Forced to be my sisters lover in a reverse world-Chapter 23: why am I like this

My phone dinged — a soft, unexpected chime that cut through the stillness of the room.
I frowned. Nobody ever emailed me. Not teachers, not friends... no one. For a second, I just stared at the glowing notification on my screen, the tiny envelope icon sitting there like it was daring me to open it.
The night air crept in through the half-open window, brushing over my bare arms and raising goosebumps.
I tugged my blanket up to my chin, the fabric cool at first, then warm as it trapped my breath and body heat. The gentle rustle of the trees outside mixed with the distant hum of traffic, that soft, constant lull that always came after midnight.
My room was dim — only the pale light of the phone and the moon spilling faintly through the blinds.
I turned onto my side, watching my reflection flicker faintly in the black glass of the window. Somewhere out there, the city was still alive — but in here, it was quiet, like the world had pressed pause.
"I wonder what Noah's doing..." I whispered, my voice barely more than breath. The thought came uninvited, slipping into my chest and refusing to leave. Maybe he was asleep already, maybe not. Either way, I missed him more than I cared to admit.
The notification blinked again, almost impatiently. I sighed, hesitated for a moment longer, then clicked open the notification.
The screen lit up brighter, washing my face in pale blue light as the email loaded. My heartbeat picked up for no reason — maybe instinct, maybe unease. The subject line made my stomach twist.
"Thought you should see this ;)"
No sender name. No signature. Just that one smug line and a small video attachment sitting below it. My thumb hovered over it, my breath caught halfway between a gasp and a curse. Every part of me screamed not to open it, but curiosity... or maybe dread... pushed harder.
I tapped the file.
The loading bar crawled forward, agonizingly slow, while my reflection stared back at me from the glassy surface of the screen. The air in the room suddenly felt heavier — thicker — like even the shadows were holding their breath with me.
And then, the video began to play.
"I found out about all the dumb shit you were spreading around," Elara said, her voice low and razor-sharp, every word deliberate and venom-laced. "So do yourself a favor—make peace with whatever demons you've got... because pretty soon, you won't be here."
The screen flickered, the recording cutting abruptly to a different video.
The lighting shifted to a dim, amber glow spilling from a bedside lamp. The camera was angled toward a bed—its sheets slightly messy, the shadows swallowing most of the room. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, the quiet creak of a door broke through the silence.
Elara appeared first, her hair tousled and her expression hungry. Noah followed close behind, his breathing already heavy.
They stumbled inside, the door clicking shut behind them, and before I could process what I was seeing, Elara had pulled him into her arms. Their mouths met in a deep, feverish kiss—sloppy, desperate, filled with pent-up emotion. The soft thuds of their movements and the faint, wet sounds of their lips echoed faintly from the phone's speakers, each second making my stomach twist tighter.
She shoved him onto the bed with a forceful push, her lips still locked on his in a rough, bruising kiss. This moment was a haunting echo of that night, every sensation dragging me back to a memory I couldn't shake.
"You want mommy to fuck you hard, don't you, Noah?" Her voice dripped with raw dominance, crackling through the screen with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
I scrubbed forward on the video, desperate to convince myself this was some sick prank, that it had to be fake—some twisted AI-generated clip meant to mess with me.
But no, every frame was too real, too visceral. I stopped at a point I never should have lingered on. The sight of Noah, completely surrendered, getting fucked with a ruthless rhythm, hit me like a punch to the gut.
It was worse than anything I'd seen before, every thrust and gasp amplified in excruciating detail. The room seemed to close in as I watched, unable to tear my eyes away from the sheer intensity of it—the way his body arched, the sweat glistening on his skin, the raw, primal sounds filling the air.
Then Elara froze mid-thrust, her relentless rhythm on his cock coming to a jarring halt.
She delivered two sharp slaps to his hip, the second one so forceful it echoed through the room, making even myself flinch. But Noah, oh, he writhed beneath her, a twisted grin of pleasure spreading across his face, his body arching for more. Her voice snapped like a whip, commanding and cold, barking an order I couldn't quite make out over the pounding in my ears.
Then he spoke, his voice raw and shattered, each word cutting deeper than I could have imagined, a desperate plea I wished I could erase from my mind.
"I'm Elara's. I'm all Elara's! Sara could never do this. Sara could never fuck me like this. I'm yours, Mommy... please, I'm begging you, fuck me... please, don't stop."
The words stabbed through me, a betrayal so vivid it felt like my chest was splitting open.
Without a second thought, I hurled my phone at the wall. It hit with a sickening crack, the impact leaving a jagged dent in the plaster as the device shattered into jagged pieces, the screen flickering once before dying completely.
I didn't care. The destruction was nothing compared to the agony clawing at my insides, a pain so raw it burned.
"Sara? Is everything alright up there?" My mom's voice floated up from downstairs, surprisingly steady for once, not laced with the usual tears she shed over Dad.
"Leave me alone!" I screamed back, my voice cracking under the weight of my anguish. I buried my face into my pillow, the fabric already damp from earlier tears, and let the sobs rack through me, each one harder than the last, choking on the bitter taste of heartbreak.
But the heat between my legs was even more unbearable, a vicious mix of pain and raw, gnawing pleasure that clawed at my core. I didn't want this—fuck, I didn't—but my body betrayed me.
Without thinking, my hand slipped down, sliding beneath the waistband of my underwear, fingers brushing against the slick, throbbing heat of my cunt. I told myself it was just a distraction, a way to dull the ache, but every touch only sharpened the image of Noah getting absolutely wrecked.
I couldn't tear my eyes away. My fingers moved faster, dipping inside, wet and desperate, as I remembered him take it, his grunts and gasps echoing in my head. My other hand gripped the sheet, nails digging into the fabric, as my breath hitched. Seeing Noah like that, broken and fucked, it did something to me—something dark and twisted that I couldn't shove down.
"Fuck, I'm gonna—oh god, I'm gonna cum..." I gasped aloud, my voice trembling as I tugged hard on my nipple, the sharp sting pushing me over the edge.
My body clenched, a wave of heat crashing through me, soaking my underwear and drenching the blanket beneath me in a sticky mess.
I sunk onto my bed, panting, my fingers still trembling as the shame crept in. I just came remembering Noah getting ravaged like that. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I... am I into this? Am I a fucking cuck?