Chapter 9

You slip back upstairs, the thumping bass from the party below masking your footsteps as you approach Tyler's room. The door remains slightly ajar, offering anyone who passes by a perfect vantage point. The scene inside has progressed considerably since you left.

Bella kneels on the floor between Tyler's legs, her navy dress bunched around her waist, her bare breasts exposed to the cool air of the room. Her nipples stand erect, pink and taut against her pale skin. Tyler's hand is tangled in her brown hair, guiding her head as she awkwardly attempts to take his erection into her mouth.

"Not like that," Tyler instructs, his voice husky with desire. "Use your tongue more. Swirl it around the tip." He demonstrates the motion with his free hand. "And watch the teeth, babe. You're scraping."

Bella pulls back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his shaft. "Sorry," she giggles, a sound entirely foreign to Isabella's usual serious demeanor. "I told you I've never done this before." Her lipstick is smeared across her chin, her eyes glassy from alcohol and arousal. "Am I doing it right now?" She licks a long, slow stripe up the underside of his shaft, maintaining eye contact in a way Isabella would find mortifying.

"That's better," Tyler groans, his hips bucking involuntarily. "For a math genius, you're a quick learner at sucking cock."

Bella preens at the crude compliment, her hands gripping his thighs as she attempts to take him deeper. The wet sounds of her inexpert ministrations fill the room, punctuated by her occasional gag when she tries to accommodate too much.

Growing impatient, Tyler suddenly pulls her up by the shoulders. "Enough of that. I want to fuck you now." He pushes her back onto the bed, her body bouncing slightly on the mattress as he positions himself between her spread legs.

For a brief moment, clarity flashes across Bella's face—a glimpse of Isabella breaking through the alcohol and hypnotic suggestion. "Wait," she whispers, her voice momentarily losing its breathy quality. "I'm... I've never..."

"You're a virgin?" Tyler asks, his erection pressing insistently against her panties. Far from deterring him, this revelation seems to excite him further. "Don't worry, baby. I'll make it good for you."

Bella's moment of hesitation dissolves as Tyler's fingers slip beneath the elastic of her underwear, finding her wet and ready. Her head falls back against the pillows, her inhibitions drowned by alcohol and arousal. "Oh god," she moans, her hips rising to meet his touch. "Just... be gentle?"

Tyler's only response is a predatory smile as he hooks his fingers into her panties and begins to pull them down her trembling thighs.

Tyler's fingers hook around Bella's panties, sliding them down her trembling thighs with practiced ease. The navy blue fabric catches briefly on her ankles before he tosses them carelessly to the floor. Bella lies exposed on the bed, her pale skin flushed with desire and alcohol, her brown hair splayed across the pillow in disarray.

"You're so fucking hot," Tyler murmurs, positioning himself between her spread legs. "Can't believe you've been hiding this body under those baggy sweaters all this time." His fingers trace the curve of her hip, sliding up to cup one small, firm breast. The nipple pebbles beneath his touch, eliciting a soft gasp from Bella's painted lips.

"Will it hurt?" she whispers, a momentary flash of Isabella's uncertainty breaking through the bimbo persona. Her eyes, normally sharp with analytical intelligence, now clouded with lust and confusion.

Tyler's response is to press the head of his erection against her entrance, watching her face as he applies gentle pressure. "Just relax, baby. I'll make it good for you." His voice holds none of the tenderness his words promise, his eyes calculating as he begins to push forward.

Bella's body tenses at the unfamiliar intrusion, her fingers clutching at the bedsheets. "Oh god," she moans, her back arching slightly off the mattress. The scent of her arousal mingles with Tyler's cologne and the faint smell of alcohol on both their breaths. "It feels... weird."

"It gets better," Tyler promises, pushing deeper. A grimace of discomfort crosses Bella's face, quickly replaced by determination as she forces herself to relax around him. The wet sound of their joining fills the room as Tyler establishes a rhythm, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place.

Downstairs, the sounds of the party continue unabated, the bass thumping through the floorboards as Isabella takes a cock for the first time. With each thrust, Bella's expressions cycle between pain, confusion, and moments of unexpected pleasure. Her hands, once clutching the sheets, now move to Tyler's shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she adjusts to the sensation.

"That's it," Tyler encourages, his pace increasing. "Take it all. You're doing so good, Bella." The name rolls off his tongue naturally now, cementing the persona's hold as Isabella recedes further into the background.

Bella's moans grow louder, less performative and more genuine as her body discovers new sensations. "Oh fuck," she gasps, a phrase Isabella would never use. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

You leave Tyler's room quietly, making your way down the hall to where you last saw Gia heading with Jackson. The door is partially open, and the sounds emanating from within leave little doubt about what's happening inside. You position yourself for an optimal view, elbowing a couple of frat boys enjoying the show.

Gia straddles Jackson's muscular form on a rumpled bed, her tanned body glistening with sweat in the dim light. Her voluptuous breasts bounce rhythmically as she rides him, head thrown back in ecstasy, long black hair cascading down her bare back. The volleyball player's athletic body moves with surprising expertise, hips rolling in a primal rhythm.

"Fuck, you're so good at this," Jackson groans, his large hands gripping her waist. "You must have been secretly a slut all along, huh? All that innocent act was bullshit."

Confusion flickers across Gia's flushed face, momentarily disrupting her rhythm. "What? No, I would never..." she begins, before pleasure overtakes her again. "Oh god, this feels amazing! I don't know why I waited so long!"

Jackson laughs, a cruel edge to his voice. "Yeah, right. No way this is your first time." He suddenly grips her hips harder, thrusting upward forcefully and making her cry out. "Volleyball star Giorgia Valentini, campus's secret cockslut."

"Don't call me that," Gia snaps, though she doesn't stop moving. "It's Gia, not Giorgia." She leans forward, pressing her breasts against his chest, her movements becoming more frantic. "I'm gonna cum, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

Jackson's expression turns predatory. "That's it, ride that cock. Show me what a good little slut you are." His hands move to her ass, squeezing roughly as he drives deeper into her.

Gia's entire body tenses, her back arching as she reaches her climax with a keening wail that surely carries beyond the room's thin walls. The scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the faint traces of her perfume and the unmistakable musk of male arousal.

You slip away from the fraternity house, satisfied with the night's developments. Both sisters have crossed significant thresholds, their original personalities now deeply compromised by their bimbo alter-egos. The seeds you've planted are taking root beautifully.