Saturday morning arrives gray and cool, light rain tapping against the bedroom window. I'm already awake when the clock hits seven, Katie's arm draped across my chest, Hope and Hester sprawled on either side like bookends after last night's marathon.
[Good morning, host. I trust you enjoyed last night's roleplay. I deliberately withheld per-act notifications during the scene breaking the immersion would have spoiled your fun. Consider it a gift. Now that the curtain's closed, here's the full accounting.]
[New multiplier discovered! Roleplaying acts - value = 1.5]
[Roleplay event - "Schoolgirl Detention" per-act breakdown:]
[Hope blowjob (partial undress): 400 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 900]
[Hope vaginal sex, virginity retake (partial undress): 1,000 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 2,250]
[Cumshot in Hope's pussy (partial undress): 600 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 1,350]
[Hope anal sex, virginity retake (partial undress): 1,200 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 2,700]
[Cumshot in Hope's ass (partial undress): 600 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 1,350]
[Hope cleaning blowjob (partial undress): 400 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 900]
[Hester cleaning blowjob: 400 x 1.5 roleplay = 600]
[Hester cunnilingus on Hope (partial undress): 400 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 900]
[Hester - anal cunnilingus on Hope (partial undress): 400 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 900]
[Hester anal sex (partial undress): 1,200 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 2,700]
[Cumshot in Hester's ass (partial undress): 600 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 1,350]
[Katie voyeurism/masturbation (partial undress): 300 x 1.5 state of undress x 1.5 roleplay = 675]
[Hope orgasm x3: +1,500]
[Hester orgasm: +500]
[Total reward: +18,575 | PDP: 67,475]
Considering that I spent 20000 PDP on the hymen restoring pill, last night session was a zero-sum game point-wise. However, recalling yesterday night's wild acts...
Totally worth it!!!
I untangle myself from the pile of limbs and pad to the kitchen. Coffee. Need coffee before my brain starts planning the next move. The apartment smells like sex and sleep - Hope's perfume, Hester's shampoo, Katie's cooking from last night all mixed together. Home.
By eight they're up, showered, dressed. Hope flips pancakes in a t-shirt that barely covers her ass. Hester sets the table in one of my button-downs, buttons done wrong, showing off her collarbone. They move loose-hipped, easy-smiled, still riding that post-fucking glow.
Katie walks in wearing nothing but an apron. She catches my look and grins. "What? It's Saturday."
"You're going to give me a heart attack before the twins even arrive."
"That's the plan." She kisses my cheek, pours herself coffee. "Nervous?"
"About two sixteen-year-old girls who can't do fractions? Please."
"About their mother."
I shrug. "Mary's handled. Pin of Trust is ticking up as we speak. By the time she picks them up, she'll be thrilled."
"The girls themselves?"
I take a sip. "Curious. Innocent. Kiss each other when they think no one's watching." I set the mug down. "Perfect"
Hope slides onto my lap, arms around my neck. "Daddy, can I help with the tutoring?"
"Maybe later, babygirl. Today's about trust. You'll have your turn."
She pouts but nods. Across the table, Hester watches, calculating. She's been quiet since the wedding, learning the hierarchy, figuring out where she fits. Good. My little slutty pet is learning.
...
At quarter to ten, I change. Dark jeans, fitted Henley, sleeves rolled. Approachable. Trustworthy. The kind of man a single mother trusts with her daughters.
The buzzer rings at exactly ten.
Mary's in jeans and a light jacket, hair pulled back. Relaxed. The Pin of Trust and the suggestion spray did their work no wariness in her smile.
"Morning, Ben. Thanks again."
"My pleasure. Come in."
Behind her, two identical faces peer from the stairwell. Dana and Gina step inside, and for a moment I just look.
Fuck me. This is the first good look I've gotten at them that is not through a hidden camera. One eighty tall, toned, D-cups straining their sweaters - Dana in light blue, Gina in pink. Long curly brown hair, blue eyes, full lips. Dana has a small mole above her left eyebrow. That's the only difference between them.
They're nervous. Standing close, shoulders almost touching. Gina's hand brushes Dana's wrist unconscious, habitual.
*System, activate Trust fund. Both twins. And Cat herder. Show me all three's status.*
[Trust fund activated. Duration: 3 minutes. Medium trust increase to Dana Hudson and Gina Hudson.]
[Cat herder active. AOE trust + loyalty, 8ft radius. Affecting: Dana Hudson, Gina Hudson, Mary Hudson.]
Dana Hudson
age:16
Role: Potential Daughter (twin)
Affection: 22
Love: 0
Horniness: 10
Fear: 0
Loyalty: 2
Trust: 31
Virgin: YES
Anal virgin: YES
Oral Virgin: YES
Likes:
Dislikes:
*Thank you, system.*
[You are welcome.]
The whole interaction takes less than a second, then I continue, addressing the three. I smile, warm and easy. "Welcome. Make yourselves at home. Water?"
They exchange that twin telepathy glance. Gina speaks first. "Water would be nice."
Mary follows them in and settles onto the couch. "Don't mind me. I'll just observe."
Katie appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands. "Mary! Good to see you again. This is my daughter, Hope, and her friend Hester - they're here to study together while the tutoring's on."
Hope waves. "Hi."
Hester murmurs a greeting.
"Your girls are gorgeous," Katie says. "Coffee?"
"I'm fine for now."
"Hope, Hester go ahead and start in your room."
The girls disappear down the hall.
Katie sits beside Mary with two mugs anyway, and they fall into easy conversation the building, the neighborhood, school. Mary's guard keeps dropping.
I turn to the twins. "I'm Ben. You've heard about me from your mom but I'd rather hear about you.
What do you two like doing? Besides not math."
Dana and Gina exchange that twin glance. Dana shrugs. "We like swimming."
"School team?"
"Just at the lake. Behind the old mill."
"Nice spot." I lean back. "What's the worst part about math for you?"
Gina speaks up. "When the numbers don't look like numbers anymore. Like when they're under a line."
"Fractions," I say.
"Yeah. That."
I nod. "Fractions are just division you didn't finish yet. And division is just repeated subtraction. Everything breaks down to simple steps. Once you see that, it clicks."
I gesture to the study corner a desk with two chairs, notebooks and pens already set out. "Let's sit.
Show me what you've been working on."
The twins settle in. Dana pulls out a worn textbook. Gina uncaps a pen, waiting.
I stand to the side of the desk, in easy view of both. Papers spread. Equations half-solved. I scan their homework the mistakes are consistent, which means the fix is straightforward.
"Alright. Ready when you are."
They exchange a glance. Nod.
*System, activate Mentor. Both twins.*
[Mentor activated. 8 minutes. Dana Hudson, Gina Hudson.]
"A fraction is a part of a whole the top number tells you how many parts you have, the bottom number tells you how many fit in one whole and if you divide the top by the bottom you get a decimal, and every decimal times a hundred is a percentage, same number three different outfits, pick whichever works for you."
I keep going - improper fractions, mixed numbers, equivalent fractions. Five minutes in, Dana's answering without hesitation. Seven minutes, Gina's correcting her sister's math.
When the skill ends, they stare at their worksheets like I've performed a miracle.
"How did you...?" Dana looks up. "I actually get this."
"You're smart. You just needed someone who could explain it."
She blushes. Gina blushes too.
On the couch, Mary watches. Leaning forward, arms on her knees, staring surprised at her girls.
Katie touches her arm. "See? He's got them."
"I know, but -"
"First time's the hardest. I sat through Hope's whole first session too. By the second one, I was dropping her off and enjoying a quiet hour to myself."
Mary hesitates. The twins are happily working, heads down, pencils moving. They haven't looked up once.
"Go," Katie says, warm. "He's got them."
A long pause. Then Mary stands. 'Two o'clock?"
"Two works."
She gives the twins one last look they're fine and lets herself out.
The door clicks shut. I let the silence settle, then take them in properly.
Knee-length pleated skirts - Dana's in navy, charcoal for Gina - matching the sweaters. Light blue and pink over white collared shirts. D-cups straining the fabric. When they sit, the skirts ride up just above the knee. Toned calves. Good genes.
I catch Katie's eye. She nods barely a movement and stands.
"I'm going to start lunch," she says, casual. "Need anything before I hide in the kitchen?"
"We're fine."
"Shout if you need me."
She disappears down the hall. The apartment settles into quiet.
Just me and the twins.
*System, buy three aerosol bombs.*
[Three aerosol bombs purchased. 30,000 PDP deducted. Current PDP: 38,425.]
I lean against the desk, casual, letting them settle into the silence. Then I begin.
"Before we dive into math, I want you to understand something." I keep my voice low, even. "Being here is about more than grades. You're safe here. You can relax."
*Deploy bomb one.*
[First aerosol bomb deployed. 8ft radius. Duration: 3 minutes.]
Their faces go slack for a fraction of a second then smooth over.
"You feel completely safe and relaxed here with me. You enjoy my attention and you look forward to coming back next Saturday. You trust me and you'll do what I tell you because I genuinely want to help you."
Dana's shoulders drop. Gina's breathing slows.
*Deploy bomb two.*
[Second aerosol bomb deployed. 8ft radius. Duration: 3 minutes.)
"We're going to spend a lot of time together and during our sessions my hands on your body anywhere during lessons helps you focus it's natural, not improper and your sweaters constrict your movements so you can remove them, and what happens in this house stays in this house, besides your math results no need to tell anyone what we do here."
*Deploy bomb three.*
[Third aerosol bomb deployed. 8ft radius. Duration: 3 minutes.]
"Wearing less during lessons makes studying easier and being lightly dressed or even exposed around me feels normal and exciting, not embarrassing and when you and your sister are alone with me you get aroused, that's normal, you like me, nothing I do or say can be wrong and from now on when you come for tutoring as long as only me and my family are in the house you can remove your panties, no one will know and you'll enjoy the sense of freedom."
They blink. A shared glance the kind that says something shifted but they can't name what.
Gina's hand goes to her collar. Tugs at her sweater. "Is it just me or is it warm in here?"
"A bit," Dana says. She pulls at her own sleeve.
"If you're too warm," I say, "feel free to take your sweaters off."
They exchange that glance. Then Gina hooks her fingers under the hem and pulls it over her head. White shirt underneath. Plain cotton bra visible through the fabric. She folds the sweater and sets it aside.
Dana follows. Light blue sweater off. Same white shirt. Same plain bra. The thin cotton of her shirt shifts across her chest as she settles back into her chair.
"Better?"
They look at each other, then at me. Gina nods.
'Good. Let's get to work."
I pull their worksheets closer and scan the problems. They already know the basics now - Mentor handled that. The rest is practice, confidence, repetition.
"Try this one." I slide a fresh sheet across. "Word problem. You're splitting a hundred dollars three ways.
One person gets a quarter. How much does each get?"
They trade that glance the twin telepathy. Dana scratches her head with the eraser. Gina mutters under her breath.
"A quarter of a hundred is twenty-five," Dana says. "So the first person gets twenty-five. The other two split the rest?"
"Seventy-five split two ways is thirty-seven fifty each, Gina finishes.
'See? You didn't even need me."
Gina tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. In shirtsleeves now, she's more relaxed. The posture tells me everything no tension, no wariness.
Time to test.
I pull a chair from the corner and set it between them. "Scooch over."
They exchange a glance their space is theirs, always side by side, no one in between but they shift apart anyway, making room. Dana's knee brushes mine as she moves. She pulls it back fast. Too fast.
They're nervous. Not because I'm close because being close feels different than it should.
I settle in and spread the worksheets across the desk, then lean back in my chair and place my hands on the inner part of their knees. Casual. Like it's nothing. Dana's breath hitches. Gina goes still.
"Right," I say, voice low, "let's walk through this one."
I keep explaining, nonchalant, my thumbs tracing small circles on the inside of their knees. Bare skin. Warm.
Neither of them pushes me away. As they get used to my touch, courtesy of my suggestions, they relax, and faint pink taints their cheeks, a telltale sign of arousal.
*System, be a dear and notify me of any changes on their stats.*
[Of course, host. I will flag any stat changes as they occur.]
[Dana trust: 39, arousal: 14]
[Gina trust: 36, arousal: 16]
My actions cause their skirts to bunch up, but the girls don't seem to mind. I caress every inch of their inner thighs while keeping up my explanation, though the girls seem more interested in seeing what I am doing to their sister than on the book, or their own legs for that matter.
[Dana trust: 40, arousal: 18]
[Gina trust: 37, arousal: 20]
Emboldened by their acceptance, I almost decide to grab their little cunts, but hold back at the last second.
Neither of them says a word. Neither of them stops me.
I stop moving and remove my hands before standing up, removing my chair and motioning to the girls to bunch up again. I swear that I noticed a pout on their reddened faces, but it disappeared in a flash.
"Try solving the next five exercises on your own. I'll be right here."
As they somewhat sullenly and flushed bend their heads to start solving the equations, I move behind Dana and grab her big, perky tits, causing her to yelp startled. They both turn to look at me, but I smile. nonchalantly, hands on her breasts, and say, "Don't mind me. Go on."
Dana, completely red in the face, turns her head forward and continues working the exercises, while I happily work her lovely firm titties every which way. While I tease Dana's nipples through the fabric, I casually turn my head to Gina. "Gina dear, why don't you unbutton your shirt? It will make the exercise easier. Yup, at least it will for mine...
Gina freezes for a second, then she shrugs and deftly unbuttons her shirt from top to bottom, going as far as untucking it from her skirt so as to reach the last button. Then she keeps working the math, her shirt hanging open, barely covering her breasts and exposing her smooth belly.
I remove my hands from Dana's breasts and pat Gina's head. 'Good girl." Then I move behind her and once again stretch my hands forward and grab her as I did her sister. The sensation is way better with only the bra, and I start lifting, caressing and squeezing her tits to my heart's content.
[Dana arousal: 24, trust: 41]
[Gina arousal: 28, trust: 38]
Seeing her sister's antics and unwilling to be left out, Dana the shy little Dana — firms her expression and, having reached a decision, quickly undoes the buttons of her own shirt. Then, to both mine and Gina's surprise, she removes it completely, stretches backward, purposely arching her chest, and bends forward again to continue her work, leaving Gina's mouth gaping and my cock at full mast.
Damn, it takes two to tango, but three to speed up the steps...
I let the moment hang - Dana's shirt still off, white cotton bra clinging to her curves, Gina's mouth still parted, my cock straining against my pants. Neither moves to cover themselves. Neither looks away.
Good.
"Back to work," I say, voice level. "You've got four more problems."
They bend their heads, Dana's cheeks still aflame, but she picks up her pencil without reaching for her shirt. Gina's eyes linger on her sister's bare back a second longer than necessary before she follows suit.
I stay behind them, my hands sliding forward and slipping under their bras, cupping their bare breasts. Their nipples are rigid and erect against my palms. Both girls gasp softly, their spines straightening, but neither pulls away. Dana's pencil freezes mid-stroke. Gina's breath hitches and comes out shaky.
[Dana arousal: 34, trust: 43]
[Gina arousal: 38, trust: 40]
I squeeze gently, testing, then roll their nipples between my fingers. A soft moan escapes Dana's lips -she clamps her mouth shut immediately, cheeks blazing. Gina bites her lower lip, but a whimper slips through before she can stop it.
[Dana arousal: 40, trust: 43]
[Gina arousal: 44, trust: 40]
I lean closer, my chest brushing their bare shoulders, my hands still working their nipples as I speak. "If you can get these exercises right while I'm doing this, it means you've truly learned what I taught you."
Dana's pencil hovers. She takes a shaky breath, then lowers it to the paper.
It takes all their willpower to keep grinding the math, and for sure I have no intention of making it easier for them after all, I am enjoying myself immensely. Now, it's time for something more risky.
I remove my hands from their breasts, causing them to sigh whether in relief or disappointment, I'm not sure. Then I say softly, "Open your legs so your knees touch."
The girls freeze for a second, and just as I am about to hastily apply the Apology skill to mitigate the damage, a glorious system message appears!
[Dana arousal: 52, trust: 48]
[Gina arousal: 56, trust: 45]
Holy Moly! Talk about a jackpot. As I look stunned at the system message in the corner of my vision, the girls slowly do as instructed and open their legs at about 45 degrees, the right knee of Dana touching the left knee of Gina.
Damn!!! This is going to be epic!
I extend my slightly trembling arms forward and place my hands on their upper inner thighs, just shortly below the crease of the groin, then squeeze gently.
[Dana arousal: 58, trust: 49]
[Gina arousal: 62, trust: 46]
Their breath is in disarray and they are in no condition to keep working, but I ignore it and slowly slide my hands from their thighs to their groins, until they settle lightly over their panties, my fingers slightly pressing against their pubic mounds. The effect is immediate both girls gasp and instinctively close their legs, jailing my hands in the exact place they want to be. Their leg closure presses my hands harder against their pubic mounds, my fingers exerting more pressure than before, causing a second chorus of gasps from my soon-to-be-fucked-I-hope twin potential daughters.
[Dana arousal: 66, trust: 50]
[Gina arousal: 70, trust: 47]
I sigh theatrically and say, "This isn't working. It's obvious that you don't trust me very much...
The girls freeze in panic as my words sink into the instilled suggestions, convincing them they've done something wrong. They exchange a look, nod, and open their legs again wider than before. Gina's eyes glisten as she speaks. "Sorry, Ben. We do trust you. It just... feels weird."
I arch an eyebrow. "Oh? How exactly does it feel weird?"
Gina's cheeks burn as she fumbles for words. "My heart is... racing. My skin is all tingly. And down there it's like... warm. And wet. I don't know what's happening to me."
Dana nods silently beside her, face buried halfway in her shoulder, but she doesn't deny it.
I smirk mentally. My new kittens are getting horny and don't know what to do. Funny - I've seen them touching and kissing each other plenty of times over the hidden cameras, but they never go beyond a caress or a chaste kiss. Looks like some "tutoring" is in order... hehe...
I smile gently and nod understandingly. "I understand. New sensations are like that your brain freezes and you can't think clearly."
Both girls nod.
"Still, you're in no condition to finish the exercises right now, so I must do something about that. Put your pencils down. Let me fix this..."
The moment they obey, I slip my hands inside their panties and cup their cunts directly. Two long, shuddering moans fill the room as they arch their backs, eyes fluttering shut.
[Dana arousal: 78, trust: 56]
[Gina arousal: 82, trust: 53]
Their legs begin to close again, but I keep my voice low and even. "Just lay back, close your eyes, and relax..."
Seeing that they're following my instructions to a T, I start moving my fingers, caressing the outer lips of their labia. Their moans rise in a horny crescendo - they bite their lips, tremble all over, but neither opens their eyes nor closes their legs. They're learning.
[Dana arousal: 90, trust: 57]
[Gina arousal: 94, trust: 54]
Emboldened by their obedience, I keep teasing the outer lips, tracing the seam of their folds, before sliding my fingers higher. My indexes find their clits and I twiddle their little pearls of joy, drawing sharp, broken gasps from both.
[Dana arousal: 99, trust: 58]
[Gina arousal: 99, trust: 55]
I say softly, "Lower your panties, girls, or they'll get wet..."
They don't understand what I mean by wet, but they obey with trembling hands raising their hips and pushing their panties down to mid-thigh, the furthest they can go without closing their legs. They don't dare close them after the last mishap. Then they settle back into the same position: laid back, eyes closed, panting desperately as they await what I have in store for them next.
Seeing that both are at the very edge and very obedient, I deliver the coup de grâce, sliding my fingers from their clits downward, inserting the first knuckle of my index fingers inside their soaked tiny cunts. The response is immediate twin explosions of juice gush from their pussies as their whole bodies go rigid and they cry aloud in the throes of what is the first orgasm of their lives.
[Pervy act detected (Dana): (Potential) daughter masturbation - 200 PDP x (x1.5 Virgin slayer + x1.5 state of undress + x2 first time + x3 first orgasm) = 200 x 8 = 1,600 PDP]
[Dana trust: 68 (+10)]
[Dana love: 5 (+5)]
[Dana base horniness: 15 (+5)]
[Pervy act detected (Gina): (Potential) daughter masturbation 200 PDP x (x1.5 Virgin slayer + x1.5 state of undress + x2 first time + x3 first orgasm) = 200 x 8 = 1,600 PDP]
[Gina trust: 65 (+10)]
[Gina love: 5 (+5)]
[Gina base horniness: 19 (+5)]
I smile and look at them, splayed on the chairs panties lowered above their knees, puddles of juice on the seats, dazed expressions as they pant slowly with their eyes still closed. A thin layer of sweat covers their entire body. The view is erotic, lascivious, and satisfying to my eyes. Now I must just find a way to instill into their minds that if I am capable of doing that with my fingers, what else could I do with other body parts? Hehe...
I retrieve a paper tissue from the box that I thoughtfully placed on the corner of the desk in preparation for today's 'lesson' and clean my juice-covered hands....
I let them be for a couple of minutes as their breathing stabilizes and they exit the post-orgasm daze.
All the while, I'm caressing their heads and telling them softly how good they were, how impressed I am.
Talk about kinky positive reinforcement praising them for having their first orgasm by my tutor's hand! Hehe... Soon they'll have plenty more, to the point that orgasming in their minds will be indelibly linked to my presence...
As the girls recover, they look at each other, then turn away blushing. I pat their heads and gently scold them. 'Now, now you're twin sisters. You share everything. You know exactly how your twin feels at this moment because you feel the same. Where is this shyness coming from?"
My words have the desired effect. The girls slowly turn to look at each other again, then smilingly take each other's hands, intertwining their fingers..
[Dana trust: 76 (+8)]
[Dana love: 8 (+3)]
[Dana loyalty: 5 (+5)]
[Gina trust: 73 (+8)]
[Gina love: 8 (+3)]
[Gina loyalty: 5 (+5)]
Damn, I am really going to enjoy fucking the hell out of them side by side.
But my erection has become unmanageable, and being seen horny right now might have a negative effect. I tell the twins, "Rest up for a bit. I'm going to check on Katie. I'll be right back. With a last pat on their heads and a twin "okay" in unison, I head to the kitchen. Katie and the girls will have to work fast to bring my cock to a manageable state.
I step into the kitchen and close the door behind me. Katie looks up from the counter, and the girls turn from the table. Three pairs of eyes take in the bulge straining against my jeans, and understanding passes between them in an instant.
"Twins are resting, I say, my voice low. "I need to unload, fast and quiet."
Without a word, Hope and Hester slide off their chairs and drop to their knees in front of me. Hope's fingers find my belt buckle, working it open with practiced ease. Hester's hands are already at my waistband, pushing my jeans and boxers down together. My cock springs free, aching and rigid.
Behind me, arms wrap around my waist. Katie presses her body against my back, her breath warm against my ear. "Poor master," she murmurs. "Got all worked up playing with those innocent little twins, didn't you?"
Hope takes me in her mouth without hesitation, her tongue working the head while her hand pumps the shaft. Hester leans in and closes her lips around my balls, sucking gently, her tongue tracing circles against the taut skin.
I grip the back of Hope's head as Katie's voice drips into my ear, low and filthy.
"Imagine them together, master. Those two identical faces looking up at you. Dana on her knees sucking your cock while Gina licks her sister's juices off your fingers. Then you switch them see if you can tell which is which by the feel of their throats."
I groan, my hips starting to move.
"And when you're ready to fuck them," Katie continues, her hand sliding down my chest, "you'll have them side by side, bent over the same desk. Two perfect asses waiting for you. You'll fuck one while the other watches, then swap, make them share every drop..."
"Fuck,' I hiss. The pressure is building, my balls tightening.
"That's it, master. Fill Hope's throat. She's been such a good girl today."
I bury myself deep in Hope's mouth and let go, my cum shooting down her throat in thick pulses. She swallows greedily, her hand still stroking, milking every last drop. Hester keeps her lips wrapped around my balls, sucking softly through my orgasm, drawing it out until I'm trembling.
When I finally pull back, gasping, I look down at Hester. "Sorry, pet. Didn't leave any for you."
She looks up at me, a small smile on her lips. "It's okay, father. Go get us some new sisters." Then she turns and presses her mouth to Hope's, licking the stray cum from her sister's chin and lips with slow, deliberate strokes.
I pull up my boxers and jeans and refasten my belt. "They'll be coming in in a minute. Wash your faces."
I take a breath, adjust myself, and step back into the living room.
I return to the twins. They've recovered now, chatting in low, excited voices probably sharing what each felt. I note with a grin that they're still sitting with their legs wide open. Can't blame them since I never told them to close 'em. Grin...
When I reach them, they turn to look at me. Gina greets me with a big smile. Dana offers a smaller one, hidden behind a shyly lowered head. This one still needs work, but I do enjoy pushing shy little girls out of their comfort zone... Hehe.
"Okay, ladies. Let's take a break. Take off your panties they're obviously in the way and go to the washroom to clean yourselves. Oh, and Gina, lose the shirt. We need the sweat to dry."
The girls obey without hesitation. They stand, remove their panties, and place them on the desk. Gina pulls off her shirt and drapes it over the back of her chair.
As they're about to head to the washroom, I stop them.
"Before you go come here. I think you need a hug."
My words hit them like a punch, making both girls stagger. But they recover quickly and zip into my arms for a three-way hug. With my hands on their backs, I can feel their bodies tremble. I hold them tight, kiss the tops of their heads in a paternal way, and murmur softly, "You did good. You're both good girls. I'm proud of you."
They relax against me. I judge the moment right and drop the bomb gently.
"Daddy is proud of you..."
The effect is instantaneous. Their arms tighten around me as they burrow their faces into my chest, sobbing softly. I let them be for a while, caressing their heads and whispering encouragement. I don't dare risk pushing the daddy angle again not yet. When they finally calm down, I release the hug and shoo them toward the bathroom.
I watch them scamper off like two little big-tittied nymphs, noting the spring in their steps.
[Dana trust: 86 (+10)]
[Dana love: 18 (+10)]
[Dana loyalty: 25 (+20)]
[Dana obedience: 20 (+20)]
[Dana base horniness: 20 (+5)]
[Gina trust: 83 (+10)]
[Gina love: 18 (+10)]
[Gina loyalty: 25 (+20)]
[Gina obedience: 20 (+20)]
[Gina base horniness: 24 (+5)]
-x-X-x-
A few minutes later, the twins emerge from the bathroom cleaned up, hair smoothed, faces fresh. Still in just their bras and skirts, no panties, their school shoes and socks still on. Dana's in navy, Gina in charcoal. They don't reach for their discarded shirts. They stand there, waiting, looking at me with open, trusting faces.
I smile. "Good girls. Let's get some lunch."
I lead them to the kitchen. Katie's at the stove, stirring something that smells like garlic and butter. Hope and Hester are already at the table, sitting across from each other. They look up as we walk in.
"Girls," I say, "this is Dana and Gina. As you already know, they'll be joining us for tutoring on Saturdays."
"A plate for everyone," Katie calls over her shoulder. "Sit, sit."
They sit. Dana and Gina on one side of the table, Hope and Hester on the other. I take the head, where I can watch. Katie moves between stove and counter, her rhythm easy.
Hope's eyes sweep over the twins their bra-clad torsos, their relaxed postures and a slow smile spreads across her face. "Hey. Nice to meet you."
Gina smiles back. "Hey.' Dana ducks her head, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, and murmurs a hello into her shoulder.
Under the table, Dana's hand finds Gina's.
The girls fall into chatter school, teachers, which subjects suck. The twins relax by the minute. Gina mentions their uniform skirts are itchy, and Dana nods in agreement.
Then Hope stretches, slow and deliberate, her arms rising above her head, her grey tee lifting to show a sliver of her midriff. She catches my eye, then the twins'.
"Man, it's warm in here," she says, her voice casual. "You guys feel it?"
Without waiting for a reply, Hope hooks her fingers into the hem of her tee and pulls it up, slow teasingly slow - first baring her stomach, then her ribs, then the pale pink lace of her bralette. She lets the fabric hang for a second, watching the twins, before pulling it over her head and tossing it onto the empty chair beside her.
The twins watch, but their expressions don't shift. No discomfort, no confusion. To them, a girl in her bra at the lunch table is simply normal... well, the new normal, courtesy of my suggestions - and it applies only to this house and these people.
Hope's smile widens. She turns to Hester. "Are you hot too, Hes?"
Hester doesn't hesitate. She grips the hem of her navy sweatshirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion, revealing the sage green bra underneath. She folds the sweatshirt and sets it on the chair beside her.
Hope grins at her, then turns to the twins. "Ben's a great tutor, isn't he?"
Gina flushes. Dana's cheeks go pink, but they both nod.
"The best," Gina says softly.
"Told you." Hope leans back, stretching again. "He tutored Hester and me too." She shoots me a quick look, and I keep my face smooth. A white lie but Paul told Mary | tutor Hester, and Mary passed that to the twins, so the story holds. Suck it up, Ben. "Best decision we ever made."
All four girls exchange a look a shared grin that says more than words. A silent understanding passes between them like a current. My little sluts are finding each other.
I let my mind drift, imagining the four of them tumbling together on my bed. Hope pinning Dana's wrists, Hester's mouth on Gina's neck, a tangle of limbs and bras and flushed skin. Katie joining in. The sounds they'd make.
The thought hardens me, but I keep my face neutral.
Katie sets the last dish on the table and steps back. She pulls her shirt over her head a loose linen button-down and drops it onto the counter. She's wearing a simple nude bra underneath, her curves soft and full. She catches my look and winks.
"Family lunch," she says, and sits.
We eat. Garlic butter chicken, roasted potatoes, green beans. The girls chatter about school, teachers, a movie Hope wants to see. The twins open up they talk about swimming at the old mill, about how their mom is strict but fair, about how they were nervous about tutoring but now they're not.
Every time they talk about tutoring, their cheeks flush. Every time, Hope catches my eye and smirks.
"Maybe someday you can tutor us all together, Ben."
I grin back. "Sorry, I only have two hands."
The twins flush. All four girls laugh..
Lunch winds down. Katie clears the plates. The girls help, moving around each other in the small kitchen, bras and bare torsos catching the afternoon light.
I check the time. "One hour before your mom picks you up. Let's get back to work."
The twins nod. I look at them. "Dress up. You'll want to be presentable."
They slip out and return a few minutes later, blouses buttoned, sweaters back on. Dana's blue, Gina's pink, their cheeks still carrying a leftover flush. They look like nothing happened. Like they spent a normal Saturday studying math.
We settle into the study corner. I give them three more exercises harder ones, compound word problems with fractions and percentages..
They solve them in ten minutes. Every answer correct.
I hide my grin. Orgasms do wonders for concentration.
We still have time before Mary arrives, so I keep my voice light, steering the chat to nothing in particular
- how their week was, what they'll do for the rest of the weekend. As we talk, I grab the paper towels and wipe down the desk chairs, still damp with their juice from earlier. Dana notices and turns crimson. Gina hides a grin behind her hand.
I let them bask in it. Then I lean forward, my voice dropping just enough.
"Girls. What we did today that stays here. It's not something you do on your own. Things like that need my supervision."
Gina's brow furrows. Dana's smile fades.
"No touching," I say, meeting their eyes. "Not yourselves, not each other not those places. Not when you're at home. If your mom finds out, she might not let you come back. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"
Their faces shift. The pout comes first - Dana's lip juts out, Gina's jaw tightens. Then the words sink in. Losing this. Losing the tutoring. Their eyes go wide, and they start nodding, fast, like little birds pecking seeds.
Well, big-titied little birds. But still.
"Good girls.' I open my arms. "Come here."
They step into a three-way hug, pressing against me, their faces buried in my chest. I hold them tight, kiss the tops of their heads one at a time. "I'm proud of you. You did great today. Next Saturday, we'll pick up where we left off.'
...And maybe next time I'll have you naked, and I'll get to eat you out.
The doorbell rings.
I release them. They step back, blouses still buttoned, sweaters still on two perfect schoolgirls who spent the afternoon studying math.
"Go on," I say. "Your mom's here."
They exchange that twin glance the one that says we have a secret now and head for the door.
Mary's arrived. Tutoring-disguised-sex-ed is over for today.
-x-X-x-
The door clicks shut and I lean against it, eyes closed, breathing slow and deliberate. My cock is still straining against my jeans, hard as a steel beam, throbbing in time with my pulse. The kitchen blowjob from Hope took the edge off barely. I can still taste the twins on the air the lingering scent of their arousal from the wet chairs I wiped clean, the memory of Dana's blush when she noticed, the weight of their bodies pressed against me during the hug. The "Daddy" that made them sob into my chest.
I'm used to daily satiation. Katie's mouth every morning. Hope's eager cunt every night. Hester's tight ass whenever I want it. My body has adapted to a constant diet of sex, and today's stimuli broke the meter.
I push off the door and head for the kitchen.
The scene hits me like a wave. Katie's at the sink, her back to me, linen button-down still discarded from lunch - just the nude bra and her jeans. The soft curve of her spine, the way her hips sway as she scrubs a plate. The late afternoon light catches the sweat on her shoulders.
Hope and Hester at the table, still in their bras from lunch - pale pink lace on Hope, sage green on Hester. They're talking in low voices, heads together, but when I walk in, four eyes lift and lock onto me. A charged silence. I can feel the heat coming off my own skin.
Hope opens her mouth, ready to launch into her usual pitch - how she can help, how she's been waiting, how she deserves it. I know my little princess.
I speak first.
"Hester."
She straightens, caught off guard. I hold her gaze and crook a finger. "Come here, pet. Daddy needs his good pet."
The words land like a splash of cold water. Her eyes go wide, then soft. Her lips part. She doesn't question why she was chosen first over Hope she just rises from the chair and crosses to me, her socks soft on the tile, sage green bra catching the kitchen light. I pull her into my chest and kiss the top of her head, slow, deliberate, my hand cradling the back of her skull. She melts against me like she's been waiting for this all day.
"Hope. You too, beautiful."
She pouts just a flicker, a tiny downturn of the lips - then slides off her chair and joins us. I pull her in with my other arm. Three-way embrace. Hester pressed to my chest, Hope tucked against my shoulder. A beat of stillness.
I lift my head and meet Katie's eyes over her shoulder. She's stopped washing. Hands in the water, watching. Waiting.
"I need you tonight," I say. Soft. Husband-voice. "Finish up and come here."
I turn Hester back toward the table and bend her over it. Her palms flat on the surface, her ass in the air, her bra straps loose on her shoulders. Her dark wash jeans stretch tight across her hips. I press myself against her from behind, my cock grinding into her ass through the denim, and she gasps - that sharp, delicious sound - then pushes back, hungry for more. My hands slide up her sides, find the clasp of her sage green bra, and unhook it. The straps fall. Her small tits hang free, brushing against the table as she arches.
"Good pet," I murmur into her ear, my lips brushing her skin. "You've been so good today. Did so well with the twins. You deserve a reward tonight."
She trembles against me. "F-father..."
"Shh." My hands find her bare tits from behind, cupping them, rolling her nipples between my fingers. She's already hard. I pinch, and she moans into the table. "Let Daddy take care of you."
A soft, shuddering exhale. She nods against the wood.
Hope watches from beside the table, one hand pressed between her thighs, her breathing quick and shallow. Her eyes track every movement my hands on Hester's tits, Hester's ass pressed back against my cock. I meet her gaze.
"Don't be shy, princess. Come taste your sister."
Hope closes the distance. She drops to her knees under the table, ducking her head beneath it, and presses her mouth to Hester's cunt through the denim. Her fingers find the button of Hester's jeans, pop it open, and lower the zipper. Then she hooks her fingers into the waistband and pulls - the denim slides down Hester's thighs, past her knees, to her calves. Hester steps out of them, now in just her sage green panties, and spreads her legs wider. Hope pulls the fabric to the side, baring Hester's cunt, then leans in and closes her lips around Hester's clit.
A cry. Sharp, wanton, cut off by a bitten lip.
I keep working her tits from behind, rolling her nipples between my fingers while Hope's tongue works her cunt in slow, deliberate circles. Hester's cheek presses against the table, her mouth open, a string of breathless moans spilling out.
Behind us, the sink faucet clicks off. Katie's footsteps cross the tile. She stops beside the table and takes in the scene - Hester bent over it, Hope's head ducked beneath it, me pressed against Hester's back.
"Master wants to fuck his pet," she says, low and knowing. "Let me help."
"Strip. Then get on the table. I want to watch you watch her."
Her eyes flash. She reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra, lets it fall. Her full tits swing free. Then she unbuttons her jeans, pushes them down her thighs, steps out of them. No panties. She's naked, her cunt already wet and glistening. She plants a hand on the table edge and climbs up, settles onto her knees, facing Hester's head, and sits back on her heels legs open, knees out, her cunt inches from Hester's mouth. The M pose. She looks down at her pet, waiting.
I look at her. My slave-wife. Beautiful, obedient, always ready. She reaches down and parts her lips with her fingers, baring herself.
Hester lifts her head from the table and finds Katie's cunt right there, inches away. Her breath hitches.
"Good slave," I murmur. "You know what your pet needs."
I turn back to Hester. I slide my cock out of my jeans, and it springs free heavy, slick with pre-cum, the tip glistening. I tease it against her cunt lips, watching her face in profile. Her eyes are half-closed, her mouth slack, her tits hanging full and bare. Her lips are inches from Katie's cunt.
"You want this, pet?"
'Yes, father. Please. Please."
'Then eat your mistress while I fuck you."
She doesn't hesitate. She lifts her head and presses her tongue inside Katie's cunt.
I line myself up and push in slow. My cockhead parts her lips and slides forward, the resistance building a velvet vise gripping every inch. Her walls cling and give, cling and give, like a fist shoved into a bucket of warm honey the cling, the drag, the sweet suction that doesn't want to let go even as it welcomes every inch. I sink deeper until my balls press against her skin, my cockhead nudging against her cervix, a soft, insistent tap deep inside her.
Her mouth is full of Katie, her eyes fluttering shut, a moan vibrating against Katie's cunt. Her hand reaches back and finds my hip.
"She's so full, Hope whispers from between Hester's legs. She's still licking, her voice vibrating against Hester's cunt. "Her pussy is so full of you, Daddy."
The words nearly break me.
I set a rhythm. Slow pull, deep push - each thrust rocks her body forward, driving her mouth harder against Katie's cunt. Katie gasps above us, her hand finding the back of Hester's head, holding her in place. Hester moans into her the vibration buzzing against Katie's clit.
I watch my cock slide in and out of her, slick and gleaming. Her ass ripples with every impact. Below, Hope's tongue is a constant, wet pressure against Hester's clit, working in counterpoint to my thrusts she presses when I pull, eases when I drive forward. Her fingers find my balls through the space between Hester's thighs and cup them, holding, squeezing in time with my rhythm.
The table creaks. Hester's moans are muffled by Katie's cunt. Katie's head falls back, her tits bouncing, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
"Fuck," she breathes. "Fuck, yes."
I reach forward and grip her ankles, pulling her M pose wider. She lets me, pliant, her cunt open and dripping onto Hester's chin.
I keep fucking. Thrust after thrust, building a pace that has all four of us moving together - a machine of wet sounds and ragged breath and the slap of skin on skin. Then I pull out, and Hester lifts her mouth from Katie's cunt, gasping.
I turn Hester around and lift her legs wrapped around my waist, my hands under her tight ass, her arms around my neck and carry her to the bedroom. She clings to me, moaning into my shoulder, her tits pressed flat against my chest. Her jeans are still pooled on the kitchen floor.
Hope follows, licking Hester's juice from her lips. Katie slides off the table and brings up the rear, still naked, her skin flushed and damp.
I lay Hester on the bed and climb over her. She looks up at me with those eyes worshipful, adoring, confused and grateful all at once. My pet. My good little squirrel. The girl who came to me as a bully, head high and defiant, before I broke her and remolded her into what she is now a needy, obedient, slutty pet. And now she's trembling beneath me, waiting for my next move.
I grab the waistband of her sage green panties and rip. The fabric tears like wet paper. She gasps surprised, thrilled and lifts her hips to let me pull the torn strips from under her.
I push inside her again and set a rhythm. Deep and slow, grinding, her legs hooked over my arms, her small tits quivering with every thrust. My cock claims her cunt as my own. Her walls give up resisting the invasion, aided by her flowing juices lubricating the fleshy intruder, but keep applying a steady pressure on it. My cockhead keeps bumping onto her cervix, each bump eliciting a gasp from my trembling little pet, as if aware that entry is impossible but unwilling to accept defeat. I lean down and take a nipple in my mouth, sucking, biting gently while I fuck her. Hester gasps - that sharp, delicious sound and her back bows off the mattress.
"Father... father..." She's crying again. Happy tears, leaking down her temples. She doesn't wipe them. Just lets them fall. Her hands find my shoulders and dig in, nails biting.
"That's it, pet. Let go. Come for Daddy."
She does. Her back arches, her cunt seizes around me in waves, and she moans my name like a prayer drawn out, broken, beautiful. Her whole body shudders and I keep thrusting through it, riding her orgasm, not letting up.
Behind me, the bed dips. Hope's hand slides up my back. I look over my shoulder. She's on her knees, her pink bra still on, her jeans unbuttoned and her hand shoved down the front, fingers working her own cunt with quick, practiced strokes.
"Please, Daddy. I need..."
"You're going to watch, babygirl." Not unkind. Firm. "Your pet sister earned today. You'll get your turn this evening."
She bites her lip. The pout flickers across her face again - that signature Hope pout - then fades into something else. Arousal. Submission. Trust. She nods. Her hand slows, matching the rhythm of my thrusts into Hester. Good girl.
Below, hands grip my waistband. Katie. She tugs my jeans down past my hips, baring my ass. She slides in behind me, fitting herself between my spread knees, and leans forward her mouth finding my balls from below, drawing them in with a soft, wet seal. She closes her lips and sucks, a steady vacuum that pulls them deep while I keep thrusting into Hester. Her tongue works the sac, one hand gripping my thigh for leverage. She moans against my skin, and the vibration travels up my spine.
Her mouth works my balls relentlessly, sucking and releasing in rhythm with my thrusts. Hope behind me, touching herself, watching my cock slide in and out of Hester. Hester writhing beneath me, tears and sweat and saliva. The room is a symphony of wet sounds and soft moans and the creak of the bedframe.
This is my family. My perfect, filthy, loving family.
I reach back and grip Katie's hair, pulling her mouth off my sac. "Get between her legs, slave. Eat her out."
I sit back, drawing Hester's knees toward my chest, her legs folding until her soles press flat against my shoulderblades. I hold her feet under my palms - steady, anchored - her cunt wide open and fully exposed beneath me. Katie slides in from the side, her head horizontal as she tucks herself beside Hester's hip, her tongue finding Hester's clit without hesitation. Hester wails.
"OH-fuck-yes-"
I keep thrusting, deep and steady, while Katie's tongue works Hester's clit from the side. Hope's hand moves faster between her legs. The whole bed is rocking.
The pressure builds in my gut. My balls draw tight. Alarm bells sound in my mind, my testicles shouting "overload! overload!" I bury myself deep inside Hester one last, full, grinding thrust and let go. Thick ropes of cum pump into her cunt, one after another, flooding her insides, painting her quivering vagina in my lustful colors, while she moans beneath me and Katie's tongue works her clit through the orgasm.
The orgasm keeps rolling wave after wave - and I keep thrusting through it, riding it out.
When I finally stop, I'm gasping. I pull out and collapse beside Hester, pulling her into my chest. She curls into me, trembling, her face buried in my neck. Her breath is hot and ragged against my skin.
Katie climbs up and tucks herself under my arm. Her body is warm, damp with sweat. She presses a kiss to my shoulder.
"Good master," she murmurs.
Hope crawls over and drapes herself across my legs her cheek on my thigh, her hand still resting between her legs. She's watching Hester with something complicated in her eyes. Jealousy. Arousal. Love.
"You did so well, pet," I murmur to Hester, kissing the top of her head. "I'm so proud of you."
She sniffles against my chest. "I love you, father."
"I know, pet. I know."
I hold her tighter. Katie's hand finds mine. Hope's fingers trace lazy patterns on my calf.
We lie like that for a long moment four bodies tangled in the sheets, the room smelling of sex and sweat and something that feels dangerously close to happiness.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Katie reaches for it and presses it into my hand.
Paul.
"Is this a bad time?"
I glance down at Hester, still trembling against my chest, and Katie tucked warm under my arm. "No, just finished filling up Hester."
Hester purrs an actual, feline sound and burrows deeper into my chest. Katie muffles a giggle against my shoulder.
A pause on the other end. "Oh."
Another pause. Then: "Convent passed first inspection. Can you visit this week?"
I grin at the ceiling. "I'll make time. Text me the details."
"Will do. And, Ben? I don't want to know."
He hangs up.
Katie chuckles, her breath warm on my skin. "You're so bad. Telling a father you just finished flooding his daughter with cum."
Hope chuckles from the foot of the bed. I reach down and slap Katie's ass sharp, a real sting. "That's enough out of you, slave. Keep teasing your master and see what happens."
Katie's eyes twinkle. "Promise?"
I don't answer. Not yet. I just hold them both close in the quiet that follows.
A moment passes. The system waits until the breathing steadies before delivering the accounting.
[Chapter 137- Afternoon Session breakdown:]
[Kitchen table:]
[vaginal sex (from behind, partial undress): 600 x 1.5 undress = 900]
[Bedroom:]
[vaginal sex (folded missionary, full undress): 600 x 2.0 undress = 1,200]
[ball sucking (full undress): 400 x 2.0 undress = 800]
[cumshot (full undress): 600 x 2.0 undress = 1,200]
[orgasm x1: +500]
[Total earned: 4,600 PDP]
[New balance: 46,225 PDP]
*What about the cunnilingus? Hope on Hester. Hester on Katie. Katie on Hester. None of those counted?*
[Acts where you are not a direct participant do not generate PDP. Daughter-daughter, daughter-follower, and follower-daughter interactions fall outside the scoring criteria.]
[There are exceptions - certain rare configurations unlock special scoring. None were met today.]
I mentally grunt. *Noted.*
I pull the girls closer and let the warmth of the moment settle the smell of sex still hanging in the air, the tantalizing prospect of what comes next humming under my skin.
-x-X-x-
I wake early, the girls still dead to the world. Sunday. Church day. Fuck...
A night of having my balls drained makes a man forgetful- I'd thought of preparing a surprise for Katie, bringing her along to see the convent this morning, without once checking what day it was. In a town like this, everyone goes to mass and I'm Katie's husband, so I go too. So do the girls. It's the price of looking respectable, and the neighbors count. And the shop I wanted to visit to prepare a surprise for Katie? Shut on Sunday, like everything else.
So the plan changes while the coffee drips. Today: the convent, alone, with Paul. The surprise I'm preparing for Katie keeps until tomorrow afternoon.
-x-X-x-
We all go to mass, the five of us. Katie in her Sunday dress, hair pinned up. Hope in a pale blue dress, honey-blonde hair brushed out for once. Hester in navy, sleeves long, modest collar the kind of outfit that reads demure church girl and isn't. Paul takes the end of the pew beside his daughter.
Katie nudges me awake somewhere in the homily. The priest drones on and on, same cadence, same three points, the whole town nodding along in time.
I let the words wash over me and think about the school. This town is so stuck with religion, we're going to need one of these for the chapel a real priest, someone the parents trust. The question is where a man finds a fairly depraved one. Loyalty is one thing, but I'd rather not corrupt an honest priest if I can help it. Someone already broken would be easier to buy.
Hester catches my eye across the aisle during the offertory and hides a smile behind her hymnal. Hope elbows her.
I shake the priest's hand on the way out and compliment his sermon, and no one thinks twice about Ben Roberts, good husband, good father. They're still giggling when we file out into the late-morning sun.
By two o'clock Paul's beige sedan is idling at the curb the kind of car a vice principal would drive. He honks once.
I grab my jacket and head out alone. "Paul's picking me up," I tell Katie at the door. "Property visit. Back before dinner."
She gives me a curious look but doesn't push. Good slave-wife. Trusting.
Paul shakes my hand when I reach the car. "Ready to see the convent?" I slide into the passenger seat. "Drive."
The convent is ten minutes outside town on Cedar Street - its acquisition the result of cooperation between Paul and my sleazy lawyer. The road narrows as we leave the commercial district behind, the houses thinning out until it's just fields and the occasional oak tree. Then the wall appears old stone, moss-stained, topped with rusted iron spikes. Beyond it, the roof of the main building rises against the afternoon sky.
Paul pulls up to the gate and kills the engine. "First time seeing it up close?"
"First time." I step out and take it in.
The convent is three stories of weathered brick, with a slate roof that's missing a few tiles and a bell tower that hasn't rung in years. The windows are dark, some boarded, some just empty. The grounds are overgrown - knee-high grass, a cracked fountain, a gravel path that's more weed than gravel.
But the bones are good. The bones are solid.
Paul unlocks the main gate with a key from his pocket and swings it open. We walk through. At the front door he works a second key from the same ring new locks all round, fitted the moment the acquisition went through and lets us in.
The inside is better than the outside promised. The entrance hall is wide, with high ceilings and original hardwood floors that have held up under decades of dust. The building is L-shaped the main block running straight back, a shorter wing branching off to the right. The main corridor opens into what was once common rooms four of them, one after another, each with tall windows letting in good light. They'd make decent classrooms. A small parlour sits near the front door, wood-paneled, the kind of room where nuns once received visitors. The refectory is further back, a long hall with a vaulted ceiling.
A wide serving hatch opens into the adjoining kitchen - big gas ranges, industrial sinks, a walk-in pantry built to feed sixty nuns. More than enough for a boarding school.
"Dormitory's upstairs," Paul says, gesturing toward the stairwell. "Sixty cells. Third floor's got the old Mother Superior's office, a library, an infirmary, and what used to be the novitiate wing. I didn't go through it all the listing said the plumbing needs checking up there."
Paul walks beside me, pointing out details. "Electrical needs updating. Heating's functional but inefficient. Roof needs patching in two places. But structurally, it's sound."
"Teachers first," I say. "That's what my lawyer tells me. State won't approve the permit without them on staff.
Paul nods. "He's right. The feasibility review cleared size, zoning, all tentatively approved for a school. The building can wait; the hiring can't."
"Miss Delaney." I say her name like a chess move. "English. Young, sharp, already warming up to me."
"I know her. Good teacher. I can make some calls, see who else might be interested."
"Start with Delaney. We'll build from there."
He nods again and we step outside. The grounds stretch behind the main building - a few acres of untended field that could be anything with the right investment. Paul points to a clearing near the tree line.
"That's where the villa would go. Zoning's already filed. Property lines are clear."
I look at the empty field. I see it. A house for my girls. Separate from the school. Private. Ours.
Paul hands me the keys a heavy ring with the main gate, the front door, the chapel, and the rest. "The deed's filed. It's yours now." I close my fingers around them. Cold iron. Solid.
Paul reaches for the door handle, then stops. "You coming?"
I shake my head. "Come back for me in two hours. I want to take my time, explore the place properly -figure out what to do and what to change before the renovation starts."
He frowns, glances at his watch, then shrugs. "Two hours. I'll be back."
He heads for his car. The engine starts, the beige sedan pulls away, and then it's just me and the empty convent.
I lock up behind him gate first, then the front door and pocket the ring of keys. Two hours to walk the place alone. No Katie. No questions. Just the building and the plans forming in my head. The main corridor, the dormitory, the wing at the end of the third floor. I walk it twice, making notes, imagining walls knocked through and soundproofing laid and doors that only I will ever open.
The east side of the property is where I linger longest. A belt of old trees - birch and maple, grown thick and tall - runs along the boundary there, and beyond it the field stretches open. I walk the treeline, thinking. Beyond that grove would be a good location for the staff lodging. Close enough to reach the school in two minutes, screened from it entirely, a little village of their own. The town will love it - staff housing reads wholesome.
I make another mental note as I circle back through the dormitory floor. Sixty cells, but you can't have sixty to eighty girls alone at night without supervision. So: knock each pair of cells together into a proper double room bathroom on the old shared-wall line, double closet, double desk - and two girls to a room. That gives thirty rooms, and a handful of overflow cells on the third floor pushes the roll to eighty. The short bar on this floor becomes the keepers' wing: a study room at the start, then three mini apartments bedroom, bath, sitting room, a little kitchenette for two matrons and a teacher, on rotation. They eat in the refectory like everyone else; I'll earmark a few small tables for the staff.
Laundry too. Not a line of machines for the girls - I can just picture sixty teenagers with irons, burning the school down before we even open. No. A proper staff-run laundry with commercial machines, folded and returned. I'll take the old study lounge off the main corridor for it, so the girls drop their bags steps from their rooms and never think about it again.
By the time Paul's beige sedan rolls back up the gravel, the afternoon light has turned gold. I climb in without a word.
"Get it sorted?" he asks.
I nod. "One surprise left to arrange."
He glances over, curious for a moment then shrugs and lets it pass. We ride back into town in comfortable silence.
Except it isn't entirely silent. Not in my head.
*Hey, system. You picked me, back then. One of the reasons I remember this conversation was that I had the whole building wired before you even arrived. Every wall, every bathroom, every bedroom. A surveillance-minded host, you said.*
[That is correct, host.]
*So I have to ask. I'm putting all my focus into the school now. The building, the convent - that's where everything moves next. Does that change anything between us? Are you... staying?*
A pause. Then:
[The school is not a departure, host. It is a step a large one on the road to becoming the greatest perverted daddy the system has ever produced. Sixty to eighty girls under one roof, on your land, in your care. The host is not moving away from his purpose. He is consolidating it.]
[And besides the host plans to wire the convent far more thoroughly than his building. Cameras in the dormitory, the bathrooms, the study rooms. The den will have its second location.]
I feel the corner of my mouth tug upward in the darkness of the car.
"Good," I say aloud. Paul doesn't look over. *I got used to you, system. I wouldn't want to lose you.*
[The host means he doesn't want to lose the chance to get all these teenage girls.]
I sigh contentedly, the way a man does when the road ahead finally feels clear.
*That too, system. That too.*
-x-X-x-
Monday. The rental agency is a one-room office at the edge of Main, with a young clerk who doesn't blink at cash. I sign for a mid-size sedan and take the wheel.
*I've got to buy a car. Two cars. One for me, one for Katie with the school there'll be a lot of back and forth.*
Then the shop - tucked between a pawnbroker and a laundromat on the seedier edge of town, where the questions get fewer, the sign reading *Novelty & Theatrical Supply Since 1978*. A bell jingles when I push through the door.
The man behind the counter is in his sixties, bald, reading glasses pushed up on his forehead. He looks me over once and doesn't ask questions. Good.
"I need a nun's habit." I give him Katie's measurements. "Full set. No cross, no religious iconography of any kind. And the accessories white coif, white garterbelt, white stockings, mid-thigh. White heels. White bra. White panties."
He finishes writing. Looks up. "Anything else?"
I consider it for a moment. 'Actually a priest's cassock. My size. Nothing fancy, just the cassock."
He disappears into the back and returns fifteen minutes later with two garment bags. I pay in cash. Walk out before the bell stops jingling.
The bags go straight into the trunk of the rental. They ride behind us, out of sight, while I swing back to the building.
Katie's waiting by the door in a sundress, light makeup, her hair down. She looks good. She always looks good.
"Where are we going?" she asks, hand on the passenger door.
"I figured we could tour the school grounds together and get your input."
She raises an eyebrow pleased, curious and climbs into the passenger seat without another question. Good slave-wife. Trusting.
The ride is pleasant, the two of us chatting about nothing that matters the weather, the neighbours, what the girls are up to this week.
I resist the temptation of a blowjob while I drive. The last part of the road is bumpy, and I'd rather not lose something precious to a pothole. Not to mention, somebody might see us.
I kill the engine in front of the gate and step out. Katie follows, her sundress bright against the weathered stone.
We walk it together. The entrance hall with its high ceilings and original hardwood. The common rooms that will become classrooms. The refectory, the kitchen built to feed sixty nuns. Up the stairs to the dormitory floor - the cells, and my plans for thirty double rooms. She asks questions, good ones, and I answer.
On the third floor, at the end of the novitiate wing, I stop in front of a plain door. "One more room."
I push it open. The space is bare no windows, dust on the floor, the raw shell of what it will become.
"After the renovation, this room doesn't exist. Hidden door behind the filing cabinet out there, soundproofing in every wall, no windows. Nobody will ever know it's here."
"Round bed in the centre, ceiling mirror above so they watch themselves."
"Glass cubicle over there toilet, shower. Every angle visible. First girl we put in it, she'll break in a week."
"Rotating cross against that wall. Pillory here. Hoist on the ceiling, remote control, harness to suspend them however I want."
"Couch along the wall for whoever's watching. Wardrobe full of costumes. Tool wall with the whole collection."
"Cameras with red lights on visible - so they know they're being recorded."
Katie listens, taking it in, then chuckles. "Hester first! She squirms so pretty."
I smile. That's the plan.
We leave the wing, and I stop at the car, pop the trunk, and pull out both garment bags. Katie watches, curious, but says nothing.
"Come on." I lead her to the chapel and push the door open into a small anteroom bare, dusty, peeling paint. Beyond it, a second door leads to the chapel proper: maybe twenty pews, an aisle, a raised dais where the altar sits. Stripped of anything holy. Just a stone slab and the dust of years.
Perfect.
I unzip the first garment bag and hold it out to her the habit folded inside, the coif on top, the white lace and nylon bundled beneath.
"Ten minutes." I nod toward the second door. "Get changed. Everything you need's in here."
Her eyes widen. Then she smiles that slow, knowing smile that means she's already figured out what I'm planning and she's already on board.
"Yes, master."
I push the door gently. She steps inside. I close it behind her.
Then I reach back into the second garment bag and pull out the cassock. Black fabric, floor-length, straight-cut. Simple. Clerical.
I strip where I stand in the empty anteroom shirt tossed onto a bench, pants pushed down and kicked aside, boxers following. I stand naked in the cold for a long moment, goosebumps rising on my skin. Then I pull the cassock over my head and let it fall.
It settles on my shoulders, draping to my calves. Nothing beneath it. Just bare skin and the brush of fabric and the knowledge of what I'm about to do.
I stuff my discarded clothes into the second bag. Lean against the wall. Fold my arms.
And I wait.
Ten minutes pass. Enough for her to get changed, enough for the anticipation to build. I push off the wall, take the handle, and open the door. Roleplaying time.
I step inside.
Katie is kneeling at the altar. Not on the altar steps on the bare stone floor, her knees pressed against the cold, her back straight, her hands folded in front of her. The habit covers her from neck to ankle -black fabric, white wimple framing her face, the coif sitting on her head like a crown. She looks up when she hears my footsteps, and her eyes are soft and submissive and utterly devoted.
No cross on the wall behind her. The chapel is stripped of iconography. Just a woman in a nun's habit, kneeling at a stone altar, absorbed in prayer.
I walk down the aisle slowly. My footsteps echo off the bare walls. When I reach her, I stop and look down at her.
"Father," she says. Her voice is quiet. Reverent. Perfect.
I don't answer. I circle her, taking her in the clean lines of the habit, the way the fabric drapes over her shoulders, the white of the wimple against her skin. She stays still. Kneeling. Waiting.
"Stand up, Sister."
She rises smoothly, her hands still folded.
"You called for me, Sister. You said you had a confession."
"Yes, Father." Her voice trembles - just enough to be convincing. "I've committed sins. Terrible sins. I'm afraid no amount of prayer can wash them away."
"All sins can be forgiven, Sister." I step closer, my voice low and even. "But they must first be confessed. Fully. Without shame."
She glances around the bare walls. "There's no confessional here, Father."
"There isn't." I gesture to the empty chapel. "The sisters took the box with them when they left. But the Lord hears every word spoken in His house - so kneel at His altar, and confess where He can watch you."
Her breath catches. Then she sinks back down onto the cold stone, hands folded, eyes lowered.
"Will you bare your soul to me, Sister?"
A pause. Then, so quiet it's barely there: "Will you hear it, Father? Even if it's filthy?"
"The dirtier the confession, Sister, the greater my duty. So speak. Let me hear what filthy words have passed your lips."
Her voice comes out in a hushed rush, tripping over itself. "I - I touched myself, Father. In the chapel, while I prayed. I thought of a man's hands on me. His cock in my mouth. I wanted it, Father. I wanted to be used."
I listen. I don't interrupt. The confession pours out of her every wicked thing she's done or imagined -until she's breathless and red-cheeked and trembling on the cold stone.
When she's done, I reach down and gather the hem of my cassock. I raise it and my cock springs free, hard and heavy, inches from her face. She stares at it, lips parted.
"Even if in confession, Sister, such filthy words passed your lips they must be cleansed."
-x-X-x-
She doesn't need telling twice. Her mouth opens, and she takes me in fully clothed, still in the habit, kneeling at the altar like the devoted little nun she's playing. Her tongue works my shaft, her cheeks hollowing, her eyes lifted to mine, submissive and worshipful. The white coif stays on her head, absurdly pure above it all.
I let her work for a while, my hand resting on the back of her head, guiding her pace. The chapel is silent but for the wet sounds of her devotion. She gags once, pulls back, recovers, takes me deeper eager to earn absolution.
Then I pull her off me with a soft pop. "Enough, Sister. On your feet."
She rises unsteadily, hands still folded, lips glistening.
I reach for the clasp at her throat. My fingers work the fabric loose the habit parts at the front, falling open to reveal what's underneath.
White.
White bra, lace-trimmed, her full tits pushed up and spilling over the top. White garterbelt hugging her hips. White stockings climbing her thighs to mid-thigh, held taut by the garter clips. White panties, a small triangle of lace at the junction of her thighs. White coif still on her head. White heels.
She's a vision. A corrupted, filthy, gorgeous vision.
I push the habit off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a heap of black fabric. She stands before me in nothing but the white set, her skin flushed, her breathing quick, her eyes locked on mine.
"Turn around. Bend over the altar."
She turns and bends, her palms flat on the stone, her ass in the air, the white panties stretched tight across her cheeks. I step up behind her and run my hand down her spine, over the curve of her ass, until my fingers find the waistband of the panties. I hook them and pull.
The fabric tears. Not a rip a full tear, the lace parting from the waistband, the panties coming away in my hand. I stuff them in my pocket.
Her cunt is bare beneath the torn lace. Wet. Ready.
I drop to my knees behind her, grip her thighs, and press my mouth to her.
She gasps that sharp, beautiful sound and her hips push back against my face. I spread her open with my thumbs and tongue her, slow and deliberate, tracing the length of her slit from the bottom up, circling her clit, feeling her tremble. She's already soaked. The taste of her is sweet and salty and unmistakably Katie.
I eat her like she's the last meal I'll ever have. My tongue presses inside her, fucks her, drinks her. Her moans echo off the chapel walls a sound that was never meant to be heard in a place like this. Her knees buckle. I grip her thighs harder and keep going, my tongue working her clit in tight circles while one hand slides up her ass, my fingers finding the tight pucker of her asshole, circling it, pressing.
"Father - " Her voice breaks. "Father, I'm -'
I don't stop. I push her over the edge.
Her orgasm hits her like a wave her whole body seizes, her cunt clenching against my tongue, a long, shuddering moan escaping her lips. I keep licking through it, drawing it out, until she's gasping and trembling and her weight is fully resting on the altar.
[Pervy act detected: cunnilingus (partial undress, roleplay): 400 x 1.5 undress x 1.5 roleplay = 900 PDP]
[Katie orgasm: +500 PDP]
I stand up. I gather the hem of my cassock and hitch it up to my waist. My cock springs free beneath it, hard and slick, the tip already glistening.
I step up behind her and lean over her bent back, my chest pressing against her spine. She's still dazed, her cheek pressed against the cold stone, her ass pushed out, waiting.
I grab both her arms not one, both and pull them back, straightening as I do, locking them behind her. Her back arches, her body lifted off the altar. Her tits press against the stone. I hold her wrists in one hand and guide my cock to her entrance with the other.
"Look at you," I murmur into her ear. "Dressed like a bride of Christ, bent over his table, about to take your father's cock. What would the sisters say, Sister?"
She whimpers. Doesn't answer. Can't.
I push in.
The resistance is perfect that velvet grip, that clutching warmth, the way her walls part and cling and welcome me all at once. I sink to the hilt in one smooth motion, my balls pressing against her clit, my cock buried deep inside her.
I don't give her time to adjust. I start fucking her.
Hard. Fast. Each thrust rocks her forward, her tits bouncing against the stone, her moans turning into wordless cries. I pull her arms back harder, arching her spine, using her wrists as handles to drive deeper. My hips slap against her ass. The sound echoes off the chapel walls wet and rhythmic and utterly profane.
"You like this, don't you, Sister?" I'm breathing hard. My voice is low, rough, the degrading monologue spilling out of me. "Being fucked on an altar, in your sacred habit. Your cunt dripping for your Father while the Lord watches."
She moans. A confirmation.
"Tell me."
"Yes yes, Father - I love it -
I slam into her harder. Her words dissolve into a cry.
I keep the rhythm punishing, pulling her arms back with every thrust, watching my cock disappear into her over and over. Her cunt grips me like a fist. Her moans are ragged, desperate, building toward something.
"I'm Father, I'm going to -'
"Come, Sister. Come on your father's cock. The Lord loves a whore as much as He loves a nun and you are both."
She does. Her body locks up, her cunt clenching around me in waves, her cry bouncing off the stone walls. I feel her orgasm pull me over the edge with her my own release building, cresting, breaking.
I bury myself deep and let go. Thick ropes of cum pump into her cunt, flooding her, marking her from the inside. I keep thrusting through it, riding the wave, until there's nothing left.
[Pervy act detected: vaginal sex (partial undress, roleplay): 600 x 1.5 undress x 1.5 roleplay = 1,350 PDP]
[Pervy act detected: cumshot in cunt (partial undress, roleplay): 600 x 1.5 undress x 1.5 roleplay = 1,350 PDP]
[Katie orgasm: +500 PDP]
-x-X-x-
I don't pull out. I stay buried inside her, my cock still hard, still throbbing, still hungry. Her cunt clenches around me in aftershocks, but I'm not done.
I shift my angle. Pull back just enough to let my cockhead rest at her entrance, then slide up - past her cunt, past the perineum, until the tip presses against her asshole.
She feels it. She tenses.
"Father - "
"Shh." I grip her hips. "Cleansing must be thorough, Sister." I line myself up. And I push.
One thrust. No resistance - just the tight, burning grip of her ass swallowing me whole.
"Alleluja!"
Her scream splits the chapel air. I hold myself deep inside her, letting her feel every inch, letting the stretch burn through her. Her palms scrape against the stone altar. Her breath comes in ragged gasps.
Then I start moving.
Hard anal. Brutal. Each thrust drives her forward, her tits sliding against the stone, her moans turning into choked cries. I lean over her and wrap my hand around her throat - not squeezing, just holding, my fingers curled around the front of her neck, a reminder of who owns her.
"You like that, Sister? Being filled in both holes on the same altar?" I'm gasping the words, my rhythm punishing. "First your cunt, now your ass. There's nowhere left that isn't consecrated."
She tries to answer but can't. Her voice is a broken sound, somewhere between a moan and a sob.
I fuck her harder. My hand tightens on her throat - just enough pressure to make her dizzy, to mix pleasure and the edge of fear. Her ass grips me like a vise, the heat incredible, the friction building toward something inevitable.
"Come for me, Sister. One more time. Come on your Father's cock."
She does. Her body seizes, her ass clenching around me in waves, a long, strangled moan escaping her throat. I feel her orgasm trigger mine my balls drawing tight, the pressure building, the release crashing through me as I bury myself to the hilt and fill her ass with everything I have.
Thick. Hot. Rope after rope pumping into her, flooding her, claiming her from the inside out.
[Pervy act detected: anal sex (partial undress, roleplay): 1,200 x 1.5 undress x 1.5 roleplay = 2,700 PDP]
[Pervy act detected: cumshot in ass (partial undress, roleplay): 600 x 1.5 undress x 1.5 roleplay = 1,350 PDP]
[Katie orgasm: +500 PDP]
I withdraw slowly. My cock slides out of her, slick with cum, and I step back.
Katie stays bent over the altar for a long moment, trembling, her breath loud in the empty chapel. Then her knees give out. She slides down the stone, her ass resting on her calves, cum leaking from both her holes onto the white stockings. Her head is bowed. The coif is still on her head, pristine, absurdly pure above the mess below.
I stand in front of her. My cock is at half-mast, still wet, still glistening.
"Look up, Sister."
She does. Her eyes are glazed, her makeup smudged, her lips parted.
I tap my cock against her lips. "It is time for your communion."
She doesn't hesitate. She opens her mouth and takes me in.
4G
What starts as a cleaning blowjob slow, worshipful, her tongue lapping the mix of her own juices and my cum from my shaft quickly turns into something else. She sucks harder. Deeper. Her hands find my hips and pull me forward, taking me to the root, her throat opening to accept me. She bobs her head, her cheeks hollowing, the sound wet and obscene in the silence of the chapel.
I let her work. My knees are already weak. She knows my body better than I do knows exactly how to angle her mouth, how to curl her tongue, when to suck and when to swallow. She's a virtuoso on her knees.
She pulls back just long enough to breathe, then takes me again, deeper, faster. Her hand cups my balls, impossible, I have nothing left -massaging, coaxing out every last drop. The pressure builds again but her mouth is relentless, a vacuum, a prayer, a devotion.
The orgasm hits me like a freight train. I cum straight down her throat, pulse after pulse, and she swallows every drop, her eyes locked on mine, her mouth never stopping until I'm empty and shaking and my legs are jelly.
[Pervy act detected: blowjob (partial undress, roleplay): 400 x 1.5 undress x 1.5 roleplay = 900 PDP]
She releases me with a soft pop. Wipes her lips with the back of her hand. Smiles up at me.
[Total earned: 10,050 PDP]
[New balance: 56,275 PDP]
I offer her my hand. She takes it, and I pull her to her feet. She wobbles, steadying herself against me, and I hold her until she finds her balance. The habit is still on the floor in a black heap. I pick it up and fold it back into the first garment bag while Katie steps out of the white underwear - the heels, the stockings, the garterbelt, the bra and slips back into her sundress. She finds the torn panties in my pocket, examines them with a raised eyebrow, and tucks them away with a smirk.
I strip the cassock off and pull my own clothes back on shirt, pants, boxers. Street clothes. The cassock goes into the same bag as the habit.
By the time she's done, she looks like herself again. Flushed cheeks, smudged makeup, the telltale shine in her eyes - but dressed for the street.
I brush a strand of hair from her face. "You wore that habit better than any real nun ever could."
"Pretty sure that's a sin too."
"Pretty sure counts as a compliment where we're going."
She grins at me. "Hell?"
"I prefer to think of it as the VIP section."
She laughs that warm, full laugh that made me fall for her in the first place. I take her hand and lead her out of the chapel, into the afternoon light.
We lock the main gate behind us and climb back into the rental, the empty convent at our backs and the afternoon sun warm on our faces. I'll have to buy a car soon. Two cars. One for me, one for Katie - with the school there'll be a lot of back and forth.
-x-X-x-
Evening. The rental goes back tomorrow, but that's a problem for tomorrow. Right now I'm on the couch, one arm draped along the back, the TV murmuring in the corner, and Hester's on her knees between my legs with my cock in her mouth. Easy rhythm. No rush.
I rest a hand on the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair while she works. She glances up at me that worshipful look she gets, patient as a clock and keeps going, tongue curling along the underside, cheeks hollowing. Casual. Domestic. Same as brushing her teeth.
My eyes stay on the ceiling, but my mind isn't here.
*Alright. The list. Let's run the list.*
*The cars.* I can't keep renting every time I need to move. I need my own wheels, and Katie needs hers. With the school, there'll be a lot of back and forth contractors, inspectors, staff interviews. Two cars, bought proper. A practical errand, nothing more.
Hester hums around me, a soft, contented sound, and I feel the vibration travel up my spine. My hand tightens in her hair, a gentle cue. She takes the hint, bobbing a little deeper.
*Teachers.* Delaney. Young, sharp, lonely in that way that makes a woman easy to reach English Lit, poetry, those tired eyes that light up when she talks about Keats. Paul's making calls, building the list, the core curriculum six to eight at minimum before the state even looks at the permit. Delaney's the keystone. Get her, and the rest start to fall.
*Mary.* The Pin of Trust's still working, ticking her up by the hour. Trust seventy-three, loyalty thirty-five - not where I want her, not yet, but the foundation's laid. A midweek scene, something quiet, something that feels like friendship. Then she's another follower, another thread pulled tight.
Hester's pace slows, dragging, teasing, I look down at her, and she's watching me - eyes dark, a question in them. Am I in the way? Is she losing me?
I smile and tug her hair gently. "Keep going, pet. I'm right here."
The tension in her shoulders eases. She redoubles her effort, and I let my head fall back again.
*The twins.* Saturday. The tutoring's coming along both of them primed, nine aerosol suggestions already planted in their heads, the panty rule in place. They're close, those two. Trust creeping up, that first-orgasm milestone behind them, and every time they're in the room together they get that synchronized flush.
Hester's tongue does something clever, and I grunt, my hips twitching. She smirks around me, proud of herself. Good girl.
*The priest.* Paul's still scouting. A depraved one, preferably someone already broken, someone I can buy outright rather than corrupt. The chapel needs a man the town trusts, and a man the town trusts who already whispers the right prayers to the right people is worth his weight in gold. Paul's got feelers out. Nothing yet.
*And the school itself.* Here's the thing nobody's said out loud yet, the thing I keep turning over while Hester works and the TV murmurs: between the renovations, the staffing, the permits - the paperwork alone would choke a horse there is no way the doors open by the start of the next school year. Not a chance. Spring's already bleeding into early summer, and a building that needs rewiring and a floorplan that needs knocking through doesn't happen in a season.
*But that's fine. That's more than fine. It gives me time time to wire the place properly, time to seed the staff, time to make sure every stone in that convent answers to me before a single girl walks in. Rushing a thing like this is how you get caught. Building it slow is how you own it forever.*
Hester speeds up, taking me deeper, her mouth hot and tight, and the list fizzles out at the edges the last item smudging like it always does when she works me like this. She knows my body better than I do. She knows when I'm done thinking.
I let my hand slide to the back of her neck, and I let go.
[Pervy act detected: blowjob: 400 PDP]
She swallows it all, looking up at me with that shine in her eyes, and I pull her up by the shoulders and pat her head a couple of firm, warm pats, the way you'd praise a good dog, because that's what she is, and she preens under it.
"Good girl." My voice comes out rough. "Thank you. Now scoot go do your homework. I'll be along in a bit."
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning, and bounces off the couch and out of the room without another word. The door clicks shut behind her.
I take a breath, button up, and stand.
The girls' room is two doors down. The door's half-open, and I can see Hope at her desk, math book open, pencil in hand, a page of equations half-solved. Hester's at her own desk beside it the one we added when she moved in her history textbook propped open on the surface. Hope hears me coming and looks up and there's that knowing look, that little smirk that says she's been waiting, that she knows exactly what "help with my equations" means in this house.
"Daddy," she says, all innocent, "I'm stuck on number four."
I move behind her chair and lean over her shoulder, my hands landing on her shoulders. "Let me see."
She tips the book up toward me, and I scan the problem a quadratic, the kind that folds cleanly if you know the trick. "Alright," I murmur. "Let's work through it."
She gets up to let me settle into the chair, and she doesn't need to be told twice. She straddles me, hiking her skirt up, and sinks down onto my cock with a soft, satisfied sound no underwear, of course. There's no point in them, not anymore.
"There," she breathes, wiggling into place. "Now I can think."
She picks up the pencil, studies the page, and starts to work. And she works the way she always does bouncing, a slow, steady rhythm that has her writing in little bursts, solving each line between rises. The pencil scratches. Her hips roll. Her concentration is remarkable, actually the answer taking shape in her neat handwriting while she rides me, my hands finding their way under her shirt, palms sliding up her belly to her tits.
*A pity, really. One cock. Just the one. Can't help both of them with their math at the same time.*
I knead them through the cotton, rolling her nipples between my fingers, and her pencil stutters.
"Number four's a tricky one," I murmur into her ear. "Try factoring."
She bites her lip, bounces twice, and writes the next line. Correct.
Across the room, Hester's slid low in her chair at her own desk, her pants and panties lowered to mid-thigh, legs spread wide with her feet up on her desk. Her hand works herself in quick, frantic circles, her gaze kept to the side - checking the action, watching her sister bounce on my cock. She doesn't even try to pretend she's studying.
I squeeze harder, grinding my hips up into her, and she gasps the pencil skips a character. She frowns at the page, erases, tries again. Wrong line. I feel her flush.
"Careful, babygirl. Focus."
She finds her rhythm again, bouncing faster, the equation coming together, and every time she gets a line right I reward her a roll of my hips, a squeeze of her tits, a low word of praise in her ear. And every time I push deeper, her concentration breaks, a wrong number slipping onto the page before she catches herself.
"Four. x equals four."
"Good girl." I thrust up into her, hard, and her pencil scratches a jagged line across the margin. "Two more."
Her answers come quicker now, breathless, riding a crest that has nothing to do with algebra. I feel her start to tighten around me, that flutter that means she's close, and I cup her tits in both hands, thumbs working her nipples, and take over the pace snapping my hips up to meet her, driving her faster and faster.
"Daddy - "
"Solve the last one, babygirl, and you can come."
She sobs out the answer - "x equals minus two" and I bury myself to the hilt and let her fall apart, her cunt clenching around me in waves while she cries out against my shoulder. I follow her over, my release pumping into her in thick pulses, marking her, and I hold her there until we're both shaking and still.
Out of the corner of my eye, Hester's whole body shudders in the chair, a choked sound escaping her as she finishes on her own hand, watching us. Her history textbook lies face-down on the floor, pushed off her desk in her frenzy.
[Pervy act detected: vaginal sex: 600 PDP]
[Pervy act detected: cumshot in cunt: 600 PDP]
[Hope orgasm: +500 PDP]
[Total earned: 2,100 PDP]
[New balance: 58,375 PDP]
She slumps against me, pencil still clutched in her hand, breath hot against my neck. I smooth her hair back and look at the page over her shoulder number four, solved. Number five, half-solved. Number six, blank.
*If your daughter can solve equations while hopping up and down on your cock, I think, watching her work the pencil one last time, *she's got a bright future ahead of her.*