THE SENTENCE
“No one’s coming to save you, Aunt Margaret. You’re mine now, and you’re gonna pay with your body for every single second you walked all over me...”
That thought hammered in my head nonstop, blood boiling every time the memories hit.
I already knew exactly what I was going to do long before the Uber even pulled up in front of the house. I’d planned it all out, run through every step in my head — every possibility, every variable, every chance. That redheaded bitch was going to swallow every word she’d ever thrown in my face, even if it meant damning my soul straight to hell.
The house was a mess. Three open suitcases on the floor, plane tickets to Paris scattered across the coffee table, my mom’s floral perfume thick in the air. “Family problems,” “we need to take the next step with Grandma’s inheritance,” “we have to be there in person,” blah-blah-blah… I’d heard the same script so many times I could recite it by heart. The only thing that actually mattered was this: they were going to disappear for three entire weeks.
It would’ve been the perfect chance to enjoy the place alone — frying eggs naked at three in the morning, staying up all night gaming and drinking, bringing a few girls over for a proper fuck… absolute perfection. But it was never going to be like that. My parents still saw me as some irresponsible kid. They didn’t trust me alone in the house for a second, so they always had the same solution: Aunt Margaret.
Out of all the aunts, it always had to be that fucking disaster of an Aunt Margaret.
Every time they traveled, I ended up at her place. I wouldn’t have complained in other circumstances. But that woman was a walking catastrophe in human form. If she had ten chances a day to humiliate me for no reason, she’d take all ten. Always had been, always would be. It filled me with a bitter, rotting kind of hate. Her words cut deep, and I never really understood why she was so cruel to me. “You’re a disgrace of a man, a pathetic little stick of a person,” “you’re a fucking disappointment,” “I don’t know how my sister gave birth to such a useless son,” “why the fuck are you staring, you disgusting pervert,” “I bet you jerk off thinking about me — you make me sick” — and it only got worse from there. On top of that, she used me like a house slave for every chore she could dump on me.
“Dad… please, I’m begging you, just leave me alone. I can take care of the house!”
“Oh yeah? Then explain that little party you threw where our bed was covered in… well… semen? Seriously, they couldn’t use your room? We had to wash the entire set of sheets just to get the smell out! Not to mention you almost set the kitchen on fire.”
“It was just one time! I’ve changed, I swear!”
“Sorry, son…” He said it with zero real weight in his voice while he finished digging for documents. “Everything’s already arranged.”
“Yeah, your father’s right. My sister was more than happy to take you in.”
“But she’s a nightmare!”
“Son… don’t talk like that. She might be a little strict, but it’s for your own good. Discipline!”
I didn’t even finish listening. I just stormed off to my room, pissed.
Discipline my ass. That drunk bitch was the devil on earth.
When I came back downstairs, I’d already given up complaining to my parents. They never took me seriously. Even when Aunt Margaret humiliated me right in front of them, they just laughed like it was some big joke.
And then there were her weird, borderline suspicious behaviors.
I still remember the day we were having a barbecue at home. I went upstairs to my room to grab my swim trunks, and there she was — of all the rooms in the house, she picked mine. Worst of all: I was only fourteen at the time...
***
“Ah! A-Aunt, sorry, I didn’t know you were changing.”
“Come in and close the door,” she said like it was the most natural thing in the world. I expected anything but that. “Better hurry. If someone walks by and sees, you’re the one who’s fucked, Lucas.”
Out of pure fear I stepped inside and locked the door. She had her back to me, no panties on, that huge white ass and that sculpted body on full display — a body I still couldn’t believe belonged to a forty-something woman. I had to admit it: she was fucking hot. And I still had my doubts about whether my dad had ever had a thing with her. Aunt Margaret was the type who loved the feeling of hundreds of men drooling over her.
She let her bra drop to the floor, then turned around completely casually, showing off her heavy tits, the pink nipples, and that neatly trimmed pussy with the red hair. I swallowed hard. It was an insane sight, but she was my aunt, for fuck’s sake. I looked away out of politeness… well… sort of.
“Why are you looking away? You some little faggot who’s scared of women? I’ve already caught you staring, you sick incestuous pervert. Be a real man and look at me!”
“But—”
“‘But’ my ass!”
I heard her footsteps coming closer until she stopped right in front of me. I could feel her body heat. That sideways, wicked little smile on her face.
“Never seen a naked woman in front of you before? Never seen a pussy in your life? Fucking virgin…”
As if the whole situation wasn’t already insane enough, she grabbed my hand and pressed it hard against her cunt. I felt the texture of the hair, the soft skin, the warm, wet lips against my palm. I completely froze.
“How’s it feel to touch a pussy?” she laughed. “How cute… You really are a virgin. I could take that virginity right now, you know? But I won’t. You don’t deserve it, you weak little bitch. The day you feel a real pussy squeezing your cock, that’s when you’ll finally become a man!”
That was it. I had literally just been sexually assaulted in the most fucked-up way possible by my own aunt like it was the most normal thing in the world.
She looked down and saw the tent in my shorts. I was rock-hard and aching.
“Already hard? Pfff… Figures. I bet you’ll jerk off thinking about what just happened in here.”
She walked back to the closet, pulled on the bottom of her bikini, then the top.
“Lucas, make yourself useful for once and tie the straps behind my back.”
I went over, still shaking from what had just happened, cock still throbbing painfully. I grabbed the straps, hands trembling a little.
“A-Aunt, just step back a little, please.”
She took one step straight back. Her ass brushed right against my cock through the shorts. She felt it — of course she did — and didn’t move a muscle. My heart was about to explode. After a lot of struggle I finally got the straps tied.
Aunt Margaret didn’t say a word. Just a flat “that’ll do.” She adjusted her tits in the mirror, pulled the bikini higher so it dug into her pussy even more, and didn’t even bother with a dry “thanks.” She walked past me, and right before she left the room…
“If you tell anyone what happened in here, you’re a dead man, got it? Enjoy the fact that my used panties are still in your room. Smell them and jerk off — that cock of yours isn’t going down anytime soon.”
She left. I just stood there, trying to process what I’d seen. Cock throbbing so hard it hurt. And I have to admit… I couldn’t hold back. I locked the door, grabbed her panties, and sniffed them. That soft pussy scent mixed with her perfume. I felt like absolute trash, but I jerked off thinking about her. Imagined bending that bitch over and burying every inch inside her. Fuck the fact that she was my aunt — that cunt deserved it. I came fast, so worked up that I shot all over her panties and just left them on the floor. Then I pulled my shorts back on and went down to the pool carrying that filthy little secret.
I spent the rest of the day staring at her, my brain stripping her naked every time. And the worst part? She kept catching my eye, that same sideways smile, knowing exactly what she was doing.
Fucking pedophile!
***
But not this time. I’d already decided, and I wasn’t backing down. I had the perfect plan to get revenge on that alcoholic piece of shit, and this time it was for real.
Zolpidem.
That shit’s great for sleep, but mixed with alcohol it becomes a goddamn bomb. I saw it myself the day my mom — who takes it regularly for insomnia — insisted on having a glass of wine after taking it. The poor woman was knocked out the entire day. We almost called an ambulance when she finally woke up.
And that was all I needed. Aunt Margaret lived on alcohol, drunk most of the day. Two or three crushed pills in her wine and she was done. She’d be completely in my hands, any way I wanted her. Just thinking about it made my cock rise and my heart hammer with anticipation.
I’d already stashed a full bottle of my mom’s Zolpidem in the inner pocket of my jacket the night before. Perfect for Aunt Margaret.
“So it’s all settled, Lucas. Margaret’s already waiting for you.”
My dad’s words hit me, but this time it didn’t feel like a punch. Just confirmation. I was already expecting it. Already accepting it. Already ready.
“Dad, come on…” I tried the usual protest, just so I wouldn’t raise any suspicion. Voice a little higher, arms crossed against the doorframe. “I’m eighteen already. I can stay by myself. I’ll take care of the house, pay the bills, no parties this time, I swear.”
My dad didn’t even look up. Just kept zipping the suitcase. “We’ve already talked about this. You’re still irresponsible. House party, my bed covered in cum, almost burning the kitchen down… I can’t trust you, son. I’m sorry.”
“It was just once. I learned. Mom trusts me!”
My mom appeared holding her leather toiletry bag. Same look as always: everything was already decided. I was just a detail.
“Lucas, honey, Aunt Margaret offered her place. It’s better this way. She lives alone, has the space. You need supervision. Oregon isn’t that far. The house is quiet. You’ll be fine.”
“Quiet.”
The word still made me nauseous — only I knew what a living nightmare it was to stay with that inhuman thing. But this time it was different. I wasn’t going as the obedient little nephew. I was going with a clear goal in mind.
