Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

After breakfast, we head back to the house and change into our beach clothes. The excitement of the first full day of vacation buzzes through the air as we all grab towels and sunscreen. I pull on my swim trunks and a light t-shirt, feeling a mix of anticipation and lingering grogginess from last night’s drinking.

We file out the back door and down the wooden steps leading directly to the beach. The moment my feet hit the sand, I’m struck by the raw beauty of the scene before us. The ocean stretches endlessly to the horizon, its surface a mesmerizing dance of blue and gray under the partly cloudy sky. Waves crash rhythmically against the shore, their roar a constant, soothing presence.

A gust of wind whips past us, carrying the briny scent of the sea. I shiver slightly, it’s only 65°F (18.3°C), and the breeze has a bit of a bite to it. Around me, the girls start shedding their outer layers, eager to soak up what the sun peeks through the clouds.

As jackets and shirts come off, I’m momentarily taken aback. All the women, from Erica to my sister Brooke, are now topless, wearing only their bathing suit bottoms.

As I look around, my eyes are drawn to Tessa’s incredible physique. Her lean, athletic body is on full display, toned muscles rippling beneath smooth skin. The graceful curve of her back leads down to a narrow waist, and I find myself transfixed by the elegant lines of her form.

My gaze drifts across the group, taking in details I’d never noticed before. Nikki’s broad shoulders and powerful arms speak to her years of football. Justine’s freckled skin seems to glow in the diffused sunlight. Even my sister Brooke’s figure catches my eye in a way that makes me deeply uncomfortable.

‘What the fuck is wrong with me.’

Panic rises in my chest as I realize I’m staring. My eyes dart frantically between the women, unsure where to look. I turn to Erica, fear evident on my face.

She looks back at me, confusion furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong?” she asks, concern in her voice.

I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “Why... why are all the girls topless?” I finally manage to stammer out.

Erica glances around at the group, then back at me. Her expression shifts from confusion to dawning realization. “Oh,” she says softly. “Is that not the norm in your old world?”

I shake my head vigorously. “No, definitely not,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

A gentle smile spreads across Erica’s face. “Well, it is here,” she explains patiently. “It’s perfectly normal to be topless at the beach. We want to be comfortable, after all.”

I nod slowly, trying to process this information. It’s one thing to know intellectually that gender norms are different here, but it’s another to be confronted with it so viscerally.

Erica reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” she says, tugging me gently towards the water. “Let’s go try the water. The chill might help clear your head.”

As Erica tugs me towards the water, I hesitate. “Hang on,” I say, my voice barely audible over the crashing waves. While she’s distracted, looking out at the ocean, I start to pull my shirt off over my head. The cool breeze hits my bare skin.

Suddenly, Brooke’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. “Jason! What are you doing?!” she shrieks, her eyes wide with horror.

Erica whips around, her expression morphing from confusion to fury in an instant. Before I can fully remove my shirt, her hand darts out, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength. She yanks my shirt back down forcefully, her fingers digging into my skin.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Erica barks, her voice low and dangerous. Her eyes, usually so warm and loving, now blaze with anger.

‘Wait, no. Please don’t be mad at me.’

I freeze, panic rising in my chest. “What?” I stammer, looking around at the shocked faces of our friends. “I... I don’t understand.”

Erica’s grip on my wrist tightens. “Why are you about to go topless yourself?” she demands, her voice trembling slightly.

I blink, utterly lost. “Are... are boys not allowed to be shirtless at the beach?” I ask, my voice small and uncertain.

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. Erica’s expression softens slightly, shifting from anger to concern. She releases my wrist. Her hand cups my cheek, her touch feather-light and soothing. She pulls me closer, her lips barely brushing against my ear as she speaks.

“Jason,” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin. “It’s taboo to see a boy’s upper body here. It’s considered incredibly intimate and private.”

I feel her body tense slightly as she continues, “Everyone here would be absolutely drooling if they saw you shirtless. The mere thought of it...” She trails off, her grip on me tightening possessively. “I get so jealous just imagining it.”

I pull back slightly, meeting Erica’s gaze. My brow furrows as I process this information, trying to reconcile it with my own experiences. “Not in my world,” I say, my voice barely audible over the sound of the surf. “It’s... it’s normal for guys to be shirtless at the beach where I’m from.”

Erica’s eyes widen slightly at this revelation.

I drop my gaze, shame washing over me. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, feeling the weight of my cultural faux pas. “I didn’t know. I should have asked first.”

Before I can say anything more, Erica pulls me into a tight embrace. Her arms wrap around me, enveloping me in her warmth. I can feel the softness of her bare skin against my clothed chest, a stark reminder of the differences between our worlds.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs into my hair, her voice filled with affection. “You didn’t know. We’re still learning about each other’s worlds, aren’t we?”

Just then, we notice Brooke running up to us, her feet kicking up sprays of sand. Her chest heaves with exertion, and I find myself desperately trying to keep my gaze fixed firmly on Erica’s face. The salty breeze whips Brooke’s long hair around her shoulders as she comes to a stop before us.

“Is everything okay?” Brooke asks, slightly out of breath. Her hazel eyes, so similar to my own, are wide with concern.

“Yeah,” I mumble, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks. The crash of waves seems to echo my discomfort, a rhythmic reminder of my social blunder.

Brooke’s brow furrows, her gaze flicking between Erica and me. “What were you thinking, trying to go topless like that in front of everyone?” she asks, her voice a mix of confusion and lingering shock.

Before I can formulate a response, Erica steps between us, her posture protective. “He just got a little confused, is all,” Erica explains, her tone casual but firm. Her hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers in a gesture of solidarity. “It’s not a big deal.”

Brooke’s eyes narrow, her gaze darting between Erica and me. A scowl forms on her face, deepening the furrow between her brows as she looks towards me.

“Is this something Erica put you up to?” Brooke demands, her voice rising above the crash of the waves. “Some kind of stunt to show you off to her friends?”

The accusation hangs in the air, as palpable as the salt spray. I open my mouth to respond, but Erica beats me to it.

“Are you kidding me?” Erica snaps, stepping forward. Her eyes flash with indignation, her posture rigid with barely contained anger. “I want everyone to see Jason topless even less than you do, Brooke.”

The vehemence in Erica’s voice is startling. Her fingers tighten around mine, almost painfully so. I can feel the tremor running through her body, a physical manifestation of her emotional state.

Brooke’s eyes widen slightly, taken aback by the intensity of Erica’s response. She studies Erica’s face intently, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, the tension slowly drains from her shoulders.

“I... I see,” Brooke says, her voice softer now. She lets out a long, weary sigh, running a hand through her wind-tousled hair. The anger seems to leave her body with that exhale, replaced by a mix of concern and resignation.

Brooke turns to me, her hazel eyes, so like my own, filled with a sisterly worry that transcends worlds. “Be more careful, Jason,” she says, her voice barely audible over the rhythmic crash of waves. “Women go crazy when they see that kind of... thing.”

The way she says “thing” makes it clear she’s referring to my bare chest, imbuing it with a significance I’m still struggling to comprehend. The idea that something so mundane in my world could be considered so provocative here is both fascinating and slightly terrifying, but since it’s hard not to look at the girls, I get it.

I nod slowly, not trusting myself to speak. I’m suddenly acutely aware of the fabric of my shirt against my skin, a thin barrier between me and a social taboo I never knew existed.

As Brooke walks away, her footsteps leaving shallow imprints in the damp sand, Erica’s eyes suddenly widen. Her gaze darts between me and the crowd of topless women lounging on the beach, realization dawning on her face like a storm cloud rolling in over the horizon.

“Wait a minute,” she says, her voice low and dangerous. The salty breeze whips her hair around her face, framing her scowling expression. “This must be like heaven for a boy like you.”

I can almost see the gears turning in her head as she puts the pieces together. In my world, women being topless at the beach would be fun for a guy. So here, surrounded by bare-chested women of all shapes and sizes, I’m essentially living out what would be a fantasy for many men back home.

‘I mean, other countries have topless beaches, so I guess it’s not that crazy.’

Erica’s scowl deepens, her eyes narrowing as she surveys the beach. Her jaw clenches, a muscle twitching visibly as she grinds her teeth.

“No fucking way,” she growls, her voice barely audible over the crash of the waves. “There’s no way we’re staying here.”

“That’s fair,” I say as I nod, understanding flooding through me.

Erica turns towards the house, tugging me along with her. The sand shifts beneath our feet, making each step a small struggle.

“Brooke!” Erica calls out, her voice carrying over the sound of the surf. Brooke turns, shielding her eyes against the sun as she looks back at us. “We’re heading back up to the house. Jason’s not feeling well.”

The lie rolls off Erica’s tongue smoothly, but I can hear the tension underlying her words.

Brooke’s brow furrows with concern. “Okay,” Brooke calls back. I’ll check on you soon, Jason. Make sure to stay hydrated!”

The genuine worry in her tone makes my chest tighten with guilt.

“It’s not necessary,” Erica says curtly, not bothering to look back as she continues to pull me towards the house. Her grip on my hand is firm, and beautifully possessive, as we trudge through the soft sand.

*****

[Brooke’s POV]

After an hour of playing around, I’m walking back up to my house, sand clinging to my damp skin. The beach water proved too chilly to be enjoyable despite our best efforts to brave the cold. My thoughts keep drifting back to Jason. I’m worried after Erica said he was sick, not to mention that bizarre shirtless incident earlier.

‘Why was he staring at my chest? So strange.’

As I approach the house, the salty breeze ruffles my hair. The wooden steps creak softly under my feet as I climb up to the deck. Sliding open the glass door, I step inside, relishing the warmth that envelops me.

“Jason?” I call out softly, not wanting to disturb him if he’s resting. No response.

I make my way down the hallway, my bare feet padding quietly on the hardwood floor. As I near Jason and Erica’s room, I notice the door is slightly ajar. A sliver of light spills out into the dim hallway.

Suddenly, I hear something. Muffled sounds coming from behind the door. Concern floods through me, is Jason okay? Is he in pain?

I approach cautiously, my heart racing. Reaching the door, I hesitate for a moment before peering through the narrow opening.

What I see makes my blood run cold.

Erica and Jason are in there, on the bed. Her breasts bounce with each thrust of her hips, emphasizing her control over this situation. The room is filled with a haze of sweat and sex, the air heavy with the smell of arousal that clings to their skin. Their bodies are slick with it.

Jason’s eyes are closed tightly shut, his face twisted in pleasure. He’s gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white while Erica straddles him, riding him hard and fast. Her hands clutched onto his shoulders for dear life. She pants loudly with each thrust, moans escaping her throat like angry growls. The music from outside is faintly audible but seems to disappear in here, drowned out by the sounds of their passion.

Jason’s labored breaths get louder, his back arching off the bed as he moans, “I’m... I’m...”

Erica’s grip on his shoulders tightens, her nails digging into his skin as she growls, “You’re what, my good boy?”

His face contorts with pleasure and humiliation, but he can’t help himself. “I’m... I’m about to...”

Erica slams her hips against his one last time as she looks up, her eyes meeting mine through the crack in the doorway. She winks at me with an arrogant smile, then leans in close to Jason’s ear, her voice dripping with dominance, “You can’t cum yet. Not until you call me... Mommy.”

Jason whimpers, his face flushed a deep crimson. “M-Mommy... please let me cum.” He pants, barely able to form the words.

Erica smirks victoriously, her arrogance practically seeping from her pores. “That’s a good boy.” She resumes her relentless pace, and I watch helplessly as Jason thrashes beneath her. His blissful agony is clear on his face as he tries to hold back the wave of ecstasy crashing over him.

“Mommy!” he cries out again, this time more desperate than before.

As Jason’s cries of ecstasy reach a climax, I feel my stomach lurch violently. The world spins around me as I stumble away from the door, my vision blurring with unshed tears. My feet carry me blindly down the hall, desperation lending speed to my steps.

I barely make it to the bathroom in time. Falling to my knees on the cold tile floor, I retch into the toilet, my body shaking with each heave. The taste of bile burns my throat as I empty the contents of my stomach, my mind reeling from what I’ve just witnessed.

Tears stream down my face, mingling with the sweat beading on my brow. I grip the porcelain bowl so tightly my knuckles turn white, anchoring myself as wave after wave of nausea washes over me. The sound of my retching echoes off the bathroom walls, a grotesque symphony accompanying my anguish.

As the heaving subsides, I slump against the wall, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. The cool tile against my bare back offers little comfort as I draw my knees to my chest, curling into myself as if I could physically hold the broken pieces of my heart together.

“Why?” I whisper to the empty bathroom, my voice cracking. “Why did it have to be like this?”

The image of Erica’s triumphant smirk as she rode my brother replays in my mind, taunting me. The way she looked directly at me, her eyes gleaming with victory, knowing full well what she was doing to me.

My fingers curl into fists, nails digging crescents into my palms as rage begins to simmer beneath my grief. “Just a few more days,” I mutter through clenched teeth. “Just a few more days, and she’ll be gone.”

But even as I say the words, a darker thought surfaces from the depths of my despair. ‘If Erica doesn’t leave... if Tessa fails to stop her and she continues to corrupt and degrade my sweet little brother... Jason’

“I swear to god,” I hiss, my voice low and dangerous, “I might kill her myself for doing that to Jason.”

‘If I were his partner, I would make love to him gently. I’d never make him beg for anything.’ The Flame inside me ignites as I think about what Jason deserves.