Chapter 3

With a clarity I hadn’t felt since this whole fucked-up mess began, I knew what I needed to do. The kitchen was a pressure cooker of tension, Jess fondling Mom’s bare tits right in front of me, taunting me with her wicked smirk, while Mom surrendered passively, her eyes closed, leaning into the sensations. My resolve had been shredded, my cock throbbing painfully in my sweatpants, but now, fueled by the epiphany of taking charge—thanks to a bitter memory of my dad’s domineering advice—I wasn’t going to let Jess run the show anymore. I was the man of the house, and it was time to act like it. My voice came out sharp, a bark that cut through the charged air. “Jessica, stop it. Mom, go change into appropriate clothes. Now.”

Jess’s hands froze on Mom’s breasts, her smirk faltering as she registered the steel in my tone. Mom’s eyes snapped open, a mix of surprise and compliance flashing across her face as she nodded quickly, scurrying out of the kitchen toward her room. Jess started to say something, but I didn’t give her the chance. “Jess, come here. Turn around. Arms behind your back.” Her brows lifted, a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze, but she obeyed, stepping toward me, turning, and placing her arms behind her as instructed. They scrambled to do as I said, and I felt a surge of power, dark and intoxicating, as I grabbed some kitchen twine from a drawer, swiftly tying Jess’s wrists together with firm, deliberate knots. She didn’t resist, though I saw the first glint of fear enter her eyes as I gripped her bound arms and marched her into the living room.

Her breathing quickened, a nervous edge to it, but she stayed silent as I bent her over the arm of the couch, her ass up, her bare tits pressing into the fabric. I yanked her panties down in one rough tug, exposing her completely, her smooth skin on display as she tensed beneath me. I could see the anticipation in her posture, the way she braced herself, thinking I was about to fuck her, to take out all my frustration in the most primal way. But that wasn’t my plan. Instead, I raised my hand and brought it down hard on her bare ass. SMACK. The sound echoed through the room, her yelp of shock and pain piercing the air. SMACK. Again, and again, and again, each strike harder, my palm stinging as I spanked her with everything I had, turning her ass a bright, angry red.

I didn’t fuck my frustration out—I spanked it out, each hit a release of the pent-up chaos that had been tearing me apart since the wasp sting. As my hand came down, I growled through gritted teeth, “I’m in charge, Jess. I’m the man of the house, not you. You don’t run this show anymore.” At first, she yelped with each strike, sharp cries of pain, then her voice shifted to desperate pleas. “Chris, stop, please, it hurts!” she begged, her tone breaking, and soon she was crying, real tears, sobbing into the couch cushion as I kept going, lost in the rush of control, the need to assert myself blinding me to her distress.

A flicker of movement in my peripheral vision snapped me out of it. I turned my head, my hand pausing mid-air, to see Mom standing in the doorway, now fully dressed in jeans and a modest sweater, her face a mask of shock and fright. Her eyes were wide, her hand covering her mouth as she stared at Jess, bent over and bawling, her ass raw from my strikes. The sight of Mom’s horrified expression hit me like a bucket of ice water, dousing the dark heat that had driven me. I looked down at Jess, really looked at her—face down, sobbing uncontrollably, her voice a broken whisper of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over—and my heart shattered. Horror washed over me as I realized what I’d done. I’d taken things too far, lost control again, let that fucked-up surge of dominance turn into something cruel. My hands trembled as I dropped them to my sides, guilt clawing at my chest, the high of power replaced by sickening regret.

The weight of what I’d done crashed over me like a tidal wave as I stared down at Jess, bent over the couch arm, her ass bright red from my relentless spanking, her sobs echoing in the quiet living room. Her arms were still tied behind her back with the kitchen twine, her face buried in the cushion as she cried, repeating “I’m sorry” in a broken whisper. Mom stood in the doorway, fully dressed now, her expression a mix of shock and fear, and the sight of her horror snapped me out of the dark haze of dominance that had consumed me. My heart melted, guilt tearing through me—I’d taken things too far, lost control again, hurt Jess in a way I never intended. Without a word, I bent down, gently picking her up under her arms, her body trembling as I moved us to the middle of the couch. I sat down, pulling her close, hugging her tightly against my chest.

Her arms, still bound, prevented her from hugging back, but she leaned her head against me, her tears soaking into my shirt as she continued to cry, softer now but still raw with pain. I stroked her hair, my voice thick with regret as I murmured, “I’m so sorry, Jess. I didn’t mean to really hurt you. I got carried away, I ... fuck, I’m so sorry.” Mom stepped closer, her initial shock giving way to concern, and grabbed a tissue from a nearby box, holding it up to Jess’s nose so she could blow out the snot, her movements gentle and maternal. Then she sat down on the other side of Jess, wrapping her arms around her too, sandwiching her between us in a protective embrace. We stayed like that for a while, the silence heavy but comforting, the storm of emotions slowly settling as Jess’s sobs tapered off into quiet sniffles.

After what felt like forever, Jess’s spunkiness peeked through the haze of pain, her voice shaky but laced with her usual teasing edge. “You had me naked, face down, ass up, hands tied, and all you could think to do was spank me? Something wrong with you, big bro.” The three of us let out a much-needed chuckle, the tension breaking just enough to let us breathe, a sliver of normalcy creeping back in despite the fucked-up circumstances. I tilted Jess’s head up gently, looking into her tear-streaked face, and before I could stop myself, I kissed her—deep, passionate, very un-brotherly, my lips claiming hers with a raw intensity that spoke of everything we’d been through. “I love you, Jess,” I said, my voice low, sincere. She purred against me, her eyes half-lidded. “Hmmm, love you too, big bro.”

I pulled back, reality nudging at me, and turned to Mom. “Can you get the scissors? I need to free her.” Jess pouted, a playful glint returning to her gaze as she shifted in my lap. “I don’t mind being at your disposal, you know.” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Maybe later. Right now, we need to finish unpacking.” Mom returned with the scissors, and I carefully cut the twine, freeing Jess’s hands. She rubbed her wrists, giving me a mock-glare that quickly softened into a smirk. I stood, my tone firm but not harsh. “Get dressed, Jess. Fully dressed. Then help out.” She nodded, hopping up with a lingering look of mischief, and headed to her room to change, while Mom and I exchanged a quiet, complicated glance before returning to the kitchen tasks.

The rest of the day passed by almost normal, or as close to normal as things could get in the fucked-up whirlwind my life had become since that wasp sting. Jess and Mom worked alongside me to finish unpacking the last of the boxes, their movements efficient and focused, but there was an undercurrent of something more in the way they looked at me. Their eyes held a mix of awe and admiration, far beyond what a sister and mother should feel, lingering on me with unspoken intensity as we sorted through kitchenware and stacked books on shelves. I felt it too, the shift in power after the incident in the living room, the way they deferred to me now, waiting for my lead. By the time we were done, the house finally looked like a home, and we collapsed onto the couch in the dim evening light, exhausted but satisfied with the hard day’s work.

I sat in the middle, Jess snuggled up on my left, her head resting on my shoulder, and Mom on my right, her body pressed close, her hand resting lightly on my arm. For the first time all day, I let myself relax, the tension in my muscles easing as I sank into the cushions. But my body had other ideas. My cock, still swollen from whatever fucked-up chemistry was coursing through me, made itself known, hardening under my shorts with a persistent ache. It didn’t go unnoticed. Jess’s eyes flicked down, a sly smirk curling her lips as her hand moved, rubbing along the outside of my shorts, tracing the outline of my bulge with teasing strokes before she caught herself and pulled back. “Sorry, it’s just so mesmerizing,” she said, her voice half-apologetic, half-playful, her cheeks flushing slightly.

I looked at her, feeling a newfound clarity, a control over my desires that I hadn’t had before. “Well, you do need more work on your deep-throating,” I said, my tone even but carrying weight. Her face lit up, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Really?” she chirped, sliding off the couch in an instant, positioning herself between my legs on her knees, her hands already reaching for me. Mom shifted beside me, starting to stand, her voice soft but uncertain. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone—” she began, but Jess cut her off, her gaze darting between us, trying to gauge our reactions. “Or you could stay and help me out,” she said, her tone suggestive, a daring edge to it as she looked at Mom, then back at me, waiting for my response.

I sat there for a moment, feeling the weight of the decision, but also a strange calm. For the first time, I felt like I was in control of my sexual desires, not controlled by them. The raw, animalistic urge was still there, pulsing through me, but now I could choose how to act on it. If I wanted to enjoy a blowjob, I could enjoy a blowjob. If I decided no sex for now, then we wouldn’t have sex. And right now, I wanted to enjoy a blowjob from two women that I loved. The decision settled in my mind, firm and clear, and I looked at both of them, my voice steady but gentle, carrying the authority I’d claimed as the man of the house. “Stand in front of me, both of you. Facing each other.”

Jess’s smirk widened, a thrill flashing in her eyes, while Mom hesitated for only a second before complying, her expression a mix of nervous anticipation and trust. They stood before me, inches apart, facing one another as I sat on the couch, my gaze fixed on them, the air between us crackling with unspoken tension. I felt the power in this moment, the control I’d fought so hard to grasp, and I knew whatever happened next would be on my terms. For now, that was enough.