A room comes with a cost - Part 3 - Sexgeschichten

A room comes with a cost - Part 3

... Backtalk during motivation check. Demerit 3. Keep it up, sis... Dad's review tonight. Might hit the magic number."

The kitchen felt smaller, the air thicker, Mike's rules echoing in my head like a bad loop. Brief checks. Progress noted. My skin prickled under Steven's stare, nipples tightening against the fabric of my bra. Not from cold. From this. The exposure, the control. Anna's story had cracked something open last night... Lea's forced moans, the way her body bucked even as she sobbed.

Is that me now? Wet from a squeeze and a threat?

"Fuck your log," I muttered, turning back to the counters, scrubbing harder than needed. The tile bit into my bare feet, grounding me. Chore day number one under the new regime, and already three demerits. At five, consequences kicked in... whatever hell that meant.

Steven and Liam didn't leave. They watched, legs spread casual on the stool.

"Kitchen's done. Boys' room next."

I exhaled sharp, tossing the sponge in the sink.

"Yeah, yeah. Lead the way, warden."

Sass again? Probably. But biting it back felt like surrender, and I wasn't there. Not yet.

Their room hit me like a wall... stale sweat, unwashed socks, the faint musky undercurrent that made my stomach twist. Clothes everywhere, energy drink cans toppled like casualties, and under the beds? I didn't want to know.

"Under my bed first... got some... inspiration to clean."

His voice dripped mock-innocence, eyes on my bare legs, tracing the hem of my ...

... shorts where they clung to my hips.

Steven shut the door... soft click, not locked, but enough to trap the air.

"One hour starts now. On your knees."

I dropped, knees hitting the carpet with a thud that jarred my bones. The space under Liam's bed was a war zone: Dust bunnies, a crumpled comic, and... fuck... more tissues. Crusty, yellowed, the smell hitting sharp and salty. My hand hovered, stomach lurching.

"You animals. Can't you use a trash can?"

Liam chuckled, sliding off the bed to kneel behind me.

"Motivation, remember? Rule 1... uniform's for ease. Shorts off if you whine."

His breath ghosted my neck, close enough I felt the heat.

I froze, ass up from the crawl, shorts riding high enough to expose the crease where thigh met cheek. Rebellion surged... screw this, stand up, slap him... but the log loomed. Demerits. Room-sharing. Rent. I swallowed, reaching for the nearest tissue, the sticky drag on my fingers making me gag.

"Fine. Happy?"

"Not yet."

Liam's hand landed... not hard, but firm... cupping my ass through the fabric, squeezing slow. Like he was testing fruit. His thumb dipped lower, brushing the edge of my shorts, perilously close to the damp seam of my panties.

"Just a check. Rule says brief. You wet again, sis? Like in the vid?"

The vid. My face burned, buried under the bed, but my body? Traitor. A fresh pulse throbbed between my legs, clit aching against the cotton. I jerked forward, tissue clutched like a shield.

"Get. ...