Now that I was Mom's and my sister Bree's freshly minted subby, Mom made it my job to get Bree, the beauty queen, ready for her dates, to make sure she looked like a million bucks. I was to make her look like she was ready to go out there and get her cunt plowed like a fucking cornfield!

It was all Mom's little scheme. And I had to admit; it was kinda hot. Anything involved with Bree was gonna be hot. She could recite the alphabet and make it hot!

Mom looked at me with a devilish smile. "Kota," she said, "I think you're going to be great at this. You've got such an eye for detail, and Bree's going to look stunning thanks to you!"

On the day of her date, Bree sauntered in, looking like she'd just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue. "Ready for my makeover, bitch?" she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. She knew how to make me crumble every damned time.

I gulped, my heart racing. "Yeah," I said, trying to sound cool. "Let's get you ready, babe." My cock was already rock hard.

We started with her hair, which she'd dyed a new shade of blonde. Par for the course. She'd gone with a sleek, straight look for her date, something that would show off her long neck and those incredible world-class tits of hers. As I brushed her hair out, I couldn't help but love the feel of it, as well as the smell of her shampoo. It was like I was in some kind of dreamworld, my cock trapped in that goddamn birdlock, begging for the attention it wasn't going to get. 

Then it was on to makeup. Mom had stocked up on all the best stuff, and I sat there, watching YouTube tutorials, trying to make sure I didn't fuck it up. I painted Bree's face like it was the Sistine Chapel, every stroke precise and deliberate.

As a result, Bree’s eyes popped with color, her lips full and pouty. I gave her blowjob lips like I was fucking Nostradamus predicting the future of her sex life. Of course, it didn’t require a National Merit Scholar to predict that blowjobs were gonna happen on her dates! By the time I finished, her entire look screamed that she was gonna get fucked hard. And I was the one helping to make it happen. It was weird, but also kinda hot, ya know?

Finally, the dress. Oh, the dress! It was a little black number that hugged her curves like a second skin. Mom had had it tailored especially for her. It had a plunging neckline that generously showed off her ample cleavage, and a slit up the side that went almost to her hip. She looked like she could break hearts just by walking into a room, sitting down, and crossing her legs. And here I was, the little sissy ineffectual brother, zipping her up and making sure she didn't pop out anywhere.

As I zipped her up, she turned to face me, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice sweet and innocent. Not really sweet and innocent. Bree's version of sweet and innocent.

"You look...beautiful," I said, my voice catching in my throat. And she did. She looked like a fucking goddess from a Renaissance painting. "You look edible, Bree. If I told you what I'm thinking, you would paddle my ass for sure!"

"Well, that says it all. Thanks, Kotes, you’ll never get a paddling for flattering me," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Bye now. Later gator, I don't want to be late!" And out the door she went. I just shook my head. The world wasn't ready for her. 

Much later that night, I ambled into the living room to see if Bree might be back yet.  And there she was, home from her date, lounging on the couch, her legs curled underneath her, her face flushed, and her eyes glazed over.

She looked up at me with a lazy smile. "Hey, little bro," she drawled, sounding like she had had a couple of drinks too many. Her voice, though, was thick with satisfaction. "How was your night, baby?"

I wanted to scream at her, to tell her that she didn't know the half of it, that I was her brother and she shouldn't be showing herself to me like this, all tipsy and freshly fucked! But all I managed was a pitiful whimper, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. She looked so beautiful, so content, that I couldn't find the words to express my anger. "It was a good night," I lied, my voice trembling. "How was yours, baby doll?"

Her smile grew wider, and she leaned back into the couch cushions. "Oh, Kotes," she said, her voice dripping with Bree sweetness. "You wouldn't believe. His thing was so big, so much bigger than your little thingy thing." She giggled, her hand idly playing with the key hanging from her necklace. "But I'm still so horny. Super horny, baby. And I have a giant load of cum in my poor little pussy. I need someone like you to clean me up. No. Let me change that. I need YOU to clean me up, Kotes. I bet you're good for that!""

The air in the room grew thick. I knew what she was going to ask before the words even left her lips. "I really got dicked down tonight, Kotes," she said. "But I'm hoping you'd be willing to help out your messy sister. I’m all sticky down there."

I nodded, my eyes fixed on the floor. I didn't want to look at her, to see the amusement in her gaze. Oh my god, the power she had over me! But as she led me into her bedroom, I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of excitement.

The scent of sex clung to her, and my mouth watered at the thought of what was to come. My mouth and tongue were about to become her slaves. She pulled off her soggy panties then leaned back on the bed, her legs spread widely, lewdly, cum oozing from her and dripping onto her thighs and into her ass crack.

Her pussy was swollen. That dude, whoever the fuck he was, had beat that shit up! Good for him! The evidence of his passion was smeared around her entrance. The whole scene screamed "WHORE!" I knelt before her, feeling like a supplicant, and leaned in to do her bidding.

I would have done anything for her. I was willing to die with my face in her pussy. My tongue darted out, tasting the salty, musky flavor that was both repellent and intoxicating. She sighed above me, her hand tangling my hair. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "You’re such a good baby. Just like that, baby."

I lapped at her, my tongue circling her clit, dipping into her cunt to gather up the sticky mess. And I swallowed the sticky mess. Then her hips began to rock, pushing herself more firmly into my face, and I knew she was enjoying this. Why shouldn’t she? She was Bree. All that mattered was making her happy, making her come. I wanted to make the drunk beauty queen come!

And when she did, it was a flood of sensations for both her and me. Her thighs tightened around my head, her body arching off the bed. I placed my hands under her ass cheeks and buried my face in her, licking and sucking for all I was worth. Her cries of pleasure filled the room. She called out my name, and I felt pride swell in my chest as her convulsive orgasm tore through her.

I had done this for her! Bree, the love of my life, had called out my name while she was coming! I had eaten Bree's pussy! Bree, motherfucker! Wrap your mind around that! And as she collapsed back onto the mattress, her hand stroking my cheek, I knew that I would do it again…10,000 times…100,000 times…for her.

Bree leaned over and whispered in my ear, her breath hot and sweet with lust. "You can sleep with me tonight, baby," she said. "But only if you promise to be a good boy and not try anything funny. I won’t put up with that. You're my little wuss, and I need you to remember your wuss place."

I nodded eagerly, my heart racing. To sleep in the same bed with Bree was a dream come true, even if it was under these fucked-up circumstances. She slid under the covers and patted the spot beside her, and I crawled in, feeling like the luckiest wuss in the world. 

The next morning, the Nevada sun peeked through the lacy curtains of her bedroom window. Bree stirred beside me, her breathing even and deep as she slept. I couldn't believe she had allowed this, that I was lying here with her…her body warm and soft against mine. The scent of her perfume and the lingering musk of sex still hung in the air, making my poor cock throb.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked over at me with a sleepy smile. "Good morning, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice all velvety. "You were so good to me last night, baby. Exactly what I needed."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on me. "Bree," I managed to croak out, "kissing you and loving you down there was the highlight of my life. You give my life a purpose. But I have something that I need to ask you, but I'm afraid to. I’m terrified."

She asked, "What do you need to ask me, little wussy man?" 

I took a deep breath, feeling the fear coil in my stomach. "Bree," I whispered, "please let me make love to you again like I did last night. Please allow me to be your steady lover in that way. I know I'm not the kind of guy a girl like you wants to fuck. But I could be your steady pussy-eating boyfriend, your boyfriend just for that. And I would be loyal to you and obey you. You could even tell your friends. That would embarrass me, but it would be okay."

Her smile grew, and she leaned in to kiss me, her lips soft and gentle. "Don't be afraid, Kotes," she murmured. "You're exactly what I want. But not like that. You could never be man enough to be my steady boyfriend, even in that way.” 

“Look at me. Kotes! You're not on my level, and you never will be. I’m Bree. You're perfect for me in every way when I'm coming home from a date!. I'll tell my friends about that. That will be what they know about you and that's all they would even want to know about you. You're nothing to a pretty girl! You're only something to laugh about. There's not a pretty girl in this world willing to take you seriously. But we'll have some fun with that, most likely at your expense," she said as she giggled. But you're to tell no one about cleaning me up after my dates, except maybe Mom. Do you understand?”

“Don't take on any airs that you are my equal. You have never been on my level. If you ever want to see me crazy pissed off, just act like you are my equal. That will earn you a long bout with the wooden paddle! You must obey me, Kotes! Disobedience will get you discarded!"

Despite the cruel rejection, my heart soared because I was with her. I kissed her with everything I had. This was it. I was going to be hers, not in the way I wanted, but still truly hers. Her hand trailed down my body, her fingers tracing the line of my cock through the fabric of my pajama bottoms. "Good boy," she whispered. "You know your place now."

We lay there for a while, our bodies tangled together, the early morning light playing across our skin. Bree's attitude toward me softened, and her hand stroked me, her touch light and teasing. "You know," she said, "you really are good at eating pussy. Maybe it's because you're so eager to please, so desperate for me to love you." 

I blushed, unable to find the words to respond. The truth was, I would do anything for her love. "I just want to make you happy," I murmured. 

"And you do," she said, her voice low and satisfied. "You made me so happy last night." 

Her hand moved lower, slipping under the pajama bottoms until it was wrapped around my cock. My cock, which probably felt so small to her, grew in her hand, hard and eager. "But remember, you're mine, and I'm the only one who gets to use you to eat my pussy after dates. Promise?" 

I nodded fervently, willing to agree to anything she asked. "Yes, Bree, I promise," I whispered. "I'll be that for you. I'm yours. Only yours."

Then I slipped out of bed, my legs wobbly, and stumbled to the bathroom to clean up. Looking in the mirror, I saw the marks she had left on my body just last night, the bruises from her fingertips as she had gripped me in her horny, tipsy frenzy. But instead of feeling ashamed, I felt...proud. This was what love looked like, I told myself. This was what it meant to belong to someone. And I belonged to Bree. Heart and soul.

Later, as we walked from her bedroom together, me in my frilly pajama bottoms that she had bought me, and her in a short silk robe that barely covered her perfect ass, I felt a newfound confidence. I was Bree's little wussy man, her post-date pussy-eating little brother. And even though the world outside might not understand, I felt like I was on top of the world!

We made our way to the kitchen, where Mom was already busy preparing breakfast. She looked up at us with an amused smile. "Looks like someone had a busy night," she said.

Bree giggled, looping her arm through mine. "We did, Mom," she said, her voice light and carefree. "My date was fabulous! And when I got home, Kota was such a good boy."

Mom's smile grew wider, and she winked at me. Winked? Isn't winking the corniest thing? "I'm so happy for you both," she said. But there was something else there, something that made my stomach tighten. Was she...proud of me? Why couldn’t she say it? I needed her to be proud of me.

We sat down at the table, and Mom served us breakfast with a flourish. I couldn't help but feel a thrill as I ate. I was thrilled that I had made Bree happy. It was a strange feeling, this mix of loving her and being humiliated by her. But it was my feeling, and I cherished it. 

And then, as if on cue, the doorbell rang. "Oh, that's Emily," Mom said, wiping her hands on her apron.

Emily barged in, her usual loud and boisterous self. She took one look at me and her eyes narrowed. "What's this?" she asked, pointing at my frilly pajama bottoms. "You're still a boy!"

Mom and Bree shared a knowing smile, and I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. "Emily," Mom began, "Kota has been a bit of a naughty boy lately. I believe he needs a lesson in manners."

"Ah," Emily said, her smile wicked. "I know just the thing for that. Did you really buy it?"

Mom nodded and disappeared into her bedroom, returning with a thick, long, and entirely intimidating strap-on dildo. It was easily the largest I had ever seen. My heart sank. Shit was about to get real.

"Sissies need to be fucked," Emily declared, her voice sharp as a knife. "And we've got just the tool for the job."

Bree and Mom cackled, their laughter echoing through the house. I felt trapped, like a rabbit caught in a snare. I looked at Mom, my eyes pleading for mercy, but she just winked again and smiled at me. "Don't worry, Kota," she said, patting my cheek. "This will be good for you. It'll keep you in line."

They had me bend over the kitchen island, my pajama bottoms around my ankles. The coldness of the granite sent a shiver up my spine. Mom lubed me up, her hands gentle and firm as she worked the gel into my trembling asshole. "You're going to take this like a champ, baby," she murmured.

And then it was there, pressing against me, the head of the dildo nudging at my tight little opening. I felt Bree's hand on my back, pushing down, and Emily's hand on the base, guiding it in. But it was Mom fucking me. "Relax," Bree whispered, her voice a seductive purr. "It'll fit, baby."

It didn't fit. It hurt. A lot. My mom was hurting me! But I bit my lip and took it willingly, trying not to scream. I could feel the stretch, the burn, the invasion. And with each inch that disappeared inside me, I felt more and more like their prisoner, their little bitch prisoner. But I didn't fight it. I accepted it. If they thought that this was something I needed and deserved, then so be it!

They took turns fucking me, Mom first, then Bree, and finally Emily. Each thrust was a punishment, a reminder that I was theirs to use, not as I saw fit, but as they saw fit. And with every grunt and groan, I felt myself getting closer to a climax. But this was wrong, so wrong. I was being gangbanged by the three prettiest women I knew! Could my life be any more fucked up?

When it was Emily's turn, she was brutal. That was just Emily being Emily. Mom had fucked me in a gentle, nurturing way. Bree had fucked me in her red-hot sex goddess way. Now this.

I looked at...