One Trip Two Dommes Zero Way Back

The last glow of sunlight faded into the Croatian hills as I stepped off the train, dragging my bag through a mix of gravel and dirt. It was October 30th, and I'd just traveled the length of the coast from Split to this obscure little village, answering an invite from my cousin Mila. She'd texted me a couple days ago, practically begging me to crash some weekend getaway at her friend Ana's family vacation house. The hook? No parents. Halloween party. Weird people. Even weirder costumes.

I hesitated at first, but curiosity and boredom won out.

The walk to the house felt like something out of a horror flick: tall, bare trees, a silent breeze moving through the fields, a pale moon rising early. But then I saw it warm light glowing behind thick glass windows, flickers of candlelight, jack-o'-lanterns grinning on the steps. Ana's place was a rustic stone villa, charming as hell and clearly dressed for the occasion. Fake spiderwebs stretched across the porch, a skeleton sat grinning in a rocking chair, and bats dangled overhead on frayed strings.

Before I could knock, the door opened, and he answered it.

Tall, fit, hazel-eyed, and shirtless under a half-zipped hoodie Stefan. English-Serbian accent thick as honey, jaw carved from marble, and arms that looked like they were made for lifting people, not weights.

"You must be the cousin," he said with a friendly smirk, stepping back to let me in. "Ana told me you were coming."

He offered a hand. It nearly swallowed mine. I was tall myself, but this guy had a presence that didn't need height. He closed the door behind me and nodded toward the living room. "They're rolling up in there."

I stepped into the warmth of the villa wood floors, exposed beams, flickering firelight and found Mila cross-legged on the couch, bent over a pack of rolling papers and a jar of suspicious herbs. She looked up with a grin and gave me a lazy wave, dressed like summer never ended: tiny purple shorts, a tank top no thicker than gauze, and socks with bats on them.

"You made it! Thought you'd flake, honestly."

"Almost did," I muttered, dropping my bag. "Who's the guy?"

"Stefan. Ana matched with him on Tinder like... four days ago? They hit it off hard. He drove here from Belgrade last night. Now he's her Halloween boyfriend or something."

Of course.

We passed the joint around, talking shit about the summer, about our families, about the creepy isolation of this place. Ana was upstairs getting ready. Mila teased me about having to sleep in the basement, and I told her I didn't mind as long as there was hot water and no bugs.

Eventually, I excused myself to shower and headed downstairs. The guest room was small but comfortable, and the basement had a sleek modern bathroom that looked suspiciously upgraded probably Ana's dad showing off.

While unpacking, something hit me out of nowhere a sudden, horny pulse like someone flipped a switch in my head. Maybe it was the weed. Or maybe the tension in the air, or Stefan's absurd vibe still burned into my memory.

I rushed into the bathroom, locked the door, yanked off my jeans, and sat on the toilet lid, cock already hard. My brain scrambled for something to focus on and then I saw it.

Hanging from the towel rack was a black bikini top. Lacy. Elegant. Too big and grown-up to be Ana's or Mila's. It had to belong to Ana's mother.

I leaned down, took it in my hands. It smelled faintly like pool water and expensive perfume. My cock throbbed. I placed the cups on the tiled floor in front of me, leaned over them, stroking myself as filthy thoughts overtook me wrong, shameful, delicious thoughts.

I was close. My breath was hot. My balls tightened

CREEEAK.

The door.

It wasn't locked after all.

I froze.

Ana stood in the doorway, backlit by hallway light, wearing a black silk robe that barely hung on her shoulders, her dark hair loose around her face. Her lips parted when she saw me: pantsless, hunched over, jerking off over her mom's bra.

"Oh... wow," she said, one eyebrow rising with amused surprise. "Didn't mean to interrupt your... alone time."

I stammered. "Shit I didn't I thought the door"

Ana stepped inside slowly, smirking, letting the door shut behind her. "You know... I just came to grab my eyeliner. But this..." she pointed to the scene in front of her, "...this is so much better."

I fumbled to cover myself. "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh?" She crossed her arms, still smirking. "Because it looks exactly like you were jerking off to my mom's bikini."

I turned red. Fully, deeply red. "I was just look, I don't usually do this, alright? It was stupid. I'm"

"You're shy," she interrupted, circling me slowly. "That's kinda cute."

I tried to stand, but she leaned forward and stopped me with a hand on my chest.

"Sit. Don't make this weirder than it already is."

"I really didn't mean"

"Oh, I believe you," she said. "Which makes it even better. You're all flustered and guilty. Poor thing." Her voice dropped, teasing and slow. "Bet your heart's racing, huh? Cock still hard too."

She stepped closer until she was standing right between my spread knees. Then, with no warning, she reached down and wrapped her fingers around my shaft.

"Goddamn," she whispered, half-laughing. "You're really leaking. You were about to cum, weren't you? Over my mom's bra? You little perv."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Her grip was firm, slow, and completely in control. She began to stroke, deliberately cruel in her pace.

"You know," she said, leaning in, "I should probably be offended. Or tell Mila. Or Stefan."

My entire body tensed.

"But I won't. Because this is too much fun."

Her thumb slid over my tip. I groaned. She bent lower, her robe gaping just enough to show the curve of her breasts.

"You're gonna cum for me right now," she whispered. "Then you're gonna clean it off my hand. And then I'll decide what costume you'll be wearing tonight."

And just like that, the treat became a trick.

I was still on my knees, trembling. My throat coated in the lingering taste of my own cum, my lips raw from her hand, and Ana standing over me with the grin of a deviless who'd just watched a man unravel. My chest heaved, breath coming in shallow gulps, heart thumping like it wanted to punch a hole through my ribs.

She held her sticky palm in front of my mouth again, fingers spread, slow and taunting.

"Clean it," she whispered, tone light like she was offering candy not the aftertaste of humiliation.

I hesitated.

"Don't pretend you're shy now," she added, raising an eyebrow. "You were about to cum on a bikini, remember?"

Red in the face, still leaking precum through the front of the panties she'd forced me into, I opened my mouth and let her press each cum-coated finger against my tongue. I swallowed around the bitter salt, and she watched eyes scanning every twitch of my face, every little gag I tried to suppress.

Then she pulled her phone out and tapped quickly, her thumbs flying across the screen as if she were taking notes mid-experiment.

"W-who are you texting?" I asked, throat still scratchy.

Her smile didn't fade. She didn't answer.

"Just making sure everything's... ready," she said cryptically, slipping the phone into her robe pocket.

Then her eyes snapped back to mine, sharp as a knife but playful in that terrifying, gorgeous way of hers.

"Tell me something," Ana said, leaning in so close I could feel her breath. "Have you ever done that before?"

I blinked. "W-what?"

"Eaten your own cum."

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

"I'll take that silence as a yes. Or maybe... you've wanted to?"

I squirmed, ears burning. "I-I... no. This isn't... I'm not like that."

Her smile widened. "Not like what?"

"I'm not into... guys. Or any of this. It's just the weed, the situation"

"Oh, so this was just a mistake?" she asked, mock-hurt. "But you were so eager down there. So cute licking your mess off my fingers. Maybe you're a little... bi-curious?"

My stomach twisted. "No."

"Are you sure?" she asked, her fingers brushing my cheek, her other hand already back on her phone. "Because I think we should test that."

She sent another text.

I saw it. Her fingers tapped out something deliberate. I didn't see who it went to just the wicked gleam in her eyes when she slipped it away again.

I swallowed hard. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing. Just setting the mood. You'll love it."

She stood, grabbed a black glossy gift box from the dresser, and dropped it in front of me.

"Now, time to dress you properly."

I opened the box with trembling hands.

Inside was a humiliating masterpiece: long white thigh-high socks with pink bows, a pair of tight black panties with a printed heart that read "Kitten", a sheer pastel-pink crop top that said "Daddy's Girl", and a matching collar with rhinestones spelling out SLUT. Tucked beneath it all? A set of clip-on cat ears, glittery and soft.

"You're fucking joking"

"Nope," she chirped. "You need to look the part. It's Halloween, remember?"

I looked up at her, stunned. She only raised a brow and gestured with her phone.

"Do I need to remind you what happens if you say no?"

I didn't.

Soon I was standing in front of the mirror, blushing so hard I thought I might pass out. The panties clung to my hips, slightly sheer where my hard-on strained against them. The crop top didn't even reach my belly button, and the words on it made me want to sink through the floor. She clipped the collar on, kissed my cheek, and pushed the cat ears onto my head with a satisfied smirk.

"There. Fuckable."

I flinched.

She pulled out the tail plug next.

"Bend over."

The lube was cold. The plug slid in with slow pressure and a little moan I didn't mean to make.

"Crawl."

I dropped to all fours, humiliated beyond words, the butt plug shifting inside me with every motion.

"I don't want Mila to see me like this," I said, my voice cracking. "Please don't"

Ana rolled her eyes and tugged on the leash.

"She's not here," she said. "I texted her earlier to go pick up the rest of the guests. I told her we needed extra drinks. She won't be back until the party starts."

She winked. "So you've got me alllll to yourself for now."

We made our way up the stairs, me crawling, her walking ahead like she was parading a prize animal.

Every creak of the floorboards echoed in my ears like thunder.

But when we reached the lounge, the air was too quiet. The lights dimmer than before.

I didn't realize where we were headed until she opened the side room door.

Stefan was there.

Still on the couch. Shirt off. Legs spread. His massive cock already hard, throbbing between his thighs.

He turned when we entered and smiled.

"Perfect timing," he said in that slow, deep Serbian drawl.

And then it clicked.

The second text. The smirk on her face. The way she positioned me, leash in hand, tail in ass, kneeling like a gift.

"You... you told him?"

Ana grinned down at me.

"Of course. This was all part of the plan, sweetheart."

Stefan stood, looming over me like a predator.

Ana crouched behind me, fingers running down my back like a proud owner petting her pet.

"Now be a good kitty," she whispered, "and show me just how bi-curious you really are."

I don't know how long I knelt there.

The collar was tight around my throat. The tail plug shifted with every twitch of my hips. My heart was racing in my chest, and I couldn't tell if it was fear or arousal anymore probably both.

Ana stood behind me, leash in hand, her grip firm but casual. The way she looked at me had changed no longer amused or teasing, but clinical. Like a trainer evaluating an animal before deciding how far it could be pushed.

And Stefan?

He was in front of me, hard as steel, grinning like the beast he was the silent executioner of Ana's plan.

It wasn't just a game anymore. It was something bigger. A session. A test. And I was the subject.

Ana crouched down beside me and tilted my face to hers with two fingers beneath my chin. Her voice was soft terrifyingly so.

"I want to see how far you can go," she said. "I think you've barely scratched the surface of what you can take. What you can become."

I swallowed. My mouth still tasted like shame.

She kissed my cheek gently. Then whispered, "And when we're done... I want you to thank me."

The words rattled through my chest like a gong.

She didn't wait for a reply. She stood and gave the leash a tug, guiding me to the center of the carpeted room like a pet being positioned for display. My knees sank into the soft fibers, and every nerve in my body screamed with anticipation.

Stefan stepped forward. Thick. Towering. His cock bobbing with each step.

"Are you ready?" Ana asked, circling me slowly.

I hesitated.

She leaned in, voice right against my ear. "That wasn't a question."

I nodded.

Stefan moved behind me, and I felt the heat of his body, the tension in the air sharpening like a blade.

His hand slid over my back, then down to my ass, gripping one cheek before parting them with slow, cruel confidence.

He teased the tip of his cock at my hole, spreading the lube Ana had generously left behind. He pressed just the head in then pulled back. Teased again. Then circled the tight rim, smearing precum around the ring.

Ana knelt in front of me now, cupping my face with both hands.

"You know what I texted him?" she whispered. "That you needed help figuring out who you really are."

My heart dropped.

Stefan giggled low behind me a deep, nasty sound.

Then

THRUST.

He slammed inside.

All of him.

I let out a strangled gasp no, a scream. It felt like I was being split in two. The burn was sharp, shocking, like electricity running up my spine. My arms buckled, and Ana had to hold me up as I shook.

But Stefan didn't wait. He grabbed my hips and began pumping. Hard. Deep. Every thrust slammed my prostate like a hammer, flooding my nerves with white-hot confusion pain, pressure, and something that shouldn't have felt good but did.

I whimpered into Ana's shoulder.

"Ohhh, poor kitty," she cooed. "You like it?"

"No," I panted.

"You do," she said, smiling. "You're leaking through your panties. I can see it."

And I was.

I looked down in horror to see my cock throbbing against the fabric wet, swollen, twitching with every brutal stroke inside me. My own body betraying me.

"Tell me," Ana said, stroking my hair as Stefan picked up speed. "Did you ever imagine something like this? Being fucked by a man? Being owned?"

"N-no" I groaned.

"But you're hard. And you just came in your mouth, remember? Begged me to let you swallow it."

Stefan's hips slammed into me, burying every inch.

I gasped.

"Are you straight?" she whispered.

"I I don't know"

"Exactly," she said, grinning. "It's all fluid, baby. Guys, girls... it doesn't matter. Your body knows what it likes. You're just learning to listen."

Then something shifted.

My hips started to rock back. Matching his thrusts. Seeking him out.

It was automatic. Instinctual.

I was moaning now, eyes shut, riding the edge of something terrifying and beautiful. Stefan's cock was stretching me wide, pounding my prostate with sickening precision, and my thighs trembled violently. I felt full, owned, fucked open.

Then

I came.

Without a hand.

Without a touch.

My cock exploded in the panties, soaking the thin fabric, strings of cum dripping down my thighs as I cried out into Ana's chest. My whole body jerked, twitching in his rhythm.

"Fucking hell," Stefan groaned. "He's loving it."

But Ana wasn't pleased.

Some of my cum had sprayed across her feet.

"Ewwww," she said loudly, stepping back. "Seriously?"

She slapped my cheek hard enough to snap my head sideways.

"You disgusting little thing," she hissed. "Clean it."

Tears still running down my cheeks, I crawled to her. Tongue out. Licked my own cum from her foot as Stefan continued fucking me from behind, his cock still stretching me open.

My mouth moved slow, trembling, dragging cum from her ankle.

"You're lucky I let you touch me," she muttered. "You're not man or woman anymore. You're just a thing we play with."

Then she left. Just like that. Vanished through the door with a dramatic sway of her robe, leaving me alone with the beast.

Stefan didn't miss a beat.

He grabbed my waist and flipped me over onto my back, never pulling out. My legs kicked as he repositioned, leaning over me on stiff, muscled arms.

He started to fuck.

Faster. Harder. Deeper.

His face inches from mine, sweat dripping onto my chest, eyes locked like he wanted to see the moment my mind snapped.

I couldn't look away.

My body shook under him. My back arched.

My hole felt raw and perfect, stretched wide around his cock.

I was blushing.

And he saw it.

"Little femboy slut," he growled.

I whimpered.

Then he came.

With a growl, his cock spasmed, pumping hot thick loads into my guts. I felt it every twitch, every pulse painting my insides. My breath hitched as he slowed his thrusts, pushing the last few spurts deep inside before pulling out with a slick, wet pop.

I moaned at the sudden emptiness.

And without thinking

My hand reached back.

Tried to guide him in again.

He caught it and laughed.

"You're mine now," he said.

He knelt beside me, cock glistening in the dim light, still soaked in both our juices.

I leaned up to tell him something but i was to out of breath.

Cum. Sweat. Lube. Shame.

I felt everything on my skin.

Then

Clap. Clap. Clap.

I froze.

Turned my eyes to the door.

Ana stood there.

Naked.

And wearing a giant, glistening black strap-on, dripping with lube.

She grinned. "Looks like you boys had fun," she said, stepping inside. "My turn."

I shook my head, but she walked over, towering above me now, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look up at her.

"You don't get to say no."

She knelt between my legs, dragging the thick head of the strap-on along my hole, pressing it slowly in. My body screamed, but my mind melted. I gasped, back arching again.

The pressure was blinding. I felt everything.

Ana leaned over me, whispering in my ear.

"I'm not just training your body," she said. "I'm breaking your mind."

She thrust.

I don't even know when I stopped fighting it.

Maybe it was the moment I tasted my own cum on her fingers. Maybe it was earlier when Stefan first held me down and took my ass like it belonged to him. But now? I wasn't pretending anymore. I wasn't performing.

I was broken open.

On all fours, ass stretched wide and used, my face still wet with spit and cum. I didn't even care anymore. I felt it, every inch of slick humiliation clinging to my skin like a second layer. My cheeks burned, not from shame, but from how right it all felt.

She walked around me, slow, calculated. That fake cock swayed between her thighs, coated in slick, lube, and something darker. My body ached. Used. Raw. But I pushed back on it, needed more.

It wasn't just a power game for her anymore. She looked at me like a painting she'd made wet, trembling, ruined and I knew she was proud. Every groan that slipped from my throat, every tremble in my limbs, every gasp and shudder it turned her on more than any toy ever had. I could see it in her eyes.

And me?

I was ready for her. I wanted to be used.

When she slammed her hips forward again, dragging me back by the leash, the stretch made my back arch and my lips part in a helpless cry. The strap-on was thick, blunt, unrelenting, but my body took it. Welcomed it. It hurt in the best possible way like I was being opened into something new.

"You're mine now," she whispered into my ear.