Lucy and Lynn were lounging in their shared bedroom. It was evening, and the blackened sky could be seen towering over their thin windows. A breeze rolled in, making the room feel cold, but not as cold as the distance between the rooming sisters. Lucy felt awkward. She was sitting on top of her bed and stared warily at her sister. She seemed to be toying with some of her sports equipment. She was not very familiar with them, but it looked like a large, straight hockey stick. Lynn played so many sports that Lucy could not keep track of them all. She watched as Lynn, with the large stick in one hand and some kind of green ball in the other, was idly bouncing the ball up and down across the wood of the stick. It depressed Lucy. It depressed her on top of how depressed she already was. She was working up the courage to say something to her sister, but the words would not come to her. It had been months now since the incident at the beach. Moths since she got her grounded and made her miss her important game. The sport she couldn't remember, but she could still feel how sorry she had felt. Lynn had taken her sentence in stride, and was once again free to pursue whatever sport she wanted now that the sentence had passed. Still, she had a feeling that there was some lingering resentment towards her. Something had changed. Lynn was not exactly mean to her, but she did act differently. Often, it was in the things she did not say. In the way that she was curt with her whenever she talked to her. Lucy harbored no illusions. It was not as if the two sisters had shared long engaged conversations between them before the incident. No boy talk, no confiding. And yet, this had felt different. Cold, rather than just misunderstood.

There was silence in the room, save for the rhythmic bouncing of a ball on wood. Bounce, bounce, bounce. Like the trickling of a water clock. The bounces of the ball reverberated even louder in Lucy's head than they did through the room. It was slowly driving her mad. It drove her mad mostly because she did not fully comprehend what was going on with her sister. She couldn't read her mind. Much less did open up and say much from which she could piece together how exactly she was feeling. What was she still angry about? Was it what happened on the beach, or was there something else on her mind? She wished she could reconcile with her sister, but mediating and reconciling had never been her strong suit. She had always preferred to avoid her siblings and spend time alone. The reconciliation was more up to Lincoln, or Luan, or even Lori, if things got out of hand. But never Lucy.

Lucy sat up on the edge of her bed, facing her sister. She stared at her for a long while before she worked up the courage to speak – and before she had found the word she wanted to speak. Her voice trembled when she finally spoke.

"Hey Lynn, don't you have a game tonight?"

"Nah," Lynn replied. She was curt and sounded disinterested, as had become common over the past few weeks. "Tuesday evening used to be my rugby evening, but they kicked me off the team after I did not show up to the most important game of the whole season. Damn." Lynn threw the ball against the wall, and it bounced wildly across the dresser, to another wall, and finally into a heap of Lynn's unsorted laundry, making its final bounce.

Her words hurt. The words did not sound accusatory, but Lucy could not help but feel sorry for it nonetheless. If only she was stronger.

"Sorry I got you grounded, Lynn."

"Don't remind me. Ugh! Stupid mom. At least the team still won the season, despite my absence. I guess maybe it was not that important to the team after all. I am happy for them, though." Lynn put her sports stick aside, and crossed her arms as though in defiance. In actuality, however, she was sad. "I've let my team down."

"You didn't let anyone down. It was my fault. Me and my—" Lucy trailed off. She wasn't sure how to word it yet, even to herself. She stared meekly, her head tilted. She felt sorry for her sister. Still, Lucy could not help but see opportunity. Dinner time approached, and if Lynn is not only dejected but also hangry, maybe she'd play extra rough with her. The thought of it made her shiver pleasantly, and her face felt warm. Something had come over her from a mere thought. A fantasy, lasting no more than a second. Lucy smiled awkwardly, trying at some semblance of restraint. There was none to be found. She dropped to her knees next to her bed, and crawled over to her sister. She rose, and kneeled on the floor beside Lynn's bed, he head rising above Lynn's sheets like a red sun in the East. She skews her head invitingly and simpers.

"Why don't you take your frustrations out on me?"

Lynn turned her head to her, one eyebrow raised in incredulity. Her eyes darted across her hot face before turning away again.

"And get grounded again? No thanks, Luce."

Lynn turned to stare at the wall to the left of her. Lucy could not see her expression. It seemed to Lucy that her sister needed a bit more convincing. Thankfully, Lynn is easily provoked. Lucy got up off of her knees and climbed onto the bed. She sat on top of her moping sister, and Lynn made no move to stop her, she just stared. Lucy bent slightly to lean over her, indignantly. It was something Lucy knew would annoy her - Lynn never liked being the one to be leaned over. Lucy tried desperately to hide her insecurity, but on the inside she was second-guessing herself. Lynn had already been cold and distant to her, and provoking her further could make it worse. But her wishful thinking got the upper hand. This was exactly what Lynn needed right now, she lied to herself.

"You won't get grounded. Not as long as you bruise me in places mom won't see." As she spoke, almost pleadingly, Lucy slowly slid her dress off of one of her shoulders. It wasn't a conscious move either: her body had moved for her.

Lynn watched. Lucy paused - she had expected some sort of reaction. Instead she just sat there with her arms folded, staring. Coldly. She started to feel very fragile all of a sudden, and she froze in place as a Siren's statue.

Lynn blinked at her. "Go on," she eventually said, impatiently. It meant Lynn was interested. That fact rushed all Lucy's blood to her head, and it supercharged her thoughts of doubt. She suddenly radiated with shyness, which she hated, but couldn't help. Lucy remained paused. To Lynn, she just seemed to play coy - and that made her all the more impatient.

With a decisive movement, Lynn pulled Lucy's dress further down, exposing one of her small breasts. With her thumb and index finger, she plucks at a sensitive bit of skin just above Lucy's small nipple. "Should I bruise you here?"

Lucy's body convulsed as if to nod, eagerly. Her eyes rolled up into her skull, and her back arched to the sensation of her sister's hands, but she made herself unmoveable. "Come on," Lucy insisted, "you can do better than that." She sounded surer than she was.

Lynn smiled. She reached out and put her hand on her forehead. She pushed her bangs aside, exposing her eyes. Lucy froze on the spot, feeling truly naked. She could only stare at her sister's eyes. She could see herself reflected back in those dark, deep pools of vengeance, framed by splayed eyelids. She could feel a warmth emanating from them. She could sense that she was being drawn into them. She was hypnotised by them. She could feel the heat of their bodies coming right through her clothes. Lynn tugged Lucy's dress off further, exposing the other teat. She played with one nipple, while pinching the other. Lucy did not know how to busy her hands amongst the pleasure. She fell on them as she convulsed forward in weakness, then nervously fidgeted with her sister's pillow cover. She felt uncomfortable, vulnerable, and exposed. She wanted to run away, but she knew running was futile. There was nowhere to escape to. She was trapped in this room with her. She was powerless.

She was happy.

Lynn took control. She removed her hand from her sister's chest and grabbed her shoulders. Lucy gasped. Her sister pulled her closer, but Lucy's impatience rose. She did not care for cautious foreplay. She wanted more. She wanted Lucy to hurt her everywhere, anywhere. As Lucy felt like she couldn't take anymore teasing, she demanded "hurt me already!"

Lynn obeyed, unhurriedly. Grabbing Lucy by both wrists, she flipped Lucy over and away from her, forcing her to lay on her stomach. Lucy didn't struggle. She knew how much her sister loved this position — as did she. She also knew that the reason Lynn loved it so much was because she could torment her in new ways.

As Lucy lay prone, she found herself staring off in the distance — peering over the rugged valleys of Lynn's ruffled duvet cover, the softened fabric brushing against her cheekbones and half-denying her to breathe and see. Her body involuntary contracted with each stroke of pain Lynn inflicted on her. Lynn, meanwhile, seemed to be enjoying herself. She was releasing her pent up anger, and there was a lot of it. The last time they had played this game, Lucy had been too embarrassed to admit she enjoyed being hurt. This time around, Lynn had decided to push her boundaries.

As Lucy squirmed beneath her sister, Lynn jabbed her nails in her sides — hard. Lynn's aim was precise. She had always been the best at hitting the exact spots that tormented Lucy most. She never missed. They were both taking their time purposefully — trying to provoke a reaction from the other. Neither were sure what that reaction would be. Was Lucy capable of handling everything that Lynn was willing to do to her? Or would it break her? The question excited both.

Lucy's nerves heigtened her senses. As she continued to be pained by sister, she felt a certain thrill. She felt alive. The world became more vivid and colourful. She could feel every muscle flexing in her arms and legs. She could hear Lynn's breaths become heavier, and the sound of blood rushing in her ears. It was becoming an overwhelming assault on her senses. An overstimulation. She was no longer sure whether it pleased her.

"You're mine."

"I'm yours," Lucy whispered, and it came out more angry than anything else. She could tell that Lynn was still holding back, trying to see just how much she could take. She winced, and clenched her eyes shut.

"Don't close your eyes," Lynn instructed, "they belong open. You've never seen me like this. I need you to watch me. I want you to see me. I want you to see how much joy you give me."

But for whatever reason, Lucy was finding it difficult to concentrate on the game, or on her sister's words. She wanted to look away, but Lynn refused to let go of her hands. Then Lynn hit her. She dug fingernails into her shoulder blades, and drew blood. It sent waves of pain and pleasure through her small body. Lynn was relentless. Her strong fingers found her most sensitive points. She poked and prodded, teased and tortured, until Lucy thought she might literally die. She cried out, unable to contain her ecstasy, and her voice cracked with pain. It kept going. She tried to hold back her tears, but she couldn't control herself anymore. She was feeling weak, and unsure of herself. It was the one feeling she hated most. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, and feel her blood sluicing with each beat. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. She felt like she was about to throw up. She felt like she was going to pass out.

She finally let out a pained cry, and moaned. "Stop, Lynn, stop."

"Stop ain't no safe word I ever heard of." She took things up a notch instead. She twisted Lucy's arms behind her back, and grabbed one of Lucy's legs. She raised it up high, and held it still. It was clearly a move she had learned at wrestling practise. Lucy gasped, and her body tensed. Her body was already being contorted to its extremes, and Lucy felt ashamed. She had been determined to stop being seen as the weak, frail little sister. She needed this, she convinced herself. If she could just push beyond her boundaries, it would make her stronger. This was what she wanted.

Lynn started to dig her nails into her fleshy thighs. She bit Lucy's thigh. Lucy cried out again, but this time, she didn't beg Lynn to stop.

She begged her to continue.

A few seconds later, Lucy's body gave way to the pleasure that was being inflicted on it. If her screams weren't muffled by Lynn's blanket, they would've reached the entire Loud House, and half the neighbourhood. She writhed, bucking her hips, and twisting her torso. Lynn continued to bite her, and stab her - leaving scratches and trails of blood in Lucy's skin. The pain quickly numbed, but the release and ecstasy seemed eternal.

Lynn stopped biting her, and instead she began to spank her. She only slapped Lucy's ass lightly, but the quick stings on her freshly cut skin was enough to cause Lucy to lose control again.

The orgasms hit Lucy like a truck. She screamed, and moaned incoherently. Every bit of her body shook uncontrollably. Her head and shoulders fell limply to the duvet, and she arched her spine. She clawed at the air, as she thrust her pelvis upwards, begging for more. Lynn took advantage of her sister's moment of weakness, and threw Lucy onto her back. Lynn straddled her, and put her lips to Lucy's ear. "You're such a good girl," Lynn whispered. "I love you."

The words pierced her harder than her nails could. Lynn kissed her, and sucked on her neck. Lucy returned the gesture by kissing Lynn's face passionately, until she finally broke away and said "that's enough."

Lucy didn't look at Lynn. She had turned her head away defiantly, but also out of fear. Lynn still held her and towered over her with an unsatisfied bloodlust.

Lynn paused, but did not cease. She reached down and grabbed Lucy's hair. She pulled her head back, and bit her earlobe. In the rush, she bit hard enough to bruise.

"Ah! Lynn, you idiot," Lucy protested, "Mom will see that!"

Lynn ignored her, continuing to bite her ear. Lucy struggled under her, but Lynn maintained her hold. She released one of Lucy's wrists, and grasped her hand instead. She began to squeeze hard.

"What did you just call me?"

Lynn was in control. She was punishing Lucy, and she was not done yet. She was going to make Lucy pay for her insolence.

Lucy began to panic. "Lynn, please." Lucy was pleading, but there was still a hint of defiance in her voice. She did not want to betray her fear. She knew that Lynn was dominant, and that she had always enjoyed hurting her. However, Lucy still had hope that Lynn would not take it this far. This could get them in trouble. Serious trouble. Not just mom would see, but everyone would. Whatever the pleasure, it wasn't worth getting ostracized over. She felt lonely enough as is.

Lynn was not about to yield. She took Lucy's head in her hand, and twisted her to expose her neck. Lynn's teeth scraped across Lucy's throat. She nipped at her.

"Lynn, please, ah, anywhere but there..."

Lynn finally released her grip on Lucy's head, and smacked her across the face. Then again the other way. Lynn did not wait for Lucy to react. She grabbed her by the hair again, and threw her off the bed. She flipped onto her stomach, and her face slammed into the rough carpet.

Lucy rolled back onto her knees, and pushed herself up with a groan. Her nose was bleeding profusely, and she had numerous scratches on her arms. Lucy tried to wipe away the blood with her free hand, but it just spread further. A red stream ran uninterrupted from her nostril to her chin. Lucy licked her lips, and her blood left a metallic taste in her mouth. If she looked like a tomato before, she looked like ketchup now.

She should have told her to snap out of it. She should have been more clear that she was hurting her. She should have never started it in the first place. She had wanted to make her stop. Or more accurately, she wanted to want to make her stop. But she couldn't bring herself to. The pain, Lynn's untamed fury, the taste of half-coagulated blood in her mouth – this is exactly what she had wanted: to lose control. In her fleeting joy, she forgot about her mother, about her family, about how it was almost dinner time. She forgot about repercussions. She even, almost, forgot about Lincoln. Almost, but through the blood on her tongue, in her memory, she could still taste him.

—

There came a moment that even Lynn, despite her athleticism, was exhausted. Lucy heard her dawn back to Earth with heavy breaths. Her pale skin, once a blank canvas, had become an aquarelle of bruises, blood, sweat and tears. As had their clothes, and the carpet, and the bed.

"Oh fuck, Luce... What did you make me do?"

Lucy sensed the dread in her tone, and felt Lynn's eyes burn on her skin. She crawled over the carpet and sat up. She touched her upper lip, and her hand came back with blood.

"Is it bad?" Lucy did her best to sound matter-of-factly, as to not start panicking herself.

Lynn placed her hand on Lucy's face, and forced her to look towards her. Lucy averted her eyes behind her bangs, but she saw Lynn inspecting her.

"Yeah." Lynn's voice betrayed no emotion.

Lynn stared at her a while, until she moved in closer. Lynn, with a sudden tenderness Lucy had never expected from her, kissed her nose in a painful spot. Despite the tenderness, the kiss stung where the carpet had scratched her skin. Lucy fiercely brushed her away, and held her at arm's length.

"You have to fix this," Lucy demanded, her eyes still averted. "Right now, before dinner is ready."

Lynn nodded, and walked over to their vanity table, where she collected Lucy's palettes and brushes. Lucy watched her with a mixture of emotions – relief that Lynn was going to clean her up, shame that she had let Lynn hurt her, worry that her mother would see, love that Lynn was paying attention to her. She was still nearly naked, and she hadn't handled the maximum of Lynn's torment as well as she would have liked. If it had even been the maximum. Nonetheless, she had handled it. Her cheeks still burned hot from where Lynn had smacked her. She definitely did not see her as too weak to get rough with anymore. That thought was comforting, at least. With every pulsating ray of heat on her reddened cheek, Lucy felt herself getting stronger. The pain had become her sword, her nakedness her armour. The feeling of knightly strength was inebriating — but not enough.

When Lynn returned, she sat on her knees behind Lucy and started bristling away on her sister's broken skin. The pale foundation stung where it came into contact with cuts in the nape of her neck.

"I'm sorry."

"You are not sorry. Either way, it's fine, you don't have to be." Lucy kept her head low. She looked at Lynn's shadow, which danced across her face as she scrubbed at her skin.

The two sat in hurried silence. Lynn quietly covered up her tracks of tough love with the rough, calloused hands of a lumberjack. It was exactly the type of rough handling that Lucy enjoyed best. And so, enjoy it she did. In silence.

Until Lynn spoke. "Is this how you got Lincoln grounded too?"

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing, nothing." Lynn smiled. "But I can guess."

Lucy shrugged. "Ask him yourself."

"I'm asking you. You can't start keeping secrets from me now. I'll find out sooner or later."

"It's not a secret."

"So tell me."

Lucy traced an invisible line across her lips.

"Fess up Luce, why did Lincoln get grounded?"

"Nothing. It was a misunderstanding."

"Huh. There's a lot of people having misunderstandings around you, aren't there?"

It was true. It stung Lucy to think that she was getting her siblings in trouble for her own selfish indulgences. She doesn't even understand why she does it, so is it really worth it to trouble them? All she knows is that since she started exploring these forceful losses of control, she feels, for the very first time, truly loved. Or more precisely, truly worthy of love. But her conscience weighed on her. There should be no more misunderstandings. She would swallow her need to appear mysterious. If she wanted to be loved, she had to be crystal clear. Have her words betray her as much as her skin.

"Lincoln – he was pleasuring himself in Vanzilla. Mom opened the door with unfortunate timing. The shock caused him to aim towards me. And then... it hit me. Here." Lucy prestidigitated a meaningful line across her face.

Lynn was silent, staring at her analytically — then burst out laughing. "That's hilarious!" She stopped laughing, and moved closer to Lucy. So close that Lucy could feel Lynn's breath on her ear shell. "I bet you liked it, didn't you?" Lynn started whispering poison into Lucy's ear as if she were a succubus, fingering the invisible line Lucy had traced. The top of her ring finger forced Lucy's lower lip to open. "You're into all that taboo and black voodoo stuff, and getting your ass handed to you... There's an even darker side to you, isn't there, Luce?"

Lucy said nothing. She tried to divert her face, but Lynn diverted it back.

"Say it."

Lucy stammered. "I — I do have fantasies... I... Lincoln..."

"O-ho! What? You don't even deny it!? That is fucked up, Luce!" Lynn smirks with indignance and amusement — and just a hint of arousal. "But, you've been a very good girl for not lying to me. So, as your reward—" Lynn put aside the make-up, bent down and spoke softly. "—you can pretend that I'm Lincoln."

Lynn has misunderstood the point of her fantasies, but Lucy wasn't complaining.

Lynn quickly stopped, however.

"Actually, I know something even better."