilts her head, her eyes narrowing behind those wire-rimd glasses. "I wonder what my mother would think if she saw this video," she says, her voice casual but with an undercurrent of nace that makes my blood run cold.
My heart slams against my ribs. "What are you talking about?"
She leans closer, her breath warm against my cheek. "The truth is, I drugged both of you that night. Waited for Mom to pass out, then I tricked you into thinking I was her. You were so out of it, you couldn't tell the difference."
The room spins around as her words sink in. Flashes of mory start clicking into place, the strange dreams I had, waking up next to Emily with no recollection of how we got to bed, the unfamiliar ache in my muscles.
"Why?" I manage to choke out. "Why would you do sothing like that?"
Holly stares at the ceiling for a mont, considering my question. Her fingers toy with the hem of her t-shirt as she formulates her answer.
"It doesn't really matter why I did it," she finally says, turning those intense blue eyes back to . "What matters is that I've realized sothing since then. I want you, Daniel. Not just to hurt my mother anymore. I actually want you."
My stomach churns with disgust. This girl, my girlfriend's daughter, drugged and violated in ways I can't even fully rember, and now she's threatening to use it against ? Against her own mother?
"Please, Holly," I say, my voice breaking. "Don't do this. I just want a simple relationship with your mother."
"Simple?" She laughs, the sound sharp and bitter. "There's nothing simple about being with a prostitute."
"I'm begging you," I whisper, feeling utterly helpless. "This isn't right. You know it isn't."
Holly's eyes narrow, calculating and cold. Without breaking eye contact, she reaches for the hem of her oversized t-shirt and pulls it over her head in one fluid motion.
"Jesus Christ!" I scramble back, nearly falling off the couch. "What are you doing?"
Her body is perfect, smooth skin catching the afternoon light as she stands before in just her shorts and a simple blue bra. I feel a surge of anger rising in my chest, hot and sharp, overriding the montary shock.
"Life isn't fair, Daniel," she says, her voice eerily calm as she reaches behind to unhook her bra. "But I'll make this easy for you."
I turn my head away. "Put your clothes back on. This isn't happening."
"Look at ," she commands, and when I don't, she moves closer. "I said look at ."
Against my better judgnt, I glance back. Her bra is on the floor now, her breasts smaller than her mother's but still perfect. The resemblance to Emily is painful, sa blue eyes, similar facial structure. The sight makes my stomach churn with disgust, not desire.
Holly drops to her knees in front of , her hands moving to my belt buckle.
"I'm thinking we start simple," she says, working my zipper down with practiced efficiency. "Fuck buddies. Whenever Mom's not around, we fuck. That's it."
I grab her wrist, stopping her. "Holly, no. This is insane."
She looks up at through her lashes, a perfect imitation of her mother's seductive gaze. "So you'd rather I show Mom the video of you raping her daughter?" Her free hand yanks my pants down to my ankles before I can react. "That's what she'll see, you know. You on top of , choking while you take what you want."
"I didn't…" My protest dies in my throat as she frees from my boxers. Despite my disgust, my body betrays with the beginnings of arousal, a physiological response I have no control over.
"Your mouth says no," Holly murmurs, "your cock is far more honest."
"Your mother won't believe you," I say, the words spilling from my mouth even as I recognize their hollowness. The video was undeniable, my face clearly visible as I committed acts I have no mory of.
Holly laughs, the sound sharp and confident. "Of course she'll believe it." Her fingers trace patterns on my thigh, inching closer to my cock. "But honestly, showing Mom is just one option. I could upload it online, you know? Let everyone see Daniel Anderson forcing himself on a helpless girl."
My blood turns to ice. "You wouldn't."
"I absolutely would." Her eyes hold mine, unflinching behind those wire-rimd glasses. "I could ruin your entire life with a single click. Hell, I could take it to the police." She tilts her head, considering. "How many years do you think they give for rape these days? Especially with such clear video evidence?"
The walls seem to close in around as panic floods my system. My future, my freedom, everything I've built with Emily, all balanced on the whim of this calculating girl kneeling between my legs.
"Why?" I manage to choke out. "Why are you doing this?"
Holly's expression shifts, sothing almost vulnerable flickering across her features before it's gone, replaced by determination.
"Because I want you," she whispers, and before I can respond, she takes into her mouth.
The sensation is overwhelming, warm, wet, and completely wrong. I grip the couch cushions, torn between pushing her away and the primal response my body is having. Her technique is clumsy, unpracticed, nothing like the expert touch I'm used to from Emily. Yet there's an intensity to her movents that's undeniable, she gags slightly as she takes deeper, clearly pushing past her comfort zone in her eagerness.
My mind screams to stop this, but my body responds to her frantic actions. She pulls back, gasping for air, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my cock before she dives back down with renewed determination. Her inexperience is obvious in the uneven rhythm, but what she lacks in skill she makes up for with raw enthusiasm.
Emily's face flashes in my mind, her gentle smile, her tender touch, and suddenly, a wave of nausea crashes over . What am I doing? The sick feeling in my stomach intensifies, and I feel my body responding, my erection softening despite Holly's desperate efforts.
She pulls back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, frustration etched across her face.
"Really?" she snaps, her blue eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "You feel that guilty that you're going to struggle to keep it up?"
"Holly, I…" I begin, but she cuts off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I watched you two a few nights ago, you know," she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
Before I can process what she's saying, she pushes back against the couch cushions and climbs on top of , her bare thighs straddling mine. The weight of her feels wrong, unfamiliar, nothing like the comforting pressure of Emily's body. I could push her off , but I don’t want to hurt her, or worse, what if I set her off and she uploads the video?
"What was it you two were dirty-talking about?" Holly asks, her face inches from mine. "Sothing about how you like to imagine my mom getting fucked by other n?"
My breath catches in my throat. The private monts between Emily and were supposed to be sacred, ours alone.
Despite my disgust at this situation, my body betrays again. Blood rushes south as unbidden images of Emily with another man flood my mind, her white hair splayed across hotel pillows, her crimson lips parted in pleasure for soone who isn't . My heart pounds harder against my ribs, the conflicting emotions of jealousy and arousal twisting together into sothing dark and primal.
"Disgusting," Holly mutters, but her eyes gleam with triumph as she reaches between us, wrapping her fingers around my hardening length.
Before I can stop her, she positions herself and sinks down, taking inside her in one swift movent. The sudden heat and tightness is overwhelming. A gasp escapes my lips as she settles fully onto , her inner walls gripping like a vise.
"Wait," I manage to say, my hands finding her hips to hold her still. "I don’t want this."
"You don't have a choice," Holly hisses, her eyes boring into mine. "Either you do this, or I destroy your entire life."
I stare up at her, feeling the weight of her threat crushing down on . Her eyes aren't just cold, they're empty, like looking into the void itself. She's not bluffing.
My resistance crumbles. My hands, which had been trying to hold her still, fall limply to my sides in defeat.
"That's it," she whispers, a victorious smile spreading across her face. "Now you understand."
She takes my right hand and places it firmly on her breast. The softness beneath my palm makes sick with self-loathing.
"Just enjoy it, Daniel," she says, beginning to rock her hips in a steady rhythm. "It's really not that complicated. Lord knows my mother enjoys her work."
Despite the disgust churning in my stomach, my cock pulses inside her, responding to the ntal image her words conjure, Emily with her clients, professional and passionate. The comparison is twisted, wrong on every level, but my physical response is undeniable.
Holly's movents beco more confident as she feels my involuntary reaction. She rises and falls on , her inexperience evident in her slightly awkward rhythm, but the physical sensation is still overwhelming. Her body grips with surprising tightness, nothing like the familiar embrace of her mother.
"See?" she gasps, her breath coming faster now. "This isn't so bad."
She grips my chin between her fingers, forcing to look directly into those calculating blue eyes. Her nails dig into my skin as she leans down, her face hovering inches from mine.
"Won't it be nice?" she purrs, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Every ti Mom's off getting railed by so stranger, you can be here, railing instead."
A groan escapes before I can stop it, not from pleasure, but from the twisted way her words affect . My body responds with a traitorous throb inside her.
Holly's eyes widen with delight. "Wow, you really do like thinking about that, don't you?" Her hips grind down harder, her rhythm becoming more confident. "Your cock just got so much harder."
"Okay, I get it," I mutter, turning my face away as heat crawls up my neck. I'm caught between embarrassnt at my body's reaction and desperate determination not to give her the satisfaction of seeing how effective her words are.
She doesn't let escape, her fingers still gripping my chin, forcing to maintain eye contact. "Mother's probably on her back right now," she continues, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "So rich businessman spreading her legs, making her moan..."
I close my eyes, trying to block out her words, but they penetrate anyway, painting vivid pictures I can't escape. My hips buck upward involuntarily, drawing a triumphant laugh from Holly.
"That's it," she encourages, her pace quickening. "Think about Mom servicing her client while you service . Like mother, like daughter, right?"
"Stop," I plead, but there's no conviction in my voice. The physical sensation combined with the twisted narrative she's spinning is overwhelming, dragging toward a climax I don't want but can't seem to fight.
"She probably lets them do all sorts of things to her," Holly continues rcilessly. "Things she'd never tell you about. Positions you've never seen her in."
My breathing becos ragged as she rides harder. Her words are like barbed wire wrapped around my brain, each syllable digging deeper. I can't help the physical reaction, but the disgust and self-loathing are overwhelming.
Holly's eyes flash with sothing like triumph as she increases her pace, bearing down on with vicious intensity. Her hair falls forward, framing her face as she stares at with undisguised contempt.
"You're pathetic," she spits, slamming down harder. Each word punctuated by another brutal thrust of her hips. "Look at you, just lying there and taking it."
I turn my face away, unable to et her gaze, but her fingers dig into my jaw, forcing to look at her. The pleasure building in my body feels like a betrayal, my own flesh conspiring against .
"That's all you are," she continues, her voice breathless as her movents grow more frantic. Her expression transforms into sothing almost blissful, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure even as she tears into . "Just so loser cuck being kept like a pet by my whore mom."
She slams down harder, grinding against with punishing force. A moan escapes her lips, the sound incongruously sweet compared to the venom in her words. Her inner walls clench around as her rhythm becos erratic.
"Holly, I'm gonna…" I choke out, panic rising in my chest as I feel the pressure building to an inevitable conclusion. I grab her hips, trying desperately to lift her off .
"Don't you dare pull out," she hisses, pinning my wrists to the couch. "I want to feel you cum inside . Just like you do with her."
Sha burns through as my body betrays one final ti. The release hits like a physical blow, my back arching off the couch as I empty myself inside her, my body shuddering with unwanted pleasure.
"There you go," Holly purrs, riding out my climax with slow, deliberate movents. "Good boy."
When it's finally over, she collapses against my chest, her breath hot and rapid against my neck. I lie there, numb and hollow, staring at the ceiling as reality crashes back in waves of self-loathing.
Holly remains perched atop , her weight pinning to the couch as we both catch our breath. The disgust crawling through feels like ice in my veins, but I can't even look at her face. I stare at the ceiling, wishing I could disappear completely.
"When's your shift?" Holly asks suddenly, not bothering to lift herself off .
I swallow hard, my throat dry and tight. "I think... in like five hours," I manage to say, my voice hollow even to my own ears.
Her lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Perfect. That ans we can go again."
"No," I protest, finding so fragnt of courage. "This can't happen again. I won't…"
"No," Holly cuts off sharply, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "This is our arrangent now, Daniel. You understand that, don't you?"
The finality in her voice hits like a physical blow. Any words of resistance die in my throat as the reality of my situation crashes down on . I'm trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.
I close my eyes, feeling sothing essential breaking inside as Holly continues to hold prisoner beneath her triumphant gaze.
Reviews
All reviews (0)