Chapter 26: Chapter 26 — A Mother and her daughter Getting on All Four.
He decided to push her reaction further, enjoying the way the power dynamic shifted when he exerted his big brother authority.
"Mira," he murmured, his voice dropping into that smooth, commanding tone that usually made her stiffen.
"Can you get up and turn around? Face your bum toward me. I want to make sure you’re properly clean, too."
He watched her closely, waiting to see if the defiance he knew was simmering beneath the surface would crack under his deliberate, provocative request.
Mira’s voice trembled, a tiny, high-pitched protest that barely broke the humid silence of the room. "No," she whispered, her face turning a deep, feverish crimson as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Not... not possible."
Kael studied her, noting the way her entire body seemed to vibrate with a mixture of shame and intense shyness.
He knew he had struck a raw nerve. Mira had always been an anomaly in their home.
while communal bathing and physical touch were the baseline of their life, she had harbored a fiercely guarded private space around her body that Kael hadn’t fully realized until now.
She hadn’t allowed anyone to touch her Butthole—not since she’d insisted her mother stop years ago—and the thought of her older brother, who had just spent the last half-hour defiling their mother, now demanding the same access to her, sent her into a state of embarrassment.
"Not possible?" Kael repeated, his voice mockingly soft, savoring the way she flinched at the sound.
He didn’t need to see her eyes to know she was mortified; the way she hunched her shoulders and clamped her knees together gave her away completely.
She felt like a total misfit in a house where boundaries were treated as mere suggestions, and her stubborn refusal was the only weapon she had left.
She was desperate to maintain that one last, tiny fortress of privacy, even if it made her look like the odd one out.
Amber watched the exchange, her expression shifting from doting pride in her son to a flicker of maternal confusion.
"Hey, Mom? I think Mira is just being a little shy," Kael said, his voice dripping with faux-concern as he kept his eyes locked on his sister’s flushed, averted face.
"Can you give her a little company with this? Show her it’s nothing to be ashamed of."
Amber blinked, looking between her children. Her maternal instinct was kicking in; she wanted Mira to be comfortable. "Of course, Ryu," she murmured, her voice soft and compliant.
"What do you suggest I do?"
Kael paused, thinking. He almost blurted out a command for a "doggy style" pose, but he caught himself just in time, remembering that dogs didn’t exist in their world.
He needed a reference point that would be immediately recognizable.
"Mom, just stand like a Ratga, please," he instructed, his gaze narrowing expectantly.
Amber stood still for a heartbeat, her brow furrowed in concentration as she processed the request.
The Ratga was a local beast of burden, known for a specific, submissive posture in the herd.
As the realization of what he was asking for struck her, her eyes widened slightly, and a faint, knowing flush crept up her neck.
She didn’t protest or ask for further clarification; she simply nodded in understanding.
She kneeled down on the ground, her movements fluid and obedient, and positioned herself in the center of the bathroom.
She bent forward, planting her palms against the stone floor and arching her back, mimicking the posture of the creature.
She remained perfectly still, a silent, visual command for Mira to see exactly what "being a good family member" looked like in their home.
The room went deathly quiet, the only sound the soft dripping of water, as Kael waited to see if the sight of their mother’s total, beast-like submission would finally break Mira’s resistance.
As Amber was settled into the stance with ease, her body naturally molding into the submissive posture, her back arched and her rear exposed.
Seeing their mother perfectly aligned in the requested position, Kael turned his amused gaze toward Mira.
He didn’t need to bark a command; the unspoken pressure of their mother’s compliance acted as a heavy weight, forcing Mira to cave.
With a pained, reluctant whimper, Mira shuffled into her knees, bracing her hands against the stone floor just like her mother and mimicking the posture.
Kael stood back for a moment, savoring the sight. He was the center of his own private world, presented with the most intimate, vulnerable parts of both his mother and his sister.
The sight of their backsides, offered up to him with such conditioned obedience, sent a jolt of pure, intoxicating triumph through his veins.
For a split second, the raw urge to shove his cock into them—to move from one to the other and claim them both—surged in his gut.
His member twitched with the demand, aching to assert his dominance in the most visceral way possible.
However, the latest merger of his memories held him back. He felt a newfound, cold clarity; he was no longer a slave to his immediate animal impulses.
He realized that the thrill of holding this power was, in many ways, just as satisfying as the act itself.
He took a steadying breath, his fingers twitching as he approached them.
With slow, deliberate movements, he reached out and placed his hands upon their ass, his fingers finding the targets he had been craving.
He didn’t rush. He began a slow, circular massage, his touch firm yet controlled.
As his fingertips pressed into the sensitive, puckered opening, he felt both women shudder in unison.
Amber let out a soft, low sound, her head dropping forward as she leaned deeper into the pose, her familiarity with this kind of attention making her body instantly responsive.
Beside her, Mira went rigid, her breathing hitching sharply. She had fought to keep this part of herself hidden, but under his steady, unrelenting pressure, the tension in her frame began to unravel.
She couldn’t hide her reaction—the way she arched her back, instinctively leaning into his touch despite her initial shame.
Kael watched them both, a soft, satisfied smile playing on his lips. The rhythmic friction of his fingers against them echoed through the quiet bathroom.
******
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