Mind Rape
Chapter 28: The First Night
The cottage was completely silent except for their breathing.
Camilla stood over her brother, chest heaving, the filthy strap-on still jutting obscenely from her hips. Charles lay face-down on the cold concrete, drool, blood, and filth leaking from his mouth. His hands had finally been released from their fusion, but he hadn’t moved. He simply lay there, trembling, staring at the floor.
Sophia sat motionless in the corner chair, beer in one hand, the last of the t glowing between her fingers. She watched them without speaking, her expression calm and unreadable.
Camilla slowly unbuckled the harness and let it drop to the floor with a heavy thud. She looked down at Charles.
He looked up at her.
For the first time in their lives, there was no love between them. No twisted affection. No shared understanding.
Only hatred — pure, venomous, and absolute.
Camilla’s voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
“…You liked it.”
Charles didn’t deny it. He couldn’t. She had felt it through the link. She had felt the exact moment his mind betrayed him.
He looked away, shame and rage twisting across his face.
Camilla’s lip curled in disgust.
“You got hard while you were raping me,” she whispered. “Your own sister. You got off on it.”
Charles’s jaw clenched so hard she heard his teeth grind.
“Shut the fuck up.”
The short chain between their steel collars pulled taut with a soft metallic clink. They were now linked — barely eighteen inches apart — forced to remain face to face, breathing the same air, staring into the eyes of the person they now hated more than anything in the world.
Sophia took a slow drag from the t, exhaled, and spoke quietly from the corner.
“Get used to it,” Sophia said softly. “You’re going to be this close for a very long time.”
She let the words settle, then stood. Only then did she walk toward the door.
She paused in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight, and looked back at the two chained, broken figures.
Then, without moving her lips, she spoke directly inside their minds — her voice clear, calm, and intimate, as if she were standing between their thoughts:
Sweet dreams.
The invasion was total. They both felt her presence slide into their skulls like cold fingers, settling deep, making it unmistakably clear: she was in there now. She could watch them anytime. She could listen to every thought, every secret shame, every flicker of hatred or despair. There would be no privacy. No escape. Not even in their own heads.
Charles’s eyes widened in fresh horror. Camilla’s breath hitched.
Sophia smiled faintly, then stepped outside. She pulled the heavy steel door shut behind her and locked both deadbolts with two final, echoing clicks.
The sound faded down the path.
Then there was only silence — and the terrifying knowledge that Sophia was still with them, listening.