The rules were simple. When you collected her from wherever she was, you got to bring her home and fuck her. If you could get her to cry out your name, she was “reclaimed.”
The next time you failed to make her cry out your name, she was “emancipated” and would be free to seek out other lovers. She’d send you little videos of her calling out their names while she came. Eventually she’d get bored of them and ask you to “reclaim” her.
But this time had been ridiculous. She’s been away a whole month. It had never lasted more than a week. In the videos she’d been moaning “Daddy.” Must be a new kink. Her own father was long dead. Maybe that’s how these kinks got started? You followed the GPS coordinates she’d sent, eventually pulling up to an all too familiar address. …it couldn’t be…your own father’s house.
When your sister had bet a ‘facial’ in the poker game you were pretty sure she meant giving someone a treatment at the spa where she worked. Maybe she had, but as soon as your friend joked that it would be pretty weird for her brother to have to nut on her face she just winked at you and said ‘on the contrary, I think he just got new motivation to win.’
But you’d lost. You tried to be chivalrous and challenged your friend to an arm wrestling contest to call it off. When you pathetically lost that immediately he’d charged you with filming the event and sending it to her and him.
“We need some proof, after all. And I think I deserve some fap material for beating you two wonder-twins so thoroughly.”
“Okay, just a moment, bro. I need to take this top off. Don’t want to get it stained. Besides, if I’m going to be masturbation fodder, I want it to be good.”
ProblemCollectionLove 