SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Chapter 616: Round Two

But they didn’t just read, either. Between stories, they talked.

They gossiped about her sisters—Charlotte doing a devastating impression of Astrid’s “older sister” voice that made Mika laugh until his sides hurt.

They reminisced about silly moments from their childhood—the time Charlotte had tried to bake a cake for Mika’s birthday and had somehow set the kitchen on fire.

Or the time Mika had fallen asleep in the library and Charlotte had drawn a mustache on his face with marker.

“Do you remember when I tried to make you wear matching outfits for the family photo?” Charlotte asked, giggling.

“I remember you throwing a tantrum when I refused.”

“I did not throw a tantrum! I expressed my disappointment in a very mature and dignified manner.”

“You lay on the floor and screamed.”

“…It was a very dignified scream.”

—

They then explored the library together—or rather, Charlotte explored while Mika directed from his chair.

She discovered the old record player in the corner worked, though the selection of vinyl discs was, in Charlotte’s expert opinion, “Absolutely atrocious!”

“Who even listens to this?” She demanded, holding up a sleeve featuring a man holding a cello. “This isn’t music. This is what depression sounds like.”

“Maybe there’s something better in the back.”

There wasn’t. Every single disc was either classical, opera, or what Charlotte described as “music for people who’ve given up on joy.”

“This psychopath has no taste at all. That’s why…” She declared. “I’m going to be a DJ now and fix it!”

She pressed one hand to her ear like she was wearing headphones and began scratching at the record with her other hand, making exaggerated movements and ridiculous sound effects.

“Wicka-wicka-wicka! Yeah! This is DJ Charlotte coming at you live from the world’s most depressing library!”

Mika couldn’t stop laughing. “Please stop! You’re going to ruin the record!”

“Too late! The record is already ruined! Everything is ruined! Wicka-wicka!”

“Charlotte!”

She abandoned the record player and moved on to her next idea. Grabbing two burning logs from the fireplace, she began twirling them through the air, leaving trails of sparks and embers in her wake.

“Behold!” She announced. “The ancient fire dance of my people!”

“Charlotte, put those down before you hurt yourself!”

“Nonsense! I am a master fire dancer! I have trained for—whoops!”

One of the logs slipped from her grip and clattered to the floor. She quickly stomped out the sparks.

“I meant to do that. It’s part of the dance.”

“Of course it is.”

—

She returned the logs to the fireplace and immediately moved on to her next project.

Building a fort.

She dragged chairs from all corners of the library, stacked books as walls, draped a tablecloth she’d found in a drawer over the top to make a roof.

“Behold!” She announced again. “Fort Charlotte! The mightiest fortress in all the land! No one allowed!” She paused. “Except you. You’re invited.”

“I’m honored.”

Charlotte then found a deck of cards in one of the drawers and tried to teach him a game, though she kept changing the rules whenever she started losing.

Then there was the tickling. Charlotte had discovered that Mika was ticklish.

This revelation led to a prolonged assault that left Mika gasping for breath and begging for mercy.

“Char—Charlotte—stop—I can’t—”

“Say I’m the prettiest princess in the world!”

“You’re—you’re the prettiest—now STOP!”

“Say I’m the smartest person you know!”

“You’re not even—HAHA—OKAY, OKAY, YOU’RE THE SMARTEST!”

“I can’t move! This isn’t fair!”

“All’s fair in tickle warfare!” Charlotte declared, her fingers dancing across his ribs. “Surrender now and I might show mercy!”

“Never!”

The tickling continued until Mika was breathless with laughter, tears streaming down his face—but these were different tears than before.

These were tears of joy and the simple, precious gift of being alive and together.

—

Hours passed like this. Charlotte poured every ounce of her energy into entertaining Mika, into distracting him from the horror of their situation, into making him smile.

And it worked. The darkness receded. The pain faded.

For a little while, they forgot where they were. They were just two children enjoying each other’s company, finding light in the midst of darkness.

But then the door opened.

Both of them froze. Their laughter died in their throats.

And when they turned, they saw Marcus standing in the doorway, that same sadistic smile plastered across his face.

“Well, well, well.” He stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping over the book fort, the scattered records, the remnants of their joy. “It seems like you two have been having fun without me.”

He walked toward Mika.

“And especially you, boy.” He leaned down, examining Mika’s face with intense curiosity. “That smile on your lips—it’s so bright. So genuine. Who would have thought that the same child I was torturing just yesterday could still smile like this?”

He straightened up, shaking his head in wonder.

“Usually, my victims can’t show any emotion after I’m done with them. They’re broken. Shattered. Empty shells of who they used to be. But you…”

His eyes gleamed. “You’re different. You’re special. And that just proves how much fun we’re going to have today.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sharp scalpel.

“Today, I’m going to particularly enjoy ruining that handsome face of yours.”

“No!” Charlotte threw herself between them. “Stop it! I told you to stop hurting him!”

But Marcus walked through her like she wasn’t there. He wasn’t even looking at her anymore. His entire focus was on Mika, his new favorite toy.

“Mika.” Charlotte whispered, her voice trembling. “What are we going to do?”

Mika looked at her. And despite the terror that she knew must be coursing through him, his eyes were steady.

“It’s alright, Charlotte. Like I told you yesterday, no matter what happens, I will never break. I promise you, we will get out of here.”

He paused, then added with a sheepish expression.

“I was going to ask you to look away and cover your ears, but…”

“But there’s no way I’m doing that!” Charlotte finished. “So don’t even ask.”

“I figured.” Mika’s lips quirked into a sad smile. “Then promise me something.”

“Promise me that no matter what you see, no matter how much I scream or how badly I’m hurt, you won’t break either. Your mind is strong, Charlotte. Stronger than you know.

“But watching something like this…it can damage you in ways you don’t expect. So promise me you’ll hold on and won’t let him destroy you too.”

Charlotte grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“I promise, Mika. I promise I’ll stay strong. No matter what. So please—”

Her voice cracked. “Please don’t hold back. If you need to scream, scream. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to call my name, I’ll be right here. I’ll never leave your side. I promise!”

Mika looked at the resolve in her eyes and the strength that hadn’t been there before.

She was changing, he realised. The spoiled, princess who had never faced a real challenge in her life was shedding her cocoon.

She was becoming stronger. Fiercer.

And even though it was his own suffering that was catalyzing this transformation, Mika couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride.

If there was one good thing to come from this hell, it was that.

“Alright.” Mika said, turning his gaze toward Marcus as he sneered with unwavering spirit.

“Come on, you bastard! Show me what you’ve got!”

Marcus’s eyes crinkled with delight.

“With pleasure.”

—

And so the days of torment began in earnest.

True to his word, Marcus focused on Mika’s face that first day. He didn’t touch his body at all—left it perfectly intact, a cruel mockery of mercy.

He started with the eyes.

Marcus approached with a small, curved instrument—a spoon, of all things, but sharpened to a razor’s edge along its rim.

He hummed a cheerful tune as he positioned himself beside Mika’s head.

“The eyes are the windows to the soul.” He said conversationally. “Let’s see what happens when we open those windows a little wider.”

Charlotte watched in horror as Marcus inserted the spoon beneath Mika’s eyelid and, with a quick, motion, scooped the eye from its socket.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Mika screamed.

The sound was inhuman, a primal shriek that seemed to tear itself from the very depths of his being. His body convulsed against the restraints. His remaining eye bulged with terror and agony.

“There we are!” Marcus held up the eye, still connected by the optic nerve, dangling it in front of Mika’s face. “Look at that! You can still see out of it, can’t you? You’re seeing yourself right now, from outside your own body. How fascinating!”

He let the eye drop back against Mika’s cheek, where it hung like a gruesome pendant, before turning his attention to the other one.

“Let’s make it a matching set, shall we?”

The second eye came out more easily than the first.

Now both orbs dangled against Mika’s cheeks, and he could see himself from two impossible angles while simultaneously staring at the ceiling through empty, bleeding sockets.

“MIKA!” Charlotte screamed, her hands pressed to her mouth.

But Marcus wasn’t finished. He set down the spoon and picked up a pair of long, thin forceps.

“Now, the tongue. You’ve been using it to say such brave things. Such defiant things. Let’s see how brave you are without it.”

He pried open Mika’s jaw and reached inside with the forceps. There was a horrible wet sound, a strangled gurgle from Mika, and then—

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!”

“Look at that!” Marcus held up the tongue triumphantly. “So long. So pink. It’s almost cute, in a disgusting sort of way.”

He tossed it aside like garbage.

The eyes went next—fully severed this time, dropped into a jar of clear liquid that Marcus had prepared specifically for this purpose.

The ears followed, sliced off with a curved blade that made a sound like tearing silk as it passed through cartilage.

The nose came away with a crack of breaking bone.

The lips were peeled back and removed layer by layer, each strip of flesh adding to the growing pile of discarded parts.

Piece by piece, Marcus dismantled Mika’s face.

He even used a drill on Mika’s teeth, grinding them to powder one by one. He then peeled the skin from Mika’s face in thin, delicate strips.

Finally, he cracked open the skull itself, exposing the brain beneath, and poked at it with curious fingers.

And through it all, Mika screamed.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

He screamed until his throat was raw.

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!”

He screamed until his voice gave out completely, leaving nothing but silent, convulsive gasps.

“HAAAH!!! HAAAAAH!!!! HAAH!!!!”

His body shook with the force of his agony, the restraints cutting into his wrists and ankles as he thrashed against them.

And through it all, Charlotte stayed by his side.

She vomited more times than she could count. The brutality was so far beyond anything she had ever witnessed that her body physically rejected it.

But she never looked away. She held Mika’s hand through every procedure, whispering words of comfort, reminding him that she was there, that he wasn’t alone.

And when it was over with Marcus’s plastic suit drenched in blood, his eyes were bright with satisfaction.

“There.” Marcus said, admiring his handiwork. “That was fun. But I think we can do better. Don’t you?”

He snapped his fingers.

Mika’s face reformed. Whole. Unblemished. Ready to be destroyed again.

“Round two.” Marcus announced.

And the cycle began anew.

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