Executrix [trigger warning]

[Warning, reader discretion is advised. This chapter is **** and deals in **** subject matter. Do not read if that's not your thing. Seriously, I'm not trying to offend anyone. This is all fantasy and absolutely not meant for any real life situations. Ever. At all. Got it? Ok, you were warned.]

Your wrists are bound behind your back, coarse rope biting into your skin, forcing your elbows together until your chest thrusts out. The bedroom is brightly lit, a fresh day full of promises, and your mind shudders at what it's promising you. You’re alone with your sister, her tight tube top perfectly outlining her pert breasts, her denim shorts riding high on her hips. Her eyes gleam with cruel delight as she approaches you.

“You disgusting fucking pervert,” she sneers, her voice sharp and mocking. She leans close, her breath hot against your ear, her lips brushing your skin as she whispers, “Look how hard you are for your own sister. What a sick fuck.” Your cock strains against the bed, your jeans still pulled down below your ass, where your belt connects you to the footboard. She laughs, low and vicious. She steps back, framing herself in your field of view, her nipples faintly visible through the fabric. “Like what you see, loser?” she taunts, turning to shake her ass, the shorts hugging her curves as she bends slightly, knowing you can’t touch, can’t move, can’t do anything but ache. Your wrists burn, the ropes cutting deeper as you squirm, your chest heaving with shame and need. Lily’s eyes flick to your hard cock, her smile wicked. “Pathetic,” she spits, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. “You’re nothing but a dusgusting pervert, drooling over your own little sister.” She leans in and brushes the pictures off the bed and lays her body next to yours, her nipple inches from your face as she reaches down to your belt. You whimper, your hips twitching involuntarily, and she laughs again, stepping away to leave you trembling, but detached from her footboard.

She drags you by the arm to the bathroom, her nails digging in to your skin, your bound arms useless as you stumble after her. The tiles are cold under your bare feet, the white tub gleaming like a threat under the harsh light.

“Time for your bath, perv,” your sister says, voice dripping with mockery. She removes your pants and grabs your belt, giving your balls a little slap as she stands back up. When you grunt, she pushes you backward, forcing you to sit on the side of the tub. With quick, rough movements, she loops your belt around your thighs, threading it through your bound arms and pulls tight, binding your knees to your chest until you’re curled into a tight, helpless ball. Your body is folded and exposed. That’s when she turns on the faucet, and the tub fills loudly. Your sister sits next to you, steadying you so you don’t fall over. While you wait, she removes her top and you once again see those tits which got you into this mess. Noticing your glance, she rolls her eyes and pulls out the blindfold from her pocket. She must have picked it up from the bed, and your heart sinks as your sight is taken away. Your heart pounds, panic clawing at your chest, but your cock throbs harder, the humiliation twisting into something dark and intoxicating. She kneels beside you, her fingers trailing down your chest, teasing the waistband of your jeans. “Look at you,” she murmurs, her voice mocking but laced with heat. “All tied up, begging for it. You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”

She glides her hand down until it rests on your cock and strokes it slowly, her touch maddeningly light. You moan, your hips bucking, but she slaps your face, hard, the sting sharp against your cheek. “Don’t move, pervert,” she snaps, her fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp. The tub is nearly full now, you realize, because she grabs your hair, tipping you backward. The cold water engulfs you, flooding your nose, your mouth, your lungs burning as you thrash against the ropes. Bubbles stream from your lips, your body screaming for air. Without your arms, you can’t push off, and the belt keeps you curled, your struggles futile as your sister’s laughter echoes above the splashing water. Just as the world starts to fade, your lungs burning, she yanks you up by your hair, water cascading down your face. You ****, gasping, your mind spinning, but she doesn’t give you a moment to recover. “Not yet, loser,” she says, shoving you back under.

She repeats it: drowning you, pulling you up, over and over. 4 times, 6, 10. Each submersion is longer, your lungs searing, your body weakening as you fight to free your arms, loosen the belt, get one gasp of precious air. Your mind fractures, dizziness setting in, turning to vertigo. Your sister’s voice cuts through the haze, mocking, relentless.

“You love this, don’t you? Drowning for your sister like a good little dog.” You don’t respond, your mind barely grasping that she has you above the water. Your gasps are ragged, your cock still hard despite the terror, throbbing while her hand grips your hair. She notices, pulling off your blindfold to reveal the curve of her breasts Inches from your face. “Fucking disgusting,” she says, but her hand wraps around your cock, stroking roughly, her nails grazing the sensitive skin. “But I promised you 30 seconds.”

You moan, loud and ****, your hips jerking into her touch, unable to do anything more. “Please…” you beg, your voice broken, but she only laughs, her fingers slowing down, teasing you to the edge. She leans closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “Times up, big brother. No last cum for you.” Her hand slaps your cock, the pain sharp and electric, making you cry out, but you thrust harder into air, your body begging for release. Seconds from cumming, your body shaking with the intensity, she shoves you back under the water.

The shock is intense, your lungs filling as you thrash, your cock pulsing uselessly, the pleasure cut off and your mind lucid again enough to appreciate. She pulls you up again, your gasps ****, your mind a fog of pain and lust. She leans you in to kiss your lips gently. “One last time,” she says, her hand moving to your cock, but bypassing it and gripping your balls instead, squeezing until you scream.

You’re delirious, your moans a plea, your hips bucking as she crushes your balls, trying to rupture them. “Pervert,” she hisses, her lips brushing yours, her breasts pressed against your chest. She shoves you under, the water flooding your lungs, your balls still being crushed as the world fades to black, her laughter the last thing you hear.