Xmas 2022 - 2 of 12

Christmas Eve at your house. Warm, safe, and familiar. Your Dad isn’t here this year, but that’s OK. You called him earlier.

You sit with your mom in the kitchen, mugs of steaming hot chocolate in front of you both. Everyone is full from dinner. You might open some gifts tonight and the rest this morning.

“I wish I knew what they’d done to you,” your mom says, gazing across the table adoringly. “I never thought you could grow up so fast over one summer.”

“Do I seem that different?” you ask nonchalantly.

“More than you know. So strong and confident. You used to get nervous about every little thing. The only time you were happy was when you were kicking a ball,” she tells you frankly. Your mom can be blunt sometimes.

You laugh. “If you say so,” you reply.

“Where the hell is Kayla? Did she get lost?” your mom asks, glancing at the ceiling.

She’s right. It’s not like Kayla to skip out on this part of the evening.

“I’ll find her,” you say, getting to your feet. You climb upstairs, seeing a flickering light coming from your room. That makes you curious. You stroll down to the door and push it open to find Kayla hunched in front of your computer with one hand in her jammy bottoms, her arm moving rhythmically.

She hears the door squeak and leaps to her feet, turning around.

“I’m sorry,” she says, bright red and embarrassed. That’s so not like her, but to be fair, you have never caught her masturbating in your room before. It’s an unprecedented situation, and she doesn’t need to tell you what happened. You know. She tells you anyway.

“I think I opened your mail,” she says sheepishly.

Yes. And what she found was so striking that she couldn’t look away.

You calmly join her in front of the computer and look at the live stream from Ela and Zofia’s home in Poland. Just as you instructed, Zofia is tied to the bed, naked except for a pair of fuzzy reindeer antlers. Brutal nipple clamps are in place and a hardcore ball gag has drool streaming down her cheeks. She’s blindfolded.

Ela, with her naked hindquarters pointed straight at the camera, is between her older sister’s legs with a vibrator, teasing her.

“I’m sorry,” Kayla says a bit shakily. “I shouldn’t have looked at your private mail. That’s on me.” As she says it, her eyes are on the screen.

“It’s OK,” you tell her. “That’s the point of a show. People are supposed to see it.”

She’s not really listening. “Uh, OK,” she says, starting to move away.

“Sit,” you tell her sharply, putting your hand on her head and pushing her into the chair. Startled, she sits. She looks up at you, shocked and confused.

“Finish what you were doing,” you say, gesturing toward the screen, where Zofia’s body jerks and spasms. Her shrieks are muffled by the gag. “They’re putting on a show. It’s rude to walk out halfway through.”

“Oh,” Kayla says, licking her lips. Seconds pass. She stares at you. “You’re… staying?”

“It’s my show, isn’t it?” you ask her brusquely. “I’m letting you watch it. You’re welcome.”

“What have you done with my sister?” Kayla asks, looking stunned.

You turn her head firmly toward the screen. She stares.

“Was that a thank you?” you ask.

“Yes! Thank you,” she squeaks.