Bringing home a pet

You walk through the front door with Sofia leaning heavily on your arm, her legs still trembling from the brutal fucking you gave her behind the gym. Katie trails behind like a lost puppy, her field hockey uniform stained with grass and dirt, your cum still drying on her inner thighs. She clutches her gym bag to her chest, her wide blue eyes taking in everything.

"Mom! Dad!" you call out, kicking the door shut. "We're home."

Your mother emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She takes in the scene—Sofia barely able to stand, Katie hovering awkwardly behind you, the obvious smell of sex clinging to all three of you—and just raises an eyebrow.

"Another one?" she asks, nodding toward Katie. "She's cute. Very young looking."

"She's Sofia's teammate," you explain, pulling your sister closer against your side. "Freshman. Got jealous watching me fuck her captain and begged for a turn. I broke her in behind the gym, but she's too fucked out to go home. She's staying the night."

Katie squeaks and blushes deeper, staring at the floor.

Your mother shrugs. "Fine by me. We have extra blankets. Just keep the moaning down tonight—your father has an early meeting tomorrow." She turns back toward the kitchen, then pauses. "Oh, and John? Your sister's been walking funny all week. You're being too rough on her poor little body."

"She loves it," you grin, squeezing Sofia's ass hard enough to make her yelp.

"True," Sofia admits, leaning her head on your shoulder. "I wouldn't want him any other way."

Your mother rolls her eyes and disappears back into the kitchen. You guide Sofia to the couch and push her down gently, then turn to Katie. "Strip," you command. "You're sleeping in my room, and I don't want clothes getting in the way if I decide to use you in the middle of the night."

Katie obeys immediately, her fingers fumbling with her jersey, then her shorts. Soon she's standing naked in your living room, her small body on full display—perky little tits, smooth bare pussy, the slight puffiness between her legs from where you destroyed her earlier.

"Good girl," you nod approvingly. "Go kneel by the couch. You can rest there until I need you."

Katie scurries over and kneels on the carpet next to where Sofia is sprawled, her head bowed, her hands folded in her lap like a proper servant.

Your father comes home half an hour later, loosening his tie and dropping his briefcase by the door. He spots Katie immediately but just nods. "New friend?"

"Freshman from Sofia's team," you say from the kitchen, where you're grabbing a soda. "I'm keeping her."

"Nice," he grunts, heading for his recliner. "Dinner in twenty?"

"Yeah, Mom's making pasta."

The evening unfolds with a surreal domesticity that would seem insane to anyone outside the free use world. Your father watches sports on TV. Your mother hums as she cooks. Sofia lounges on the couch, her head resting on Katie's lap while the freshman strokes her hair absently. And you— you sit in your father's armchair, your cock hardening and softening in cycles as you watch your sister exist.

It's maddening how she does it. The way she bites her lip when she's scrolling through her phone. The way her tank top rides up to show her smooth stomach. The way she kicks her legs back and forth, her panties peeking out from beneath her shorts. She's not even trying to be sexy. She's just... Sofia. Your sweet, unintentionally adorable little sister who makes you want to breed her every time she breathes.

"John, come help me cut vegetables," your mother calls from the kitchen.

Sofia stands up, stretching her arms over her head, her tank top lifting to expose her navel. "I'll help too," she says, her voice soft and melodic.

She pads into the kitchen ahead of you, and you follow like a predator tracking prey. The kitchen is warm, filled with the smell of garlic and tomato sauce. Your mother has her back to you, focused on the stove.

Sofia stands at the counter, a knife in her hand, carefully slicing bell peppers on a cutting board. She's humming to herself, off-key, her hips swaying slightly to whatever song is stuck in her head. Her hair is messy from the day's activities, falling over her shoulder in tangles. She looks small and domestic and perfect.

Your cock is rock hard instantly.

You step up behind her, pressing your body against her back, grinding your erection against her ass. She freezes for a second, then relaxes against you, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Big brother?" she whispers, tilting her head back to look at you. Her eyes are wide and innocent, confused but pleased. "What are you doing?"

"Can't help it," you growl, your hands sliding around her waist, then up to cup her tits through her tank top. "You exist. You breathe. You cut fucking vegetables. And I need to be inside you."

She giggles, a soft, musical sound that makes your balls ache. "I'm helping Mom..."

"And I'm going to fuck you while you do it," you snarl, already pulling her shorts down, freeing her ass. "Keep cutting. Don't stop, or I'll punish you later."

You free your cock and spit on your hand, rubbing it over your shaft. Sofia grips the knife tighter, her knuckles white, and goes back to slicing peppers with trembling hands. She's trying to focus, trying to be good, and it only makes you harder.

You bend your knees slightly and thrust up into her from behind, sheathing yourself in her wet heat in one brutal stroke.

"Oh—" Sofia gasps, her body jerking, the knife clattering against the cutting board.

"Keep cutting," you whisper in her ear, gripping her hips and starting to thrust. "Don't make me tell you again."

She whimpers but obeys, her hand shaking as she tries to slice another pepper. You fuck her slowly, deeply, letting her feel every inch of your cock sliding in and out of her tight pussy. The wet sounds of your fucking are barely covered by the sizzle of the sauce on the stove.

"You're so fucking cute," you grunt, biting her shoulder through her tank top. "Look at you, trying to be helpful, trying to cook, while your brother's cock is buried in your cunt. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

"I—I'm sorry—" Sofia stammers, her breathing ragged, a pepper half-sliced in her hand.

"Don't be sorry," you growl, speeding up, your hips slapping softly against her ass. "Just keep being you. Keep being my sweet, adorable little fucktoy who makes me want to breed her every second of every day."

Your mother turns around, stirring the sauce, and glances at you two. Sofia freezes, her face burning red, your cock still deep inside her. Your mother just shakes her head and turns back to the stove.

"Don't mind me," she says dryly. "Just don't knock her up until after dinner. I need her to set the table."

"Yes, Mom," you grunt, your thrusts getting harder, more ****.

Sofia is trembling now, her whole body shaking, the knife forgotten on the cutting board. You reach around and rub her clit with rough fingers, making her gasp and arch against you.

"Please," she whispers, so quiet only you can hear. "Please cum in me, John. I need it. I need to feel you filling me up."

You slam into her, your hips jerking, your orgasm rushing up your spine. You bite her neck hard enough to leave a mark and explode inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her unprotected womb. Sofia cums with you, her pussy clamping down on you, milking you for every drop, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle her moans.

You stay inside her for a moment, catching your breath, your cock pulsing out the last of your load. Then you slowly pull out, a gush of cum following, splattering onto the kitchen floor and her lowered shorts.

"Clean that up," you command softly, zipping yourself back up. "And finish the vegetables. I'll be in the living room."

You smack her ass hard, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin, and walk out of the kitchen without looking back. Sofia stays bent over the counter for a few seconds, her chest heaving, your cum dripping down her legs, before she shakily pulls her shorts back up and goes back to cutting peppers.

Your father doesn't look up from the TV as you retake your seat. Katie is still kneeling by the couch, her eyes wide, having heard everything.

"Your turn will come tonight," you tell her, grabbing your soda. "For now, be quiet and wait."

She nods, her face flushed, and you settle back to watch the game, your balls already starting to refill, your eyes drifting constantly back to the kitchen where your sweet little sister is finishing dinner with your cum leaking out of her.

Life is fucking perfect.