This choice: Leave Ashley's sister alone • Go Back...Chapter #11Meet the Wrights by: Nostrum   Maybe it's your nerves that are telling you there's something off with Ashley's sister. Other than that odd booty shake, why would you think her sister is really a man wearing her skin? Maybe she's just like this – a flirty tomboy who pesters her older sister. Why wouldn't that be the case?
You're going on your instincts at this, and your association with your own sisters. You wouldn't dare to shake your groin at Tina, even as a joke. She's got a banging body – one that Ashley and her sister would envy; Tina's got your mom's old looks – and you've gotten awkward boners out of it, but the thought disgusts you.
Claire, on the other hand, has always been a pest, and surely not just to you. Maybe Ashley's sister was as flat as Claire is now, but after her growth spurt (and boy did her sister grew up!), she started taunting her by showing off her peachy ass just to shove to her that she's a grown-up now.
You've never paid interest to how your sisters interact with each other, and while you can't say you are regretting it, you do feel it'd be useful now. Because it would be a pain to explain why you'd take a roller from Ashley's kitchen and smack her on her back. That would be evil. And your only excuse would be hypocritical, since you are doing the same thing that you're suspicious about.
Thus, you are better off going safe. You'll still be behind her, in the odd case your nerves are on point, but you'll try to embody a sisterly attitude. You lead her to your room, and the first thing you two notice is the stench of brine enveloping it.
Her sister snorts, smirking impishly. "If Mom caught a whiff of this, you wouldn't know the end of it!” She ruffles around – your heart stopping as she's about to glance under the bed – exploring all corners. “How many times?”
You're unsure how to answer, giving a very conservative but still realistic number. “Um... Occasionally. When I'm getting stressed.”
“I wonder what startled you to make this room stink like a whorehouse.” Maybe the reason you suspect is her sister's lack of filter. A whorehouse? Why would she know about that?
Then, her eyes lie squarely upon the pen. “Hey, what's this--?”
You quickly snatch it off her hands, keeping it out of sight. “It's a pen I took from work.”
“Really? Ashley-Two-Shoes, who wouldn’t break a plate even if it’d save her life, going rogue this late in life?”
You shiver, as you know how siblings can be creative with nicknames. You're pretty sure Ashley had a good comeback, but you don’t even know her name. What if her sister notices something wrong with you?
“Um, well... I said 'stole', but to be honest--”
“It slipped into your purse, didn't it?” She gives you a querulous look, circling you. “Not gonna lie, it's pretty. Must've been from your boss or something, with all those engravings and stuff.”
“You...” You gulp, trying to match her cornering. “You could say that.”
“And your boss hasn't said anything about it?” She snorts in a sassy and knowing way. “Must be pretty careless.”
“Yeah,” you say, your trembling thumb dangerously close to the pen's trigger button. “I guess.”
“They're pretty rare.” She opens her purse, drawing one just like it.
Oh, fuck...
“One of a kind, you'd say.”
Caught, you awkwardly ready the pen at her. “Who are you?”
“I'd ask the same thing, but I don’t think that’ll matter.” She draws another pen – a brown one – as she smirks. “I can always extract it from you.”
And just like that, you feel lethargy overwhelming you, and you collapse into a very deep sleep.
--
“Wakey-wakey, Stony Davey!” You could swear Tina's taunting you--
Shit! Your eyes are still blurry, but you already fear. Is this what people feel when shot by the pen? A deep sleep? What if whoever was inside that girl got into you and zapped your whole family, and now you're about to be taunted by someone else wearing your sister's skin?
You gasp and sob, but as your awareness awakens, you hear another, much more familiar voice.
Ashley's own. “God, kid – you're pathetic.”
“Shut up, Sis! He already knows he's in deep shit – no need to make it worse.” And it seems her “sister” was the voice you heard before – close, as she's mounting you.
“I don't know what the hell got into you, Quen.”
“Certainly nobody, Trev.”
Shit, you think to yourself. Don’t tell me the creep and whoever this one is are--
“I still don't get why we didn't deal with his family.”
“Remember what Mom says – out of sight, out of mind.” The woman – the impostor – caresses you as you sob. “Don’t worry, kiddo – us perverts always stay together.”
“I'm still gonna tell Marv about it. Kid needs to learn a lesson.”
“Mom, Ash. She's our mom now.”
“Right.” You notice Ashley approaching you, sneering. “Hope you had fun with my body, you little pissant. It'll be the last thing you’ll savor before we fuck you up.”
“Unless Mom says something else,” the other impostor says as “she” steps away. “And good going, Sis – you scared his morning wood away.”
“You're so gay, Quen.”
“Cass,” the impostor clarifies. “It's Cassie now. And you're seriously not gonna hump a guy? There're benefits to being bi – Hell, I think I'm going full pan. The kid's right up your alley, after all.”
“I'm only interested in soft, virgin pussy.” Ashley's attitude is even nastier than what little you saw back then. “Unless he's wearing that little sister of his, don't even call me.”
“I'll bring you the strap-on, even.” The impostor – “Cassie”, or “Quen”, or whatever – helps you sit, making you realize you're actually bound to the bed, and caresses you. “See? Cassie's always thinking about you two!”
“Whatever. Put the kid to sleep – maybe it's better if he doesn't know his fate.”
“True.” You see the flash of the pen in the dim light, and a smirking Cassie’s face. “Nighty night, Davey. Sleep tight and keep that woody upright...”
--
“Is this the kid?” You hear a full mature voice asking. She seems amused. “First time we got one that's actually cute.”
“Marv,” you hear Ashley complaining, and you feel a heavy pressure saturating the air.
“Tessa, my dear. And if I hear you say my old name one more time, we're gonna have some trouble.”
“Whatever.”
“Show some respect, dear. If it weren't because of me, you wouldn't be inside your wet dream of my daughter right not. I am your mother now. Is that clear?”
As it sinks in, you realize how deep in shit you are. It seems it's a gang, with this “Marv” being their boss, and they have taken over Ashley’s family, with the creep – Trev – taking over Ashley herself. And now you've given them a reason to take over yours.
“Yes, mother.” “Ashley” steps away, mumbling low but clear. “I swear, you two have gone all Fruit-Loops...”
“I thought you'd be happy being her. It seems you aren't.” The older woman's attention focuses on you, and as your eyes clear, you witness her magnificence. Tessa Wright is the culmination of what Ashley Wright is becoming – aged, with a few wrinkles hidden between her blonde curly side bangs free from a tight bun, pointing straight at her massive bangers. “MILF” doesn’t do her justice – she is Venus, draped in elegant business attire, with sparkling evil green eyes and a disarming smile.
And she's smiling as she hangs the sword of Damocles atop you. “As for you... I heard from my dear Cassie that you slipped into my daughter Ashley, am I right?”
“Um...” Your voice quavers as you nod. “Y-yes, ma’am."
“Was it fun?”
You shiver, and you feel Cassie’s soft, slender fingers caressing you. “It's alright, kiddo! We’re between friendlies now – except for my sourpuss of a sister--”
“Shut up, Cass.”
“Whatever. She’s on her pissy period.” You feel a murderous gaze from Ashley that makes Cassie flinch. “Alright, alright – you fucked him up good, and not in the sexy way, and she now hates your guts. But the way that room stank, you must've been on fucking marathonic sessions.” She cackles, rubbing your chest. “Oh God, I didn't even think about that! Fucking marathon sessions...”
“Yes, my dear – very funny...” Tessa cruelly and professionally sets her “daughter” aside. “There's no need to fear, my boy. Maybe if Ashley allowed her pussy to do the talking, she'd be on a better mood.”
“She was going on not so long ago, Mom.”
“She'll need more time to adapt, then.” Tessa crosses her leg, resting her arm elegantly atop it. “Cassandra, how good the kid's at improvisation?”
“Needs more training,” Cassie’s impostor claims, “but he can adapt quickly. I almost swore he clocked me. Fucked up at the last inning, tho.”
“Maybe, but not as bad as Ashley over here.” Tessa glares at her older “daughter” with a judging expression. “You were caught.”
“It was my only chance.”
“A kid caught you, followed you, took over and did better than you. The way I see it, he's more useful to me than you are. If it weren’t because I like you, I'd leave you to rot as a skin for all I care.”
“What do you mean!?”
“What I'm saying, Trevor. Ashley fucked your life, and I agree you deserve justice, but if you're going to be that sloppy...”
“And what about he?” the fake Ashley asks while pointing at you.
“He seized an opportunity. That’s a valuable trait to have.” Tessa stands up, sitting near you – the scent of her perfume overcoming your senses. “He still fucked up with you,” she says as she rubs your hair, “and I can't let anyone harm my family.”
“Then why praise him like that? Get his family to our collection and--”
“Too risky, my dear. Terrible logistics. But I believe in karmic justice, and I praise determination.” She grins, mixing majesty with malevolence in her face. “I want to test him. You said something about a neighbor, didn't you?”  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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