Sharon beats Johhny.

She followed James to the bathroom, leaving John kneeling in darkness, listening to their footsteps fade, the taste of rubber filling his mouth, his cock still hard and traitorous in its prison.

 The en-suite shower in the master bedroom filled with steam, the vent struggling to clear the heavy, humid air. James moved with reverent precision, helping his Mistress—his sister—out of her designer dress, then her bra and panties, his fingers barely grazing her skin where permission hadn't been explicitly granted. His cock stood shamelessly hard, brushing against her thigh as he worked, the contact sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

His queen stood naked before him, perfect and terrifying. He dropped to his knees automatically, his training taking over. Sharon looked down at him, her chest swelling with a twisted pride. He'd had chances to leave—she'd given him that out, told him if he ever found real love elsewhere, he was free to go. But they'd both had opportunities, and somehow nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to her.

"Up," she ordered, her voice soft with affection.

He rose instantly, hands clasped behind his back, head bowed. She hooked a finger through the steel ring in his collar and pulled him close, claiming his mouth in a gentle, possessive kiss. Her other hand found his cock, stroking it with familiar mastery. She'd taken him in every hole, trained him to use this cock exactly how she liked it, and he'd been an exceptional student.

She led him into the oversized shower, pressed the soap into his hands, and turned her back to him. He began with her shoulders, lathering and massaging the muscles with worshipful care, his cock brushing against her arse with every movement. She sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch.

"Such a good boy," she murmured, her voice echoing off the tiles.

He worked his way down her body with worshipful precision, lathering every inch of her perfect skin. His soapy fingers explored the curves of her arse, slipped between her thighs, and found her cunt. She sighed and opened her legs wider, letting him slide two fingers inside her. The image of John strapped helplessly in his own bedroom flashed through her mind, and she moaned with pleasure.

"Such a good boy," she breathed, grinding against his hand. "My perfect, obedient brother."

She turned and pulled him up, pressing his face to her breast. He sucked her nipple between his teeth, flicking his tongue across it with the skill she'd taught him. She tugged his hair, guiding him to her other tit, the pleasure building until she couldn't wait any longer. She needed his well-trained cock, the one she'd molded into the perfect instrument of her pleasure.

"Enough," she commanded, pushing him away and stepping out of the shower. "Dry me. Now."

The urgency in her voice made James's cock throb. He turned off the water, grabbed a soft towel, and patted her dry with reverent care, his own body still dripping and ignored. She pushed him away, seized his hard cock in a firm grip, and used it as a leash to drag his soaking wet body out of the bathroom and onto John's bed.

“Look baby," she purred, pulling James down beside her. "We're going to fuck on it’s bed while the pathetic cunt kneels in the corner like a piece of discarded furniture. Isn't that delicious?"

"Yes, Ms. Sharon," James breathed, his eyes shining with devotion. "It doesn't deserve this bed. It doesn't deserve anything."

"You're absolutely right, my love." She pushed him onto his back and straddled him, her wet cunt sliding down onto his cock with a satisfied groan. "But you deserve this."

She rode him hard, her eyes locked on the blindfolded figure in the corner. "Can you hear this, Johnny boy? Can you hear your lowly secretary getting fucked properly by a real man in your bed, by my brother, my perfect slave, the man who made it so easy to destroy you?"

She came with a cry, her cunt clenching around James's cock. Sharon collapsed onto his chest, kissing him tenderly. "Such a good boy," she whispered. "My perfect, perfect brother."

She climbed from him, lay down, and opened her legs. He moved between them, she lifted her ass—he knew what she wanted. He took his cock, slick with her juices, and pushed it against her sphincter. She moaned and pulled her legs further apart, her hands falling to her pussy as he thrust deep into her arse. He fucked her hard and fast until he couldn't take any more.

"Please may I come, Ms. Sharon?" he pleaded.

"Yes, do it now, slave," she commanded, her voice thick with love and pride. "Fill me with your beautiful seed."

He erupted deep inside her arse with a shuddering groan of pure lust, his body collapsing onto hers. She held him close, stroking his hair, whispering praise while John knelt in darkness, listening to every sound of their perfect, twisted love.

"Clean me," she whispered into James's ear, her voice thick with satisfaction and love.

Without hesitation, he slid down her sweat-slicked body, his tongue already probing her stretched arsehole. He moaned as he tasted his own seed mixed with her most intimate juices, his fingers playing delicately around the lips of her cunt as his mouth worshipped her arse with the devotion she'd trained into him. She sighed and ground against his face, her hands tangling in his hair.

"Such a good boy," she breathed, her eyes drifting to the blindfolded figure in the corner. "So much better than that worthless cunt over there."

John heard every wet sound, every moan, every word. He heard the slap of skin, the slick noises of James's tongue working, Sharon's cries of pleasure. His own cock throbbed painfully in its rubber prison, the spring clips biting into his flesh. He hated himself for it. Hated that his body betrayed him even now.

"My turn now, baby boy," she told James, her voice warm with affection. "Go get it."

James pushed up from the bed, his cock still slick and half-hard, and went to the holdall with eager obedience. He returned moments later, kneeling before her to present a riding crop and a thick black strap-on cock with a harness.

Sharon held her arms out and parted her legs—clear instructions. James buckled the harness around her hips with reverent care, adjusting the straps until the fake cock jutted obscenely from her groin. He pressed a worshipful kiss to her thigh when he finished.

"Over the bed," she commanded, stepping to the bag to retrieve the lube James had forgotten. "You know better than that, baby. But you're so eager to please me, I'll forgive you."

"Thank you, Ms. Sharon," he breathed, positioning himself over the edge of the bed, legs spread wide.

She moved behind him, her eyes flicking to John in the corner. "Can you hear this, you worthless cunt? Can you hear your Mistress preparing to fuck her perfect slave on your bed?"

John heard the snap of the lube cap, the wet sounds of her coating the strap-on. He heard James's moan as she pressed the head against his arse.

"Please, Ms. Sharon," James begged, his voice thick with need. "Please fuck me."

"Such a good boy," she purred, pushing forward. "Always so ready for me."

James cried out in pleasure as she filled him, the sound muffled by the pillow. She fucked him with long, deep strokes, her hand reaching around to stroke his cock.

"Come for me, baby," she commanded. "Come while I fuck you on it's bed."

He obeyed instantly, his body shuddering as he spilled onto the sheets. She continued thrusting, her own pleasure building as she watched John kneel helplessly in the corner.

She came with a shuddering cry, her cunt clenching around nothing as the strap-on base pressed against her clit. She collapsed onto James's back, kissing his shoulder tenderly.

She picked up the crop and gently laid it across James's back.  He groaned and pushed back toward her. 

"Perfect," she whispered. "My perfect, perfect boy.” Then brought the crop down hard, again and again. James expected this; no pleasure without pain. It was all part of being owned by his sister.

John knelt in darkness, listening to their love, to the beating, to the moaning.  His own cock leaking in its prison, his mind fracturing with every sound..

Sharon pulled out of James with a plop, then whispered in his ear. 

He nodded and walked over to John and released the gag and pulled it out of his mouth. John barely realized his mouth was empty when a shit tipped rubber cock replaced the gag.