Chapter 1.2

Logan knelt behind her and pressed a kiss to her temple. He chuckled lowly when she shyly averted her gaze.  

“I’ll make you feel even more later. Grateful?”  

“Yes… Thank you.”  

Logan stroked her hair gently, then helped her up. He sat on the chair and pulled her onto his lap, guiding her legs back over the armrests. His gaze lingered on her glistening lower body, and he smirked. When he traced her entrance with his fingers, a slick fl*id coated them.  

“See this, Yvonne? You’re dripping…”  

“Ah, no… I didn’t…”  

Flustered, she stammered. Did I w*t myself? Impossible. She hadn’t felt a thing.  

But as Logan’s fingers teased her entrance, stretching it slightly, a rush of warm fl*id spilled out. Yvonne grimaced and shook her head.  

“It’s dirty, Logan… So dirty…”  

“This isn’t pee. Here.”  

He brought his fingers close to her face. There was no smell – nothing like urine. But it had come from there…  

His slick fingers grazed her lips. The silent command was clear: Lick. Despite her disgust, Yvonne couldn’t refuse. Reluctantly, she took his fingers into her mouth.  

Just like the lack of smell, there was almost no taste. She’d never tasted urine, but this was definitely different. Besides, Logan had said it wasn’t.  

It felt like she was forcing herself to rationalize it. But it didn’t matter.  

She sucked obediently until he pulled his fingers free. Logan sighed as he returned them to her entrance.  

“You’re good at this, Yvonne. Makes me want to shove something else in that mouth.”  

“What…?”  

At her confusion, Logan pressed his lower body against hers. Between his legs, something thick and rod-like nudged her b*ttocks. Instinctively, her stomach clenched. As he slowly pushed a finger inside her, he chuckled.  

“That’s my c*ck. Your p*ssy already wants it, huh?”  

“Umm… So…”  

Eat it? How?  

Her mind spun, further overwhelmed by the sight before her. Yvonne held her breath as she watched his finger disappear inside her.  

“This is where you take a man. Pee comes from here.”  

He slid his middle finger into her while his thumb tapped her urethra. Though his palm now blocked the view, Yvonne nodded absently – her focus entirely on where his finger was moving.  

Logan took his time, carefully working his middle finger deeper. Only when it was fully inside did she finally exhale. But the foreign sensation kept her on edge. Worse, he began moving his thumb too, collecting her slickness to press firmly against her swollen cl*toris. Her hips jerked violently.  

“Ah, it hurts!”  

“No, Yvonne. Think harder.”  

She sniffled, biting her lip.  

“It’s like when I touched your n*pples. Just too intense.”  

“Eek…”  

Logan wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. As he kept rubbing her cl*t, her hips squirmed helplessly.  

“Nnh, ah…!”  

It felt ticklish, painful – and above all, terrifying. She tried to pull away, but Logan held her fast. Or maybe her body just wouldn’t obey. Twisting weakly, she could only cling to his arm. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to beg him to stop. Tears welled up.  

“Ugh, ah–I… If you keep doing that, hng, I’ll–I’ll make a mistake…”  

“What? Hahaha!”  

Logan burst out laughing but didn’t stop. Yvonne’s tears spilled over, her moans mingling with his laughter.  

Only when his laughter faded did he gently soothe her, pressing tender kisses to her moist eyelids.

“You won’t pee. Well… maybe sometimes. But it doesn’t matter. You’re fine.”  

“Sob…! That’s–ahh, n-no…!”  

In response, he pressed harder, circling her cl*toris with relentless pressure. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, her moans rising with each movement. Then, suddenly, heat surged through her lower body–  

“Ah, hah, ah–ahhhn!”  

–followed by convulsions. Unstoppable tremors wracked her, culminating in a pl*asure she’d never felt before.  

Her first org*sm flooded her senses, overwhelming. Sight and sound faded; only pl*asure remained.  

As she cried out, her nails dug into Logan’s arm – too short to leave marks. But he groaned in agony, his breath hot against her ear. Her oversensitive body shuddered at the contact. He ground his erect*on against her a$s.  

“F*ck… You’re testing my patience…”  

“Hic, uh, ngah…”  

“You did well, Yvonne.”  

Holding her close, he kissed her cheek. Yvonne sobbed into his chest.  

This was the second strange dream she’d had.  

“Young Lady, wake up.”  

Already time to rise? Yvonne rubbed her eyes. She remembered collapsing into sleep, but it didn’t feel like she’d truly rested. Her body ached, her eyelids swollen.  

Another strange dream. Had talking to Logan before bed caused it? She tried to cool her flushed skin just from the memory as she sat up–  

“…?”  

Or tried to. Something was wrong beneath her nightgown. Alarmed, she ducked back under the covers.  

Twisting slightly, she felt it – a slick w*tness from her v*lva to her thighs. Not urine, surely. Hesitantly, she reached between her legs. The folds inside were drenched, sticky with a fl*id she couldn’t name. She examined the translucent droplets on her fingertips: slightly viscous, odorless.  

Her hand ventured again. A small bump – the cl*toris Logan had shown her in the dream. And lower…  

Her fingers brushed an unthinkable place. When she pressed, her fingertip slid inside effortlessly. Yvonne jerked her hand away, horrified.  

How? What kind of dream was that?!

“Young Lady… are you unwell?”  

“Huh? Uh…”  

“You slept through the morning. Shall I ask them to bring a light meal here?”  

“Yes, that’d be best…”  

Yvonne replied dazedly. The moment Nora hurried out with a worried glance, she bolted upright. The bathwater from this morning might still be there. Cold, but it would have to do.  

Before Nora returned, Yvonne scrubbed herself with the chilled water and stuffed her nightgown into the tub, pretending it was an accident.  

* * *

After that, Yvonne didn’t dream of Logan for a while. At first, she thought it was a relief. How could she have such obsc*ne dreams about her stepbrother – the only family m*mber who showed her kindness? It was shameful, and worse, it filled her with guilt.

But perhaps those days had been better after all.

‘Haaah…’

In the deepest, darkest corner of Schmidt Manor, a faint sigh escaped from under the covers of Yvonne’s bed.  

‘Nn…’

She muffled her moans by burying herself deeper under the blankets, her hands roaming her own body.  

Sliding her fingers beneath her nightgown, she kneaded her soft br*asts until her n*pples stiffened. Unlike before, she pinched them hard enough to border on pain – exactly as Logan had done in her dream.  

‘Ah…!’

A whimper slipped out. Was it the intensity of her touch, or the memory of Logan’s hands? Squeezing her eyes shut, she recalled the dream with startling clarity. Days had passed, yet it felt more vivid than ever. No – it was growing sharper, as if she were under a spell.  

In the dream, he’d touched her with deliberate slowness, savoring her skin like a connoisseur. But his caresses had turned relentless, possessive, without her realizing.  

The image of his large hand gripping her br*ast flashed behind her eyelids. How her pale flesh spilled between his fingers. How her skin flushed red wherever his rough, calloused palms dragged over her.  

Logan’s favorite part had been her s*x. He’d marveled at the whiteness of her p*bic hair, teasing her until she squirmed. The itch had been unbearable, but beneath it lurked something darker – an anticipation her body betrayed far more openly than her face ever could.  

‘Look in the mirror, Yvonne.’

‘Mmm…’

The woman in the mirror sat astride Logan’s lap, legs splayed wide. He tapped near her entrance, as if giving a signal – and her body obeyed, gushing w*tness. Her face burned.  

‘Your c*nt keeps twitching.’  

‘……’

‘You’re such a sl*t, Yvonne. Desperate to be filled–’ 

‘N-No… I’m not… Hah…!’

Logan had never said those words. But her fingers dipped lower anyway, finding her folds already slick. When she brushed her entrance, it was drenched.

Sniffling, she smeared the w*tness upward to her cl*t. The swollen bud pulsed under her touch. Propping her knees up, she lay back and circled it with trembling fingers, alternating between pressure and featherlight strokes.  

‘Hic… Nn…!’

The pl*asure was sharper than anything she’d ever felt – except in Logan’s dreams. Yet she couldn’t quite tip over the edge. She rubbed until the skin stung, until her hips jerked off the bed. 

Logan never took this long. In her mind, he’d flicked and pressed just so, building the tension until–  

‘Ah! Aahn…!’

Her stomach clenched. White light exploded behind her eyes. Something inside her seized, shaking her apart. Her back arched violently.  

‘Hah… Ugh…’  

When the spasms faded, shame crashed over her. She wiped the sweat and slick from her body with a nearby cloth before collapsing onto the mattress. 

Burying her face in the pillow, she wondered if she’d been possessed. How had she become this depraved? How could she face Logan now?  

As night deepened, her pillow grew damp – not just with sweat, but with silent tears.

* * *

The truth was, Yvonne hadn’t completely stopped having strange dreams after that. She still had secret dreams she couldn’t tell anyone about – she just no longer saw Logan in them.  

If you asked whether she saw someone else in those dreams, the answer was no. In her dreams, she was alone.  

In the third dream, Yvonne was m*sturbating in bed. Her senses – sight, touch, and everything else – were vivid, so much so that it was easy to mistake it for reality.  

Only when she saw the faint glow of candlelight in her bedroom did she realize she was dreaming. She never slept with candles lit at night.  

“Mmm…”  

Her nightgown was completely undone. Each flicker of the candlelight made her sweat-slicked body tremble. Unlike in reality, Yvonne wasn’t under any covers. One hand teased her br*asts, the other tormented her cl*toris.  

“Ah… Haaah…”  

She didn’t bother stifling her moans. There was no fear of being overheard – this was her own dream, after all. It was as if someone whispered to her: You can be as loud as you want. So Yvonne let herself whimper freely, without restraint.  

Then, she felt eyes on her from beyond the thin lace canopy of her bed. A man’s scorching gaze traced her n*ked body.  

– Spread your legs. 

“Nngh…”  

– Wider. Let me see what you’re feeling. 

“Y-yes… Ah, ah…!”  

– Turn your face this way, Yvonne. Show me that lewd expression of yours.

“Hah… Nngh! I–I’m gonna… c*m… Haaah!”  

– Good girl, Yvonne.

His voice dripped with ar*usal. Yvonne tried to peer through the lace, but she saw nothing. Then, her vision flickered.  

“Ah–ah, ahhh!”  

– You did so well. 

After reaching her cl*max, Yvonne collapsed, too weak to even lift her eyelids. Even in a dream, exhaustion washed over her. Then, her consciousness faded.  

In the fourth dream, she was at her desk. In the fifth, by the window. In the sixth, she leaned against a wall, touching herself – only to realize, after coming, that her legs had given out and she was now sitting on the floor.  

By this point, she’d started m*sturbating even after waking up, blurring the line between dream and reality.  

But this time, it was unmistakably a dream.  

“H-here…?”  

– Look at the window, Yvonne. It’s the middle of the night. Who’d come to the dining room? 

That voice inexplicably calmed her. As Yvonne loosened the ties of her robe, the fabric pooled at her feet, revealing her bare skin.  

She obeyed the unseen man, perching demurely on the dining table. His hands gripped her knees, spreading them apart. His impatience was palpable. When his rough touch made her gasp, he ignored her reaction, fingers already working between her thighs.  

– You’re so w*t… Did you touch yourself again? 

“Hic…”  

Shame brought tears to her eyes. As Yvonne nodded, blushing, the man chuckled darkly.  

– Look how soaked you are. Your thighs are drenched. You must’ve been dripping all the way here.

When her tears spilled, the man leaned in. His hot breath grazed her ear.  

– The whole hallway must reek of you. The males will catch your scent and come rutting after you.

“N-no…! That’s scary… I don’t want that…!”  

She thrashed, tears finally falling. The man licked them away.  

Between her half-lidded eyes, the once-indistinct figure of the man came into focus – just barely. He smiled, satisfied. To Yvonne, he looked like a well-fed predator.  

– You’ll learn to love it one day. Even when you’re pinned down, every hole filled…

His fingers brushed her lips, her c*nt, her a$s. A foreboding shiver ran down her spine.  

– …I’ll make you beg for more. By then, you won’t be scared at all, Yvonne.  

Not now… but then. Yvonne exhaled in relief and nodded.  

The man kissed her cheek softly before pulling away. Though his form vanished again, the weight of his gaze remained, burning between her legs.  

– Now, shall you entertain me again today?

“Yes…”  

With practiced motions, Yvonne began to pl*asure herself.  

The man in her dreams grew bolder. He commanded her in broad daylight – in the library, in empty carriages, even in secluded gardens.  

Yet Yvonne couldn’t refuse him. Even in her own dreams, she was utterly under his control. The only mercy was that no one else ever appeared – until now.  

Tonight’s dream placed her on Logan’s bed, right beside her sleeping stepbrother.  

If she moaned too loudly, she might wake him. Her jaw trembled.  

“N-no… Not here…”  

– Why not? You loved it when I played with you there. 

“I didn’t…! It was only because you made me–!”  

– Really? 

“Eep!”  

The man’s hand slid between her thighs from behind. By the time she tried to clamp them shut, it was too late. He rubbed her slick folds, whispering:  

– You were waiting for this. Be honest, Yvonne – your body already is.  

“……!”  

She wanted to deny it, but no sound came out. She couldn’t even struggle. Yet her whimpers escaped freely as the man violated her.  

The w*t sound of his fingers at her entrance made her bite her lip and tense her thighs. If she wasn’t careful, she’d collapse onto Logan.  

– Why aren’t you putting your fingers inside?

“I’m… scared.”  

She’d tried once, out of curiosity, but hadn’t liked it – the way her inner walls clenched with each pulse of pl*asure unsettled her.  

– But you liked it when Logan fingered you.  

“I don’t remember that…!”  

This time, she managed to shake her head. But it only seemed to provoke him. He pulled away with a low laugh.  

– Should I jog your memory?  

“W-what…?”  

– Put Logan’s fingers inside you. His right middle finger – you’ve taken it before. 

No, that’s impossible–!  

Before she could refuse, her hand was already reaching for Logan. Yvonne guided his large fingers to her entrance, her face pale with horror.  

“Nn… Don’t… want…!”  

Her own hands betrayed her, pushing Logan’s thick finger inside. She felt every knuckle stretch her.  

“How… could this…?”  

– See? You’re enjoying it. Ah… Yvonne, you’re squeezing so tight…  

When the man embraced her from behind, she lost balance and fell against him. Clutching Logan’s hand, she leaned into the man’s chest, surrounded by a familiar scent. His hot breath scalded her ear.  

His body was firm with muscle. Do all men feel like this? She wondered if he might be as built as Logan. Who is he? Could he be…?  

“L-Logan…?”  

The man pressed his lips to her ear. His chuckle was eerily familiar.  

– What’s Logan doing right now?  

She looked down. Logan was fast asleep, oblivious to his stepsister using his fingers for such wicked play.  

I’m sorry, Logan. I’m sorry. Her eyes reddened.  

“H-he’s… asleep…”  

– With his finger buried inside you? Just lying there?  

“Yes…”  

– He looks so innocent to you, doesn’t he?  

“Ah!”  

The man pinched her cl*t, rolling it between his fingers. Tears spilled from Yvonne’s eyes.  

Here she was, forcing her stepbrother’s fingers into herself while a stranger molested her. The man nibbled her neck and ears, groping her freely. Miraculously, Logan didn’t wake – not even when she came over and over in the stranger’s grasp.  

That was the most recent dream.  

And it seemed her dreams were bleeding into reality. Yvonne’s body grew more sensitive, her climaxes arriving faster each time.