Twins in College
 Ch. 01
by WFEATHER ©

Chapter 01: On Our Own

Only Siamese twins could be closer. 

My big brother and I may not actually be Siamese twins, only fraternal 
twins, but, to borrow a cliché, we are effectively "joined at the hip." 
Society may frown intensely upon the profound love we have for each other, 
the profound love which has only intensified since shortly before our high 
school graduation, but – even though we try not to express our true 
emotions in public – we do in fact love each other deeply and plan to 
spend the rest of our lives together. 

At least we have been able to essentially "buy" four years' worth of time 
together, thanks to college admissions specialists. 

Our parents began encouraging us both as early as eighth grade to think 
about where we would like to go for college. Admittedly, our parents had a 
lot of money – part of it came from our mother's share of an office pool's 
lottery win, part of it came from a multi-million dollar class action 
settlement our father had smartly orchestrated. While they never truly 
spent a lot of money, my big brother and I both knew that we could attend 
any college or university in the States – and perhaps in the world – and 
not need to worry about paying for our post-secondary education. 

By the beginning of our junior year of high school, my big brother and I 
had narrowed our choices to fifteen schools each. Interestingly, as we 
compared our lists, we shared eleven schools in common, with the top five 
identical on each list. It is often said that twins tend to share a 
special bond, able to "know" about the other at seemingly all times even 
when separated by great distances; something similar had apparently taken 
place in our minds as we individually chose where we would like to learn 
more about the world around us, the world which decreed that he and I are 
never to have the type of relationship we had nonetheless developed. 

It was a few days before Christmas Eve of our senior year of high school 
when my brother received some very welcome news: Just as I had done, he 
had applied Early Decision to all of his top ten choices for higher 
education, and one of them had accepted him. I was genuinely overjoyed for 
him, certainly evidenced by my overly-enthusiastic hug... although he 
definitely did not complain. 

My Early Decision acceptance never came, however. My grades had never been 
quite as good as his, so I was not particularly surprised that an Early 
Decision acceptance was not granted to me, but at least my applications 
were rolled over into the general application population. Plus, I soon 
realized that my twin brother and I could very likely be separated – 
perhaps even on opposite coasts of the United States – for the first time 
in our young lives. Those two elements combined to cast a gloominess over 
Christmas Break for me. 

At least I knew that my big brother would be attending a school in the San 
Francisco area. Together, we began to research the area: the attractions, 
methods of transportation, the airports in the area, annual festivals and 
major events, apartment prices, restaurants... For me, it was great to 
know what I might be able to do when I went to visit him there, but I 
still felt both sad and mildly depressed at not knowing whether I would be 
able to share in those experiences with him on a regular basis. 

Months passed. Then, in a span of three days, I was accepted by twelve of 
my top fifteen chosen schools. Once those acceptance letters had all 
arrived, I sat at the center of my bed, each letter spread out before me, 
and began to rank them all to help in deciding my future. An hour later, 
my choice finally made, I walked into my big brother's bedroom, and gave 
him a big grin. He knew. 

We would not be attending the same school, unfortunately, as the college 
which had accepted him rejected me, but we would at least be in the same 
geographic area. 

Toward the end of the school year, my big brother's girlfriend dumped him. 
Not three days later, my boyfriend dumped me. Only then did we realize 
that throughout our dating "careers" were we each looking for someone just 
like our twin, and even before my tears had dried, the foreplay had began. 
Not three days into the eighteenth year of my existence on this planet, I 
became my big brother's woman, and our love grew exponentially. 

Perhaps because they knew that we had always been incredibly close (likely 
a natural extension of having spent nine months together in the same tiny 
space), our parents actually agreed with my big brother's idea that 
perhaps we should get an apartment together in the Bay Area. During the 
summer, we made several trips to California, searching for a nice 
apartment in a good neighborhood, a place where my big brother and I would 
not be constantly in each other's way, a place close enough to major 
public transportation lines that we could survive somewhat-easily without 
a car. 

By mid-July, we had found such a place in Berkeley, just two blocks from 
the nearest BART station and with several bus lines also located within 
easy walking distance. It was a two-bedroom apartment in a complex with 
twenty total units, ten units on each floor. We would be on the upper 
floor, living above the laundry room and some of the storage cages. Since 
it was a second-floor apartment, we would also have a small balcony, 
really just deep enough to sit in a chair and still have relatively good 
legroom. The bedrooms were indeed small – smaller than our bedrooms at 
home – but sufficient for two college students. Gas, water, and basic 
cable were included in the rent; tenants were responsible for any other 
utilities or amenities they wished to have. 

In one of his few "heavy spending" moments I have ever known, however, as 
my big brother and I were about to sign the lease, my father pulled out 
his checkbook and made one lump sum payment. "I want them to focus on 
their studies for their first year of college," he said as an explanation. 
"After that, they are essentially on their own, and should have found jobs 
to allow them to pay rent on their own." The landlord smiled and nodded, 
as if our father was not the first concerned parent to have taken this 
unusual step. 

Before we returned to the hotel, we located an independent mailing store a 
few blocks away, and our father did the same thing: He paid for one year's 
rental for a mailbox my big brother and I would share. Since our landlord 
did not live on the premises and my big brother and I would likely be away 
in classes (or, eventually, at work) most of the time, this would allow 
for us to have packages delivered even though they would not fit into our 
tiny mailbox at our apartment building. 

One month passed before we would finally move into our apartment. 

It was a long, long day. We landed at Oakland International Airport about 
8:45AM. By this time, we were nearly experts at using the AirBART and BART 
systems, and were in our Berkeley apartment seemingly minutes later. While 
our mother and I hung the curtains and unpacked the general things 
required for a new household, my big brother went with our father to go 
buy some basic groceries to get us started in life on our own. Then it was 
time to confirm the deliveries for that afternoon; we were sitting on the 
floor eating store-bought deli-style sandwiches when the first of the 
deliveries arrived, which ironically included the table and four chairs. 

By dinnertime, all the scheduled deliveries had been made – the sofa, two 
futons and bedding, two desks with chairs, the table and its chairs, 
several bookcases, a few lamps, and plenty more. It was a Saturday 
evening, and we all knew that the restaurants would likely be crowded, so 
we instead went back to the grocery store, bought more deli-style 
sandwiches, and ate those on the way to the nearby BART station. We were 
quite early for our parents' late flight back home, but we all said our 
goodbyes nonetheless. I actually had a tear in my eye as our parents 
passed through the security checkpoint, then turned to wave to us one 
final time before rounding the corner and disappearing from view. 

By the time the AirBART arrived, my big brother had me laughing again as 
he often does. My spirits were flying high once more. We were on our own 
at last; the world was our oyster. And as the AirBART pulled away from 
Terminal 2 with no one sitting near us, my big brother took my hand in his 
and offered me a warm smile. 

Only then did I truly realize that our life as a couple deeply in love 
could truly begin. We were effectively alone in a strange city where no 
one knew us, so we could be (a little) more free with our growing 
relationship. And that realization warmed me from the inside as I patted 
his thigh with my free hand, looking up into the eyes which were so eerily 
like mine as I returned his smile. 

The rest of the trip to our new "home" was effectively a blur in my mind. 
I just barely remembered transferring from the AirBART to the main BART. I 
remembered only tiny snippets of our quiet conversation. Then, suddenly, 
we were on the sidewalk approaching the back side of our building, looking 
up at the balcony of our apartment. 

We entered the building and, strictly out of curiosity, I checked the 
mailbox. There actually was something awaiting us: an envelope clearly 
containing a greeting card of some kind, from our parents. As my big 
brother watched, I opened the envelope and showed him the cover, an 
artist's rendition of a pair of astronauts standing beside a spacecraft on 
a sparsely-vegetated planet as they regarded the star-studded sky in the 
background. Then I opened the card and read aloud: 

"The universe is yours to explore. May you learn about life and about 
yourselves through your college careers and beyond." Both our parents had 
signed it, although our mother had clearly been the one to address the 
envelope and write the message inside. 

"I certainly hope to learn a lot more about you during my college career 
and beyond," my big brother quipped with a gleam in his eye. "Ditto," I 
replied softly with a smile and a wink. Then we mounted the stairs, ready 
to enter our "home" for the first time alone. 

"Wait." He unlocked and opened the door, put the key back in his pocket, 
and then surprised me by picking me up. At least for a few seconds, I was 
the wife and he was the husband; for just a moment, we were young 
newlyweds, upholding the tradition of crossing the threshold of the home 
together. 

Then my stomach rumbled, breaking the illusion of wedded bliss but at 
least causing us both to laugh a bit, even as I blushed slightly from the 
embarrassment of the poorly-timed sound. I was set down upon the sofa, and 
I watched my big brother close and lock the door and turn on a nearby 
lamp, then move to the phone atop the bookcase. "Pizza?" he asked, even 
though he knew I would heartily agree. 

Our home was still in disarray; it was quite evident that we had just 
moved in, and there would be even more for us to put away on Monday once 
we had an opportunity to go back to the independent mailing store to pick 
up the many boxes which had been shipped ahead of our arrival. But neither 
of us cared at that moment. All that mattered was that we were together, 
alone. Despite hearing a car horn in the distance, the outside world no 
longer existed. Our relationship was no longer a taboo. We were no longer 
twin brother and sister. 

We were simply a consenting, loving couple. 

After my big brother had ordered the pizza, we kissed for the first time 
in well over forty-eight hours. I practically melted into him, and readily 
admitted him entrance when his tongue knocked at my teeth. I clutched him 
tightly as his strong arms enveloped me. I felt needed, protected, loved, 
cherished, in a way that none of my high school boyfriends had ever made 
me feel, and I knew that this relationship was real, that we were indeed 
destined to be together no matter what others might say. 

At some point, I moved from a sitting position to a horizontal position, 
my head upon a nicely-upholstered armrest. I only realized my position had 
changed when the door buzzer sounded, startling both of us from our 
intimacy. As I lay on the sofa gasping loudly for breath, my big brother – 
my lover – reluctantly lifted himself from me, squeezing my heaving 
breasts one more time, and went to the speaker. The pizza had arrived 
sooner than expected, even when accounting for my losing track of time. 

Dinner was a little unusual. At home, the dining room table was in the 
dining room itself, and the television was in the living room and could 
not be seen by anyone sitting in the dining room. Without a separate 
dining room in our apartment, the table and the television were just 
several feet away from each other. We ate in silence, using the remote to 
flip through the scant number of basic cable channels, finding nothing of 
particular interest to either of us. On Monday, we would definitely need 
to go buy a DVD player; then we could at least enjoy the anime and movies 
we had obtained over the past few years; Monday would also be the day we 
would be able to enjoy our PlayStation2 again. 

But for now, it was Saturday night. More importantly, it was our first 
night alone... the first of many, many nights alone. No more would we be 
forced to sneak a brief hug or a quick kiss. No longer would we need to 
send instant messages to cryptically reveal our heartfelt desires. Never 
again would we be expected to sleep solo and silently suffer in solitude. 

Eventually, we had eaten our fill, and with the television off, our meager 
conversation had passed from our mouths to our eyes. We were definitely 
tired, having awoken well before dawn in an earlier time zone that day, 
yet I for one felt more alive than I had since our special camping trip 
during the summer. 

"What are you thinking, baby sister?" he finally asked, placing his hand 
upon mine. 

I looked into his eyes once again. It was just like looking into a mirror: 
I saw my own eyes as well as the bright flame of love being reflected back 
at me. My heart beat a little faster, a little louder, and, for just a 
moment, I could have sworn that my chest expanded subtly to accommodate my 
heart's increased rhythm and sound. 

"I was thinking about how our last camping trip ended," I admitted, 
honestly and without any shame. "I was remembering how wonderful you made 
me feel that morning, teasing me from one climax to another." 

He smiled again, squeezing my hand, his eyes flickering as he remembered. 
"I still don't know how I lasted as long as I did that morning," he 
acknowledged. "You were definitely quite the tease!!!" 

In my mind's eye, I relived that entire morning in the space of a few 
scant seconds. "That was indeed a very special morning," I finally said 
softly, looking down at our hands, our fingers intertwined. 

"You are indeed a very special woman," he whispered, lifting my hand to 
his lips for a gentle kiss. 

A long silence passed as we simply gazed upon each other, our eyes 
communicating what mere words fail to express, even for the most 
experienced of professional authors. The Big One could have severely 
disfigured the Bay Area just then, but I strongly doubt that either of us 
would have noticed. 

In time, I stood. He pushed back his chair to stand as well, but I 
motioned for him to remain where he was. After quickly putting the 
remainder of the pizza in the refrigerator, I turned off the lamp, 
plunging our apartment in near-complete darkness. Only the 
curtain-diffused light from a nearby street lamp allowed me to make my way 
back to my lover without inadvertently bumping into anything along the 
way. 

I sat straddling his thighs and pressed my body against him, my arms 
wrapped around his broad shoulders. We simply held each other in the dark, 
contentedly enjoying each other's presence and warmth and love. I could 
almost sense a sphere of loving energy gradually forming around us, 
surrounding the table, enlarging to fill the room, expanding to engulf the 
entire apartment. As the sphere grew, it seemed as if the temperature in 
the room rose – subtly, yet significantly. If we had been making love at 
that very moment, I would certainly have understood the sensation, but we 
were instead simply holding each other. 

As the sphere grew, so did a certain portion of male anatomy trapped 
between us. I smiled to myself, placing a soft kiss upon the side of my 
lover's neck as I gently pressed myself against his lengthening manhood. 
As his erection grew more solid, my knickers grew more moistened, and we 
both held each other just a little tighter. 

His lips sought mine, and I offered them to him without question. Despite 
the fatigue of the long, historic day, I needed this, needed him. I opened 
my mouth wide, and his tongue suddenly probed so deep into my mouth that I 
very nearly panicked, resulting in a loud squeal of surprise as I clutched 
at the back of his head. 

He was relentless. His lips affixed themselves to my mouth like a leech, 
sucking the breath from my lungs as our tongues fenced like two bitter 
rivals. His hands began to roam my body, feeling me, groping me, 
possessing me. My molested body responded by moving a little faster 
against him as I held his head still so my tongue could perhaps gain an 
advantage in our sparring. Soft whimpers rose from my throat as more of my 
growing passion filled my knickers. 

"Take off your shorts and your knickers," he whispered in a husky voice 
between gasps for air once the kiss ended. Despite my surprise at that 
particular request, I complied, kicking off the sandals and standing 
between my lover and the table, removing the indicated articles of 
clothing quickly before him. "On the table," he requested, and I sat on 
the edge of the table, leaning back as my mind at last realized what he 
intended to do next. 

Seconds later, he slid the chair closer to the table and leaned forward, 
his head perfectly placed between my legs. I heard him inhale deeply, 
savoring the aroma of my sex, my passion, my love, then felt his kiss 
directly above my womanhood. "Don't tease me!" I pleaded, fearful that he 
would indeed tease me nonetheless. 

He did tease me. First, he planted soft kisses all around the area where I 
most needed to feel his kiss, this as his hands slid up underneath my 
Usagi t-shirt and kneaded my breasts through the cups of my bra. When he 
finally withdrew his hands, he stood between my legs, kicked off his 
shoes, and proceeded to undress as I watched through lust-hazed eyes. Then 
he stepped forward, his powerful phallus in hand, poised to pierce my 
willing body so that we would be joined at the hip once again. 

Instead, he used his meaty erection to gently beat my clitoris. Each 
strike sent a shockwave of pleasure throughout my body, each shockwave 
registering in my soul as a foreshock. I felt myself trembling even as the 
fingers of his free hand respectfully stroked along my labia, spreading 
the passion seeping from deep within me. Soft purrs and mews filled my 
ears, and it took me a moment to realize that those sounds were actually 
coming from me. 

Then he sat again, his head leaning forward once more. With a hand on each 
thigh, I felt first his hot breath, then his hot tongue upon my feminine 
folds, and another lewd vocalization rose from my parted lips. My hands 
moved to my chest, crushing the image of Usagi, my hardened nipples 
responding to my touch despite the two layers of material between breasts 
and palms. 

Time stood still. In the darkness of a strange new apartment in a strange 
new city, two destined lovers grew ever closer. Love filled the air, 
charging the atmosphere in special ways and adding to the intensity of the 
action behind the closed door and curtains. 

When he plunged a pair of fingers inside me, he brushed repeatedly against 
my "special spot" as he fiercely sucked upon my clitoris. Every cell of my 
body exploded with carnal delight, my body lurching with every powerful 
gulp of air. My entire body shook with the power of an intense earthquake 
as my molten passion was expelled into the world. 


I needed a bit of time to recover from the intensity of my orgasm, during 
which my lover simply licked and stroked me gently, lovingly, 
respectfully. He had admitted on previous occasions that he is always in 
awe of me as he watches me experience the throes of ecstasy, and I could 
feel his eyes drinking in my entirety as I recovered, my chest still 
heaving beneath the image of Usagi, my parted lips still emitting soft 
whimpers. 

At last, I nudged him away, and heard him sit back in the chair. Gingerly, 
I rose to a sitting position before him, before the man I adored and 
loved. I do not know if he could see the sweet smile I gave him in the 
darkness as I slipped off the table and knelt between his parted legs. 

Unlike what he had done to me, I was not about to tease him. My fingers 
instantly closed around the base of his fleshy sword, and my mouth 
descended upon it. His erection was already hard and long and hot, poking 
at the top of my throat as I bathed it with my tongue. I had yet to learn 
the art of deepthroating, but knew that now was not the time to attempt 
it. Instead, I wanted to give him the same delight he had granted to me 
just moments earlier. I wanted to cause him to erupt, to spew his seed 
like a geyser and bath me with his passion, marking me as his and his 
alone. 

His hands upon my head helped to keep my hair out of the way, for which I 
was definitely thankful. He did not force or even guide my movements, 
allowing me to do to his as I pleased. From the sound of his breathing, I 
knew that he was close, that the geyser would soon be volleying its 
glorious contents into the air. 

I descended the manly anatomy as far as I possibly could, my lips forming 
a tight seal around the throbbing erection. I hummed loudly around him as 
I fondled his testicles, and his breath caught audibly in his throat with 
his fingers curling against my scalp and his thighs quivering against my 
shoulders. It took only a few seconds before he nearly cried out, "Oh 
my...! I'm gonna...! I'm gonna...! I'm...!" 

Taking that as my cue, I pulled my head back out of his grasp, releasing 
his manhood from the warm, wet cavern of my mouth. Almost immediately, the 
first powerful volley of his hot white desire splattered my face, hitting 
me between my nose and my upper lip. With a hand closed firmly around his 
erupting shaft, I pumped him vigorously, assisted by the movement of his 
hips as he grunted aloud with each jet of passion arcing through the air 
toward me. His orgasm seemed to last forever, and in my mind's eye, I 
imagined myself being covered with so much semen that my hair and face 
were practically obscured from anyone's view, much like the Japanese girls 
in the few bukkake clips I had recently discovered on the Internet. 

We remained like that for a long time, my lover sitting and recovering 
while I knelt between his legs. We held hands, gazing fondly at each other 
in the darkness. Being both fraternal twins and eternal lovers, no words 
were required; we were linked on so many levels, and understood each other 
so well. 

Eventually, I carefully stood, my legs protesting after having spent so 
much time in a kneeling position. "We should probably go to bed," I noted 
quietly. "We'll have a lot of unpacking and rearranging and shopping to do 
tomorrow." 

"I guess you're right." Despite his response, he made no move to stand up. 
I simply shrugged and went to turn on the lamp, casting light upon the 
living room for the first time in seemingly days. 

"Now I feel underdressed." Hearing his wisecrack, I realized that I was 
still wearing my t-shirt and bra. Looking down the front of my body, I 
noticed that Usagi's face was clearly splattered with his essence. 

Did that make my lover Mamoru? The odd thought made me smile to myself as 
I approached him again, drinking in his wonderful nudity as he finally 
stood. 

We hugged tightly, his manhood slowly lengthening between us. "You just 
can't get enough of me, can you?" I joked, my hands slipping down to cup 
his lower cheeks. But I could not joke too much about that subject, as I 
was still rather moist between the legs. 

"How can I not?" he replied honestly, whispering into my ear. "I'm holding 
the most important person in the world to me, and she also happens to be 
pretty damn sexy as well!" 

"And don't forget," I added, "I'm splattered with your cum." Then, as an 
afterthought, "And so is Usagi." 

"So that makes me Mamoru?" 

We laughed together, holding each other a little tighter. Then we kissed, 
and I could taste myself on his lips, and was certain that he could taste 
himself upon mine. It was the sweetest, most special kiss of my young life 
to date, and it lingered for a long, long time as we stood alone in our 
apartment, our home, with a lifetime of togetherness ahead of us. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 02
by WFEATHER ©

Chapter 02: Discussion

During the summer, on those occasions when we were both home alone, my big 
brother and I would gather in either my bedroom or his and sit at the 
laptop – specifically, I would sit atop his lap – while searching the 
Internet for various stories, audio files, video clips, and pictures of 
sexual activity. Not surprisingly, brother-sister erotica was a favorite 
for us, but we both also marveled at the inhuman rape of the female 
characters in the hentai images and video clips we found online. 

On our first morning alone in our apartment in Berkeley, my forbidden 
lover spooned with me, violating my body as he respectfully molested me, 
his touches slow and gentle underneath my Totoro bedspread. 

"Do you remember the last set of hentai clips we found online?" he asked 
softly into the back of my head. "The one where the blue-haired babe was 
trying to swim away while an octopus was having its way with her?" 

I giggled quietly, remembering that particular eight-clip scene vividly. 
The "blue-haired babe" in question had decided to go skinny-dipping in a 
small lake on the property she had just bought, not knowing that a 
lecherous old octopus lived at the bottom of the lake and thrived on the 
sexual fluids of young women. I also remembered sitting in my big 
brother's lap, watching and listening with rapt attention as he ran his 
hands up underneath my tank top, opened my front-hook bra, and kneaded my 
hard-tipped breasts while I wiggled repeatedly across the very noticeable 
bulge in his shorts. 

"'If only I were the octopus and you were the girl,' you whispered to me," 
I replied softly, "and I remember wishing the same thing, wishing that it 
was me being inhumanly raped just so I could know what it would feel like 
to have something so unusual being forced up inside me like that again and 
again." 

At that moment, my big brother thrust into me several times, then stilled 
himself inside me once more. "That was nice," I admitted, knowing that he 
could hear my smile. 

"Have there been any other hentai clips you particularly liked?" he asked. 


I somehow had the feeling that this line of questioning was designed to 
lead toward a specific goal. Unfortunately, I was unable to determine 
exactly what his goal was in this case. He was already buried deep inside 
me, so it could certainly not be a "ploy" to try to fuck me. Was he trying 
to find out what types of hentai I liked more than others? Perhaps was he 
leading me toward what he liked in terms of hentai? Maybe he was trying to 
hint of things he wanted to try with me now that we would have plenty of 
time alone? 

The latter question consumed my mind for a moment. Clearly, he was not a 
shapeshifter, so he did not have the ability to suddenly grow a few 
tentacles and rape me like the perverted octopus. What else would he want 
to try? Anal sex? Did he want to share me with someone – and, given that 
we had just moved into the apartment less than twenty-four hours earlier, 
who would he know in Berkeley to share me with? Back east, we had attended 
anime conventions in costume on occasion, so did he perhaps want me to 
find or make a specific costume and dress as that character to bring a 
hentai scene into reality? 

I turned my thoughts back to his question. Had there been any other hentai 
clips I particularly liked? 

"You're blushing," he noted, even though I could still feel his forehead 
against the back of my head. Yet again, my fraternal twin knew me just 
about as well as I knew myself. Once his comment permeated my thoughts, it 
was only then that I realized that I felt warmer, especially in the face 
and neck and chest. 

I simply nodded. What else could I do? 

"Why are you blushing? You know that I won't think bad of you based on 
your answer." 

I still drew a deep breath – one which subtly jostled his hand upon my 
breast – before I replied. "I liked the bondage ones the best." 

I heard my big brother's smile and felt him swell subtly within me. "You 
and I must be subconsciously telepathic," he quipped, then thrust slowly 
into me again, causing me to moan softly. 

A few moments of silence passed before I asked, "What did you like most 
about those bondage clips? Other than seeing those naked tits, I mean." 

We laughed together as my prohibited lover fondled my chest. He was 
definitely a "breast man," and he definitely made no qualms about it. When 
we were alone, he would often touch my breasts, squeezing them, feeling 
their weight in the palms of his hands, supporting them like a human bra, 
pinching or flicking the nipples, using them for leverage as he made love 
to me from behind. He would even occasionally spank my breasts lightly, or 
play them like bongo drums. Yet I definitely did not mind, as I had long 
felt that my chest was my best asset, and it had always given me quite a 
thrill when someone openly stared at my chest – especially when the 
"someone" happened to be my fraternal twin. 

"Well," he said, pausing to kiss my bare shoulder, "I was often imagining 
that it was you tied to the bedposts, or bound with ropes suspended from 
the ceiling, or being restrained by alien tentacles. I would picture you 
being suddenly exposed as your clothes were ripped off. I would imagine 
that I was hearing your screams as you were being beaten and whipped, or 
forced to endure devious sex toys or inhuman appendages." 

I considered that for a moment as I placed my hand upon his upon my 
breast. "I had wondered what it would be like to do all that as well," I 
admitted. "I don't think I'd want to be suspended from the ceiling, but to 
be tied with ropes or chains, or made to kneel before you and pleasure 
you, or even to be whipped and toyed with, I have wondered what that would 
be like, how I would feel, how well I would deal with the pain and whether 
I would somehow perversely enjoy being hurt, especially if I was 
experiencing all that with you." 

"Really?" His voice carried an undertone of surprise. "You really want to 
experience that? You really want to submit to me, baby sister? You really 
want me to hurt you?" 

"Yes," I replied, then added, "Master." 

"Not quite yet," he laughed into the back of my head. "We both have a lot 
to learn first before we truly embark down that path. I have done a very 
little research thus far online, and I know enough to understand that it 
can be somewhat dangerous if we want to try anything beyond just the 
barebones basics." 

We were silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying the intimacy. Then I 
happened to glance up at the digital alarm clock, and realized that the 
cable installation technician could arrive in as little as an hour. "We'd 
best get up and get dressed," I noted sadly. "And we'd better air out the 
bedroom, or the installation guy will wonder why this bedroom smells like 
sex when a brother and sister are living together." 

"So what? Let the installation guy wonder!" 

And my big brother made love to me. He rolled me to my stomach, slithered 
his hands underneath my breasts, and began to move within me. It was 
gentle and respectful, intimate and romantic, and so very different from 
our prior discussion. 

I completely forgot about the impending cable installation, as well as the 
entire world outside our tiny new home. The upcoming first semester was 
absolutely neglected. My big brother and I were all that mattered. Time 
stood still, and the future was full of unfathomable joy and delight for 
us both. 

Fortunately, the cable installation technician did not arrive until well 
after noon. That was good, because my big brother and I made love several 
times throughout the morning, each time with our voices singing together 
and my body being filled with his incestuous seed. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 03
by WFEATHER ©

Just days after my big brother and I had moved to California, I found 
myself a part-time job. In high school, I had worked part-time at a local 
family-owned video store, and I found a similar job in Berkeley. The only 
differences were the location, and the fact that this particular store was 
owned by a divorced childless woman and not a full family. 

The video store itself was within easy walking distance of our apartment 
building, and the clientele was largely students from the surrounding 
neighborhoods. There was a bit for me to learn – a different store layout, 
of course, but also different opening and closing procedures and a 
different cash register program – but I learned it all rather quickly and 
put in as many hours as I possibly could before classes were to begin. The 
owner even called my previous bosses and was well pleased with their 
response, resulting in my being granted one of the most coveted shifts in 
terms of pay: Saturday closing. 

One nice thing about this particular job was that everyone was paid 
weekly, not every two weeks, which the owner said made things easier on 
her. It was also a nice thing for the employees – all college students, 
with the exception of one high school student – to have a more "steady" 
stream of income instead of waiting every other week. To be honest, my big 
brother and I could have easily bypassed working given the size of our 
savings accounts and stock portfolios created by our parents just after we 
were born, but I definitely did not want to deplete my savings unless 
absolutely necessary, and my big brother felt the same. 

Because I started mid-week, I had to wait to paydays to receive my first 
paycheck. It happened to be on Saturday night, when the owner gave me my 
check prior to the start of my shift. "Don't spend it all in one place!" 
she advised with a wink and a smile as she handed it to me, and I laughed 
along with her, for I already knew how I planned to spend at least part of 
the paycheck. 

After class on Monday, I sought out a lingerie store. I did not have 
anything particular in mind in terms of what I would specifically buy; I 
only knew that I wanted to surprise my forbidden lover with something sexy 
that night. Just seeing all the possibilities and thinking of my big 
brother undressing me was making me wet, and I had to fight with myself to 
keep the impending smile off my face. 

When I finally returned to the apartment, however, I allowed myself to 
smile openly. 

*****

After dinner and a long cuddle while watching TV, my big brother went to 
his bedroom to start his first college assignment: an opinion paper on a 
particular article posted to the course Web site. Fortunately, I did not 
have any assignments following my first day of college, so I instead 
retired to my own bedroom to prepare for my forbidden lover's surprise. 

In time, I looked at myself in the mirror, quite pleased at the young 
woman looking back at me. All I wore was a black mesh crotchless teddy 
which left nothing to the imagination. Small embroidered red roses circled 
each cup of the thin garment, effectively decorating each breast. A small 
red bow rested atop the mons, adding additional decoration. The 
thong-style back felt odd, having something nestled between my lower 
cheeks, but it also felt sexy in itself. The teddy had no back, only a 
series of thin straps to ensure the mesh front would stay affixed to my 
front... until properly exposed by a specific person. 

As I watched myself in the mirror, I brushed my hair until it felt rather 
fluffy as it tumbled down my exposed upper back, then added just a subtle 
hint of rouge to my cheeks. Then, figuring that my big brother would 
eventually come looking for me once he had completed his assignment, I lit 
a few candles in my bedroom, turned off the light, and stretched out on my 
back upon the bed. My legs parted to reveal the crotchless nature of the 
teddy, my hands resting palms-up on either side of my head in the 
universal symbol of surrender, I waited, closing my eyes and trying to 
anticipate my forbidden lover's reaction to seeing me like this. 

"For me?" 

I slowly opened my eyes and smiled, seeing my big brother standing in the 
doorway, nude with the exception of his usual black briefs, with his eyes 
wide and his grinning face practically glowing. "For you, big brother," I 
replied softly. 

Already, I could see a stirring within the briefs my forbidden lover wore 
as he slowly approached the bed in the dim candlelight. He finally sat on 
the bed, looking me over once again before bending down to kiss me. While 
it was a struggle, I kept my arms in their surrender position, only moving 
my lips to kiss him even though I wanted to pull him on top of me, feel 
his weight pressing me into the bed. 

He at last sat up again, openly admiring me, admiring the see-through 
teddy, as he stroked my thigh. "When did you buy this?" 

"Today," I answered, "after class. I felt it would be a good way to spend 
part of the first paycheck." 

His hand slid up my thigh to the base of my torso, a finger slipping 
through the thin garment to gently stroke along my moistening folds. "You 
realize that you may as well be naked right now, don't you?" 

"Then you'd better undress me if you really want me to be truly naked for 
you," I returned with a soft laugh. 

He actually thought about that for a few moments, his finger finally 
penetrating my body. "Not quite yet," he said, perhaps more to himself 
than to me. He slipped a second finger inside me, then a third finger, 
then pressed his thumb against my clitoris, then closed his hand as if he 
was squeezing a rubbery toy ball. 

I had to admit, that felt really, really good. I closed my eyes and sighed 
softly, my lips parted. My hands still had not moved from their surrender 
position, and I was beginning to wonder if my big brother understood why 
my hands were by my head. 

"If I were to suck on your clit right now, would you mind?" he asked, 
surprising me with the question. "Of course not!" I replied quickly, my 
eyes still closed. 

"If I were to fuck you with the force of a rapist, would you mind?" "No, 
I'd love it if you raped me!" 

"If I were to grab your tits and squeeze until you were crying in pain and 
begging me to let you, would you mind?" "Perhaps a little, but that would 
still be okay." 

"If I were to suddenly shred your lingerie from you, would you mind?" "I'd 
be disappointed, since I'd love to wear this for you again sometime, but I 
wouldn't mind too much." 

"I'd definitely like to see you wearing this again as well," he responded 
honestly. 

Throughout our banter, his fingers had been moving within me, his thumb 
slipping across my clitoris with a similar rhythm. My body had begun to 
move in counterpoint, attempting to draw the familiar digits ever deeper 
inside me, attempting to have him lovingly stroking my very soul. I never 
needed much encouragement for my womanhood to weep with desire, and such 
was the case in this situation. 

Opening my eyes again, I looked at my big brother's crotch, noting that 
his sex was indeed ready to violate me. I so wanted to touch it, touch 
him, cause him to feel the same pleasure which was coursing through my 
blood and electrifying my nerves because of his illicit touches. 

Unfortunately, his hands left my body, and I whimpered softly in protest. 
However, he worked his sex through the opening in his briefs, then moved 
between my spread thighs, and it was clear what he planned to do: 

He was going to make love to me even while we were both still clothed 
(more or less). 

This was indeed a new experience for me. I was officially dressed, yet I 
was fully exposed, with my big brother's fleshy sword sheathed within me. 
My hands were still in their surrender position, and my big brother leaned 
forward, grasping my hands in that position. 

His face poised above mine, my big brother's eyes locked with mine as our 
bodies began to move against each other. Our lovemaking was slow, 
romantic, respectful, peppered with sweet lingering kisses that stole the 
breath from my lungs, yet it was no less powerful when my toes curled and 
my silent scream filled the candlelit bedroom. 

My chest heaving in the aftermath, I was graced by a kiss and a quick lick 
to the tip of my nose, which made me smile and laugh weakly. My forbidden 
lover then released my hands and leaned back, still buried within my 
quivering wet sheath. We both looked down to where our bodies were fused 
into one entity, and I moved my hands at last, feeling along the junction 
of our joining, touching my sex and his simultaneously. 

Leaning back on his heels, he encouraged me to sit upon him, so I moved to 
change position, impaling myself again as I sat atop his thighs. Our arms 
encircled each other, and we kissed slowly, our hands roaming and 
exploring. The candlelight made the entire situation rather romantic, 
especially as I felt our hearts beating in perfect synchronization. 

In time, however, I needed more than just a romantic cuddle while being 
deeply penetrated. Tightening my grip around his shoulders, I began to 
move. Soon the slapping sounds of our bodies was unmistakable in the 
bedroom, the wet sloshing sounds also discernable to my ears and to my 
skin. 

I was shoved backward upon the bed, yelping in surprise at the sudden 
action and barely able to get my hands down behind me. With his hands 
firmly gripping my hips, my big brother began to really rut into me, his 
grunts loud and heavy in the energy-filled air. He rose up on his knees, 
raising me as well, pounding into me with such an incredible force that it 
almost felt as if my breasts would be ripped from my body given how 
rapidly they were whipping back and forth atop my chest, yet even their 
whiplash movements added to the overall sensations I was feeling 
throughout my entire being. 

As another orgasm consumed me, my arms gave out, my head and shoulders 
falling to the bed. My body was arched severely, yet I did not feel any 
discomfort, the adrenaline masking any strain on my muscles and spine. My 
forbidden lover's thrusts suddenly stopped, and I could hear him struggle 
to hold back his own release. Then he rammed into me severely once, backed 
out slowly, rammed into me severely again, backed out slowly again, then 
rammed into me severely one final time and filled me with his white-hot 
love, calling my name several times. 

When I awoke in the morning, I was still wearing the barely-there teddy, 
with my big brother's arm draped across my stomach and his head upon my 
shoulder. He had not bothered to tuck himself back inside his briefs, and 
the sight of his manhood brought a smile to both my lips as I remembered 
the events which had taken place upon the very same bed just hours 
earlier. 

But what I found most unique was that the lingerie I had bought with part 
of my first paycheck was still actually being worn. I was still "fully 
dressed," yet rather sated. 

I made a mental note to look for some other crotchless items. 


 
Twins in College Ch. 04
by WFEATHER ©

My big brother and I had met Valerie on a few occasions, and she knew that 
we were fraternal twins. Valerie was our neighbor, a college Junior living 
alone in her two-bedroom apartment since her former roommate had moved out 
at the end of the previous academic year, and we had often seen her 
entering or leaving her apartment while we were doing the same. Since I 
was the one who typically did the laundry, I would occasionally also see 
her in the laundry room beneath our apartment. 

Valerie was indeed a stunning young woman. She was tall, about as tall as 
my big brother, and when she wore a skirt, it seemed as if her legs were 
each a mile in length; if she wore a skirt and heels, her legs somehow 
seemed even longer, even to my eyes. Her strawberry-colored hair and her 
many noticeable freckles inherently attracted the eyes of everyone in the 
vicinity. The tight tops she would typically wear definitely emphasized 
her breasts, and more than a few times I kidded my big brother about 
staring at Valerie's chest. 

As I was removing the laundry from one of the dryers and folding the 
clothes, Valerie came into the laundry room carrying a large basket of 
dirty clothes. We chatted a bit: football, classes, an upcoming party one 
of her friends would be hosting, what we would be wearing for the 
building's Halloween celebration for the neighborhood kids... 

Then, the conversation changed abruptly, just as I was about to return 
upstairs: 

"Is your brother... Is he fucking you?" 

I felt simultaneously hot and cold: hot from an instant blush, cold from 
the realization that my big brother and I had been discovered. 

"If not, who is it that has you wailing so wantonly so often? I'm jealous!!!" 

I felt instantly relieved. Valerie knew that I was living with my big 
brother, and that we attended different colleges in the Bay Area. However, 
she seemed to think that there was another guy with access to my apartment 
to take his pleasure from my body. That was fine with me; in my opinion, 
she could think whatever she wanted to think about me and my big brother. 

"I shall never tell," I finally said with a wink and a smile, picking up 
my laundry basket. "And I shall never reveal your secret either, about how 
you moan sexily many evenings in your living room. I hope whoever is 
pleasuring you is someone I can someday meet as well." 

I would assume that my last statement had caused Valerie's jaw to rebound 
off the floor of the laundry room. 

By the time I returned to the apartment, however, I was shaken again. I 
was internally berating myself for allowing any hint of my beautiful, 
illicit relationship to seep out from the four walls I shared with my 
fraternal twin. 

Yet, as I was putting away my big brother's clothes, I began to change my 
mind. The threat of having this socially-unacceptable relationship 
discovered somehow added an additional "thrill" to the love I felt within 
these walls. It was something I simply could not explain. 

About an hour later, just as I finished making dinner, by forbidden lover 
returned from his classes. By this time, I was back to my usual cheery 
self, wearing just a black thong and my matching old faded Maki Burn-Up! 
t-shirt. As I stirred a pot on the stove, he came up behind me, cupping my 
breasts as he kissed the top of my head. 

After dinner, I laid upon him on the sofa, my back to his front as he 
fondled my body, causing the crotch of my thong to dampen. With all the 
curtains closed, it was fairly dark in the apartment, with an Enigma CD 
playing softly as sandalwood incense burned nearby: 


The principles of lust are easy to understand


Do what you feel, feel until the end


The principles of lust are burned in your mind


Do what you want, do it until you find love

"I've found my love," he whispered huskily into my ear as he wrapped his 
arms tightly around me. I giggled softly, caressing his arms. I did indeed 
feel loved: loved in terms of body and mind and heart and soul. 

But then, Valerie's question echoed in my mind: "Is your brother... Is he 
fucking you?" 

"What is it?" Yet again, even without seeing my face, my big brother was 
able to know what I was feeling. He could sense my confusion and my fear, 
as momentary and as fleeting as they were. I simply shook my head, took 
his right hand, and moved it down my torso to cup my sex through my 
dampened thong. 

He continued to touch me intimately, to touch me in ways most people would 
abhor between a brother and a sister, yet I could definitely feel his 
concern. 

When the CD ended, I slowly stood, bent over to kiss the forbidden lips, 
and retreated to my bedroom to study, and to think. 

*****

It must have been about 11:30PM when, wearing just the thong, I stepped 
into my big brother's bedroom. "Will you be coming to bed soon, or will 
you be studying a bit longer?" 

He looked up from his textbook and set down his pen upon his notebook. 
"I'll probably be another half-hour or so," he said. "Why don't you slip 
into my bed tonight?" 

"Sure," I agreed. I tugged off the thong and dropped it in his lap before 
I kissed his cheek, then slipped into the familiar bed, pulling the covers 
over my head to block out the light of the desktop lamp he was using. 

I must have fallen asleep instantly, for seemingly seconds later, I felt 
the protective arms surrounding me, and I instinctively rolled upon my 
forbidden lover. My face pressed into his neck, I inhaled his natural 
scent as his arms enveloped me with care, feeling secure once again in the 
knowledge that, no matter what society – or a particular neighbor – may 
think, this love was predestined, as natural as a breath of fresh air. 

*****

I dreamed of my fraternal twin, as usual. I dreamed that we were on a 
private yacht, drifting aimlessly on the sea. Standing naked against the 
railing, I watched the sun sink toward the watery horizon as he stood 
behind me, gently manipulating my feminine swells as he whispered loving 
yet naughty thoughts and observations into my ear. Then a mermaid rose up 
from the sea, jumping high into the air before descending beneath the 
surface, only to jump out of the water yet again. 

...bearing the face of Valerie, staring at us, staring at me, her 
expression one of absolute shock, even absolute horror. 

I awoke with a start, my mind not yet comprehending how it could suddenly 
be so dark. My body was trembling, covered with sweat as I sat up in bed, 
my chest heaving. Looking at my naked twin beside me, I saw that he was 
definitely in a deep sleep. 

Without really knowing why, I climbed over my forbidden lover and out of 
bed without awakening him. The dimmed slideshow screensaver of his laptop 
caught my attention for a moment, and I watched as several pictures of us 
– pictures taken with his Webcam, pictures of us in various forms of 
illicit intimacy – floated across the screen. I remembered the evening 
when he had set his Webcam to "auto-snapshot" to take a picture of us 
every ten seconds, and relived those beautiful carnal memories through 
these pictures, even as my mind focused on Valerie's question: 

"Is your brother... Is he fucking you?" 

Yes, my big brother is definitely fucking me, I replied in my mind, and 
he'll continue fucking me even when we're centenarians living in a nursing 
home together!!! 

Smiling at that thought, I realized my mouth was dry, and quietly made my 
way to the kitchen, ultimately pouring myself a half-glass of Sprite. Cup 
in hand, I returned to the living room and sat on the sofa, enjoying the 
darkness and the thrill of being completely naked. Even though he was 
asleep in a different room, I could still feel his love surrounding me, 
nearly as tangible as having his arms enfold me. 

A soft feminine sound drifted through the wall. I listened intently for a 
moment, trying to assure myself that I had indeed heard what I thought I 
had heard, then I heard it again. Then I heard it again. And again. And 
again. It was definitely Valerie's voice, steadily growing louder and more 
needful. 

I set the cup on the coffee table, leaned back in the sofa, and allowed my 
hands to both drift between my thighs. "Yes..." I heard through the wall, 
definitely recognizing it as Valerie's voice, noting the moisture 
accumulating upon my fingers. 

I closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment... Between Valerie's voice 
and the work of my own hands upon and within my body, I was entirely lost 
in the moment. My own breathing soon became heavy and loud in my ears, 
even as I focused upon the sultry feminine voice piercing the shared wall, 
I imagined that my own big brother was the one touching me so intimately. 

...and then, suddenly, a pair of hands further parted my thighs. My eyes 
snapped open, and in the darkness, I watched as my forbidden lover's face 
approached my lower lips. I first felt his breath upon my sex as my hands 
retreated to my chest, then I felt his tongue directly upon my sensitive 
clitoris, my soft voice announcing the result of that illicit contact. 

Valerie's orgasm hit her long before I succumbed to mine. Her 
barely-strangled cry was beautiful, yet while I enjoyed occasionally 
listening to erotic audio files online (and had more than a few on my 
laptop), her voice combined with my big brother's tongue and fingers were 
not quite enough to bring me to the height of sexual delight, for my 
neighbor's question – accusing me of being a brother fucker – still 
subconsciously weighed heavily upon my mind... which fortunately allowed 
me to enjoy my big brother's loving treatment even longer. 

"Cum for me," he finally whispered up to me. Then he launched into full 
assault mode. 

Very quickly, he sent me into a frenzy. I grabbed at the sofa, at his 
head, at my own chest. My body writhed and bucked from my forbidden 
lover's immoral actions. Knowing Valerie was just across the wall and 
likely still awake following her own fun, I struggled to keep my own voice 
at bay, my teeth gritted in that effort. 

Then, suddenly, my world exploded, yet somehow, I was able to remain 
essentially silent, my breathing so loud that what little rational thought 
permitted to me wondered if Valerie could hear my heavy breathing and 
guess (correctly) as to its cause. 

Eventually, my sweet, gentle lover carried me back to his bed. We held 
each other close as we drifted again to sleep. Yet while I felt deeply 
loved and revered, I also felt rather guilty, for my lover was also my 
twin brother. 

*****

"You've never taken that long to finally cum before," my big brother 
observed softly the following morning as we walked toward the BART station 
the following morning. "Not that I really mind – I adore eating you, 
tasting you, sucking on your lips, dipping my tongue inside you, grazing 
your clit with my teeth..." 

"Stop that!" I said with a laugh, elbowing him gently in the ribs. "You're 
making me blush and people will wonder why!" 

And that was when I realized that, somehow, sleep had helped to squelch my 
feelings of guilt for indeed being a brother fucker. And – once again, as 
before – while I knew the importance of at least attempting to keep our 
unacceptable relationship a secret, I simply did not care what anyone else 
thought of our relationship, or of me. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 05
by WFEATHER ©

Chapter 05: Black

"I have an idea," my big brother suggested. "How about pizza tonight?" 

How could I refuse? Just the mention of the word "pizza" made my mouth 
water as I thought of pepperoni and pineapple and bacon combined together. 


"With that wide smile," he joked, "I'll take that as a 'yes.'" 

I hugged my big brother tightly. In actuality, while it was my night to 
cook dinner, I was not really in the mood to cook anyhow, and we were out 
of leftovers. 

"But first, I have a request..." 

"You want to fuck me inside the glass door to the apartment complex while 
we're waiting for the pizza to arrive?" I joked. 

"Intriguing," he admitted with a laugh, "but no. Something more simple, 
more basic, less conspicuous." 

That had me intrigued, and I looked into my big brother's eyes. 

"Go put on some all-black outfit," he said. "For me. Please." 

That was indeed a most unusual request after talking about ordering pizza. 
I tried for several seconds, but simply could not fathom how pizza and 
black clothing went together – even if he were to instigate a food fight, 
the dark color would almost certainly prevent anything "incriminating" 
from being revealed to his eyes. The fact that we are fraternal twins did 
not help in this case, as I simply could not crack the code of his 
sometimes-twisted thinking. 

"Okay," I finally agreed. "Do you want me to wear anything specific, or 
just anything in black?" 

He thought for a moment. "Black miniskirt, tight black tank top, no bra, 
no knickers, black low heels." He kissed my forehead briefly. "While you're 
changing, I'll order the usual. Okay with you?" 

"Okay with me." I kissed him briefly on the lips, then stepped away. "And 
get two two-liters of Dr. Pepper, okay? We're about out and I forgot to 
buy more on the way home today." 

"Will do." He moved toward the telephone while I retired to my bedroom to 
change into the requested outfit, still baffled by his rather specific 
request. 

When I returned to the living room, no one was there. So I went to my big 
brother's bedroom to find him stretched out on the bed, fully naked. Now I 
was definitely intrigued as to why he would want for me to be dressed like 
this while he wore only his birthday suit. 

Upon seeing me, he held out a hand to me, and I approached, taking his 
hand and sitting on the bed beside him. He pulled me down for a kiss, and 
my hand seemed to shoot directly to his growing erection as if fired from 
a cannon. It did not take long for him to begin moaning softly into my 
mouth, and my moans joined his as he deftly manipulated a breast. 

Eventually, however, I was nudged away, and I gave a mock pout. "Get on 
your hands and knees," he instructed me, and I complied. I cooed softly as 
he pushed my black denim miniskirt up atop my rear. I wiggled my ass at 
him, smiling when I heard his soft sigh of appreciation. 

"What are you planning?" I asked my big brother, but his voice did not 
answer me. Instead, he teased me as his response, sliding the tip of his 
meaty shaft along my sex, spreading my natural lubrication. He also 
spanked me a few times, increasing the warmth below my hips. 

When my forbidden lover finally entered my body, it was slow and cautious, 
respectful and loving. Once he was fully sheathed within me, his hands 
slid up my tank top, gliding along my skin en route to my chest. Cupping 
my breasts, he hauled me upward until my back was against his chest, then 
began to move within me. Through my tank top, I placed my hands over his, 
causing him to squeeze my feminine swells as his thrusts slowly increased 
in speed and force. 

Just as I was mewing like a kitten, his hands retracted from inside my 
tank top, and he pushed me back down to my hands and knees again upon the 
bed. Gripping my hips, he became more rough with me, turning from romantic 
to lustful. 

"Take me hard!" I pleaded between moans of delight, and he complied. His 
fingernails dug into my hips as he took control of my body, slamming me 
back into him as he rutted into me. We were soon both grunting rather 
loudly, and I was definitely sweating inside the tank top, but I did not 
care. Yet even as the copulation continued, a small part of my mind was 
still trying to calculate what my big brother had in mind with this 
particular scenario. 

A hand left my hip, then found my clitoris. "Yes!" I squealed as his 
fingers began to deftly toy with my sensitive bud, and what little control 
I had began to erode rapidly. Between the repeated filling of my sex and 
the incredible sensations firing outward from my clitoris and the swaying 
of my breasts beneath me and the fact that my own big brother was the one 
causing the passion within me to rise so rapidly, I knew that I would soon 
scream for him. 

His other hand left my hip, and suddenly my head was being pulled backward 
by my hair. It was definitely uncomfortable, not painful, but it added yet 
another layer of delight to the prohibited encounter. My squeals and moans 
and grunts ever louder, I backed against him with ferocious need, 
wondering just how long I could hold back my loving deluge before the dam 
of my willpower finally broke. 

Just as the dam splintered apart and my voice rang out in the bedroom, I 
felt myself shoved forward onto my stomach, and suddenly my body was 
empty. I screamed into a pillow, humping the bed furiously, not fully 
comprehending the fact – or even wondering why – I no longer felt any 
tactile contact with my big brother, even though I could still sense his 
presence and his love. 

Calmed at last, I lifted my head and looked around to find myself alone in 
the bedroom. My clothes definitely were sticking to me, making me feel 
somewhat uncomfortable. Slowly, I rose from the bed, and looked at myself 
in the mirror on the inside of the closet door, noting the visible damp 
spots of sweat upon my front, especially around my chest. My face was 
still flushed, and my hair was not what one would expect from a "good 
girl." The scent of sex was definitely noticeable, but I was uncertain if 
it was simply because I was in the bedroom or if that scent was emanating 
heavily from me. 

Still baffled by the entire situation, I decided to demand some answers 
from my forbidden lover, and found him in the living room, now wearing 
shorts as he set out plates and cups on the table. "You look like you've 
just been fucked," he noted aloud with a definite smile and a glimmer of 
wickedness in his eyes. 

"If I look that way, it's because you did this to me!" I stepped up behind 
him and pressed myself against him, wrapping my arms around his chest. As 
I kissed his back between the shoulder blades, I could taste the dried 
sweat and smell the scent of sex upon him. 

"Why didn't you cum inside me like you usually do?" I asked. "And also, 
why did you want me wearing such a specific outfit this time? Do you have 
some new type of fetish or something that I should know about?" 

"No," he replied, avoiding my first two questions. Stepping out of my 
grasp, he went over to the stereo and put in a CD. Seconds later, the 
opening notes of "Orinoco Flow" filled the air. 

"Do you intend to continue avoiding my questions?" I asked. "You've really 
baffled me this time!" 

"Good." 

The door buzzer sounded, signaling that our dinner had arrived. "Even 
better," my big brother said softly. Then, turning to me: "Can you go get 
the pizza and drinks, please?" 

"Um, sure," I replied. I saw the money had already been set atop the 
bookcase by the door, so I checked that the person awaiting at the front 
of the building was indeed the pizza delivery person, then went downstairs 
to pay for and accept our dinner. 

The entire transaction was normal, although I did notice the delivery guy 
glancing at my chest a few times, but, even without the visible sweat 
stains, that was not unusual. As I handed him the money, I noticed that my 
big brother had provided a larger-than-usual tip, but I figured he knew 
what he was doing. 

I left the delivery guy at the door as it closed and turned around to 
mount the nearby staircase. "Oh my goodness! Damn!!!" I heard him exclaim, 
which seemed odd to me, but I did not pay the comment too much attention, 
even though it seemed like an unusual thing for him to say. 

"What was his reaction?" I was asked once I returned to the apartment with 
the pizza and drinks. 

"He said, 'Oh my goodness! Damn!!!'" I replied as my big brother lifted 
the two plastic Dr. Pepper bottles from atop the sturdy pizza box. When I 
noticed his wide grin, I had to demand again, "Just what the heck is going 
on here?" 

"Set the pizza on the table and take off your top," he instructed me as he 
took the drinks to the kitchen. This was definitely quite weird, and I was 
actually starting to feel rather uncomfortable about the entire situation, 
despite my deep love for and undying trust in my big brother. Nonetheless, 
I complied. 

...and as I held the garment in my hand, I noticed a few drying streaks of 
white upon the back of the black tank top. 

"You didn't!!!" 

"I did." 

To say I was mortified does not even begin to explain how I felt, yet part 
of me also found the situation to be quite original and even humorous. I 
fell to a sitting position in one of the chairs at the table, and wanted 
to both cry and laugh at the same time. 

A moment later, I felt the familiar arms cradling my head as my big 
brother stood beside me. Instinctively, I buried my face in his ribs, my 
arms wrapped tightly around him, tears streaming down my face as I laughed 
uncontrollably. I felt both used and suckered, yet the brilliance of his 
plan was certainly not lost on me. 

"Did I push things too far?" he asked quietly, his voice just barely 
audible above the music yet clearly full of concern. 

Did he push things too far? I could not decide. Yet somehow, despite being 
our usual order, the pizza that night was the best I had tasted to date. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 06
by WFEATHER ©

"My older brother is coming to visit this weekend!" Valerie beamed as she 
transferred her laundry from a washer to an adjacent dryer. "I haven't 
seen him since Spring Break." 

"That's good to know," I stated as I began to load my big brother's 
laundry into another washer. "Where does he live again?" 

"David works in D.C., a staffer to some Representative whose name I can 
never remember." Valerie shrugged. "Then again, he's the one who adores 
politics, not me. For me, the most political thing I tend to think about 
is how pissed off some ultra-far-right person would be if I wore a 
particular outfit!" 

I had to smile at that. Valerie's wardrobe could easily be summarized in 
two words: "tight" and "revealing." Even the "casual" clothing she liked 
to wear – ripped denim shorts and tube top – embodied those two words as 
much as did her own body. 

A few minutes later, Valerie returned upstairs to her apartment, leaving 
her laundry basket behind. I started the washing machine and sat at the 
table, opening a textbook and a notebook to do some studying while the 
washing machine did its work. 

*****

I decided to surprise my big brother and meet him at the BART station, and 
his smile when he saw me made the decision worthwhile. He gave me a long, 
tight hug – certainly attracting the attention of passersby – before we 
began the walk back to our tiny, cozy, love-filled home. 

"Guess who's coming to visit Valerie this weekend?" I began. Then I simply 
blurted out the answer: "Her older brother. She seemed really excited to 
have him visiting her again." 

"'Again?'" 

"She's a Junior, remember. She moved to the apartment last year, but her 
roommate later moved out to live with her fiancé. Her brother was last 
here to see her during Spring Break, and her internship had kept her here 
all summer long, so it's definitely been a while since they've seen each 
other." 

"Interesting..." my big brother thought aloud. "Perhaps she also has some 
sort of illicit affair with her brother." 

I elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Not every girl makes love to her 
brother like I do!" I quietly pointed out to him. He simply smiled at 
that, shifting his backpack upon his shoulder. 

*****

Friday night, I eagerly swallowed the last of my big brother's sticky 
white love, looking up at him in the dim candlelit living room. "Thank you 
for dessert," I said softly, gently stroking his thighs as his fingers 
continued to toy with my hair. "That was exactly what I needed." 

He knelt before me, and we hugged enthusiastically. Soon we were stretched 
out upon the carpet, allowing our eyes and our hands and our hearts to do 
all the talking. The silence was wonderful, and the air was charged with 
our loving energy. His manhood began to lengthen and solidify again, so I 
decided to tease and entice him, straddling him with his hardening 
erection nestled within the folds of my sex as I slid slowly back and 
forth upon him, both of us sighing contentedly as our hands joined and our 
eyes jousted. 

"You're so beautiful in the candlelight," my forbidden lover whispered 
finally. "Perhaps we should only use candles from now on at night, no 
electric lights." 

I thought about that for a moment. "Then that also means no TV, no DVD 
player, no VCR, no computers, and not even a refrigerator, as they all 
cast off some light, dim or bright." 

"Damn, you're right." Then he pulled me down upon him to kiss me, and I 
could still taste myself upon his lips from when he had eaten me earlier. 

The kiss lingered, deepened, extended. I was losing myself yet again in my 
big brother's immoral touches and prohibited kisses. I had completely 
forgotten about the world outside our four walls, outside our fortress of 
illicit love. 

Then I heard Valerie's voice again as she proclaimed her growing passion. 
Knowing that her brother should have arrived late in the afternoon, it 
seemed only logical that if I was hearing her voice through that 
particular wall, she was in the living room, either performing for her 
brother or giving herself to her brother. 

Do I live next to a brother fucker? I wondered. If so, that is rather ironic!!! 

Somehow, hearing Valerie's occasional gasps and moans penetrating the 
shared wall added fuel to the passionate fire already burning inside my 
soul. As I imagined Valerie laying on a table as her brother sat between 
her legs and gently licked and probed her body, my own body began to hump 
my own brother slowly. Our kisses intensified, as did my own brother's 
groping of my body. "I feel so damn dirty!" I whispered between kisses, 
silenced as my forbidden lover's tongue suddenly shot deep into my open 
mouth. 

Valerie's sounds of desire intensified, as did my humping of my own 
brother. My clitoris impacted his sex just perfectly every time, sending 
shockwaves coursing throughout my body at the speed of lightning. I gave 
up on kissing him, instead burying my face in his neck and clutching his 
head with the desperation of a half-drowned swimmer clinging to a floating 
log. His hands now on my lower cheeks, he used his tight grip to slam my 
clitoris upon his meaty manhood with even more force, and although I tried 
to keep quiet so I could better hear my neighbor's rising passion, my own 
voice rang in my ears, overpowering the thundering sound of my rapid 
heartbeat. 

"Oh Davey! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" 

Indeed, her older brother was sampling her body, and that was the trigger. 
My mouth opened wide in a voiceless scream, the release I sought consumed 
me, setting every cell of my body vibrating rapidly even as I stiffened 
upon my big brother, my crotch ground roughly into his. 

I do not remember being rolled to my back upon the floor. All I know is 
that as my forbidden lover finally sheathed himself inside me, I heard 
Valerie's voice again: 

"Fuck me hard, Davey!" 

While my brother took his time, very slowly making love to me, Valerie's 
brother took her hard and fast. Through the shared wall, I could hear each 
jarring impact of their bodies. Valerie's voice was louder than ever 
before, short, sharp outbursts cut off by each violent impact as the 
breath was forced from her lungs. 

My ankles upon my big brother's shoulders, I gazed deep into his eyes, 
into his soul, and saw the flame of love within him. I wondered for a 
moment if the couple across the wall shared a bond as profound as the one 
I shared with my twin, or if Valerie and Davey were simply using each 
other for occasional short-term gratification instead. 

Valerie's loud wail startled me from my thoughts, causing me to clench 
involuntarily around the welcome invader, which in turn caused my big 
brother to groan softly. I heard her brother begin to grunt, louder and 
louder, practically in sync with the collision of their bodies. "Not in 
me! Not in me!" Valerie cried, and seconds later, the collisions ended, 
but the triumphant male growl was evidence of his release, her squeal 
evidence that his release had indeed landed upon her. 

"Do you think that was her brother Valerie was fucking?" my big brother 
asked quietly, caressing my legs as he held himself still inside me. 

"Definitely," I replied. "I assume Davey and David are the same person. 
And that makes her a brother fucker." 

"Just like you," my big brother stated nonchalantly. 

"Just like me," I agreed with a smile and a nod. "I am most definitely a 
brother fucker. But at least I'm on The Pill, whereas Valerie apparently 
isn't." 

I was indeed a brother fucker, and I was damn proud of it, too!!! But that 
night, however, we did not fuck. Instead, we made love, there on the 
living room floor, multiple times through the night. 

***** 

Monday, I had just left my apartment to go to a morning class when Valerie 
stepped out of her apartment and locked the door. Only then did she notice 
me, but by then, I had already noticed the radiant glow about her. "Good 
morning, Valerie." 

"Hey." She blushed suddenly, apparently just then realizing who had spoken 
to her, then turned and ran off. "I'm late! I've gotta go!" She ran down 
the staircase, and I heard her leave the building while I tried to imagine 
the embarrassment she must have felt, realizing that I had probably heard 
her fucking her brother several times during the weekend, and for just a 
moment, I toyed with the idea of asking her a most unexpected question the 
next time I saw her: 

"Is your brother... Is he fucking you?" 

 
Twins in College Ch. 07
by WFEATHER ©

The video store where I worked kept a stock of adult films. These were 
typically releases from the past six months, after which time the owner 
would list them on eBay at a reduced price. Many of them, she said, would 
sell on the first listing; the others would typically be won on the second 
listing. It was a concept which intrigued me. 

Another concept which intrigued me was simply renting an adult film. 
Certainly, the store had its regular customers who preferred adult films 
to the more mainstream fare. Many of them would blush a little as they 
handed the selected titles to me or one of my co-workers. Some would 
specifically wait until there was no line at the counter before they even 
attempted to approach the register. A few acted rather nonchalantly, as if 
they were renting a Barney title for their pre-school kids or relatives. 
And there were a few who always hit on the female staff when they paid for 
the rental. 

I had no problem whatsoever with going behind the curtain to restock the 
shelves in the adult section. It amazed me at first just how many types of 
fetishes there are... and the adult industry has a plethora of titles for 
each one. From "straight sex" to bisexual to gay to lesbian to legs to big 
busts to hentai to interracial to shemales to Asians to bondage to lolitas 
to gangbangs to bukkake to... In short, just one trip to the adult section 
to restock the shelves was a lesson in itself. 

...a lesson my parents would be shocked to know I had had, voluntarily. 

Ever since I had begun working at the video store, I had wanted to rent an 
adult title – partially just to say I had done it, but partially to watch 
one with my big brother. But I did not want my co-workers or the owner to 
know that I was renting something as "scandalous" as an adult film. 

I finally had my chance. 

To cover for a co-worker when her mother was visiting, several of us 
traded parts of our schedules for parts of hers. At first, I simply added 
a Friday closing shift to my work schedule, with the agreement that she 
would take one of my Saturday close shifts later. But eventually, I ended 
up swapping shifts with another co-worker, so my weekend schedule 
consisted of a Friday close shift followed by a Saturday opening shift, 
with Saturday night off. 

That was my chance. 

After closing Friday night, Joyna and I had nearly finished cleaning when 
her uncle knocked at the back door. I told Joyna to go, as I only had to 
finish vacuuming the adult section anyhow, and I knew that she was never 
truly comfortable in that part of the store. 

Just as Joyna and her uncle were leaving, my big brother arrived. Of 
course, I invited him into the store, and locked the back door behind him. 
Together, we went to the adult section, closing the curtain behind us. 

Immediately, we kissed and hugged. Several minutes must have passed, but 
it seemed like only several seconds. 

"I need to finish vacuuming," I told him. "But I have an idea. Why don't 
you pick out something for us to watch tonight," I said with a wink and a 
smile, "and I'll bring it back with me for the opening shift tomorrow and 
check it back in before anyone notices." 

"It already is tomorrow," he replied, "but sure." 

I resumed vacuuming, smiling to myself. I wondered what my forbidden lover 
would select. My first thought was that he would choose a lesbian title. 
Then I thought of his comments once about some bukkake clips he had found 
online and played for me. Then I remembered our conversation about hentai 
and tentacle rape, and I was almost certain that he would select a hentai 
title. 

I finished and put the vacuum back in its place in the closet behind the 
counter, then returned to the adult section. "How about this one?" my big 
brother asked. "It's a selection of amateur-made bondage videos, and from 
the screenshots, some of it looks rather intense." 

As I reached him, I took the box from his hands and looked over the 
description and the images. It seemed that every dominant was male and 
every submissive was female. 

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Good choice." I kissed his cheek, then 
turned to go check this out. 

However, I was suddenly grabbed by the breasts and pulled back into my big 
brother's chest. "Of course," he whispered, "we could also just spend the 
night right here doing adult things amongst the adult titles." 

I giggled at that thought – appealing as it was – and squirmed my way out 
of his grasp. "Perhaps another time," I said. 

The walk home seemed much longer than usual because of my desire to watch 
this with my big brother. But eventually, he sat on the sofa while I sat 
in his lap. The only light came from the TV screen as he picked up the 
remote to start the DVD. 

Whoever was responsible for creating this DVD had done things "properly," 
disabling the option to skip the FBI warning and the sex-line commercials. 
So we used this time to kiss and fondle. Already, I could feel the 
familiar manhood solidifying and lengthening against me, just as I was 
certain my forbidden lover could feel my nipples trying to poke holes in 
the cups of my bra. 

At last, the main menu appeared. Removing a hand from inside my thong, he 
picked up the remote again and pressed Play. 

The discovery of adult films was about to begin. I was about to 
voluntarily have another lesson which would truly shock our parents. 

The first scene was rather loving and romantic in a way. A tall, muscular 
man in swim trunks grabbed a coil of red rope from a shed and stepped back 
outside into the daylight. The camera followed him as he approached the 
house, and a tall woman – practically an Amazonian goddess – emerged from 
the back door dressed as a bride, her arms behind her. 

That was unexpected, especially for an amateur scene. She had not been 
shown in the screenshots on the box cover. 

The bride descended the steps from the porch and stood in the grass, her 
cuffed wrists finally coming into view as her arms were lifted. The camera 
focused on the man's handiwork as he slowly and carefully performed breast 
bondage on her. The red of the rope contracted sharply with the white of 
the wedding dress, and the red color clearly enhanced the swells of her 
breasts in a way that even I found appealing. Then he fondled her chest 
for a few minutes, occasionally kissing her as she kept her hands behind 
her. 

At last, he lowered her veil, took her by the hand, and led her away from 
the house. There was a trail near the house, leading into a thick region 
of trees, and he led her along the trail, the camera following them 
diligently with nary a cut. 

Just as the walk through the trees was becoming boring, I could hear the 
sound of flowing water. At first, I thought it would simply be a stream or 
small river nearby, but the sound kept increasing in volume. At last, the 
couple emerged into a clearing, and ahead of them was a waterfall spilling 
into a small lake before flowing off-screen to the right. 

The dominant led the submissive straight into the lake, even though she 
was wearing heels. I found that unbelievable, almost as insane as Timmy's 
mother in the old Lassie series wearing heels on a farm! Yet he slowed 
their pace, allowing her the time she needed to assure herself of steady 
footsteps. 

The cameraperson remained on the shore, but zoomed in on the couple as 
they made their way toward the waterfall. The sound of the falling liquid 
was fairly loud even at this distance, attesting to the powerful 
technology used in the microphone of the camera. 

Once at the waterfall, the bride was turned around, the water tumbling 
behind her. She raised her arms, and with his hands upon her chest, the 
dominant eased her backward. She shrieked initially as the water descended 
her back, its temperature apparently rather cool. Once she was pressed 
against the rock behind the waterfall, he reached into the pouring stream, 
seemed to search with his hand for something, and pulled out a chain with 
a clip at its end, surprising me again. The clip was attached to the ring 
of a cuff, then the same process was repeated to secure her other wrist to 
the cliff. 

The dominant walked away, leaving her there, bound to the cliff under a 
torrent of falling water. The camera focused upon her as she stood in 
water up to her waist. The unblinking eye roamed her body, objectifying 
her with a stereotypical masculine gaze, yet I was fascinated by the 
ropework and how it was used to enhance the now-wet look of her covered 
breasts. 

In time, the dominant returned, a long, thin stick in his hand. I was 
curious as to why he was carrying a big stick until he stood to the 
bride's side and held the stick directly in front of her chest. 

Vicariously, I "felt" every strike of the stick. It was as if the bride's 
breasts were being punished simply because she was conceived and born as a 
female. More than at any other time in my young life to date, I was 
conspicuously aware of my own breasts, and not just because my big brother 
was squeezing them as the bride's breasts were being beaten. 

She wriggled and squirmed at first, but apparently the pain of the beating 
became too much for her, for she eventually was pulling furiously against 
the chains and screaming with each strike. Above the sound of the 
waterfall, I could hear her sobs, yet the man did not relent. 

At last, he cast the stick aside, lifted the veil, and kissed her madly. 
His hands groped her, possessed her as if she were simply a coveted, 
idolized object. 

Damn, I was wet!!! 

Eventually, the bride was released, and carefully led back to the shore 
with the veil lifted, showing how badly her makeup had run from her crying 
and from the waterfall. Once on shore, the camera watched closely as the 
red rope was slowly unknotted and removed. I was somewhat horrified at the 
condition of her heels, now almost certainly ruined. The wedding dress 
might have been salvageable, but would certainly take a fair amount of 
effort to restore. 

The dominant coiled the rope and held it in one hand. Using his other hand 
to pull the bride to him, he kissed her one more time, then took her hand 
and led her back up the trail as the screen faded to black. 

"Wow, that was hot!" my big brother commented, his throbbing erection 
pressed against my leg. "I loved the way she screamed." 

I was too lost in thought to comment, but my thoughts were disrupted by 
the next scene. A short blonde woman was blindfolded and naked, tied with 
scarves to the bedposts. Countless canned candles lined the top of the 
dresser in the background of the shot while the camera remained 
stationary. A man dressed in entirely black, including a black ski mask 
and painfully-dark sunglasses, moved between dresser and bed, 
unceremoniously dumping the hot contents of each can onto her body. She 
hissed and squirmed each time, but never complained, even when he dumped 
the melted wax upon her unprotected sex. I had to admit that the way she 
moved was enticing, as were the sounds escaping her lips. 

Between the on-screen action and the in-person action of my big brother's 
fingers plunging repeatedly into me, the crotch of my thong was thoroughly 
drenched. I was horny, and I needed more than just fingers inside me. 

I do not recall the next few lengthy scenes, as I was on my back on the 
floor as my big brother made love to me. I remember the screams and the 
sound of chains rattling, and a few spoken commands, but my attention was 
focused almost totally upon person upon and inside me, the one person 
whose every command I would obey even if it meant degradation or pain for 
me. 

I was definitely quite tired in the morning when I returned to the video 
store. I was the first one there, as planned, so I immediately checked in 
the DVD and placed it back upon the shelf. Only then did I go to the drop 
box near the front door to pick up the films customers had left for us 
while we were closed. 

I was just checking in the last of the returned films when Sara arrived at 
the back door. She looked at me a little strangely when we greeted each 
other, but did not say anything else. I could only wonder:

Did I have "I watch adult films" tattooed to my forehead? 

But I had to wonder if I was any different from our other customers who 
rented the adult titles. After all, I had not seen even one-quarter of the 
DVD. If I had only seen one-quarter of a major Hollywood film, I would 
have been a little peeved. But in this case, I still felt strangely 
satisfied. 

...in more ways than one. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 08
by WFEATHER ©

Depending on our whims, sometimes my big brother and I would sleep in his 
bed, sometimes in my bed. If one of us went to bed before the other, we 
would use the bedroom of the one who went to sleep first. But regardless 
of whose bed we had shared during the night, it was always thrilling to 
awaken in the morning in my forbidden lover's presence – typically, in his 
protective arms. 

This was especially true one particular Saturday morning. We had gone to 
bed together well after midnight, after watching all three Sailor Moon 
films consecutively. That night, having drifted to sleep in my big 
brother's arms, my dream had been full of images of us dressed as Sailor 
Moon and Tuxedo Kamen, as we had been once at an anime convention a few 
years earlier. But in the dream, we were high atop a Tokyo skyscraper, 
looking out across the neon night at Tokyo Tower in the distance as he 
stood behind me, fondling me with exponentially-growing lust as I braced 
myself against the tall fence at the edge of the roof... 

Awakening in the morning, I found myself once again in my big brother's 
protective arms, my naked body pressed snugly against him underneath his 
Escher-style bedspread. The remnants of my dream not having truly been 
dispelled by full consciousness, I felt as if I was being kissed on the 
forehead by Tuxedo Kamen himself, even though part of my mind realized 
that it was my real lover's real kiss upon my real forehead that was 
stirring such real warmth in my real belly. 

It was in those awkward, disorienting, hazy moments, caught in that fuzzy 
mist between dream and consciousness, that I decided that we should again 
dress as Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen for Halloween. 

*****

Fortunately, we had decided to keep the Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen 
costumes after the anime convention, and our parents found them in the 
attic and shipped them to us. I was studying in my bedroom late one 
afternoon when my big brother returned to the apartment with an 
announcement: "They've arrived!" 

I abandoned my homework in my bedroom and found my big brother standing at 
the table in the living room, about to delve into the box with a 
pocketknife. Moments later, he pulled out my Sailor Moon costume from 
nearly two years earlier, and a sense of pride filled my chest, for I had 
made the costume almost entirely by hand. 

I knew that some alterations would be needed for both costumes. I had 
actually grown an inch in height and filled out a little more around the 
chest and hips in those two years, and he had grown nearly two inches in 
both height and waist. Clearly, I would have some work to do on the 
costumes, but I was actually looking forward to the task. 

While I worked on the alterations to the costumes, my big brother took it 
upon himself to scour our collection of anime music for a good mix of 
Sailor Moon music he could burn onto a CD so it would play on constant 
loop during the three hours the neighborhood kids would be in the building 
for the typical Halloween trick-or-treating. It was so good to hear the 
music again – songs from the series and the films, background music, 
karaoke versions of my favorite songs, and even some one-liners from both 
the Japanese and English versions of the series and films that he had 
stored on his laptop. But he still was not done, for once he had selected 
the music and one-liners and sound effects for the CD, he then spent 
several hours on a Sunday afternoon essentially blending them all together 
into a nonstop aural Sailor Moon orgy. 

*****

At last, Sunday October 30 was upon us. Halloween itself had arrived. 

The anime posters on the walls had been rearranged so that the Sailor Moon 
posters were easily visible from the doorway. The special CD my big 
brother had spent so much time creating was playing, loud enough to be 
heard from the doorway yet quiet enough to not intrude in any 
conversations. Although the volume was off, one of my favorite Sailor Moon 
episodes – the one where Usagi and Ami meet Rei – was playing on the TV 
screen via continual-repeat VideoCD playback on the DVD player. A 
recently-purchased life-size plushy Luna toy was perched upon a sofa arm, 
also in easy sight of the doorway. Thanks to eBay, two new, unused decks 
of Sailor Moon playing cards waited atop the small bookcase by the door. 
And I was already dressed as Sailor Moon, standing at the kitchen counter, 
pouring bags of Tootsie Rolls into a large bowl and trying to maintain my 
willpower (so unlike Usagi!) so that I would not devour the candies before 
the neighborhood children arrived. 

He finally stepped into the tiny kitchen. The Tootsie Rolls bags now 
empty, I simply gazed upon him fondly for a few moments as I felt his eyes 
tracking all over my body. My Tuxedo Kamen looked wonderful, even better 
than the animated version I knew so well. I only hoped that I portrayed 
Sailor Moon with equal effectiveness and allure. 

Then my big brother stepped forward, took me in his arms, and kissed my 
lips with the same tender, heartfelt affection with which Tuxedo Kamen 
kisses Sailor Moon, with a gentleness that heralded love and respect yet 
with an awesome power that vacuumed the breath from my lungs. 

We stood together in the kitchen for several minutes, kissing and hugging 
and caressing each other. I could feel the hardening within his slacks, 
and I was certain that he could feel the hardening points upon my chest. 
Yet, we kept our actions clean. 

After all, Sailor Moon was clearly intended as a "family show." 

At last, I reluctantly stepped away. "It's nearly time," I said – more as 
a breathless explanation to myself than to him – and took the candy-filled 
bowl to the bookcase. Then, as is the tenants' custom for the Halloween 
visitors, I opened the door and retreated back inside to my Tuxedo Kamen. 
The music playing at that moment from the specially-created CD was a 
karaoke version of "Moonlight Destiny," and we danced together in full 
view of anyone who might stroll past our open door, our eyes locked in the 
silent communication of longtime lovers. 

Just before the beautiful song ended, I heard the voices of several young 
children downstairs. Reluctantly, we separated, and made our way to the 
open door. Within minutes, the first group of a steady stream of children 
of all ages arrived at our door. We had our distinct roles: I gave small 
handfuls of Tootsie Rolls to the costumed children (and also to the older, 
costumed "children") and greeted them all in my very limited Japanese, 
while my Tuxedo Kamen continually shuffled the playing cards and gave one 
card to each costumed visitor. 

A few of the more anime-knowledgeable parents and older "children" seemed 
to particularly appreciate the gesture of the playing cards. Upon hearing 
the music and seeing the Sailor Moon posters, several people asked to step 
inside and look around, and seemed quite satisfied with the Sailor Moon 
theme we had established; these were almost certainly otaku, in the 
American sense of the term. 

Throughout the afternoon, we were visited by wizards and princesses, 
goblins and athletes, Stormtroopers and mice, dogs and vampires, 
presidents and scientists, and the requisite countless Disney characters. 
And, of course, there were a few other anime characters who appeared at 
our door, including Lupin, San and Ashitaka, a very convincing Armitage, 
and – quite to my surprise – the real Mimarin. By the time the parade of 
trick-or-treaters ended, I had successfully given away almost all of the 
Tootsie Rolls, and my big brother only had three Sailor Moon playing cards 
remaining: two Jokers (one with Tuxedo Kamen and one with Sailor Moon) and 
an Eight of Hearts (with the Inner Senshi in their schoolgirl personas). 

I closed the door at last, shutting out the world, and turned to see my 
sweet lover looking at the three playing cards remaining, and an idea 
formed in my mind. As the smile spread across my lips, he looked up at me, 
his eyes narrowing as my smile was mirrored upon his face. Once again, the 
fact that my big brother and I are twins was demonstrated by our similar 
thoughts. 

A few minutes later, the curtains closed, we sat at the table as I dealt 
us Poker hands using my personal, well-worn Sailor Moon playing cards, the 
very same set my big brother had given me as a birthday present several 
years earlier. I had lost track of the number of times we had played Rummy 
or Poker or especially Euchre together, almost always using these very 
same cards. I was quite certain that I would end up losing the match, as I 
seemed to never be lucky when playing Poker (not even against a computer), 
but I never minded being partially or completely naked in my twin's 
presence. 

Simply the anticipation of losing to him yet again caused my knickers to 
dampen. 

As "Moon Revenge" played in the background, I contemplated my opening 
hand. Minutes later, I was removing my shoes per my big brother's request, 
as he had won the first round. 

Luck was not usually on my side when playing Poker, but this time seemed 
to be different. Instead of losing roughly 80% of the hands, I was 
actually winning about one of every two hands. It actually appeared that I 
might still have some "dignity" remaining while my big brother sat naked 
before me. I was not at all certain if I should hope to win the match or 
hope to lose instead, but no matter the outcome, I knew that it would be 
worthwhile. 

Ultimately, we were equally vulnerable: My beautiful big brother sat 
wearing just his black briefs, while I sat wearing only my white knickers. 
I looked at my hand and was sorely disappointed: With the particular array 
of cards in my hand, I felt that I had absolutely no chance of winning the 
round and thus the match, even if I did exchange the permitted maximum of 
three cards. A quick glance at my twin revealed that he felt the same. 
Thus the question: Were his cards actually worse than mine? 

We both sat and stared at our cards for several minutes, occasionally 
glancing at each other only semi-discreetly... and I noticed with pride 
that his glances tended to linger on my exposed chest. Finally, we each 
discarded three cards, and he dealt three new cards to each of us. As I 
reviewed the possibilities, I realized that I was about to lose the match, 
and sighed in resignation. 

So much for a rare win. 

At last, we set down our hands. I set mine down first: a pair of sixes, 
with a nine, a four, and a two. 

He then set his down: a pair of sixes, with a nine, a four, and a two. 

How appropriate for fraternal twins to end up with near-identical hands. 
The only differences were the suits and their related colors... and the 
Sailor Moon image on each card. 

We both had a good long laugh at the situation. Only in a Hollywood film – 
or perhaps a really good story – should such a situation have occurred. 

Once the laughter subsided, we began to wonder aloud: Was this effectively 
a draw, or did we both just lose (or win) simultaneously? Neither of us 
were Poker experts, so after some considerable debate, we agreed it was 
only fair that we both finish disrobing together. 

But then an idea came to my mind, and I rose from my chair and approached 
my forbidden lover and knelt before him. With his help, I removed his 
final article of clothing, then spent a moment savoring the sight of his 
solid erection, my mouth watering in anticipation. But just as I was about 
to consume the meaty phallus, he grabbed my head and held me back, much to 
my extreme disappointment. "Not quite yet," he threatened, naughtiness 
clearly evident in his voice and a gleam in his eyes as he looked down 
upon me. 

"Stand." I complied, my fingers interlaced behind me, my chest thrust out 
just a little more than is usual for a standing posture to give my big 
brother quite an eyeful of his admitted favorite parts of my anatomy. But 
instead of pulling me close and sucking a nipple or pawing my breasts as I 
had expected, he slipped out of his chair and knelt before me, sniffing at 
the damp crotch of my "innocent white" knickers – such a counterpoint to my 
current activities – before carefully slipping them down my legs to the 
floor. I stepped out of them, and he held the no-longer-innocent garment 
to his nose for a moment before tossing it aside, looking up at me with a 
wicked grin. 

"Come," he said, standing and reaching for my hand. "I hope to," I 
quipped, causing us both to laugh quietly as I was led to my bedroom. When 
he stretched out upon his back on my Totoro bedspread, I knelt between his 
legs and bent forward, my knees tucked tightly against my chest. 

The meaty shaft stood proudly before me, and I licked my lips before 
flicking the bulbous tip. The clear fluid at the tip was sweet, a 
testament to the sugary diet he had been enjoying since we had started our 
college careers. My fingers surrounding the base, my tongue flicked 
lightly up and down the hearty shaft, my eyes looking up the wonderful 
male body toward my forbidden lover's face, noting his closed eyes and 
parted lips as my tongue bathed him. 

"My dearest big brother," I whispered, then I engulfed the bulbous tip 
with my mouth. He whimpered quietly as I initially took him into my mouth, 
descending just a little, raising my head, then descending just a little 
lower, raising my head, then descending just a little lower still. My 
tongue continued to tease him, my fingers gently massaging that portion of 
his tasty phallus which was not (yet) being ingested. 

"You naughty, naughty girl," I heard him whisper. I smiled in response, 
giggling around him and causing him to gasp as his hands reached for my 
head. Although he has almost always been quite gentle with me in every 
way, I somewhat expected that he would take control of my head, slamming 
my face into his groin so he could climax rapidly and fill my stomach with 
his forbidden love, and in a way, that is exactly what I wanted. Instead, 
he brushed the hair away from my face and guided me into a gentle, steady 
rhythm, a rhythm which I instantly recognized as one which would provide 
him with lasting pleasure while not being enough to force him to feed me. 

After some time, however, my jaw began to ache from being held in an open 
position for such a long time. Lifting my head from my lover's cautious 
grasp, I resorted to simply kissing and fondling his throbbing manhood, 
massaging my own saliva into the taut skin. He sighed happily, caressing 
my forearms, whispering naughty things to me and making my lips curl into 
a wicked smile. 

From simply pleasuring my big brother, my body was practically crying to 
be filled via another entrance. With one more kiss to the tip of his 
beautiful erection, I rose up to my hands and knees and slowly crawled up 
his body, keeping my torso low and my breasts brushing along his skin, my 
nipples hardening even more and practically becoming inflamed by the 
direct contact with his heated skin. Like a heat-seeking missile fixed 
upon its target, his eyes were locked with mine, his hands gliding across 
my skin as I drew ever closer to his face. 

We kissed at last: a long, slow, respectful kiss. My hands held his head 
in place, my fingers gently scratching his scalp, while his hands roamed 
my body, his fingers ultimately curling inward to scratch my fleshy 
backside. His fingers worked their way lower, seeking out my moist 
entrance and slipping inside, probing gently, carefully prying me open in 
a much more intimate and fulfilling way than any speculum ever could, 
prompting me to whimper around his exploring tongue and into his mouth. 

His hand retreated, and I whimpered into his mouth again, this time with a 
definite tone of disappointment. But I whimpered happily moments later, 
his hand having assumed a new position between us as he lovingly stroked 
my lower lips once again. I reveled in his touch as he again slipped a 
pair of fingers inside me, my clitoris resting nicely upon his hand as he 
masturbated me. 

Slowly, I rocked against the manipulating hand. My breasts pressed tightly 
to my big brother's chest, I could feel his heartbeat synchronizing with 
mine. I moved my face to his neck, beginning to pant as my passion began 
to spiral skyward, my breath hot in my face as it was reflected back to me 
by his skin. His free hand nestled in the small of my back, essentially 
anchoring me to him as his masturbation of my sex and the movement of my 
body against his hand conspired to overwhelm my senses if this continued 
for any length of time. 

This definitely continued. My hands upon his shoulders, my whimpers became 
moans became soft cries as I moved with increasing need upon my big 
brother's penetrating hand. He was also breathing somewhat loudly as the 
plunging of his fingers attempted to match the pace of my body's movements 
against his wonderful hand. 

The bed squealed in protest. My heartbeat seemed loud in my ears. The 
sloshing sounds of the violation of my body only added to the forbidden 
beauty of the moment. I moved upon this perfect lover with more force, 
more urgency, more desire, and between his labored breaths, I heard him 
whisper words of romantic naughtiness into my ear. I replied by clutching 
his head with the desperation of a drowning swimmer in a turbulent sea, 
calling not for rescue, but for more. 

He delivered. His fingers moved even faster inside me, a third finger 
joining the two already tantalizing my weeping womanhood. 

That was apparently the key, for the passion within me was suddenly 
unlocked, torrents of love gushing around him, pouring upon him as my body 
trembled with the violence of an earthquake, beautiful multicolored 
fireworks exploding against the dark sky inside my eyelids, my own voice 
nearly overpowering the thundering sound of my heartbeat in my ears. His 
manipulations never ceased, and, with barely a respite, the intensity of 
the experience doubled as a second, equally-enthralling orgasm battered my 
body, suffocating me with its power, and leaving me breathless as every 
cell vibrated with energy. 

We were two sweat-covered lovers, our lungs fighting for more air, our 
hands clutching each other tightly. We were one, sharing the same 
thoughts, the same love, in a way that only the closest of twins could 
ever know. 

It took some time for me to truly calm following the sexual storm, and I 
realized that while I had just enjoyed a wonderful pair of orgasms, my big 
brother had not yet reached his own release. Slowly, I slid off him, an 
idea in my mind. He looked up at me questioningly, but I simply gestured 
for him to remain on the bed, then I slipped out of my bedroom. 

When I returned, the expression upon his face was priceless. I had again 
donned the Sailor Moon costume, although this time I was not wearing any 
undergarments, nor socks or shoes. His eyes grew big with surprise, then 
narrowed as the implications of my dress took root in his mind. 

"So much for Sailor Moon being a 'family show,'" he mused aloud, moving to 
sit on the edge of the bed. 

"'Family show' this!" I teased with a wicked grin as I roughly squeezed my 
breasts, watching his smile widen at my sudden action. 

A new idea seized me, and I gestured for him to remain on the bed, then 
slipped out of the bedroom again. When I returned, I brought his Tuxedo 
Kamen hat and cape. Once he was wearing both, I knelt between his spread 
legs and looked up at him with another wicked grin, my hands upon his 
thighs. 

"I suppose we are about to enact those parts of Sailor Moon's and Tuxedo 
Kamen's displays of love that ended up on the cutting room floor?" my big 
brother commented, reaching down to caress my cheek and brush some stray 
strands of hair away from my face. 

I did not bother to comment. Instead, my head dipped toward his 
lengthening hardness, and I ingested him once again. After a few moments, 
I released the fleshy sword from my mouth and looked up at his beautiful 
face again. "Use me," I pleaded softly with a wink, then took a deep 
breath and dipped my head to ingest the meaty phallus once more. 


Slowly, his hands gripping either side of my skull, my big brother forced 
me to take more and more of his hearty length into my mouth. When his tip 
reached the top of my throat, he held me still for several seconds as my 
tongue slithered around his manhood, then slowly nudged me away until 
there was no longer any contact with my mouth. I looked up at him, my 
hands still on his thighs, and my heart nearly melted from the love and 
affection in his eyes, the same eyes which silently asked if I really 
wanted him to use me. I smiled and nodded my assent, and took another deep 
breath. 

We continued like this, my forbidden lover controlling the movement of my 
head, slowly increasing the rhythm and holding my head in place longer 
before allowing me to surface for air. In my mind's eye, I pictured Sailor 
Moon and Tuxedo Kamen in this very same situation, on a stage, clearly the 
center of attention as the rest of the Inner and Outer Senshi paired off, 
dividing their attention between each other and the leading couple at the 
center of the bright spotlight. 

A very male voice groaned softly between heavy breaths as I was being 
truly facefucked. The sloshing sounds were unmistakable as my own drool 
spilled from my lips and began the descent to the carpeted floor. I 
gripped his thighs tightly, grunting myself during this rough treatment. 
My body began to drip again, aroused at this disrespectful handling at the 
hands of this particular individual. 

A loud groan announced that my lover was very close to climax. He no 
longer held himself inside my mouth; he forced my head forward and 
backward, changing direction with such speed that I felt the early stages 
of a headache in my forehead. 

A louder groan from above reminded me of the thunder of an approaching 
storm, gradually increasing in volume as the storm advanced. There will 
certainly be a storm, I thought. His love will fall upon me as his voice 
thunders in my ears! 

He suddenly held my head still, my mouth enveloping his throbbing 
hardness. My tongue instantly went to work even as my lungs burned, 
protesting the lengthening lack of air. His voice caught several times; it 
almost sounded as if he was being strangled. Then he shoved my head away, 
knocking me back on my heels. 

I gasped loudly, my chest heaving rapidly as air once again filled my 
lungs. I opened my eyes in time to see him standing before me, his fist 
pumping his manhood rapidly, aiming directly at my face. I closed my eyes, 
opened my mouth as wide as I possibly could, and leaned closer to him, my 
hands wrapped around his legs once again. 

The first jet of warm passion hit me directly above the right eye, the 
second landed directly in my awaiting mouth. After that, I was no longer 
paying attention; my ears were focused upon the triumphant sound of his 
voice, my nose was trained upon the scent of forbidden love in my bedroom, 
and my heart had grown to such a size in my chest that I felt it would 
burst through bone and muscle and skin and clothing at any moment so that 
it could be directly bathed in passion from the man erupting before me. 

Eventually, my forbidden lover dropped to his knees before me, hugging me 
tightly. I had anointed him earlier with my passion, and now he had done 
the same with me. We simply held each other for a long time, even long 
after we had calmed ourselves following the intimate end of the Halloween 
festivities. 

...yet we were still in costume, although I was wearing more than him. 

At last, we stood. His hands on my shoulders, my big brother held me at 
arms' length, looking me over with an observant eye. "I never knew that 
Sailor Moon could be such a slut," he quipped. We laughed together as he 
held me close again, and I idly wondered: Will we wear the Sailor Moon and 
Tuxedo Kamen costumes much more often? 

Despite being a Saturday morning, I was awake fairly early. I made coffee 
and ate a pair of bagels for breakfast as I watched MSNBC, then prepared 
for the special guest lecture I wanted to attend that morning. 

Looking at my watch, I realized that I would be well over an hour early 
for the lecture if I left at that moment. While I could certainly have 
left anyhow and simply read a book or magazine while waiting for the 
lecture hall to open, my devious mind turned to my twin brother sleeping 
in my bed, and I felt a stirring at the base of my torso. 

Quietly, I slipped back into my bedroom to find my forbidden lover still 
asleep underneath my large Totoro bedspread. I stood in the doorway and 
looked at him with awe and admiration for a moment, then finally 
approached the bed. I took a moment to slip off my shoes, then pulled back 
the bedspread to reveal his birthday suit. In his sleep, he instinctively 
reached downward for something to cover him again, but found only my head 
as I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned toward his groin. 

Before long, I had him quite aroused, to the point where I was able to 
straddle him. He was finally awake at last, a sleepy smile upon his face, 
and I looked down fondly into the identical eyes as I pulled my skirt up 
around my waist and pulled aside the crotch of my thong, then impaled 
myself upon his fleshy sword. There was no slow teasing, no romance in our 
joining; instead, with my hands upon his chest, I rode him hard, rapidly, 
forcefully. This was definitely just a quickie, and even though I never 
actually reached climax myself, simply feeling my lover's seed firing deep 
into my body was pleasure enough for me. 

I left quickly after that, purposely leaving him wondering what that was 
all about. I was still smiling to myself as I locked the door to our 
apartment; my heart rate was still high, and I still felt heady and 
slightly flushed. 

The BART station was just a few blocks away. As I walked toward the 
station, I was quite aware of my big brother's love spilling from my torso 
to anoint my thong. I smiled again to myself as I crossed the final 
intersection, wondering what he thought of my waking him with a quickie 
just before sprinting off to campus. 

As I stood on the train platform, I was a little surprised at the number 
of people also waiting for the next train this early on a Saturday 
morning. I recognized a few people from the neighborhood, but I kept to 
myself, standing near the back wall with my backpack on one shoulder, as 
usual, and a dampening thong, which thrilled me immensely. 

At last, the announcement was made that the train was about to arrive. 
Like the others on the platform, I made my way toward the track and picked 
out a set of door markings, waiting at the end of the short line which had 
formed there. The rush of air as the train entered the station caused my 
skirt to flutter rapidly against my thighs. 

Few people stepped out of the train, causing a net gain of passengers once 
those of us waiting on the platform had boarded. I did not see anywhere to 
sit where I would be by myself, so I stood near the door, holding the rail 
to balance myself as the doors finally closed and the train began to move. 


It just happened that I was standing next to a seeing-eye dog sitting at 
the feet of a blind woman. With the large dark glasses covering her eyes, 
it was clear that she was not just legally blind, but completely unable to 
see anything. She sat with a friend and they chatted quietly as she held 
the dog's harness. I tried to imagine what my life would be like if I was 
completely unable to see anything, but I simply could not fathom that 
situation. 

My mind wandered. I thought of the anime DVDs I had won from an eBay 
auction, and tried to anticipate when they would arrive. The next week's 
math exam was a bit of a concern for me, as math had never been a favorite 
subject for me. I had to work at the video store that night, which meant 
an extra quarter of pay per hour since it was a Saturday closing shift; I 
would not return home until well after midnight. 

I happened to glance down at the dog again. He (I assumed it was a male 
dog) looked up at me with large brown eyes, visibly sniffing in my 
direction. I smiled at him and wanted to reach down to pet him, but I knew 
that he was on duty, not simply out for a morning outing with his owner. 

My thoughts wandered again, then returned to the present as the 
announcement was made for the next stop. A few seconds later, the train 
began to slow, and I looked down at the dog once again. His nose was very 
visibly working overtime, sniffing in my direction. 

Could he truly smell the passion filling the crotch of my thong? That 
thought made me feel a little warmer, and I realized that I was blushing – 
just slightly, but likely enough for anyone looking directly at me to 
notice. A quick glance at the others around me revealed, much to my 
relief, that none of them were looking at me; in fact, almost everyone was 
either speaking with a friend or busy reading a book or magazine or 
newspaper. 

Still, I had to get away from this dog. His nose continued to sniff in my 
direction, embarrassing me greatly. I waited until the train came to a 
complete stop and spotted a small group of teenagers about to vacate a 
pair of seats a few yards away. I made my way in that direction, taking 
one of the seats as soon as the group had vacated them. I sat with my 
thighs clamped tightly together, my backpack in my lap, and hoped that the 
dog would essentially "forget" me. 

But when I glanced back at the dog, he was still looking at me, his steady 
brown gaze broken only by the legs of passengers now boarding the train. I 
turned to the window beside me, the dark background of a billboard 
advertisement just a few feet away from me allowing me to see my 
reflection in the window. My cheeks did seem slightly reddened, and I did 
still feel a little warm. 

Closing my eyes did not help the situation much. I could still feel my 
lover sheathed within me, feel his anatomy swell slightly and then erupt 
inside me. 

I could feel even more of his passion anointing my thong. 

The doors closed and the train began to move once more. I wondered what my 
big brother was doing, what he was thinking, at that very moment. Did he 
realize that I was effectively "wearing" his seed? Did he know that just 
that simple fact made me feel like a cheap slut even as I carried a creamy 
reminder of his love between my legs? Did he realize that others – human 
or otherwise – were aware that I had ridden him just before I left our 
apartment? Did he consider that a dog could cause me so much 
embarrassment? 

The next stop was announced, and soon the train slowed once more. I looked 
at the dog again, but he was looking up at his owner now – much to my 
relief. Her friend helped her to stand as the train pulled into the next 
station, and the dog rose to his feet. I let out a sigh of relief that I 
did not realize I was holding, thankful that the dog would embarrass me no 
more. 

But then, just before the dog and the friends stepped off the train and 
onto the platform, he turned and looked at me one last time. I wanted to 
crawl underneath the seat and hide, such was the embarrassment I felt, 
inexplicable as it was. 

Shortly after lunchtime, I finally returned to the apartment to find my 
fraternal twin at the desk in his bedroom, scrawling notes as he read from 
a thick textbook. I slipped off my thong, then entered his bedroom. After 
a quick kiss to his cheek, I held the thong to his nose, ensuring that he 
inhaled the scent which remained from our morning quickie. 

"That is the scent of passion," I said matter-of-factly, "and of all 
things, a dog now knows just how much you love me. That was without 
question one of the most humiliating events I have ever experienced!!!" 

And with that, I left his bedroom, leaving my big brother holding my thong 
and certainly wondering how a dog could possibly have embarrassed me so 
deeply. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 10
by WFEATHER ©

It seems that most guys absolutely love to see a beautiful girl wearing a 
thong, and given his reaction whenever I wore a thong, my big brother was 
certainly no different. So that spawned an idea in my head... 

It happened that on a Thursday, my two morning classes were cancelled: one 
professor was out sick all week with Chicken Pox, and another was headed 
for a conference presentation in Milwaukee. I still got up with my big 
brother that morning, and I eagerly took on the "dutiful wife" role and 
fixed breakfast for him, since he was the one going off to "work." 

As he ate, I went to my bedroom and selected an outfit worthy of my 
surprise for him: platform heels, mini-skirt, thong, and halter top, all 
in black. Then I returned to the living room to find him gone; from the 
sounds, he was still in the bathroom, preparing for the day. 

Fortunately, my plan worked well in terms of timing, as he was ready to 
leave about ten minutes earlier than usual. For me, that was absolutely 
perfect. 

"Hey," I said softly, stepping into his bedroom. He looked up from putting 
a book into his backpack, and gazed upon me appreciatively. I twirled 
around, my short skirt flaring up and giving him a brief flash of my ass, 
the thong covering just enough to keep me legal if I were to step out on 
our narrow balcony. 

"Planning on breaking hearts while I'm in class this morning?" my 
forbidden lover asked with a teasing smile. 

"Actually," I replied, "I was planning on getting fucked before you leave. 
You have a few minutes, right?" 

"Well, it certainly beats standing around on the BART platform for ten 
minutes or so." 

I turned toward the nearest wall, standing as if I was about to be frisked 
by a police officer. My fraternal twin noticed my stance and immediately 
fell into the appropriate role, patting me down as if he actually was a 
police officer frisking a suspected criminal. I kept smiling to myself as 
he touched me – clearly a bit rougher than how an actual officer would 
frisk a suspect, but I definitely did not mind, especially when his hands 
lingered at my chest for a few moments. 

He finally reached a hand up my skirt to cup my sex, and by then the 
crotch of my thong was already dampening. "I see a cavity search is in 
order here," my big brother said in a mock-threatening tone. I heard him 
unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, and I decided to change my role a 
bit. 

"Please, officer, no! I'll be a good girl from now on! I'll obey all the 
laws! Please...!!!" 

"Your body must be searched to find out what you're leaking and why!" 

The familiar phallus was already fully erect, which did not surprise me at 
all. He pulled aside the damp crotch of my thong and placed the tip of his 
hearty manhood at the entrance to my core. 

"Please! Stop!! Please!!!" 

I yelped as he shoved himself high up inside my body in a single thrust. 
Despite all the sex we had enjoyed almost daily since moving to Berkeley, 
it still hurt a little to have him impale me so fully, so quickly. 

"Keep your hands on the wall, you damn criminal!" my forbidden lover 
growled into my ear, then he began to truly fuck me. Very quickly, we were 
both gasping, grunting, practically growling in primal lust. He brought a 
hand to my chest, gripping a breast fiercely, somewhat painfully. 

My big brother dropped his other hand down the front of my skirt and 
inside my thong, toying with my clitoris, unlocking the explosion of 
passion deep within me. I wailed unabashedly and felt his own explosion 
within me seconds later as he held my aching breast with a death grip, his 
breath loudly catching against my ear. 

When at last I was released, I slid down the wall to my knees, still 
gasping loudly as I heard my big brother redress himself, and I took that 
opportunity to ensure the crotch of my thong was in its proper place. 
"I've gotta go," he said, still breathing a bit quickly himself. "That 
certainly gave me something nice to think about on the way to class!" He 
tussled my hair briefly, then left for class. 

Several minutes later, I finally rose to my feet. I went about my morning, 
cleaning the apartment, washing the dishes, and doing a little studying 
myself. 

At last, I figured my surprise was ready. When we had moved into the 
apartment, our father had stopped briefly in a Radio Shack and picked up a 
small package of adhesive cable clips, to better organize the various 
cables and cords behind the desks and the entertainment center. There were 
still a few of those cable clips left in the toolbox we kept underneath 
the kitchen sink, which was just perfect for my surprise. 

*****

When I returned from my afternoon class, my forbidden lover was gone. I 
looked around the apartment, and there was no sign that he had ever been 
there since the morning. That disappointed me a little, but that also 
meant that he had yet to discover my surprise for him. 

After changing into well-worn gray sweatpants and my hole-pocked black 
Burn-Up! t-shirt, I sat on the sofa, flipping through the various cable 
channels, trying to find something interesting to watch for a while but 
not finding anything to suit my mood. Not long afterward, I heard the key 
in the door, and knew that my big brother had finally returned. 

He did not go to his bedroom right away. Instead, he sat with me on the 
sofa, holding me close as we half-watched some early-1980s music videos. 
We chatted quietly about everything and nothing, simply enjoying each 
other's company more than anything else. 

"We have some leftover spaghetti," I finally offered. "Is that fine for 
dinner? That and some salad?" 

"I think I'd rather eat you," he replied with a smile, "but spaghetti and 
salad sounds good as well." 

I kissed my big brother's cheek as I stroked his chest. "You can eat me 
for dessert," I promised him with a wink and a wicked grin. 

After a few more minutes of mutual admiration, I extricated myself from 
his protective hold and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. I heard him 
head toward his bedroom a moment later, and smiled to myself, waiting as I 
worked. 

Just as I retrieved the spaghetti from the microwave, my big brother 
appeared in the kitchen, holding the very black thong which had collected 
our combined love earlier in the day. "You naughty, naughty girl!" he 
sneered. 

"I'm naughty!?!" I countered. "You're the one holding some girl's used 
underwear!!!" 

"Perhaps," he retaliated, "but I assume that you're the one who posted 
this sex-scented thong on the wall by my desk!!!" 

We both laughed at that as I served the spaghetti onto two plates. "I 
thought you'd enjoy the surprise." 

"I do," he assured me, "but I'd never would have thought of mounting a 
used thong on a wall just like a hunting trophy!" 


Twins in College Ch. 11
by WFEATHER ©

After the volleyball match, I showered and changed in the locker room, 
then purposely went upstairs in the gymnasium building, coming down the 
bleachers from behind my big brother to purposely surprise him. "Enjoying 
the scenery?" I asked as I stood directly behind him. 

He turned around quickly, his eyes first aimed directly at my crotch since 
I was standing, before he looked up my body and finally met my gaze. "You 
sneak!" he teased with a grin. 

I ruffled his hair briefly, then sat next to him, my smelly clothes in my 
backpack as it hung on one shoulder. "Shall we go back home," I asked, "or 
would you prefer to sit here and watch the scenery a while?" 

He knew exactly what I meant by "the scenery." While the intramural 
volleyball league was officially coed, I knew instinctively, without even 
looking at his eyes, that he was primarily watching the one all-female 
team on the near court. 

"Let's watch the rest of this match here," he suggested, nodding toward 
the near court. "These two teams are really quite evenly matched." 

He was right. Volleys would last at least three minutes on average: dig, 
set, spike, dig, set, spike, bump, set, spike, dig, set, spike... It was 
also interesting that the all-female team was playing a team with five 
girls and one guy, so my big brother had plenty of eye candy before him. 

I had seen plenty of volleyball in my life, and watched countless women 
and girls play the game. But as I sat beside my fraternal twin, I began to 
see the scene through his eyes. I knew that he appreciated that athletic 
display before him, but I also knew that a growing portion of his brain 
was focusing upon the female players, and that caused me to begin to focus 
upon them more and more as well. For the very first time, I truly "saw" 
them: the bouncing of their breasts, the swishing of their hair across 
their shoulders and upper backs, the outlines of their sports bras 
underneath their thin t-shirts, the graceful dips at their waists and the 
noticeable flares at their hips... 

Granted, I had admired my own body plenty of times in a mirror, and I was 
honestly proud of my body and its proportions as well as its ability to 
attract the admiring eyes of people of both sexes. As a very sexual person 
myself, especially since we had moved to California to live on our own 
while attending different colleges, I knew that my big brother enjoyed 
pleasing my body, just as much as he enjoyed using my body for his own 
pleasure. 

I looked at my big brother for a moment between volleys, and tracked his 
gaze to a short Asian girl who was about to serve. The volleyball high in 
the air, her arm pulled back and her palm open ready to send the ball 
arcing over the tall net, I noted how the swells upon her chest caused her 
white t-shirt to bulge outward, leaving a noticeable gap between cotton 
(or whatever material had been used to make her shirt) and navel. With her 
back arched, her ponytail hung downward, the red ribbon at its end 
attracting the eye. Her short blue shorts revealed plenty of well-toned 
thigh. 

"Put your eyes back in your head," I teased my big brother once she had 
served the volleyball into the net. He punched me playfully in the arm, 
just enough to sting a little. 

"Let's go," he suggested. "Let's get back home before it gets too late." 

"Good idea." We stood and made our way to the top of the bleachers, and 
then I stopped, not sensing my big brother's presence directly behind me. 
I turned around and saw him standing, looking fondly down upon the 
all-female team once again for a moment before he returned to me. 

"Don't worry," I assured him, "you can see plenty of the female body once 
you get home!" 

He grinned widely at that. "Careful," he warned, "I may just hold you to 
it!!!" 

We stepped out into the wide corridor, practically devoid of people. "I'd 
just settle for you holding me," I whispered nonetheless, and his smile 
widened. 

*****

We sat on the sofa, holding each other close in the darkness, both of us 
completely nude, our combined passion still trickling from my body. We 
were both quiet for a long time, simply enjoying the silence. 

"Just so you know," my big brother finally whispered into my ear, "I may 
notice other girls, but you are really the only one I want in my life." 

I smiled into his neck. "I know," I replied softly, "and that's why I can 
tease you when your eyes do stray a bit." 

He kissed my cheek. "Thanks for understanding," he whispered, stroking the 
back of my head. "No wonder I love my baby sister so much." 

I kissed the forbidden lips, feeling quite superior to the many girls he 
had been admiring so openly at the gymnasium. After all, they may have 
attracted his eyes, but I had attracted his heart. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 12
by WFEATHER ©

I awoke to my big brother's mouth upon mine, a hand upon my chest. My lips 
were moving against his even before I was truly conscious again. 

"Hello, beautiful," he finally whispered, looking down into my eyes. 
"Welcome to the day." 

I pulled him down for a long, heartfelt hug. The feel of his arms around 
me, the feel of his weight pressing me down into his bed, the feeling of 
love surrounding us both, they all combined to create a wonderful morning. 
The fact that this was a Sunday morning made it even better: no classes 
and no jobs, so we could remain in bed for a long time, simply enjoying 
each other's company. 

That is exactly what we did for several hours. We caressed and kissed and 
fondled and hugged. We chatted about everything and nothing. We gazed at 
each other in reverent silence. The outside world effectively no longer 
existed for us. 

At last, we decided to start the day... officially. After a playful shower 
together, we dressed each other, then headed toward one of our favorite 
restaurants: La Note. 

As usual, there was a semi-long wait to be seated. Once we registered for 
seating, my forbidden lover and I stood in the sun on the sidewalk, 
chatting quietly amongst ourselves, paying little attention to anyone else 
around us yet keeping an ear tuned for our names to be called. 

"I think he likes you," my big brother said softly, his words hitting me 
completely out of the blue as they had nothing to do with our chat about 
our plans to visit Alcatraz. 

I glanced around, and indeed, there was some guy semi-discreetly looking 
at me. Actually, I quickly realized, he was looking at us. "Is there 
something wrong with a brother and sister going to a restaurant together?" 
I wanted to challenge him, but I instantly thought better of that tactic 
and continued the Alcatraz discussion, occasionally glancing back toward 
the watcher. 

We were eventually called, and we went in, sitting near the back of the 
restaurant. I sat facing the large front window, eagerly anticipating the 
first taste of the French Roast coffee. We chatted, ordered, chatted, and 
we both went silent when the coffee was delivered, each of us savoring the 
taste. 

"He's looking again," I announced. 

"Who?" 

"The guy who was watching us outside. He's sitting near the window, in the 
corner opposite the door, at the table by the piano. It looks like he's 
with a roommate or friend or something, but clearly not paying attention 
to what his friend is saying." 

"Am I going to have to go pick a fight with him to defend your honor?" my 
big brother quipped. 

I laughed at that, despite knowing fully well that he actually would pick 
a fight with someone who threatened me in even the slightest way. "At 
least wait until after brunch, okay? It does no good to fight on an empty 
stomach." 

We settled back into our everyday sibling banter again, although 
throughout our meal, my eyes kept drifting toward that corner, and I kept 
noticing how the guy was looking at us. The expression upon his face was 
one of puzzlement, of wonder. 

"Do you think he suspects something?" I finally offered, trying to find a 
justification for anyone to look at a complete stranger for so long. 

"Perhaps. Were we standing too close or something when we were outside 
waiting to be seated?" 

"I don't think so..." 

I tried to let the situation go, to free my mind and focus on my forbidden 
lover and our conversation, yet that guy continued to lurk at the back of 
my mind, like an itch that would not go away even once the area had been 
scratched completely raw. 

"Time to get back home," my big brother finally announced, the excellent 
meal finished at last and the check paid. "I have a bit of research to do 
online to prepare for library research this week." 

I nodded. Not knowing what came over me, I slid my ankle along his leg – 
not very far, just enough to be romantic yet innocent enough to be a 
simple "accident" given the little amount of legroom available underneath 
the small table. But as soon as I made contact with the very-familiar leg, 
I could feel the guy's eyes upon me again – specifically upon me – and 
felt as if my skin was crawling. 

"Let's go," I said. "The sooner, the better." 

We made our way back to the apartment complex, meandering instead of 
taking a more direct route from the bus stop. Only once we were safely 
inside our apartment with the door closed and locked did I finally feel at 
ease. 

"What's wrong?" my big brother asked. "You've seemed uptight almost since 
we walked into La Note today." 

I released the sigh I had been holding back for quite some time. "That guy 
just creeped me out, that's all." Leaning into him, my big brother wrapped 
his arms around me. "I feel much better now, much safer." 

Even without looking up at his face, I could sense the change in my 
forbidden lover's personality. "I really should have picked a fight with 
him," he mumbled to himself. 

"I doubt that would have solved anything in this case," I said into his 
shoulder, sighing again. "Just hold me, okay?" 

"No complaints here." 

We stood there for a long, long time, neither of us speaking, the strong, 
loving grasp comforting me greatly. It was exactly what I needed. 

*****

Straddling my chest, my big brother bathed my face with his white-hot 
love, his soft grunts thrilling my ears. 

"Thanks for the study break," he said, kissing my forehead before leaving 
my bedroom. I smiled to myself as I watched his bare behind passing 
through the doorway. 

I laid on the bed for a while, the illicit seed drying upon my face. I 
needed to do some studying myself, but I just was not in the mood to open 
my textbooks, so I decided to go out for a walk around the neighborhood 
instead, not bothering to wash my face first. 

I came upon the small park and watched as a group of people practiced 
martial arts maneuvers I had never seen before. Several of them faced away 
from me, and as I walked slowly around the edge of the park, I recognized 
one of them... 

...as the guy who was continually looking at me in La Note. 

I do not believe he actually saw me this time, as he seemed quite involved 
with the practice. In his white outfit, he looked quite appealing, but the 
fact that the same person who had creeped me out earlier in the day was in 
this very park was almost as creepy as the looks he had given me earlier. 

Quickly yet politely, I made my way to the nearest intersection and 
disappeared around the corner of the small house there. Had he seen me? 
Had he seen the dried, cracked remains of my big brother's forbidden love 
upon my face? 

I very nearly ran back to the apartment complex, but was somehow able to 
keep my pace reduced to simply a brisk walk. My mind, on the other hand, 
was racing as fast as a military jet at full throttle. 

*****

I dreamed that my forbidden lover and I sat on a grassy shore of a vast 
lake, watching the moon slowly rise above the tree line of the opposite 
shore. I sat between his spread legs, leaning back against his chest as 
his fingers were intertwined against my stomach. It was a clear, calm, 
peaceful night, the only sounds those of the crickets and the gentle 
lapping of the waves against the shoreline. He would occasionally kiss the 
top of my head, or allow a hand to dip into the front of my bikini thong 
and his fingers to briefly slip inside me, but it was otherwise a very 
relaxing scene. 

Then a twig could be heard breaking nearby. I turned my head toward the 
sound, and saw a dark shadow appear at the edge of the clearing. As the 
person stepped out of the shadow of the trees, I saw the all-white attire 
and knew exactly who it was...

It was the very same person who had been looking at me continually at La 
Note. 

"So it's true," he said softly as he approached. "It's just as I 
suspected. You truly are an incestuous couple." 

My big brother apparently did not hear the accusation, nor did he even 
seem to see the guy approaching us. 

"That's just so wrong," the stranger continued. "Does he fuck you as well? 
Actually, he must, because I saw your cum-soaked face today in the park. 
Until I saw that, I was actually considering trying to somehow approach 
you and ask you out, but now I see that you're just dirty, in the worst 
way possible, a worthless bitch who can only find love in the worst of 
places: her own brother! May the shame haunt you to eternity and 
beyond!!!" 

With that, he turned and stalked back toward the trees, disappearing into 
the shadows. 

I woke up crying in my forbidden lover's protective arms, feeling his 
caring embrace while the final words of my dream repeatedly echoed inside 
my skull. 

*****

"Are you sure you're okay?" 

I nodded and tried to smile, then gave my big brother a kiss on the cheek 
before we left the apartment. "I guess I'm just feeling more emotional 
than usual right now," I said cryptically, hoping he would simply 
attribute my recent actions as being due to "girl issues." "Let's go." 

It was a Monday morning, which meant a return to the routine of classes. 
Somehow, each step away from the apartment complex made me feel better and 
better. By the time we reached the BART station, I felt like my usual 
cheery, smiling, joking self. I was with the one person most important to 
me, laughing and chatting and oblivious to anyone else around us. Yet, my 
subconscious mind kept raising one issue again and again and again: 

May I never see that guy ever again!!! 

 
Twins in College Ch. 13
by WFEATHER ©

"Sorry, Dad," I said, "but I really need to stay here for Thanksgiving and 
help out at the video store." 

"Okay," he said through the phone. The letdown was clearly evident in his 
voice. "I understand, although I know your mother will be disappointed. 
But I'll soften the blow for you somehow. What about your brother?" 

"Actually, he was planning to stay as well," I replied. "He's got a major 
paper due at the end of the semester, so this is a good time for him to 
focus on research, plus he doesn't really want me here by myself for 
Thanksgiving Break, which I guess I can understand." 

*****

Weeks later, Thanksgiving had finally arrived. Yes, my big brother had 
research to do during Thanksgiving Break. Yes, he did not really want me 
to be here on my own while the rest of the family would have otherwise 
been together. Yes, I had planned on putting in a significant amount of 
time at the video store, primarily picking up closing shifts. 

Yes, we both wanted to have one day entirely to ourselves. In fact, almost 
everyone in the building was gone, headed to various places across the 
country to spend Thanksgiving with family or with a friend's family, and 
since we lived in what was largely a student neighborhood and thus 
virtually everyone for blocks around was gone, we were very much alone. 

That was exactly what we wanted. 

I awoke first that morning. No classes, no job, and purposely no homework 
or research to mar the day. I awoke in my big brother's arms as usual, 
feeling protected and loved and cherished, with my nude body pressed 
snugly against his underneath the covers. After a gentle kiss to his 
cheek, I rested my head upon the pillow and closed my eyes, inhaling my 
big brother's natural scent. 

I thought of the day ahead. The only true plan we had was dinner, plus our 
parents would almost certainly call sometime during the day. Other than 
that, we had plenty of DVDs we could watch, we had a small collection of 
games we could play on the PS2, or we could take a leisurely stroll around 
the neighborhood. 

Or, of course, we could spend the day loving each other, engaged in a 
sexathon. I had read more than a few erotic tales online of lengthy 
sexathons, and had fantasized about it for several weeks, but certainly 
had no expectations that it would happen today, especially not with the 
likelihood of our parents calling at some point during the day. 

My mind drifted. I imagined my forbidden lover cloned multiple times, 
multiple horny "copies" of him surrounding me, all of them spewing their 
illicit love upon me while I was on my back across a table, another copy 
rutting violently into me while my head tipped backward off the opposite 
edge of the table and another forbidden phallus filled my throat and my 
hands squeezed and pumped other identical manhoods. 

A soft moan brought me back to reality, and I realized that there was 
indeed a manhood in my hand. I gently stroked my big brother's sex, 
reveling in the lengthening and the hardening, taking great pride in 
knowing that I was the cause of his arousal. He still seemed to be asleep, 
however, which was particularly thrilling to me. 

I stroked his head as I stroked his sex, and he whimpered again. He had 
already almost reached his full length and hardness, but seemed to be lost 
in that hazy phase between sleep and consciousness. His lips moved, and I 
thought he was lipping my name, but I was not certain. 

My big brother's arms tightened around me, yet he still did not seem to be 
fully aware of what was happening. I hugged him close with my free arm 
while I continued to stroke him, my ears finely tuned to his breathing, 
which was becoming a little more ragged by the minute, as he moved against 
my hand. 

"Vicki!" he suddenly gasped, and my heart nearly burst from the 
overflowing love at hearing my name in this particular moment. Even though 
he was "stuck" between sleep and consciousness, I still filled his every 
thought – could there possibly be any greater evidence of his love for me? 
I rolled him back to his back, kissing him fiercely as I rolled upon him. 
Something took over my body, and I began furiously humping his hot sex, my 
own sex dripping upon him as he groped me, fully awake now as our kisses 
continued to spiral skyward in intensity. 

I swallowed his groans, and I knew that he was about to erupt between us. 
Lifting myself up on my arms, I quickly found the perfect angle to rub 
back and forth along the illicit manhood while also pleasuring my own 
clitoris. My big brother's hands gripped my ass, driving me back and forth 
with even more power as his face contorted with need. 

Underneath the thick layer of covers, we had already generated so much 
heat that we were both sweating, further enhancing the intimacy of the 
moment. I was panting unabashedly, trying to hold back my approaching 
orgasm as I wanted this moment to actually be all about my big brother, 
not about me. 

But I did not need to hold back for very long. With a short primal cry, I 
felt his fingers burrowing into my lower cheeks roughly as he held me 
still upon him. Then his voice caught, and he did not breathe for nearly a 
full second before I heard him wheeze and gasp again. I knew that his 
white-hot love had been spilled upon his front, even though I could not 
see it from the position of my body. 

Even as he was still shuddering from the aftershocks of his 
sister-inspired orgasm, I pulled back the covers and slid between his 
legs. Brushing my hair out of the way, I took the meaty phallus into my 
mouth, feeling my big brother lurch at the feel of my mouth surrounding 
the bulbous head. His fingers toyed in my hair as my tongue worked slowly, 
gently, caressing him as the erection slowly faded. Only then did I 
finally release him from my hot mouth and start cleaning the spilled 
contents from his stomach and chest with my own tongue. 

In my admittedly-biased opinion, it was a most excellent breakfast. 

*****

Our parents called as we made dinner together: a small turkey, stuffing, 
mashed potatoes, and salad. We ate while watching football, then put away 
the leftovers and went out for a leisurely stroll through the 
neighborhood. 

Although virtually everyone was clearly gone, I resisted the temptation to 
link my arm with his. I had read a story online once about a guy who had 
met a girl in a club and she was taking him back to her apartment, her 
hands wrapped around his arm in a manner that constantly pressed his arm 
against her breast. I wanted to do that: I wanted to feel my big brother's 
touch upon a socially-unacceptable area of my body even as we walked along 
the empty public streets. But I knew deep down that I could never have 
that, that as soon as we made such forbidden contact in public, our love 
would be doomed, our lives changed for the worse as we were "outed." 

Each of us with our hands in the pockets of our jackets, we walked along, 
chatting quietly, sharing jokes, sharing dreams, sharing memories. We did 
see one other couple as we walked, a pair of senior citizens on the other 
side of the street, their decades-long love evident in the way they 
walked, their grip as they held hands, the regularity with which they 
looked into each other's eyes. 

That was denied us, and it always would be denied us – at least, it would 
be in public. I thought of the repeatedly-shown clip of Tom Cruise jumping 
up and down on Oprah's couch, proclaiming his love for Katie Holmes. While 
that had been a most excessive expression of love for someone, I also 
wanted to be able to show the world that I loved someone. For some reason, 
it was important to me to be able to publicly proclaim to the world that 
my big brother was the one who had captured my heart. 

For some reason, a thought came to mind. There are a number of "Property 
of..." t-shirts, typically related to a sports team. For just a second, I 
tried to imagine myself with a "Property of..." tattoo, perhaps on my arm 
just below my left shoulder so it would be visible whenever I wore a 
sleeveless top, indicating the I belong to my big brother. That thought 
excited me, but I also knew that it, too, was unrealistic, and that notion 
saddened me. 

"You're rather quiet all of a sudden," my forbidden lover said, purposely 
nudging my arm with his. 

Quietly, slowly, I explained my thoughts to him. He never said a word, but 
it was not necessary. I just sensed that he understood my concerns 
completely. 

Our heartfelt conversation finally reached its natural end as we 
approached the apartment complex. I looked up at our narrow balcony, 
thinking of all the memories we had already created within our apartment. 
While we were not free to share our love publicly, within that apartment, 
we created the world and its parameters, only allowing outside concerns to 
penetrate our world whenever we turned on the TV or spoke by phone with 
family or friends. 

When we finally stepped back into our world and closed the door to seal 
away the outside concerns, my previous distress began to melt away. Yet 
before I could even unzip my jacket, my big brother stood before me, 
hugging me tightly, and that perpetuated the melting process. 

"Thank you," I whispered simply, clutching him fiercely. "Thank you, big 
brother." 

Thanksgiving is a time to think about and be thankful for all the good 
things that have happened in our lives. What I was most thankful for was 
that hug. That one simple act may have been something "strange" or 
"unusual" for which one should be thankful, but the history behind that 
hug was what made such a simple act so significant in my life. 

That night, with tall pillar candles burning throughout the living room 
and soft, slow jazz music playing on the radio, my big brother and I spent 
a long time giving thanks to each other, but without words. We traded 
lengthy oily massages and alternated with short interludes of lovemaking 
designed to slowly arouse each other before returning to the massages. And 
when we finally reached a blissful, simultaneous climax sometime around 
midnight, I was so touched by the intimacy of my big brother's love and 
understanding and admiration and respect that I cried openly, simply 
whispering "Thank you" over and over again as he kissed away my tears of 
joy and love. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 14
by WFEATHER ©

It was a nice, leisurely afternoon of shopping with my big brother. We 
bought holiday gifts for our parents and a few other relatives, and – most 
importantly to us – we bought our first holiday tree, along with the 
appropriate decorations for it. 

It was an artificial tree, about six feet tall including the base. 
Fortunately, it came in a smaller-than-expected box with a built-in 
plastic handle, so I could carry it easily while my big brother carried 
the rest of our purchases. As we sat on a bus headed back to our 
neighborhood, I looked forward to decorating the tree, as it had always 
been one of my favorite moments of the holiday season. 

"You're beaming," my big brother noted softly, patting my thigh. 

I smiled at him, indeed happily anticipating the evening ahead. "It's our 
first holiday season alone, just you and me. Why wouldn't I be happy?" 

With no one else sitting near us, my big brother took my hand in his, and 
my heart seemed to swell in my chest. 

We finally returned to our apartment and deposited our purchases. He took 
my hand in his again and pulled me close. The kiss we shared was long and 
sweet, full of tenderness and love. Then he simply held me for a long 
time, and I leaned against him, feeling cherished and protected. 

"Let's go out for dinner tonight," I finally suggested, "somewhere nicer 
than usual." 

We ate at an upscale Chinese restaurant on Solano Avenue, a place Valerie 
had recently suggested, and we were definitely not disappointed. The 
decorations up and down the street truly gave the entire area a festive 
atmosphere, even though there was no snow to accompany the jubilant 
season. When we finally boarded a bus to return home, the seasonal 
atmosphere traveled with us in the group of (likely) Berkeley students 
dressed as elves, probably headed to a party. 

"Are you glad to be off work tonight?" my big brother asked as the bus 
passed through the tunnel that reminded me so much of the opening to Ridge 
Racer IV. 

"Definitely," I replied with a smile. "I do wish Mom and Daddy could be 
here to see the tree when we finish the decorating, but at least you and I 
get to do it together." 

He laughed, and it took me a moment to catch the unintended 
double-meaning. If other around us heard and understood the reason for his 
laughter, they did not react... fortunately. 

Once back in our apartment, I made coffee while my big brother lit a 
number of candles in the living room and put on a CD of instrumental 
versions of holiday songs. When I brought the coffee to him, he looked 
particularly nice in his all-black attire: shoes, socks, slacks, belt, 
shirt. I noted how his eyes drank in the vision of his own baby sister, 
clad in a snug black dress with matching stockings and heels, and noticed 
the how his eyes lingered upon the low neckline. Nothing was said for 
several pregnant moments as we drank and gazed upon each other, the soft 
music being the only sound. 

"Shall we get started?" he finally offered. 

We took our time opening the box with the artificial tree and the various 
packages of decorations. Once we had everything spread out across the 
living room, including the decorations our parents had sent a week 
earlier, we began to construct the tree. With all the branches snugly in 
place, we took a quick break to finish the coffee, then began to add the 
lights: two strands of white lights and three strands of multicolored 
lights wound around the branches in a haphazard, crisscrossing pattern 
which would likely be somewhat awkward to unravel in January. Next came 
the ornaments: a few which had been in the family for generations, the 
ones our parents had sent, the ones we had bought that afternoon, and even 
a few we had made in art classes in school. 

The tree skirt was next, my big brother kneeling to wrap it around the 
base of the tree. While he worked under the tree, I retrieved the final 
three items: two ornaments and a star. These two ornaments were rather 
plain in appearance: large white balls sprinkled with gold glitter. But 
what made these ornaments special to us was that they bore our names: 
Vicki and Victor. 

At last, my big brother stood and turned to me. I held out the two 
ornaments to him, and he smiled – it was clear that these two items also 
held a special meaning for him. He located a branch at the front of the 
tree, about halfway up, and added both ornaments, then I handed him the 
star to add to the very top of the tree, and he stepped back to inspect 
his work. 

We cleaned up the living room, then I sat on the sofa as my big brother 
plugged in the lights. The tree looked absolutely beautiful, the contrast 
of white and multicolored lights adding a visual appeal. The tree itself 
was smaller and less densely decorated than what our parents would have 
this year, but there was one significant difference: This particular tree 
was ours and ours alone. 

As my big brother approached the sofa, I thought of the meanings of how he 
had placed the Vicki and Victor ornaments: touching. Anyone who knew us 
would likely think of it as a symbol of the close bond my big brother and 
I had always shared. But to me, it represented the inseparable nature of 
our lives, the way we were practically fused together. 

"Put out the candles," I suggested, and he did before he joined me on the 
sofa. In the light of our first holiday tree, we held each other close, 
essentially mimicking the position of those two special ornaments. 

"Happy holidays, baby sister," my big brother whispered. "You're the best 
possible gift I could ever have." Then he kissed me, adding to the warmth 
I already felt both in the air and deep within me, and we spent the rest 
of the evening on the sofa, our hands exploring and our lips adoring each 
other. It was a beautiful way to end the day, and to begin the holiday 
season. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 15
by WFEATHER ©

I was putting away my newly-washed clothes when my big brother came into 
my bedroom. Stepping up behind me, he wrapped his arms around me and 
kissed the top of my head. "I just had an interesting idea," he announced. 
"How do you feel about taking a 'vacation' of sorts to celebrate the end 
of our first semester of college?" 

That made me stop and think, a smile upon my lips. "What did you have in 
mind? We don't have time to go to, say, Hokkaido before we go back to see 
our parents." 

"I was thinking of something much more local, something which doesn't 
require airfare for two." 

"A drive up to Infineon Raceway? We'd need to rent a car first, and I 
doubt there's much racing taking place there this time of year." 

"Actually, there are several racing schools which use Infineon Raceway, so 
I'm sure one of them will be in action. However" – he gave me a gentle 
squeeze and lowered his voice – "I was thinking of perhaps a night in a 
hotel in San Francisco." 

I had never considered that, but I had previously heard of people "getting 
away from it all" by spending a night or two at a local hotel. And why 
not? It would get us away from the apartment for a while, which would make 
the night special. It would not just be a short day trip into San 
Francisco, and it would almost certainly spawn some very fond memories we 
would carry with us for the rest of our lives. 

"That would be a wonderful idea," I thought aloud, turning around in my 
big brother's grasp to kiss him. 

That evening, we compared our exam schedules, and realized that his last 
exam was on a Wednesday morning, and my final assignment was a major paper 
which was already nearly complete, so I could turn in my paper on Tuesday, 
when I would be on campus anyhow for my last formal exam. We researched 
hotels in San Francisco, in different parts of the city, and we had soon 
made our decision – a rather easy decision, actually, given our shared 
interest in anime. While I took a shower, my big brother made the 
reservations, and when I returned to his bedroom, all he said was, "It's 
done." 

*****

At last, the "big day" finally arrived. While my big brother was taking 
his last exam of the semester, I enjoyed a long hot bubble bath, my mind 
wondering what was in store for us for our end-of-semester mini-vacation. 
I spent a long, long time that morning brushing my hair, applying make-up, 
carefully considering what to wear before ultimately dressing, and finally 
packing with a night of explicit fun in mind. 

Lunch was light: salad and chicken sandwiches. I washed the dishes as my 
big brother changed clothes and packed, and we were soon on our way to the 
BART station, our mini-vacation under way. 

*****

It was a cool, windy day in San Francisco. The concrete canyons truly 
focused the swiftly-moving air, chilling me as I rolled my carry-on behind 
me. It felt strange to appear so much like a tourist in a city I was 
starting to know fairly well, but my big brother gave me a reassuring 
smile as a subtle reminder of what awaited us. 

The bus meandered slowly through the traffic and up the steep hill. 
Fortunately, we were able to find two adjacent unoccupied seats near the 
back of the bus, and we chatted quietly about the end of the semester, our 
plans for when we returned back east to spend Christmas with our parents, 
my big brother's plans to find a new job with more hours. 

Finally, we arrived within a few blocks of our destination and disembarked 
from the bus. Having been to Little Tokyo several times since moving to 
the Bay Area, the surroundings were rather familiar, but it still took a 
few moments to truly orient ourselves so we could walk toward the hotel. 

When we ultimately entered our room, my big brother gave a huge sigh of 
relief. "Now it truly feels like the semester is over and done with," he 
observed. I simply closed the door and ensured it was locked, then joined 
him at the window as he parted the curtains. Despite the clouds, sunlight 
filtered through, brightening what had previously been a rather gray, 
somewhat-dismal day. It was almost as if Nature herself was agreeing with 
my big brother's comment, indicating that the work was done and that now 
we could play. 

"Go get undressed," I instructed him. "I think you could definitely use a 
massage." 

"Sure," he said with a smile and a kiss. 

A few minutes later, I straddled my big brother, massaging almond-scented 
oil into his bare back. All was quiet, as one might expect at this time of 
day on a Wednesday in a hotel. Neither of us said anything for a long, 
long time. I massaged my forbidden lover as I openly admired his physique 
once again, imagining his weight pinning me down on the bed as he thrust 
into me again and again and again as I clawed at his back. His shoulder 
blades still bore a few faint lines of red from where I had scratched him 
previously during a particularly powerful session of lovemaking, and I 
paused the massage briefly to trace each memorable marking with a 
fingernail. 

Eventually, I had to move off my fraternal twin to allow him to turn over, 
but then I straddled him again, massaging more of the almond-scented oil 
into his chest. We spoke with our eyes, gazing fondly at each other. There 
was no awkwardness or shame in the fact that he was being touched so 
intimately by his own baby sister. It was a bit unusual that I was still 
fully clothed while he was the one who was naked, but that did not matter 
to either of us. The love we shared filled the hotel room, warming the air 
even more, surrounding us in a cocoon of devotion. And as I perched upon 
him, he reached up to caress my cheek, his touch creating an additional 
warmth within my chest. 

In time, I changed my position so that I was flat on my stomach between 
his legs. Slowly, I made love to him with my mouth, my ears savoring the 
contented sighs escaping his lips. Time passed languidly as I suckled the 
forbidden phallus, enjoying the experience just as much as I enjoyed my 
big brother's soft touches upon my head and my hands. There was no rush 
from either of us. This was not about making him explode in my mouth; this 
was about demonstrating how much I adored him, about giving him 
long-lasting pleasure that he would remember for a long time. 

Eventually, however, my jaw was too sore from being in one position for so 
long. With a final kiss to the tip of his manhood, I slowly crawled up my 
big brother's body, raining gentle kisses upon him until I finally buried 
my face in his neck and simply laid upon him, his hands caressing me 
through my clothes. 

No words were said. No words were needed. This was simply our time to be 
together, our time to be alone, our time to be ourselves. 

*****

We meandered through the various shops of Little Tokyo. We were mostly 
silent, but it was a very comfortable silence, similar to that our 
grandparents shared after their more than fifty years of marriage. That my 
big brother and I had already attained such a level of comfort with each 
other astounded me; that we could maintain such a loving silence despite 
the many shoppers surrounding us was almost impossible to comprehend. 

I was not at all surprised to see my big brother stop at the window of a 
women's clothing store. Prominently displayed in the window was a 
traditional Japanese schoolgirl uniform in navy blue. As he looked from 
the uniform to me to the uniform to me again, I knew that he was 
envisioning me in that attire. 

"I already have a sailor fuku," I reminded him quietly, and from his smile 
and the narrowing of his eyebrows, I knew that he was also reminiscing 
upon our private Halloween celebration just two months earlier. 

In time, we chose a restaurant for dinner: an upscale Japanese buffet. 
While my big brother had been here once previously with a few friends from 
college, this was my first visit, and it certainly would not be my last. I 
knew instantly that it was a good place to eat given that there were only 
five other non-Asians in the restaurant. The price was definitely 
worthwhile, and we both ate our fill, with repeated trips to the buffet 
lines on either side of the main entrance. Between the two of us, we 
sampled almost everything that was offered that evening. 

It was quite cold as we strolled outside, the plethora of holiday lights 
casting a cheery glow all along our path. I clung to my big brother, 
pressing his arm against my chest. He did not seem to mind, and no one 
around us seemed to really take much notice of us. I did see a few other 
couples in similar positions as they passed us heading in the opposite 
direction. 

When we finally reached the hotel, the warmth of the Japan-inspired lobby 
was extremely refreshing. We made our way to the elevators and, once 
inside with the doors closed, my big brother suddenly pulled me against 
him and kissed me with surprising passion for several seconds, leaving me 
breathless. "I've always wanted to kiss someone in an elevator," he said 
with a sparkle in his eye, "and I'm glad I had the chance to do it with 
you." 

We were both still laughing about the kiss and his comment when we finally 
reached our hotel room. Once the door was closed, we hugged tightly. If 
not for our clothing, I believe our bodies would have fused into a single 
entity, much like our hearts. 

It was still relatively early in the evening, and we both still needed to 
allow dinner to digest. With profound admiration, we undressed each other, 
our hands and our lips continually in contact. Soon, we were sharing a 
long shower together, taking our time in washing each other, but spending 
the majority of the shower simply holding each other and sharing 
lingering, respectful kisses. When we finally emerged, unabashedly naked, 
from the bathroom, I was being carried to the single king-size bed, where 
I was deposited with the care worthy of a fragile painted ceramic egg 
being put on display in the world-renowned museum. 

Seemingly only a heartbeat later, my big brother was positioned between my 
legs, his fingers gently spreading my labia. I felt his hot breath upon 
me, then whimpered softly as his tongue gently stroked me between my 
feminine folds. Although he held me open, I did not feel exposed, such was 
the love and the trust I felt so deeply for my fraternal twin. 

"You taste even sweeter than usual tonight, baby sister," he whispered. 
Then he returned to sampling my nectar, his tongue and his fingers 
worshipping me and causing my passion to slowly rise. My body moved 
against his well-honed efforts as I writhed upon the massive bed, my teeth 
worrying my lower lip as I consciously fought the urge to moan loudly. And 
when I finally did squeal (fortunately, softly), the magical forbidden 
tongue was lifted away from me, frustrating me. 

"Don't stop!" I pleaded with husky breath. "Please don't stop! Eat me! 
Yes!" 

Soon, however, my twin crawled up my body, kissing me, groping me, his 
actions practically setting my skin ablaze. And when his sister-sweetened 
lips finally reached my face, he flattened himself upon me, crushing me 
wonderfully with his weight and swallowing the air forced from my lungs. 

If the hotel cleaning staff would have entered our hotel room at that 
time, they would have seen a young couple in constant motion upon the 
massive bed. We groped and licked and humped and kissed and rolled and 
bit, our loving banter reduced to simple short grunts and squeals. Even 
the bed seemed to groan softly in protest of our incessant actions. 
Throughout the loving "battle," I was extremely aware of my growing 
arousal and the heat being generated deep within me, as well as the 
ever-present heartiness of his intense desire for me. 

With a sudden primal cry, an orgasm was inflicted upon me, and as I clawed 
at my big brother's back and spasmed beneath him, his fingers continued 
assaulting the base of my torso so that one climax rolled into another 
into the next, until I was essentially just a quivering mindless 
whimpering oozing mass at the center of the bed. 

I believe I fell asleep, at least briefly, for my next memory is of my big 
brother massaging my chest with the almond-scented oil. As his hands 
slowly worked their magic, he looked upon me with an expression akin to 
wonderment, as if my series of orgasms was something he wished he could 
experience as well. 

"You have a very good touch," I complimented him in a whisper, reaching up 
to stroke his cheek. 

"Well, perhaps it's because you're just a rather touchable girl," he 
responded with equal reverence, his hands never leaving my slickened 
breasts. 

I closed my eyes, and simply reveled in his fondling of my chest. Even 
long after the oil had essentially permeated my skin, his hands continued 
to knead my feminine swells, which ensured that my liquid love continued 
to spill from my body. I felt no embarrassment, no shame, at having my big 
brother touch me so intimately. His touch both warmed me and calmed me. 

And when he finally bend forward to kiss my lips, my mouth opened to him, 
allowing his tongue access to my warm wet cavity. My arms wrapped around 
him, holding him close, my fingernails gently scratching his upper back. I 
whimpered softly into his loving mouth, my heart attempting to rip muscle 
and bone and skin to be stroked directly by my big brother's gentle hands. 


At last, my forbidden lover rose to a kneeling position beside me upon the 
king-size bed. He lifted my hand to his lips, causing me to giggle quietly 
at the old-fashioned gesture. But finally, I rose to a sitting position, 
and leaned forward to hug him. "I love you so much, big brother," I 
whispered into his ear. His response was to gently suckle my right ear 
lobe, just below the small piercing. 

"Stay here," I instructed him, extricating myself from his hold. I slipped 
off the bed, grasped the handle of my rolling carry-on, and pulled it with 
me into the bathroom. 

I soon wore the same black mesh crotchless teddy that I had bought with 
part of my first paycheck from the video store. Small embroidered red 
roses circled each cup of the thin garment, effectively decorating each 
breast. A small red bow rested atop the mons, adding additional 
decoration. The thong-style teddy had no back, only a series of thin 
straps to ensure the mesh front would stay affixed to my front... until 
properly exposed by my adoring big brother. 

As I watched myself in the mirror, I brushed my hair until it felt rather 
fluffy as it tumbled down my exposed upper back, then added just a subtle 
hint of rouge to my cheeks and applied my big brother's favorite 
strawberry-flavored lip gloss. I was finally ready, and I turned off the 
light and emerged from the bathroom. 

With the exception of a tall pillar candle perched in the middle of the 
table by the window, it was dark in the room. Seeing me approach the bed, 
my twin sat up and smiled as he saw that I was wearing the same teddy 
again. When I had first worn it for him at the beginning of the semester, 
he had taken me while I was still officially clothed, exploiting the 
crotchless nature of the garment. I wondered if he would ultimately 
undress me this time before penetrating me. 

My big brother had also dressed – somewhat – during my absence. He wore a 
black leather thong, the front of which was just barely able to contain 
his obviously-lengthening manhood. To my knowledge, my fraternal twin had 
never worn such an item before, and I felt honored that he would do so for 
me on this particular occasion. 

"I'm glad you like it," he whispered. Only then did I realize that I was 
smiling appreciatively. As he reached me, I knelt before him, gently 
caressing him through the front of his thong, causing the succulent tip of 
his forbidden phallus to emerge from the top of the pouch. 

"Does my baby sister want to suck her big brother's cock?" he asked 
softly. I looked up at him in the near-total darkness, nodding slowly, not 
trusting my voice at that moment. 

"Then first, you must earn that right." 

Stepping away from me, my twin crossed the room toward his travel bag, and 
returned to me with a thin collar. He showed it to me, and my heart soared 
seeing that "Baby" has been emblazoned upon it in silver metal. 

"Stand." I obeyed quickly and turned around, lifting my hair to allow my 
big brother better access to place the collar upon me. The leather felt 
nice, encircling my neck snugly as the collar was buckled into place. 

"You are indeed my baby," my twin brother whispered into my ear as his 
arms encircled me about the chest, "so I of course thought of you when I 
saw this online." 

I lifted my fingertips to the collar, tracing the four letters at the 
front of my neck. 

"Now for you to earn the right to suck me." 

I watched as my big brother returned to his travel bag, producing two 
items: a pair of black leather cuffs connected with a double-headed snap 
clip, and a black whip with numerous long, thin tails. I smiled, albeit a 
bit nervously, knowing that I would "earn" my prize by suffering pain. 
Yet, as I had proclaimed to my big brother previously, I wanted to 
experience pain for his pleasure. 

"Hurt me, big brother," I pleaded, "please." 

He smiled, then kissed my forehead. "Don't worry. I will." 

Just a few heartbeats later, my wrists were secured behind me. My legs 
spread to roughly shoulder width, I stood proudly in the darkness, dressed 
yet essentially fully exposed to my domineering twin's hard incestuous 
gaze. I squirmed a bit, testing the strength of the double-headed snap 
clip, closing my eyes to relish the sensation of leather around my wrists 
and neck. 

I heard it, but did not have time to react before I felt the first kiss of 
the whip across my chest. That first blow certainly stung and caused me to 
inhale sharply and loudly, and the cuffs performed their job quite nicely, 
preventing me from instinctively protecting my tender breasts with my 
hands. 

"Your safeword is 'hentai,'" my big brother told me. 

Then the whip graced my vulnerable chest again. And again. And again. And 
again. The time between those stinging strikes slowly decreased, until I 
was practically dancing, shifting from foot to foot with my arms jerking 
against the secured wrist cuffs as I tried to deal with the ever-growing 
discomfort. My breaths came faster and harder and louder, and soon I was 
grunting with each blow. 

"You're doing well, baby sister." 

Then he struck me harder, faster. The discomfort transitioned at that 
point from an intense stinging sensation across my chest to an actual 
pain. Yet my aching breasts were topped by erect nipples, and I was also 
aware of a warm wetness forming at the base of my torso. 

"Don't stop!" I managed to blurt out, and my big brother did not 
disappoint me. Each strike of the whip was more powerful than the last, 
causing my breasts to truly jiggle roughly and seductively. 

At last, the dam broke, and the tears began to fall. I cried openly – not 
for the first time in my big brother's presence, but this cry somehow felt 
so much more meaningful. He did not relent in his onslaught, battering me 
breasts mercilessly for several more minutes before he finally grabbed me 
by the shoulders and forced me to my knees. 

He quickly stepped out of his thong, and I eagerly opened my mouth as wide 
as possible. His hands in my hair, my big brother forced himself inside 
me, momentarily causing me to gag on his sizeable erection. Even as I 
continued to cry, I sucked him greedily, noting the taste of the sweet 
fluid trickling from the tip of his manhood. He controlled the movement of 
my head, whipping my neck back and forth faster and faster, grunting 
softly as my mouth enticed him, until, finally, his incestuous love filled 
my mouth and cascaded down my throat and dribbled past my lips. When he 
had no more to feed me, he dropped to his knees and hugged me fiercely, 
crushing me with his devotion, and I lamented the fact that I could not 
hold him with equal enthusiasm due to the leather wrist cuffs. 


Eventually, we regained our feet, and my big brother attempted to remove 
the cuffs from me, but I quickly backed away, bumping into the bed. 
"Please, don't," I requested. "I want to stay in the cuffs a bit longer." 
It was true – I enjoyed the restraint, the loss of freedom in my arms, the 
way this predicament exposed me to my twin's gaze and touch and use. He 
seemed to understand and nodded, but he grasped my arm and led me to the 
bathroom once again. 

After wetting one of the hotel washcloths with warm water from the sink's 
faucet, he washed my face, cleaning the dried tears and the illicit love 
from me. As he hung the washcloth to dry, I admired my aching chest in the 
mirror, noting the redness showing through the black mesh teddy, and I 
knew that I would sport those beautiful brother-inflicted markings well 
into the evening. 

"You never used your safeword," my loving twin observed, stroking my head 
when he returned to me. "You took the whipping quite well." 

I smiled at him. "I liked it," I admitted. "It made me feel more feminine 
having you beat my breasts like that." 

Bending down, my big brother placed a loving kiss upon each breast. "I may 
hurt you again like that sometime. Would you like that?" 

"I think so," I replied honestly. "And next time, I won't be so nervous 
beforehand." 

We kissed briefly, then my twin grasped my arm again and led me back into 
the room. This time, he pulled out one of the chairs at the table and had 
me sit. I waited patiently, my mind trying to anticipate what he had 
planned for me next as he returned to his travel bag. When he returned to 
me carrying a coil of white rope, I knew what was next... 

...an excuse to once again practice the knot-tying skills he had learned 
as a Boy Scout. 

"Just remember," I chided him, "I'm your baby sister, not a set of small 
logs." 

"You may be my baby sister," he replied with a grin, "but you're still 
just a tyable as a set of small logs!" 

And in short order, I was indeed tied to the chair. My legs were free, but 
my torso was pinned to the back of the chair, with several loops of the 
rope both above and below my reddened, slightly-aching breasts. With my 
wrists still cuffed and trapped between my torso and the back of the 
chair, I definitely would not be able to free myself, relying solely upon 
my big brother to either quickly free me or somehow protect me from any 
falling debris should a major earthquake suddenly strike the Bay Area. 

He seemed to sense my sudden concern, as he gently stroked my head again 
and reassured me, "You're safe with me, always." I nodded, nervousness 
welling up in my chest and squeezing my heart despite the nearly-tangible 
loving atmosphere of our hotel room. "I also have something very 
important," he said, returning to the travel bag and seconds later holding 
up a pair of EMT scissors. He placed the scissors next to the pillar 
candle on the table beside me, almost certainly more in an effort to quell 
my concerns than because he really wanted them to be in that particular 
spot. 

I watched as my domineering twin moved toward the television. He turned on 
the TV and picked up the remote as the shaving scene from Home Alone 
played on one of the movie channels. Sitting on the bed, he flipped 
through the channels, until he found a porn channel. Since I doubt a porn 
channel would come "standard" with a hotel room, I figured that he must 
have special ordered the channel when he made our reservation. 

The accompanying music was wonderfully slow and seductive in its own 
right, but the auburn-haired babe riding the Sybian by a glowing fireplace 
was certainly giving a genuine screaming performance as someone off-camera 
controlled the sex machine. My big brother turned down the sound, then 
leaned back on the bed and began to stroke himself as he watched the scene 
on the screen. 

My eyes moved almost constantly between the small screen and the forbidden 
phallus. I was in awe of her vocalizations and tried to imagine myself 
perched upon the Sybian, but I also ached to feel my big brother inside me 
once again, to ingest his white-hot love and allow it to nourish me. 

In scenes lasting perhaps ten minutes each, we watched as three other 
beautiful young women tried the Sybian, supposedly each for the first time 
according to the on-screen captions. For those thirty sexually-charged 
minutes, I anointed the seat of the chair with my arousal, and I became 
more and more frustrated because I could not stroke my clitoris or drip a 
finger inside my weeping sex. I actually became jealous of my big brother, 
free to gently touch himself to maintain his full length and girth. I was 
even a little angry with him, for he would occasionally tear his eyes away 
from the small screen to look at me with a 
don't-you-wish-you-could-touch-yourself grin. Soon I was squirming in the 
chair, actually attempting to struggle my way out of my bonds, but the 
leather cuffs and my big brother's ropework both held firm. 

"That's right, baby sister," he said with a lecherous sneer, finally 
leaving the bed and coming toward me. "Fight the rope for me. Struggle 
your way to freedom." 

He stood between me and the television, so I could not see the action 
on-screen. I watched, fascinated, as he stroked himself again, his touches 
more firm now, as I heard the rumblings of the Sybian and enjoyed the 
needful wails of another young babe. My big brother performed for me, 
stroking himself, caressing his body with his free hand. Likewise, I 
performed for him, feeling his eyes undressing me (even though, given the 
mesh material of the teddy, there was really not much to undress) as I 
fought with growing vigor against my bonds, even though, somehow, I 
definitely did not want to escape. 

What I did want, however, was to be touched, to feel my big brother 
rutting into me. My legs were thankfully free, but squeezing my thighs 
together was not enough to provide me with the relief I needed. I pleaded 
with my eyes and with my voice, requesting to be touched, to be fingered, 
to be released and fucked like a worthless whore. And as a tiny Asian 
beauty on the small screen succumbed to a shrieking, body-rocking climax, 
my big brother knelt behind me, quickly untying the rope which confined me 
to the chair. 

In no time, I was bent over the bed, my wrists still secured behind me. 
Making use of the crotchless nature of my teddy, my dominant twin impaled 
me so quickly it hurt a little, causing me to cry out, the bed muffling my 
voice. We were both grunting lewdly as he fucked me and spanked me. I was 
my big brother's bitch, his slut, his cunt, his whore, his dirty baby 
sister, his slave; he told me as much, and I kept nodding my assent, the 
phrase "Yes, Master!" naturally spilling from me lips. 

"Cum for your big brother!" he ordered, and with a final, brutal thrust 
deep into me, his climax triggered mine. His fingernails painfully digging 
into my hips, I screamed into the bed as I spasmed violently around him, 
milking the last of the white-hot love from my dominant twin. 

Eventually, after another long hot shower together, we cuddled under the 
covers. Naked as usual, we slowly masturbated each other, maintaining a 
good "simmer" level of arousal, which is all either of us really wanted 
after the memorable events of the evening. In whispers in the darkness, we 
discussed the bondage experience, the degrading name-calling, the spanking 
and the whipping, and we realized that this was something we both wanted 
to try again, soon. 

*****

We both slept fairly late, taking advantage of not needing to go to class. 
Looking at the digital clock in the television, we had missed the free 
breakfast in the small hotel restaurant, and we needed to be out of the 
hotel room in about two hours. Instead, my big brother ate me, taking his 
fill of my liquid love, then he in turn fed me, his seed quite tasty given 
the events of the night before which had brought our relationship to 
another level. 

It was with great sadness and great fondness that we finally left the 
hotel. We made our way back to Berkeley in complete silence, looking at 
each other quite often and thinking about the experiences we had shared at 
the hotel. 

My only regret about the mini-vacation was that I had never had the 
opportunity to have my dominant twin use the handcuffs and the wooden 
paddle on me. The recently-purchased items remained hidden at the bottom 
of my carry-on, still waiting to be used on me. But I knew that, 
eventually, I would be able to present them to my big brother – my Master? 
– to further strengthen our profound bond. 


 
Twins in College Ch. 16
by WFEATHER ©

While it had been nice to visit our parents for a few days for the 
holidays, it had been very strange and rather lonely for my big brother 
and I to sleep in separate bedrooms, although we did sneak in more than a 
few quick hugs and kisses. There were a few times when I wondered if our 
mother suspected that there was more than just sibling love between her 
twin children, but she never said anything about it to me. 

Still, it was quite nice to finally return to California. The descent into 
Oakland International Airport provided a welcome sight as we flew along 
the bay. As the plane decreased its altitude, I felt my heart soaring, 
knowing that, at last, we were very nearly home. 

It was strange to me in a way that, despite having grown up in the same 
house for virtually my entire life, the apartment I had shared with my big 
brother for only a semester truly felt more "home-like" to me. Perhaps 
that was due to the love we shared; perhaps that was due to the fact that 
we did not share that space with anyone else. In the end, all that 
mattered was that we were very nearly home, and once there, the seemingly 
endless days of hiding our loving relationship would thankfully end. 

Being the holiday season, the plane was practically full, and since we sat 
in the very last row on the left side of the plane, my big brother and I 
had a long time to wait before we would be able to deplane. We simply sat 
in our usual comfortable silence, watching the mayhem before us as the 
other passengers scrambled to retrieve their belongings and rush into the 
terminal itself. 

"You two are just so calm," one of the flight attendants commented to us. 
"I've noticed that ever since I saw you two boarding the plane. There's no 
hurry for anything. You just seem to move at your own pace. That's really 
refreshing at this time of year." 

I simply smiled, and she returned to working through her post-landing 
checklist. Her comment raised another reason I was so eager to return to 
the apartment: The frenetic pace of the holiday season would be locked out 
of our lives... at least, until I had to return to work at the video store 
the next day. 

As we at last made our way through Terminal 2, my big brother took my 
hand, leading me through the rushing throngs. Babies were crying, children 
were running amok, adults were hurrying to catch their flights, and people 
of all ages were practically yelling into their cell phones so they could 
be heard... even the people moving "slowly" were bumping others out of 
their way. The stress level was quite tangible. But my big brother was as 
effective as a bulky offensive lineman, creating a hole in the defensive 
crowd for me to pass through relatively unscathed. 

At last, we made it out of the secure area, emerging by the Terminal 2 
Baggage Claim area. Everything was even more chaotic here, especially 
since the lengthy lines to enter the secure area extended well toward the 
nearest baggage return carousels. The defense became even more unruly, 
jostling me much more often as I was led through the area and finally 
outside to the crowded sidewalk. 

Yet, as my big brother led me toward the AirBART pick-up point, I was 
still able to remain calm. Just the simple act of holding my hand allowed 
his love to pour into me, to fill me with a calm and a sense of peace that 
seemed to be missing from the entire world at that very moment. While I 
was keenly aware of the hurrying people and the honking traffic all around 
us as we crossed the intersection toward the awaiting AirBART shuttle, 
none of it mattered to me – it was all essentially "white noise" in 
relation to the respectful love I felt flowing into me from my big 
brother. 

We joined the mob of people shoehorning themselves into the AirBART 
shuttle. We had to stand, and we were able to arrange ourselves so that I 
faced my big brother. Our luggage – just carry-on bags – secured between 
our feet, I wrapped my arms snugly around his waist and nestled my head 
against his shoulder. He held an overhead bar with one hand, his opposite 
arm securely around my upper back to hold me to him, protecting me from 
the noisy, chattering throng. As the shuttle finally began to move, 
everyone was jostled about due to the starts and stops associated with 
traffic around a major international airport during the holiday season. 
Yet, as much as I have always disliked crowds, I felt secure, pressed 
tightly against my big brother, feeling his heartbeat echoing mine. 

I felt a significant lengthening between us as the motion of the shuttle 
rocked me continually against my forbidden lover. Despite the hustle and 
bustle of the holiday travelers, his growing erection was essentially an 
island of normalcy, a familiar sword of calm decapitating the din around 
us. I whispered sweet nothings into his ear, and his hold tightened around 
me. To my surprise, I was a little reluctant to separate from my big 
brother when we finally arrived at the BART station. 

Even on the BART train, there was still a tangible sense of stress and 
hurriedness surrounding us. Once again, there were no seats available, so 
we stood, but at least the passengers were not packed in like sardines as 
had been the case on the AirBART. At last, we had a chance to chat 
quietly, falling into our usual banter. As the train approached Berkeley 
and more and more people disembarked, the crowd naturally thinned, and the 
overall level of stress lowered noticeably until, finally, we were nearing 
our stop. 

We were nearly home. We were nearly back in our safe haven, secluded from 
this busy, stressful, fast-paced world. 

It had been sunset when the plane landed; it was quite dark when we 
stepped out of the BART station. Once in our neighborhood again, there was 
virtually no traffic, and definitely no one joining us on the sidewalk – 
clearly, the students were still largely scattered across the country 
visiting friends and family for the holidays. Lights were shining through 
only a very few windows in the houses and apartments. 

Back in our cozy apartment at last, I locked the door behind us, shutting 
out the frenzy of the holiday season. My big brother turned on the lights 
on our tree, casting a cheery glow across the living room. 

A heartbeat later, I was in my big brother's arms, savoring a long, warm 
kiss. We left our luggage by the door and slowly made our way to the sofa, 
where the foreplay was lengthy and slow, the undressing process proceeding 
at the pace of continental drift, and the eventual lovemaking as gentle as 
a young chick's feathers. 

Despite the lengthy time without any sexual contact, neither of us was in 
a hurry. We took great pleasure in simply being alone together once again, 
our love once again expanding to fill the entire apartment with a tangible 
warm energy. And as we finally reached climax together, it was such a 
beautiful moment that tears of love and devotion trickled down my cheeks 
as my big brother and I sang softly together, our bodies and our souls 
joined as one. 


Twins in College Ch. 17
by WFEATHER ©

Sunday morning, and the holiday break was very nearly at its end. I awoke 
to find my big brother's head upon my exposed chest, his ear pressed to my 
sternum. He had said a few times before how much he enjoyed listening to 
my heartbeat; apparently, the rhythmic sound was soothing him even as he 
slept upon me. 

The air in the apartment felt slightly cool, despite the temperature we 
usually maintain in every room. I reached down and pulled up the covers, 
almost completely covering his head. 

The way he would hold me as we drifted to sleep every night would always 
make me feel protected, as if I was as important to him as is pure gold to 
the world economy. I cradled his head to me in much the same way, wanting 
to protect him during the relative vulnerability of sleep. 

I closed my eyes, thinking of what I was doing at that very moment. I was 
naked, in bed with my own big brother, who was also naked. His ear was 
pressed to my chest, and my hands were ensuring that his head did not move 
from its current position. Anyone who saw us together in such a 
compromising position would be either repulsed and/or angry at our illicit 
relationship. 

Yet, I did not care. The love I felt for my big brother was as natural to 
me as the act of breathing. The sharing of my bed and my body was simply 
an extension of my love. The occasional tickle wars and the brief shoulder 
massages and the time spent washing our laundry all served to bring us 
even closer together and further strengthen the love I felt for him. 

His head shifted, coming to rest firmly upon a breast, as a hand slid 
across my stomach to grasp my hip. Clearly, he was still asleep. He 
definitely was comfortable in sleeping upon me, his own twin sister, and 
in touching my naked body. It was a touching moment, poignantly heightened 
by the gentle scratching of his lower face, certainly in need of a shave. 

Slowly running my fingers through his hair, I closed my eyes and sighed 
contentedly. My mind wandered a bit, thinking about our relationship thus 
far. We had been lovers for roughly eight months, and had spent half that 
time living together in Berkeley. I remembered the quick stolen moments we 
had shared while we still lived back east, able only to share a quick hug 
or kiss or grope so as not to arouse the suspicions of our parents. Of 
course, there was the wonderful summer weekend camping trip in the 
mountains, a weekend full of great conversations, fantastic views, and 
intense lovemaking. 

The head upon my breast shifted again while the hand upon my hip moved up 
my side to wrap around my ribcage. In a way, I wished my big brother's 
hand would wrap around certain other areas of my body instead, but I was 
not about to complain. I truly enjoyed his touches: soft and respectful, 
full of love and admiration. 

The life we had created for ourselves upon arriving in Berkeley was indeed 
a good one. As first-year college students, we both had our studies to 
consider, as well as our jobs. In some ways, my big brother and I were 
very much like a husband and wife two-income household. And while we each 
had our own bedrooms with all the requisite items for sleeping and working 
alone, we sometimes worked together, and we always slept together... 
typically completely naked. 

... as we were at that moment, on a semi-cool morning in my bedroom. Just 
how many times had we made love here in this bed, late at night before 
drifting to sleep or early in the morning to help chase the last remnants 
of sleep from our minds? How often had we retired here during the day, 
sometimes just for slow foreplay but other times just because our carnal 
desires needed to be sated? There were, of course, many non-sexual 
activities we had shared in this very bedroom, from massages to working on 
my computer to general freewheeling chats to just simple sleep. 

"My sweetest Victor," I whispered, stroking my big brother's head. "I love 
you so much." 

That seemed to be the key, for my big brother stirred at last, turning his 
face toward my breast to place a gentle kiss just above the nipple. I 
smiled as his lips kissed a short trail into my valley, ending with a kiss 
and a gentle nibble directly over my heart. 

"Good morning to you, too," I said softly, my hands caressing his head. 

Sliding upward in bed, he finally kissed the tip of my nose, eliciting a 
quiet giggle from me before his lips silenced me. He did not miss a beat 
as he reached for the covers and pulled them up to properly cover us and 
protect our nudity from the semi-cool air. I could feel a familiar 
lengthening against me, and I wondered what he was thinking as his tongue 
dipped past my lips. 

I lifted his head away from me, and we gazed longingly into each other's 
eyes. "I'm yours, big brother," I whispered. "Take me. Make love to your 
baby sister." 

"Only if you promise to accompany me to La Note for brunch." 

My response was a smile and a wink. 

We kissed again for a long, long time as my big brother lovingly played 
between my legs, his fingers gently probing my womanhood. I mewled softly 
into his mouth again and again as he masturbated me slowly, causing my 
passion to trickle from me. Languidly, I moved against his hand, 
thoroughly enjoying the illicit touches. 

He finally tore his lips away from mine and wrapped them around a nipple. 
"Oh please!" I begged softly, squirming from the sensations he was 
creating within me. But he ignored my pleas, continuing to finger me and 
suck me, occasionally taking the nipple between his teeth and tugging just 
hard enough to magnify the jolts of delight without actually hurting me. 

"Take me!" 

"Make love to me!" 

"Fill me!" 

"Please!!!" 

He ignored my every plea, playing my body like a professional musician 
performing with a well-tuned instrument. Although I felt a tremendous pang 
of embarrassment, I begged, I willingly debased myself. Tears even formed 
at the corners of my eyes and ultimately trickled down my cheeks. 

"I need you inside me!!!" 

"Use me!!!" 

"Ngyaaaaah!!!" He bit my nipple hard enough to hurt, yet the pain felt 
wonderful, inexplicably increasing my desire. 

"Big brother, please!!!!!" 

With that, he finally lifted his face from my chest and assumed the 
position above me. I eagerly guided him to my weeping womanhood, and as he 
kissed a tear from my face, he pressed into my sisterly body, his 
pleasurable entry slow and respectful yet still leaving me breathless by 
the time he was fully and snugly sheathed deep within me. 

I reached up for his shoulders and pulled him down upon me, his weight 
flattening my hard-ripped breasts. I needed to feel him within me. I 
needed to feel his body crushing mine into the mattress as he made love to 
me. 

Crush me he did. With his slow movements within me, his weight shifted 
continually upon me, creating a special rocking motion of its own, forcing 
me ever deeper into the mattress. It felt as if my big brother was 
smothering me with his illicit love, and from his naughty whispered 
comments in my ear, he was thoroughly enjoying every moment of the 
experience. 

...as was I, signaled by my heavy labored breaths, the air forced from my 
lungs by his crushing movements upon me, the smile upon my face. 

Clutching him fiercely with my legs and my arms, I bathed my loving twin 
with my own love, my lips parted wide in a silent cry, my eyes open to 
daylight yet seeing nothing but sparkling stars. My release triggered his 
which prolonged my own, and we rocked together intimately, performing the 
primal dance of lovers, our hearts pounding a beautiful rhythmic melody 
only we could hear or feel. 

*****

La Note was crowded as usual, and we waited outside on the sidewalk for a 
table to open up for us. My mind still reeled from our lovemaking, and it 
seemed as if our combined passion continued to slowly seep from me to 
anoint the crotch of my thong. 

"I hope I didn't hurt you this morning," my big brother said quietly with 
concern in his voice. We stood a good ten yards away from the other 
awaiting patrons, so it was quite unlikely that anyone would hear our 
conversation. 

I smiled at him, feeling a bit heady as I eagerly recalled the violent 
trembling of his body upon mine as he filled me with his illicit seed. "It 
was a bit hard to breathe," I admitted, "but I enjoyed every millisecond 
of it." 

"Good," he said with an audible breath of relief. 

"It is strange," I commented, "that you would be worried about hurting me 
like that given our end-of-semester festivities in the hotel." 

He actually blushed! My big brother actually blushed! 

At that very moment, we were called inside. After giving him a playful 
punch to the chest, I led the way, buying a precious few extra seconds for 
my fraternal twin to regain his composure before stepping into the small, 
crowded restaurant. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 18
by WFEATHER ©

I returned from classes, eager to just flop on the sofa and watch some 
mind-numbing TV for a while before my big brother returned from his 
college campus. I paused inside the doorway to our apartment building to 
check the mail, and was surprised to see a letter from my mother addressed 
directly to me. 

A few minutes later, as I sat on the sofa with some music videos playing 
on the television, I opened the envelope. Inside was a Frederick's of 
Hollywood gift card, as well as a short note:

"I realized while you were home for the holidays just how much of a 
stunning young woman you have become, and although you denied it when I 
asked, I'm sure that you must have a boyfriend. So here is a chance to buy 
something daring to surprise him. I hope you're still on the pill; if not, 
at least please buy some condoms so the surprise does not turn into a 
potential nightmare for you and the wonderful life you have ahead." 

Even though no one could see me, I blushed profusely. If only my mother 
knew just who would be seeing and enjoying such a "surprise" thanks to her 
unexpected generosity!!! 

I rushed to my bedroom, brought the laptop out of Sleep mode, and started 
shopping. Just the act of specifically shopping with my big brother's 
surprise in mind caused me to feel rather warm somewhere other than my 
face, and I was not at all embarrassed to feel warm in that part of my 
body. I finally made my purchase and closed the laptop just as I heard my 
big brother return to our loving abode. I went to greet him, melting into 
his hold as we kissed warmly. 

*****

My big brother's surprise finally arrived on a Friday, which was just 
perfect: I next worked late afternoon to midnight on Saturday, and his 
next shift was Saturday evening, so we could spend all of Friday night 
doing naughty things if we so chose and still have some time to sleep 
together (literally, just sleep) Saturday morning. 

I had a strong suspicion that we would so choose!!! 

I had until about 8PM to prepare before my big brother would return from 
work. I showered and shaved, applied a little make-up, brushed my hair, 
then streaked to my bedroom. 

Upon the bed, the mint-colored lingerie awaited: a lace-accented satin 
flyaway babydoll with a matching crotchless g-string. I eagerly dressed, 
admiring myself in the mirror mounted on the inside of the closet door, 
quite impressed with the image of femininity reflected back at me. 

I checked the clock on the dresser, then added a slight hint of perfume, 
something I rarely ever do. I then went around the apartment, lighting 
numerous candles in the living room and turning off all the other lights. 
After selecting a CD of slow instrumentals of romantic songs, soft music 
soon filled the dimly-lit living room. As my big brother and I were both 
underage, there was unfortunately not any wine to add to the experience I 
wanted to present for my fraternal twin, so instead I poured two glasses 
of sparkling grape juice, one of his favorites, and purposely waited in 
the kitchen for his return. 

Perhaps three songs later, I heard a key slipping into the lock. I took 
both glasses with me and stepped into the living room, into the full 
illumination of the candlelight, just as a very special person stepped 
into the apartment, his eyes wide at the atmosphere I had created 
especially for him. Then his eyes began to adjust to the dim lighting, and 
I felt a warm tingle within me as I saw his lips begin to curl upward in 
an appreciative smile, his eyes clearly drinking in the sight of his 
scantily-clad baby sister. 

"Welcome home, big brother," I said softly, perhaps too softly for him to 
hear. He finally closed and locked the door, shutting out the outside 
world. Setting down his backpack by the door and soon topping it with his 
heavy jacket, he slowly approached, and I stood my ground, a drink in each 
hand, smiling lovingly as I awaited him. 

Carefully, he took a glass from me, then we shared a long, slow kiss. 
Amazingly, we never spilled our drinks. Even though there was no alcohol 
in the apartment, I felt rather heady from the kiss, from his free hand 
gently stroking my breast. 

A song ended, as did our kiss. We gazed deep into each other's eyes in 
silence and, moving as one, we intertwined our arms and drank slowly, our 
free hands gently caressing each other. 

"I feel a bit overdressed," my twin finally said quietly, as if simply 
speaking would pervert the romantic atmosphere I had created for him. 

"I don't mind," I replied, unwinding my arm from his and taking his empty 
glass from him. "Stay there, and I'll return to undress you myself." He 
smiled at my wink and my giggle. 

A few moments later, I returned, stepping immediately into my fraternal 
twin's outstretched arms. The hug was long and tender as we swayed to the 
rhythm of the music, and eventually, we were slow dancing, our hearts in 
sync with the gentle music, my big brother's love seeming to flow through 
me as if it had replaced my own blood. 

"I still feel overdressed," he whispered. 

"Why should you feel bad about that?" I countered just as quietly. "I'm 
the one wearing lingerie!" 

We shared a soft laugh and a hug, then I stepped back a bit and began to 
undress my fraternal twin. My hands slipped up underneath his t-shirt to 
gently scratch his chest, then I withdrew my hands and slowly began to 
unbutton the garment, starting with the top button and working downward, 
gently placing a kiss upon the newly-exposed skin as I worked my way down 
his torso. I smiled to myself as my ears noted the quickening sounds of 
breathing coming from above me. 

The shirt completely unbuttoned, I reversed course, slowly rising, gently 
licking my way up my big brother's torso, up his neck, licking his lips. 
As I licked inside his mouth, I pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and 
given that it took a few moments for his arms to again envelope me, I knew 
the garment had been banished to the floor. 

"Is that better?" I finally asked. "Do you still feel overdressed?" 

"A little." 

I kissed my way down his torso again, kissing his manhood through his 
jeans when I finally knelt again before him. For a moment, I thought of 
our BDSM interests, and thought it somewhat significant that I was 
kneeling before my big brother, the one who had dominated me and who 
certainly would master me again. I wondered if he was thinking as well 
about our end-of-semester stay at a hotel near Little Tokyo in San 
Francisco. 

"Submitting to me again?" he asked quietly. 

He was indeed thinking the same thing I was thinking. "Always, Master." 

My domineering big brother clearly considered it for a moment. "Not 
tonight," he said. "You clearly had something more romantic in mind 
tonight." 

I nodded my acknowledgement, gazing up into the same eyes I saw every time 
I looked into a mirror. I moved back a bit and slowly worked my way down 
his legs, kneading him through his jeans until I reached his feet. Fully 
hunched over, I used my teeth to try untying his shoelaces, and enjoyed 
his laugh descending upon me. But I finally gave up, resorting to my 
hands, which made my work much, much easier. 

The shoes removed and cast aside, I reached around behind my twin's feet 
to retrieve his discarded shirt and cast the garment aside. Then I 
returned my attention to the socks, and he assisted me by lifting each 
foot in turn so I could remove each sock and set it upon the growing pile 
of clothing. I then kissed each foot, licking the top of each toe as I 
caressed his ankles. 

Slowly, I worked back up my big brother's legs until I was kneeling before 
him again. I kissed the bulge at the front of his jeans as I unbuckled his 
belt, then helped him to slip out of both his jeans and his briefs 
simultaneously. 

Standing nude before me, my big brother looked longingly down upon me. He 
held back my hair as I slowly ingested him, taking in his meaty manhood, 
savoring the sweet drops leaking slowly from the tip. I felt an intense 
thrill, slowly moving my head back and forth around my own twin's 
significant erection. 

"My sweet baby sister," I heard softly from above me. Looking up into my 
big brother's eyes while my lips were wrapped snugly around his male 
anatomy must have presented a most obscene view for him. He smiled 
sweetly, lovingly stroking my cheek. 

This was not about making him pour his essence down my throat. This was 
about slow, long-lasting pleasure and love, about enjoying the intimacy of 
the overall experience. Several songs came and went, and although my knees 
and my jaw ached tremendously, I continued to please him, his sighs and 
his whispered comments spurning me on and adding to the simmering arousal 
within me. 

I wondered how this evening would end. In my mind's eye, I saw myself on 
the floor on my hands and knees, with my big brother clutching me tightly 
as he lay upon my back, volleying his seed into my body. Another scenario 
ended with me on my knees, my face covered with his incestuous love. Still 
a third possibility involved us relaxing in a bubble bath together, my big 
brother masturbating me to completion as I leaned back against him. 

Slipping from me at last, he knelt before me and gave me a long hug as my 
hand continued to stroke him, massaging my own saliva into his hardened 
manhood. I could feel him pulsing in my hands, leaking upon me. I smiled 
as I heard and felt his ragged breath against my neck. 

"Make love to me," I finally pleaded softly into his ear. 

A few moments later, I was on my hands and knees, my body being slowly and 
lovingly penetrated by my big brother. We both moaned softly as one being 
at the initial joining, and when he was fully sheathed within me, he bent 
over me, his arms wrapped snugly around me, breathing sexily into my ear. 
Thanks to the crotchless g-string, it felt so seductive yet so naughty to 
be wearing something yet still be filled by the forbidden phallus. 

Our lovemaking was slow and romantic. I was on my hands and knees for a 
while before I was hauled upward with my back against my big brother's 
chest; he unhooked the front of my babydoll and kneaded my breasts 
directly as we began to move faster and faster against each other until, 
at last, I was pushed back to my hands and knees, and he rutted into me 
rapidly with his hands fiercely gripping my hips, our voices joining in a 
lovers' duet. 

At last, clutching me tightly as he lay upon my back, my sisterly body was 
filled by the incestuous love I so desired. We trembled together like that 
for some time, basking in our love and admiration for each other. 

I never achieved orgasm while my big brother filled me, but he made it up 
to me in bed, one arm securely holding me from behind as he masturbated me 
to several breathy releases. It finally ended with a long, heartfelt 
cuddle as we drifted off to sleep together, sweet smiles upon our faces. 


Twins in College Ch. 19
by WFEATHER ©

In the past, Valentine's Day between my big brother and me had been 
celebrated rather simply, with just an exchange of greeting cards and 
perhaps a hug. 

In 2006, however, Valentine's Day would have a much more intimate 
significance for us both, as for the first time on this particular day, my 
big brother was also my dearest lover. 

Since before Halloween, I had been considering how to make Valentine's Day 
a very special one, a day which we would remember for millennia to come. 
Unfortunately, Valentine's Day was on a Tuesday, which meant that if we 
wanted to spend an entire day alone, we would need to skip all our classes 
that day and also call off from work. 

However, we decided that we should indeed take the entire day off, as it 
was our first Valentine's Day together as a young couple deeply and madly 
in love. Thinking fondly of our wonderful and memorable end-of-semester 
celebration in December, I suggested that we return to the same hotel near 
Little Tokyo, and – not surprisingly – my big brother wholeheartedly 
agreed and announced that he would make the appropriate arrangements. 

Neither of us had to suggest it: We both instinctively knew that I would 
be bound and beaten again for Valentine's Day. Instead of studying, I 
actually sat at my desk on several occasions, masturbating to thoughts of 
restraint and pain, imagining the exposed forbidden phallus pulsing 
strongly and menacingly before me in reaction to my struggles and my 
cries. When I should have been writing short opinion papers for a class, I 
was instead scouring the Internet for stories or video clips or sound 
files featuring young female slaves being teased and tormented while in 
various forms of restraint. 

Thinking ahead to the upcoming visit to the hotel, however, we would not 
have just one evening together. This time, I would be at my domineering 
twin's mercy for at least an entire day, and I was desperately looking 
forward to that experience. 

As the big day approached, we chatted about the upcoming experience more 
and more. In bed, my big brother would cuddle me, touching me lovingly 
while whispering into my ear how he would enjoy seeing me bound again 
before him, fighting the bonds as he alternated between giving me pain and 
giving me pleasure, making me cry out for more of each. And as I drifted 
off to sleep, my mind would be filled of those very same images, and there 
was almost certainly a smile upon my face as slumber at last overtook me. 

The big question which had been gnawing at the back of my mind for months, 
however, was what gift I could possibly give to my big brother that he 
would truly appreciate and which would be a significant symbol of our 
deepening relationship. I had already given him my heart, which he 
cherished with every touch, every glance. I had already given him my body, 
which he claimed almost daily to the unbridled delight of us both. I had 
even already given him one of my thongs, which was still mounted like a 
trophy on the wall of his bedroom. 

What more could I possibly give him? 

At last, the idea came to me. I went online, spent some time searching for 
the right place, made a number of phone calls to compare services and 
prices, and eagerly scheduled an appointment. 

*****

We both returned from our respective colleges to the apartment at the same 
time, stepping off different cars of the same BART train and grinning 
knowingly to each other as we ascended the stairs to the street level. 
Once safely inside our apartment, we kissed eagerly, a kiss which hinted 
at the mini-vacation ahead. 

My big brother finished his packing while I made dinner: salad and 
leftover pizza. We ate somewhat quickly, my bare feet nestled in his lap. 
While he washed and put away the dishes, I completed the last of my 
packing. With one final hug and his kiss to my forehead, we embarked. 

When we at last emerged from underground, nighttime had definitely fallen 
upon San Francisco, and the city lights looked rather pretty. Love was 
certainly in the air, quite noticeable by the Valentine's Day 
advertisements in the store windows and the greater-than-usual number of 
couples holding hands or – in the case of a young teenage couple two rows 
in front of us on the bus to Little Tokyo – making out without shame. I 
wished desperately that I could have kissed my big brother at that moment 
or simply held his hand, but I contented myself with pressing my thigh 
against his as I looked out the window. 

We stepped off the bus at last. Recognizing the neighborhood, it was easy 
to find our way to the hotel. And just as we were about to enter the 
hotel, my big brother stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. 

"You remember the safeword and the safesound we agreed upon, right?" he 
asked, his tone serious for once. 

"Yes," I replied with a nod, my tone equally serious. "'Hentai' and the 
sound of a siren." 

"Good. Now, once we step into the hotel, I am no longer your big brother 
and you are no longer my baby sister – at least, not until we return home 
on Wednesday." 

I nodded again. "I am your slave and you are my Master. I am yours to 
command and use as you see fit." 

"That's right. Are you ready for this, baby sister?" 

I smiled. Despite the deep love and the intense trust I felt for him, 
despite our previous experience with BDSM, I was a little nervous, which 
somewhat surprised me. I nodded. 

"I'm ready for this, big brother. I'm ready to be your slave. I want to be 
your slave." 

"Okay, then." He held the door open for me, and I stepped into the hotel, 
and thus, at last, I stepped into my eagerly-anticipated role. 

*****

I was amazed to be standing in the exact same room my big brother – my 
Master – and I had shared at the hotel for our end-of-semester 
mini-vacation. Everything was the same with the exception of the 
television set, which now had a built-in DVD player. "We could go to that 
video store in Little Tokyo and buy some anime to watch," I suggested, 
"perhaps some tentacle-sex hentai." 

"I think I'd rather watch you," my Master replied with a lecherous smile, 
"especially as you struggle for me." 

We did not engage in bondage play immediately. Instead, my Master sat in 
one of the chairs at the table, and I sat in his lap, facing him. If we 
were not wearing clothes, it would have been a nice position for slowly 
making love to him, or to simply have him filling me, each of us calmly 
motionless, as we held each other. Instead, we shared numerous kisses as 
our hands explored each other, as if we were two young teens each 
exploring the opposite sex for the very first time. Despite the intimate 
familiarity inherent with our relationship, it added a sense of (false) 
innocence to the loving atmosphere within our hotel room. 

"Stand," he finally instructed me, and I reluctantly complied, standing 
beside him. I wore a black skirt, baby blue blouse, white bra and thong, 
white low socks, and baby blue tennis shoes. My only other adornments were 
the usual small hoop earrings. 

"Strip." 

That command I fulfilled eagerly, although it took a lot of willpower to 
prevent myself from smiling with anticipation and ripping the clothes from 
my own bodt as I complied. I felt proud that my own twin brother – my 
Master – found my body so attractive, proud that my Master lusted for me, 
proud that my Master would ultimately use me for his own pleasure. 

Wearing only the earrings, I stood once again, my hands at my sides. "Part 
your legs, shoulder width," he ordered, and I obeyed instantly, 
instinctively clasping my hands behind me. Then he reached out and stroked 
my bare sex, his thumb brushing along the thin horizontal line of 
closely-cut pubic hair – my "third eyebrow," as he called it – which I had 
begun to sport since the beginning of the year. I sighed contentedly, 
closing my eyes, enjoying my Master's gentle touches. He continued to 
stroke me brazenly, and I rocked slowly against his hand and mewled softly 
as he extracted the wet love from my body. 

"Kneel." I obeyed again, saddened that his hand would no longer be 
touching me so intimately. But then he held the same hand to my lips, and 
I took my time in gently cleaning him, licking my own desire from him, 
savoring my own taste, and I rediscovered the reason why he likes to eat 
me. 

"Give me your thong and your bra." I retrieved the requested undergarments 
from the pile of clothes on the floor and handed them to my Master. Then, 
he surprised me by placing them on the windowsill, on the other side of 
the heavy red curtain, in the corner of the window, so that they were well 
out of my reach. 

"Get dressed. We're going for a walk." That statement startled me. 

Our walk was an unusual one for me. A few times previously, I had been out 
in public without wearing a bra, so that did not really bother me, 
especially since I also wore a heavy jacket. But to be out in public 
without any underwear whatsoever certainly made me feel uncomfortable. By 
its design, a thong inherently does not provide much coverage, but not 
wearing anything at all under my skirt made me feel truly vulnerable. 
Although the breeze was almost negligible, I could feel the cool air 
caressing my body where it should not be possible to be caressed in 
public, and I irrationally feared a sudden gust of strong wind blowing up 
my skirt and exposing me to the few passersby. 

"Are you nervous?" my Master asked, a slight hint of laughter in his 
voice. 

"Yes, Master," I replied quietly. 

"Good." 

We found a small coffee shop, a cozy place with the feel of a mom-'n'-pop 
operation. There were only a few customers inside, almost all of Asian 
descent. I sat at a table by the front window and waited for my Master to 
order our drinks. 

Sitting alone, I had a few moments to think, to reminisce about our 
previous stay at the hotel and anticipate the events of the current stay. 
My thoughts created a notable warmth and dampness at the base of my torso, 
and that concerned me a little, as I did not have a thong to contain the 
passion which may trickle from my body, which would thus create a wet spot 
upon my skirt. 

My Master returned with our drinks and sat across the small table from me, 
his legs brushing against mine. We slowly sipped our drinks for a long 
time, neither of us speaking until we were both finished. It was a 
comfortable silence, highlighted by the feel of my Master's legs touching 
mine. 

"My sister, my slave," he finally whispered. His eyes spoke volumes of the 
love he felt for me, causing my heart to swell within my chest and beat a 
little faster. 

"My brother, my Master," I whispered in reply, sliding my legs against 
his. 

"Let's go play." 

I simply nodded with a smile. 

*****

"No restraints tonight," my Master informed me, "other than my commands 
and your desire." 

I again stood naked before my dominant twin, enjoying how his gaze 
scrutinized my body as he slowly circled me, inspecting me. I have long 
felt my breasts are my best assets, and felt a special thrill each time 
his wandering eyes lingered upon my chest. I was definitely a little 
disappointed, however, that my Master was still fully clothed, for I would 
have enjoyed gazing upon his nudity as well. But his clothing could not 
truly hide his erection, as it created a noticeable bulge at the front of 
his jeans. 

Eventually, as he stood behind me, my Master pressed himself against me, 
his hands cupping my breasts and squeezing gently. Instinctively, I placed 
my hands over his. 

"No," he said softly but firmly into my ear. "Play with yourself. Use both 
hands. I'll take care of your chest." 

"Yes, Master." My eyes closed, I lost myself in our combined touches upon 
my body. A good fifteen minutes must have passed as we both slowly fondled 
my body. Small rivulets of passion meandered down my thighs while soft 
happy sounds escaped my upper lips. 

"I can hear you fingering yourself," he noted with a whisper in my ear. 
"It's a nice sound. It's a really beautiful sound. Can you hear it?" 

I could indeed hear the slight sloshing sounds as I continually thrust two 
fingers into my own body. "Yes, Master, I can hear it. It sounds dirty, 
but I like it." 

"Then keep doing it." He sat on the bed, unzipped his jeans, and brought 
his significant manhood out through the resulting hole. "Suck me." 

"Gladly, Master!" I had to wonder, Did that sound too needful, too 
desperate, too horny? 

A heartbeat later, I knelt between his denim-clad thighs, my lips forming 
a tight seal as my head was slowly pushed further and further down the 
hearty, magnificent phallus. As I suckled the masculine anatomy, I was all 
too aware of its symbolism. I was also very keenly aware of its power, 
surging behind the symbolism, gathering behind the hair-thin dam of will 
and waiting to unleash its fury either upon me or within me. 

I smiled at that thought, and my body cried with profuse happiness, the 
sloshing sounds suddenly even more prominent, at least to my ears. 

I could feel the blood flowing within, reinforcing his manhood, further 
strengthening that symbolism and continuing to heighten its power. In this 
state, it was as stern as a stereotypical drill sergeant, as angry as a 
Class 5 tornado, as strong as titanium, as hot as the sun itself. 

My Master filled my mouth, holding my head in place, causing me to gag. 
Yet I continued to finger myself, continued to cause my passion to spill 
down my thighs. Slowly, he allowed my head to ascend his solid manhood, 
allowed me to breathe without obstruction for several seconds, then he 
pushed my head back down upon his thick shaft. 

There was no hurry from either of us. I maintained a good steady level of 
arousal while my Master ensured I would please him for a long, long time. 
Neither of us were approaching a point of no return, but that did not 
matter – all that mattered was that we were together, alone, creating new 
memories in a place where other memories had been made previously. 

And many more memories would be created here in the seemingly endless 
hours ahead. 

*****

My hair still damp from our late-night shower together, I turned off the 
light and cautiously approached the king-size bed. 

"Go open the curtains," my Master commanded from underneath the covers. 

That seemed like a rather odd request to me, but, like a good slave, I 
obeyed. As I parted the curtains, I admired the lights of the city spread 
out before me. It was a most beautiful sight, and I stood there for 
several minutes, simply gazing across San Francisco, once again thankful 
that we had both chosen to come to the Bay Area for college. 

"Are you going to stand at the window all night long?" 

Only then did I consciously recognize that I was naked, potentially 
exposing my body to countless unseen eyes in the low buildings across the 
street. For just a second, I froze in fear – what should a young college 
girl do in such a situation? But then, realizing that any voyeurs would 
have already enjoyed seeing me in the flesh for several minutes, I simply 
backed slowly away from the window, retreating into the shadows of the 
hotel room, retreating to the bed, retreating to the protective love of my 
Master's hold as we together slipped into peaceful slumber. 

*****

Barely stifling an impassioned cry, I fell upon my big brother, my Master, 
trembling mightily from the intense climax, the first I had experienced in 
nearly a full week. 

It was a beautiful Valentine's Day morning. I was hunched upon my Master, 
mewing softly in post-orgasmic bliss, the daylight passing through the 
parted curtains to illuminate the memorable hotel room, the forbidden 
phallus still hard and pulsing inside my sisterly body, his hands gently 
stroking my hair and my sweat-covered back as I breathed heavily into his 
neck. I was making love to the one I loved, which was what really made it 
a beautiful Valentine's Day morning. 

"Rise up," he finally commanded, and I obeyed, straddling my Master as he 
impaled me wonderfully. I clenched around him, and felt his twitch of 
response. His hands reached up to my chest, and he gently tugged at each 
nipple, sending shockwaves emanating outward from those rock-hard points. 

"Make yourself cum for me." As he applied steadily-growing pressure upon 
my hard nubs, I fingered my clitoris quickly, my heart rate and my 
breathing increasing yet again. The pressure turned from pleasant to 
uncomfortable to aching to painful, and I cried out softly, strumming my 
clitoris faster and faster to counteract the twin points of pain being 
inflicted upon me by my domineering twin. 

"Cum for me. Cum for your Master." 

I rocked back and forth upon him, causing the fiery invader to shift 
repeatedly within me and increase my own arousal. My eyes were open, but 
my vision was clouded by lust, which enabled my brain to focus more upon 
the polar sensations of pain and pleasure. The complete opposite ends of 
the sensation spectrum battled for supremacy. 

Pleasure won. 

I suddenly felt as if I was being crushed, and was acutely aware of the 
powerful torrents of incestuous love surging high within my body. I gasped 
for air, but the inhalations were much warmer than usual, and only as I 
finally calmed from the powerful climax did I realize that my Master was 
kissing me fiercely while seizing me in a bear hug. He shook violently 
through his own orgasmic storm, rocking me wonderfully, and I clung to 
him, both admiring him in his greatest moment of vulnerability and 
partaking in the same vulnerability as I rode him throughout the powerful 
ordeal. 

Both of us gasping loudly, we hugged tightly, the aftershocks felt by us 
both. The air certainly smelt of our intense passion, and as my vision 
began to clear, I realized something significant:

The curtains were still parted wide. 

I did not care, and that realization surprised me. 

Not long afterward, my Master's stomach gurgled – softly, but definitely 
noticeable. We both giggled and shared a sweet kiss, then, finally, I 
disengaged from the forbidden phallus, sighing sadly as our physical 
connection was terminated. 

"Shall I go get breakfast for you, Master?" I asked, standing beside the 
bed, in view of the window, my head and upper body certainly visible to 
anyone in the low building across the street who might be looking up at 
our window. 

"Let's go together," he replied. "But I think we'd better shower first, so 
our loving scent won't scandalize everyone in the restaurant downstairs." 

*****

After breakfast, we returned to the small coffee shop we had visited the 
night before. Again, I wore neither bra nor thong, but instead of feeling 
nervous and embarrassed about it, I felt free and uninhibited. Again, 
there was no breeze, so the only way anyone else would know that I was 
naked underneath my skirt would be to place a properly-angled mirror 
between my feet as I stood beside my Master waiting for the vehicles to 
pass through the intersection. 

We took our coffee with us this time, walking down to Little Tokyo itself. 
We finished the coffee and finally began to peruse some of the shops. The 
shop with the Japanese antiques and furniture really fascinated us both, 
and as we meandered, we imagined aloud how we would decorate a house with 
such items. Of course, such fine furniture and antiques carries a high 
price tag, and we could only afford to decorate in such a manner by first 
winning the Mega Millions or the Super Lotto Plus. 

In time, however, we returned to our loving hotel room. My Master had 
barely closed the door behind him when he ordered me to strip again. This 
time, the curtains were closed, so I did not need to be concerned about 
exposing either my naked body or our incestuous love to the outside world. 


Of course, what would likely have been even more scandalous to a voyeur 
would have been seeing me willingly being whipped and spanked and whatever 
else my domineering twin had planned for me. 



From the inside pocket of his heavy jacket, my Master produced the same 
"Baby" collar I had worn during our previous visit to this hotel. I 
smiled, reliving the moment when he had first placed that collar around my 
neck even as he placed it around my neck for the second time. 

"On your stomach on the bed," I was instructed, and I moved to comply as 
my Master went to his small suitcase. I watched as he produced four 
leather cuffs connected to what appeared to be a four-way snap-clip 
system. I recalled having seen something like it previously, and it took 
me a moment to remember that I had seen it on the Web site of a San 
Francisco bondage supply shop, listed as a simple method to hogtie a 
slave. 

Had my Master perhaps gone to that very shop without me? 

Faster than I would have liked, I was essentially hogtied, with extremely 
limited movement of wrists and ankles – perhaps two inches at most. I felt 
stretched, my torso arched to accommodate the position. But then my Master 
retrieved something new: a classic red ball gag. 

I was soon drooling onto the bedspread as my domineering twin sat beside 
me on the bed. He stroked my hair and caressed my taut body, and I closed 
my eyes and enjoyed his touches. 

Amazingly, that was all we did for quite some time. I was petted and 
fondled, and my only response was to drool and occasionally whimper or 
sigh happily. It was embarrassing to drool, to essentially need a bib at 
my age, and it did bring a slight blush to my cheeks, but, overall, I 
enjoyed the restriction, even as my muscles ached and burned from being 
set into the same position for such a long period of time. And when I was 
released from my bonds, my entire body was treated to a loving massage, 
helping to ease my aches and warm my soul. 

*****

After lunch in the hotel restaurant, we returned to our room. I was still 
wearing the "Baby" collar, and soon that and my tiny earrings were all I 
wore, as I stood proudly before my big brother, my Master, avidly awaiting 
his next instruction. 

He approached me at last, and we held each other in a comfortable, warm 
embrace. I was becoming more and more accustomed to being naked while he 
was fully clothed, and in my mind it made me feel even more like a slave, 
my nudity allowing him easy access to my entire body for the inflicting of 
pleasure or the inflicting of pain. 

"To think that my baby sister is willing to submit to me," he finally 
whispered, "that fills me with great pride, and honor. And that's just one 
of the reasons I love you." I simply kissed his cheek, not knowing how 
else to respond to his beautiful words. 

"But now, I need to hurt you." 

I looked into his eyes and smiled. I was suddenly more nervous than I had 
anticipated, even though I had been through a similar ordeal some two 
months previous to this. 

Still, I wanted this. To some extent, I needed this. "Hurt me, Master," I 
requested. "Hurt me and use me, please." 

We shared a kiss. It began softly and lovingly, but grew more heated, more 
needful. We were soon groping each other. I could feel the 
all-too-familiar manhood lengthening, solidifying; I was almost certain 
that he could feel the hardening points upon my breasts. 

We were both breathless when my Master stepped away from me and sat upon 
bed, leaning back against the headboard. "Across my lap," he ordered, and 
I scrambled into position, my nervousness now greatly reduced, my 
breathing and heart rate still elevated from the heated embrace we had 
just shared. 

He wasted no time in spanking me, and he did not even bother to start 
slowly. The sting of the first blow to my rear had barely registered in my 
brain before his hand befell me again. In the space of a few heartbeats, I 
was squirming across my Master's thighs, each blow stinging and warming my 
backside as he punished my ass harder and faster, harder and faster. I 
grunted, I groaned, I yelped, and I did not want the ordeal to stop. It 
hurt, yet I knew that my body was dripping upon my Master's denim-clad 
thighs. 

"My dirty little slave loves being spanked, huh?!?" my domineering twin 
challenged me. "You are such a slut, a horny bitch who gets off on being 
kinky with her own big brother! And don't think I'm not aware of your 
pussy drooling on my legs, you damn slave!" 

He continued to spank me and verbally abuse me. The way I squirmed kept 
bringing such pleasure to my clitoris that I was afraid I would climax 
upon him even as he was spanking me. I was crying out with almost every 
blow, definitely feeling the pain and the heat his hand was generating and 
wanting more. 

But suddenly, he stopped. I was panting heavily between moans, still 
sliding my clitoris across my Master's thigh. 

My mouth opened in a silence scream as a new, more intense pain graced my 
rear. Where did that paddle come from!?! I thought with panic. 

He waited a few seconds, clearly allowing the new sensation to sink in for 
me, then he struck me again. I did not cry this time, but the pain was 
intense as the blow fell upon my spanking-reddened lower cheeks. 

I was paddled again, and tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill 
down my cheeks. 

Fortunately, my face was buried in the bed, for with the next painful 
strike, I screamed, and I simply could not stop screaming. I was aware of 
my Master's free hand gently scratching the back of my head as if I was a 
young kitten, but my senses were so acutely focused upon the descending 
paddle as it continued to beat me, punish me, hurt me. 

Yet, through it all, I felt loved. My Master, my brother, loved me so much 
that it hurt me. 

And I continued to scream into the bed even after the paddling had ended. 

At last, when my vocalizations had finally subsided to simply loud 
whimpers, I felt my Master maneuvering me, and I was certainly in no 
condition to disallow it. He was soon on his back on the bed, and I was 
stretched out upon him, crying upon his shoulder and neck as his hands 
caressed my body, purposely avoiding my still-fiery ass. 

"You did well, Vicki," he whispered again and again. "You did well." 

The last of my tears were tumbling down my wet cheeks when I kissed him. 
Despite the painful experience which had just passed, despite the pain I 
still felt, our kiss was slow and loving, and sealed the bond between us. 

*****

After the shower, I stepped out of the bathroom to find my Master awaiting 
me with a towel. He took his time carefully drying me, and it was so 
different from the activity which had taken place in this very same hotel 
room earlier in the afternoon. 

Two acts of love, at completely different ends of the scale. 

He was still fully clothed, although he had changed to another pair of 
jeans. He was properly dressed, whereas I wore only my earrings. Yet I did 
not feel awkward or embarrassed. 

Ultimately, the towel was banished to the floor, and the embrace we shared 
was long and calming, chasing away the final remnants of discomfort in my 
lower cheeks. 

"My beautiful baby sister," he said softly before placing a kiss at the 
center of my forehead. 

I clutched him tightly, my head upon his shoulder. I just needed to hold 
him, needed to be held. And as we stood there, I was very aware of the 
nearly-tangible love filling our hotel room. 

*****

My Master was still properly dressed and I was still properly naked, 
having only added the "Baby" collar following the shower. We sat together 
on the bed, both of us leaning back against the headboard, watching the 
hotel's porn channel. 

Ever since I had first truly "seen" the female body through my big 
brother's eyes following one of my intramural volleyball matches the 
previous semester, I had more of an appreciation for the female form. As a 
beautiful college girl crossed campus, my eyes might track her, noting her 
curves, digesting the bounce of her hair and her breasts as she walked on 
long, proud, bare, well-toned legs. While my big brother and I had 
occasionally listened to sound files of women enjoying sex, I found myself 
becoming even more attuned to the sounds of a woman's passion. 

We watched as a pair of young women tenderly touched and kissed upon a 
furry rug before an active fireplace. Both wore jeans and sweatshirts and 
socks, both had lengthy black hair tied back into a ponytail, and, judging 
from the sweet smiles and the sparkling eyes, both appeared to genuinely 
love each other. 

"They truly are beautiful," I whispered absently as I leaned against my 
Master, an arm draped behind his neck. 

"They are," he agreed, "and they certainly look like long-time lovers." 

"Do they turn you on?" I asked, genuinely curious. 

"Two girls being intimate? Of course!" He patted my bare thigh. "But I 
would much prefer to watch a particular baby sister." 

"Alone or with some other girl?" 

"Yes," was my Master's immediate response, no hesitation required. 

I could only laugh quietly at that. "Would you want to participate or 
simply watch?" 

One of the beauties on the screen rolled the other to her back upon the 
carpet, maintaining lips-to-lips contact. "I'd be content either way," my 
Master replied honestly, "but unless the other girl was familiar with and 
very accepting of our relationship, I couldn't really touch you at all if 
I were to participate." 

I had not considered that, but decided to turn the tables slightly. "In 
that case," I said, stroking his chest as I spoke, "we'll just first tie 
you to a chair or something to ensure that you can't touch me. How does 
that sound?" 

His response was a kiss, with his hand moving from my thigh to my sex. 

We watched as the two women on the screen took plenty of time in slowly 
undressing each other, constantly touching and kissing throughout the 
foreplay. Through several positions, they languidly masturbated and ate 
each other to several orgasms. And through the hour or so of this 
particular scene, my Master masturbated me, able to keep me on the edge 
until, as the scene finally ended and the two beauties on-screen reached a 
noisy climax together, he touched me in just the right places to grant me 
the release he had been denying me. 

He held me through my post-orgasmic bliss, stroking me and caressing me as 
I trembled from the aftereffects and whimpered into his neck. The next 
scene played, another slowly-progressing lesbian scene between two exotic 
beauties, but neither of us paid the scene much attention. Instead, we 
simply cuddled, treasuring the loving moment together. 

*****

We returned from dinner in Little Tokyo and we both knew: It was time to 
exchange gifts. Minutes later, we sat on the bed, and I gave my Master, my 
big brother, my Valentine's Day gift to him. 

He smiled as he read the card and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Then he 
carefully opened the red-and-white heart-print box and lifted out the item 
inside. He peeled back the bubble wrap, and gave a soft gasp of pleasant 
surprise. 

He held in his hands a framed picture of me in a full wedding dress, 
holding a bouquet of red roses and smiling sweetly at the camera, at him. 

"It's wonderful," he breathed, his fingers stroking the glass covering my 
face in the photo. "It's perfect." 

The hug he gave me was fierce and heartfelt. I had known my big brother 
would truly adore this particular gift. Now, I knew that it was definitely 
worth the price to rent the wedding dress and buy the roses and pay all 
the fees associated with the photo shoot and the framing. 

"I know we sometimes say we're already just like husband and wife," I 
whispered into his ear, "so perhaps this will bring us one step closer to 
being an actual married couple." 

The kiss was long and loving, just as heartfelt as the hugs both before 
and afterward. "My sweetest baby sister," he whispered into my ear. "I 
love you so, so much!" 

We held each other for a long, long time before I was handed my 
Valentine's Day gift. From its shape and size, it was clearly jewelry, 
most likely a necklace, which I found slightly odd given that I very 
rarely ever wear jewelry other than my tiny hoop earrings. 

I slipped the card from its red envelope. "I love to make love to you..." 
the front read, and inside: "...but I love to love you even more." 

"I feel the same," I said with a smile, and kissed his cheek, leaving 
behind a slight impression of my red-painted lips. 

I then unwrapped the gift, and it was indeed a small, elongated jewelry 
box. Upon opening it, however, I was a bit surprised that it was not a 
necklace. I lifted it out of the jewelry box, and smiled at the 
thoughtfulness and symbolism. 

My mind flashed back to a discussion we had had in bed late one night 
shortly after our end-of-semester mini-vacation. My big brother had asked 
me if I were to become his full-time slave how I would like to be 
constantly reminded of my status. I had replied that a belly chain would 
be best: I would always feel it surrounding me to remind me that I 
belonged to him, yet it would not carry the social stigma which would call 
attention to either me or our illicit relationship. 

I gazed fondly upon the belly chain and its detachable charms: a heart, a 
crescent moon, a snowflake, and a pair of handcuffs. 

I hugged my big brother and Master fiercely. "Thank you!" I whispered 
repeatedly between kisses to his neck and cheek. He simply laughed and 
held me, clearly glad that I liked his gift so much. 

"While I would be honored to 'collar' you with the belly chain," my Master 
finally said, looking sincerely into my eyes, "it's not a decision to be 
taken lightly. Perhaps we're still far too early in our BDSM exploration 
to truly take this step. But I at least wanted you to have it, perhaps as 
a precursor to things to come." 

I nodded. "I know exactly what to do with it until it's time to fully 
submit to you," I said. 

Soon, we stood and put away the gifts. Then we embraced once again, 
Valentine's Day having turned from harsh love to soft love between us. 

"Wait here, big brother," I finally whispered. "I want to go prepare for 
you." 

"You don't need to prepare anything for me," he whispered, fingering the 
spaghetti strap on my little black dress. 

I simply lifted his hand away from my shoulder. "Please," I pleaded, "I 
want to do this for you." 

With a knowing smile, he nodded, giving me one more kiss to the forehead. 

When I emerged from the bathroom, my hair was tied back into a ponytail, 
my lips had been painted a prominent deep red, and I wore a Wonder Woman 
cami and panty outfit. Standing at the table and lighting a pair of 
candles, my big brother was wearing only the thong he had worn on our 
previous visit here. I smiled upon seeing my forbidden lover in such scant 
clothing, and for just a moment felt a big smug in the fact that, for 
once, I wore more clothing than him. 

He apparently had not heard me open the bathroom door, so I turned off the 
lights of our hotel room. That certainly attracted my big brother's 
attention, as he looked up. His eyes grew big and a smile stretched 
practically from ear to ear once he saw me. 

"From baby sister to Wonder Woman!" he commented with a jubilant laugh. "I 
can just imagine the roleplay possibilities here!" 

I was very quickly in my big brother's arms again, imagining myself in 
this very outfit, bound to a tree in a torrential rainstorm, struggling 
furiously, playing the role of a captured superheroine. But those thoughts 
were dispelled as I felt a familiar lengthening and hardening against me. 

"You're getting hard, you naughty boy," I whispered. "Does your baby 
sister turn you on? Or is it the thought of making love to Wonder Woman 
that has you so excited?" 

His hands seized my head and he kissed me, his tongue instantly 
penetrating me, his meaty manhood attempting to do the same via my navel. 
I surrendered my mouth to him, allowing my big brother to make love to my 
mouth as I closed my lips around his thrusting tongue. Gripping his 
exposed lower cheeks, I held him close, wiggling slightly from side to 
side across the forbidden phallus. 

Soon, I was able to wrest my head from the formidable grip. Despite 
gasping somewhat for air, I kissed him repeatedly, leaving a trail of red 
imprints from his lips to his chin to his neck to his shoulder and down 
his chest and stomach until I finally knelt before him. 

Caressing my big brother's sex through the pouch of his thong, I looked up 
in the candlelight at his sweet face. "Feed me your love," I pleaded 
softly. "Feed your baby sister." 

With his hands caressing my head, I revealed the prize, lowering the 
thong. It could have simply been my perception on this particular night, 
but the hearty erection appeared to be even longer and slightly wider than 
ever before, pulsing with a superb power. Like my own body, his body was 
dripping, and I brushed a fingertip across the tip of his manhood to 
collect some of his illicit love, then brought it to my lips, tasting the 
sweetness and closing my eyes to better savor the moment. 

"Feed me," I pleaded again, and I accepted my big brother's powerful 
erection into my eager mouth. 

My eyes still closed, virtually all my senses were highly attuned to the 
action taking place in my mouth. Kneeling in the position of submission 
before my big brother with my lips wrapped snugly around his meaty manhood 
felt right, natural, perfect. Keeping my eyes closed, I reveled in the 
feel of his familiar hands in my hair, and my heart swelled as he guided 
my head so he could make love to my mouth. 

"Sweet Vicki," I heard my big brother whisper from above me. "Look up at 
me." 

I opened my eyes and obeyed, noting the flame of love behind his eyes. 
"You mean so much to me," he whispered, "that I can't imagine my life 
without you. I love you, Vicki, I truly love you." 

I responded by squeezing my big brother's lower cheeks and twirling my 
tongue around his invading erection. I thought I felt him shudder 
slightly, and I definitely saw him smile. Then I set myself to the task of 
truly making love to him with my mouth, bobbing my head upon the forbidden 
phallus as my head was held and caressed sweetly. 

Slowly, the pace of my movements increased, but our collective desire 
increased at least twice as quickly. It was such a thrill to hear my big 
brother's breathing increasing in both volume and pace. And I realized 
that the overall situation had caused my body to moisten the panty of my 
Wonder Woman outfit. 

Finally at his breaking point, I was pushed away, my mouth suddenly 
emptied. "Feed me!" I pleaded as he wrapped a hand around his angry 
erection and pumped quickly. I closed my eyes and leaned forward with my 
mouth open as wide as possible, and nary a second later, I received my 
Valentine's Day dessert and ingested the sweetness once my big brother had 
no more to feed me. 

Dropping to his knees, he held me, his body trembling subtly following his 
climax. I was proud to be the one to bring such pleasure to him, and 
honored that he trusted me enough to make himself so vulnerable to me as I 
provided that pleasure. 

"You've been eating a lot of sugar lately," I finally commented. "Your 
incestuous love tastes even sweeter than usual." 

We laughed for a few moments before my big brother nudged me to my back 
upon the floor. Straddling my legs, he gazed upon me, showing absolutely 
no shame in simply looking at me as he returned his thong to its 
socially-acceptable position, and I felt absolutely no shame in being 
viewed with a mixture of love and lust by my own big brother. 

Reaching forward, I took my forbidden lover's hand and placed it upon my 
chest. We shared a smile and a loving gaze as his other hand joined its 
counterpart upon my body. As I caressed his thighs, he gently manipulated 
my breasts, his touches sending waves of desire emanating outward from 
each feminine swell. "So different," I whispered absently. 


"Different from what?" 

"Different from being spanked and paddled and bound earlier, although I 
found a strange pleasure in all that as well, even when I was screaming 
and crying from the pain." 

He seemed to think about that for a moment, then moved off me. "Come, 
Wonder Woman," he said, taking my hand and helping me to stand with him. 

"Is this beautiful young superheroine going to be restrained somehow and 
be forced to fight her bonds?" I asked with a smile, batting my eyes at my 
domineering twin. 

"'This beautiful young superheroine' is indeed going to be restrained," he 
replied, "but I highly doubt that she'll be fighting her bonds." 

Moments later, a fur-lined leather blindfold was placed over my eyes, 
robbing me of vision but enhancing every other sense to compensate for 
that exquisite loss. Over the next few minutes, my loving Master stood 
behind me and fondled my breasts, pausing a few times to pluck at my 
nipples through the thin garment, playing my hardened nubs as if they were 
violin strings. His handling of my body was affecting us both: The 
telltale warmth and wetness grew within the base of my torso as the 
telltale lengthening and hardening grew between us. 

"I want to feel you inside me," I admitted softly, breathily. 

"Not quite yet, slave," he responded. "I haven't even used the ropes yet." 


A few seconds later, I stood alone as my Master moved across the hotel 
room. I heard him rummaging, then shortly after that sound ceased, I felt 
his hand upon my shoulder, turning me around to face him. 

"Wonder Woman blindfolded," he thought aloud. "I don't recall ever seeing 
that on Super Friends when Cartoon Network was airing it several years 
ago." 

I smiled. "It was probably in an episode considered to be too racy for 
television. It's still locked away in a studio vault somewhere." 

I received a playful slap to the chest for that comment, and my smile grew 
into a grin. 

My grin faded as I was turned around again. 

Slowly, my Master wound rope around me, pinning my upper arms to my torso 
while also creating breast bondage. He soon created a sturdy knot behind 
me and brought the rope up over my left shoulder, winding it through the 
horizontal ropes above and below my breasts, pulling tightly to securely 
cinch everything together, then brought the remaining rope up over my 
right shoulder to tie the ends at my back. The cinching between my breasts 
was certainly confining, but in a very good way, although it did cause my 
top to scrunch up a bit. 

I was turned around again, and I knew without even needing to verify it 
visually that my Master was scrutinizing his handiwork. He clearly noticed 
how the cami had bunched up during the binding process, for he tugged 
gently here and there several times. 

"Quite worthy of a picture," he commented at last. "Too bad we don't have 
a camera with us." 

"Who would process the pictures for us?" I asked. "My being bound like 
this falls into the realm of sex, which cannot be processed by a 
mainstream company, especially not a one-hour place that probably has part 
of its processing machinery in plain public view." 

I thought I heard my Master shrug. "Then we need to invest in a digital 
camera." 

I filed that suggestion for later consideration as a potential birthday 
gift. 

"It's too bad that isn't a gold rope," he commented. "Imagine the picture 
that could be posted on the Internet... Wonder Woman captured and bound 
with her own rope!" 

I had to laugh at that comment, but was suddenly silenced by his mouth 
upon mine, his hands upon my chest, squeezing my confined breasts. While I 
still had the free use of my lower arms, I held him close, gently 
scratching at his back. 

He finally stepped away. "Next, the forearms." 

I was soon turned around again and instructed to bring my forearms 
together behind my back, an elbow in each upturned palm. I could not quite 
grip each elbow, but the position was good enough for my Master's 
intentions. Starting near my left elbow, a new rope was wrapped around 
both forearms, slowly cocooning them as he progressed toward my right 
elbow. The remaining rope was wrapped around my waist, run through several 
of the loops binding my forearms together, and tied off well away from 
potential prying fingers. 

I tested the ropework, and found that I had at most an inch of movement 
available to me, and that motion would cause the rope to dig into my lower 
stomach. 

My Master gripped my shoulders and placed his lips directly against my 
right ear. "Just think how vulnerable you are now," he said quietly. "I 
could beat your chest until it turned as red as a cherry, and you couldn't 
cover yourself to protect those beautiful mounds. You may be able to run, 
but since you're blindfolded, you wouldn't know where to go to escape if 
necessary; I doubt you could even find your way to the door of our hotel 
room right now if you had to. 

"In fact," he said, some levity returning to his voice, "I want you to go 
to the door. Do you know where it is? You have thirty seconds to find it. 
If you can press yourself against the door, I'll reward you by buying that 
black dress you showed me recently on the Victoria's Secret Web site." 

That was indeed incentive, but he was right: I had no clue of my 
orientation in the hotel room. I knew that I was near the bed; I 
remembered that from those final seconds before I had been robbed of 
vision. I could not just reach out with my hands and essentially "feel" my 
way to the door, because he had so thoughtfully bound my arms and rendered 
them thoroughly useless. With the exception of the bathroom, the entire 
hotel room was carpeted, so I could not use a change of floor covering to 
estimate my location in relation to the door. 

"Thirty... Twenty-nine..." 

I turned, took a few tentative steps, and my left thigh brushed against 
the king-size bed. I stopped, taking a precious second to try to remember: 
Was I positioned between the bed and the table, or between the bed and the 
bathroom wall? 

"Twenty-two..." 

I turned around – at least, I hoped that it was a 180-degree turn, since I 
had no visual reference points for verification – and took a few tentative 
steps forward. Since I did not bump into anything, I took a larger step 
forward, then a larger step forward, and bumped into a wall. 

"Sixteen..." 

I knew that it was a lost cause, that I would not be the recipient of a 
Victoria's Secret dress anytime soon. Still, I wanted to figure out this 
challenge. And, admittedly, I wanted to put on a "show" for my Master. I 
turned, took a few tentative steps forward, and bumped into another wall. 

I finally knew where I was in the hotel room: I was between the bed and 
the bathroom wall, facing the wall shared with another hotel room. The bed 
was to my left, the bathroom wall was to my right, and I was probably just 
two steps from the junction of the two walls. 

"Eleven..." 

I turned, stepped forward, and bumped into the bathroom wall. I turned so 
that my left side was against that wall and slowly made my way forward. 
When I reached the end of the wall, I knew I needed to turn left. 

"Four..." 

I turned left and took several large steps, finally bumping into the door. 
I could feel one of the required signs – probably the emergency escape 
plan sign posted on the back of the door – against my nose, and I smiled 
to myself. 

"Zero. Congratulations, slave, you just earned yourself an elegant, sexy, 
and somewhat revealing Victoria's Secret dress. Now come to me." 

I turned around and approached the encouraging voice, moving slowly. Soon, 
I was in a warm embrace that I unfortunately could not return, but I was 
at least able to share in the delightful accompanying kiss. 

"And now, a very different reward," he announced. He maneuvered me until 
my legs were against the bed, then bent me over. I knew what was coming 
next, and eagerly parted my feet. 

I did not need to wait very long before I felt the familiar fingers 
pulling aside the dampened crotch of my panty. His fingers stroked my 
womanhood, drawing out the nectar within, brushing the small nub that sent 
currents of passion coursing throughout my body. He played me once again, 
slowly raising my level of desire. My cheek pressed against the bed, I 
whimpered softly as I moved against his hand, somewhat frustrated the my 
bonds would not permit me to reach back and grab his solid erection and 
force him to violate me instead of simply molesting me. 

When he did finally enter me, however, it was definitely worth the wait. I 
cried out softly at the initial entry, enjoying the illicit feeling of my 
vagina being spread apart to accommodate his invading manhood. 

He bent over me, his weight balanced precariously upon my bound forearms, 
and whispered into my ear, "Shall I make love to you, or would you prefer 
for me to rape you?" 

The word "rape," while usually evoking a young woman's worst nightmare, 
seemed perfect to my twisted mind. After all, I was bent over a bed, my 
weeping sex filled by an incestuous anatomy on a day devoted to love even 
though almost no one in society would ever condone the love I felt for the 
person who was violating my body. 

"Rape me." 

He did. 

*****

Even after the long bubble bath together, as my big brother applied the 
massage oil to my naked body quite some time later, I was still a bit 
sore. As we watched the Sailor Moon S film (from the DVD he had brought 
with him – had he known in advance that there would be a new TV with a 
built-in DVD player in our hotel room?), my mind recalled how the ropes 
had become even more confining as my body had lurched and twisted from his 
sexual onslaught. I remembered the pinching of the ropes, especially 
around my breasts. I thought of the pain as he had spanked me hard and 
yanked on my ponytail. And my ears could still hear my screams as one 
climax after another had been forced upon me; I could still hear my joyful 
sobs at the culmination of the intense experience as the incestuous seed 
practically poured as if from a hose into my accepting body. 

I looked at the digital clock built into the television. It was still 
officially Valentine's Day. Despite all the day's activities, despite the 
fatigue I felt, there was still time to honor this special day with this 
special person. 

Sometimes, as often occurs between twins, my big brother knows exactly 
what I am thinking. This was one of those times, for he gently rolled me 
to my back, which caused my head to tip over the foot of the bed. I 
initially thought that he simply wanted to massage the oil into my chest, 
especially since he is a self-admitted "breast man" (and unashamedly so), 
but he wiped his hands on the bedspread, parted my legs, and took a 
position between my thighs. He lapped at my sex, holding apart my labia to 
allow his tongue maximum access to pleasure me. And as I faintly heard 
Luna delighting in her transformation, I vocalized my delight in the 
action between my thighs. But it was my big brother's fingers pinching my 
right nipple that was the key to releasing the torrent of passion which 
bathed his face with my love. As I calmed with the blood pooling in my 
head, he suckled at the same nipple, his hand cupping my sex and gently 
squeezing me. 

When I looked at the television again, the film had ended, as had 
Valentine's Day, and while the day devoted to love had not ended with the 
same intensity as it had begun, I had never felt closer to my big brother 
than I did at that very moment. 

*****

The scent of our passionate stay lingered in the hotel room, and I simply 
had to smile at the memories. Standing at the window one final time, I 
looked out across San Francisco, admiring the view one more time. 

"Ready?" my big brother asked. 

"Sure," I replied. Then, just before I turned away from the window, I 
noticed my bra and thong from Monday night peeking out from behind the 
right curtain. I hesitated, then simply left them there. If the cleaning 
crew missed them, then perhaps the next person or couple to stay in this 
room would find them and be able to sense the adventures those garments 
had "witnessed" here. 

It was with great sadness that we stepped out of the hotel, and back into 
reality. 

*****

Upon returning to our apartment, I immediately went to the kitchen, to the 
toolbox underneath the sink, and retrieved the adhesive cable clips. I 
took two of them with me to my bedroom, and, in much the same way I had 
mounted one of my thongs on the wall in my big brother's bedroom about 
four months earlier, I mounted the belly chain, with only the handcuffs 
charm attached. 

That evening, my big brother and I planned to sleep in my bed. When he 
entered my bedroom and saw his gift to me upon the wall above my desk, he 
smiled his approval. He was already fully nude, so I had him sit on the 
bed, and I knelt before him, using my hands and my mouth to make love to 
his forbidden phallus as his eyes kept shifting from me to the belly chain 
upon the wall. 

"You may or may not truly become my full-time slave," he said softly as he 
brushed my hair away from my face, "but you will always be my baby sister, 
and I will always love you and cherish you." 

I lifted my head, allowing his male anatomy to slip past my lips. Looking 
deep into his eyes, I simply whispered, "I'll hold you to it." 


Twins in College Ch. 20
by WFEATHER ©

I returned from grocery shopping to find my big brother was gone. In a 
way, that was good, as I had some quiet time to myself, which I 
occasionally needed despite the deep, intense love I felt for him. Yet, as 
I put away the food we would need for the next few days of our existence, 
I missed his presence – even just knowing he was, say, in his bedroom 
studying while I was in the kitchen would have lifted my spirits a bit. 

It was still only about 10:30AM on a Saturday, so he would be at work for 
several more hours. Knowing he would need to study a bit when he returned, 
I decided to wait and study when he did, so I figured I would go online 
and simply roam. 

Once in my bedroom, I first checked my e-mail... and was not really 
surprised to find another message from my fraternal twin. He often sent 
some rather good jokes, or links to interesting Web sites, or particularly 
steamy stories and images he had found online or received from friends, 
but I was a bit perplexed by the subject line: 

"Little Things" 

I opened the message, finding that he had attached an HCG image. Very much 
in anime style, a college girl was on her back on a bed, the pink sheets 
really bringing her lengthy blue hair to prominence. She wore only a panty 
with horizontal stripes in blue and white, with "Little Things" printed in 
English across the topmost stripe. Perched over her on his knees with one 
hand flat on the bed for support, a faceless guy in a blue shirt and blue 
jeans had his free hand down the front of her panty, clearly masturbating 
her; as is true of virtually all Japanese-created porn, the genital region 
was pixilated, so I could only assume that he has several of his fingers 
embedded in her small frame. His actions clearly had an effect upon her, 
for her hands clutched the pink sheet beneath her in a fist, and small 
drops of sweat dotted her body; her nipples were so prominently erect that 
even I felt compelled to suck them, and a nice blush colored her face and 
highlighted the large tear trickling from one of her closed eyes; her 
mouth was wide open as if she were questing for air or crying out in 
pleasure, and a prominent wet spot was visible on the pink sheet between 
her spread thighs. 

Even before I read the text of the message, the image reminded me very 
much of the events of the night before. Wearing just as little clothing as 
the beauty in the image, I had been in very much the same position upon my 
big brother's bed. With his hand down the front of my thong, my big 
brother had masturbated me for a long, long time, eschewing his own 
pleasure to ensure that my desires were well sated... several times over. 
And while I sensed a hint of embarrassment from the college girl in the 
HCG image, the knowledge that my own big brother was not just masturbating 
me but also closely watching me and savoring my impassioned sounds had 
made each glorious climax all the more meaningful, all the more powerful. 
My sweat-covered body had been gladly and proudly at his mercy as I 
writhed upon the bed in the seductive display that comes so naturally to a 
young woman once again climbing the mountain of ecstasy. 

"That's it... Cum for me, baby sister... Let yourself go... Enjoy it... 
Let your big brother please you... Go ahead and shred the bedspread... 
Scream as loud as you need... Tonight is all about you... I want to feel 
you cum again... Do you want to cum again?... You're so damn beautiful 
like this... Drench my hand..." 

With only his manipulating hand and his soothing voice, my big brother had 
been able to inflict pleasure upon pleasure upon pleasure upon me. I had 
relinquished all control to his manipulating hand and his soothing voice. 
Without needing to use any restraints, he had captured me, he had bound me 
to his will, and his will had been to batter me with carnal delight until 
I had felt I could no longer breathe, until my trembling body had at last 
fallen exhausted and limp and definitely sated upon his bedspread, quite 
wet from my sweat and my love. 

With only his manipulating hand and his soothing voice, my big brother had 
caused time to stand still. All that had mattered to him was me and my 
pleasure. All that had mattered to me was that each lewd motion of my 
body, each sharp cry passing my lips, each quickening beat of my heart had 
bound us ever closer together, even closer than we had been while still in 
the womb. 

The message my big brother had included with the image was quite 
appropriate: "Thinking of last night..." 

There was only one logical thing to do. I saved the attached image to my 
directory of HCG images, then set it as my wallpaper. Looking fondly upon 
the new wallpaper, I sat at my desk, my jeans unbuttoned, my hand inside 
my thong, and masturbated slowly for quite some time as my mind replayed 
the enjoyable memories the wallpaper evoked. 

When my big brother returned at last from work, I was playing Tekken 5 
again and not faring too well, as fighting games definitely are not my 
forte. He bent down to kiss me between rounds, and I simply said the only 
thing that I could possibly say: 

"Thanks for the loving memories." 

 
Twins in College Ch. 21
by WFEATHER ©

All day long, I had been incredibly horny, a terrible condition which 
seemed to only worsen by the hour. Despite a few trips to the library 
restroom when I was supposed to be researching for a major paper, my 
fingers simply were not enough to gratify me. Being the one to restock the 
adult section of the video store that night simply exacerbated the 
situation: Being surrounded by all the various forms of sex for those 
fifteen minutes only served to make me even hornier. 

I was so thankful when midnight came and Joyna locked the door after the 
final customer had left the store. We began the closing process, and since 
Joyna has always been really uncomfortable in the adult section, it fell 
to me to go behind the curtain for the second time that night, which made 
me even hornier still. Yet, somehow, I was able to resist the urge to 
reach up my skirt and touch myself to try to relieve some of the pent-up 
pressure. 

Eventually, we heard my big brother's signature knock at the back door. 
Joyna admitted him in, and he politely helped by vacuuming while I counted 
the cash and Joyna finished packing the last of the old videotapes in the 
foreign section for the store's owner to take home the next day and sell 
on eBay. 

Finally, Joyna left the store with her uncle, leaving me alone with my big 
brother. I so desperately wanted to pounce on him right then and there, 
and I honestly do not know how I managed to keep such an intense desire at 
bay. Even if I had been shackled to the wall, I probably would have broken 
free and shredded his clothes before pulling aside the crotch of my thong 
and rapidly impaling myself upon him. 

When he put his hand on my shoulder and chastely kissed my cheek, my thong 
could no longer contain my passion. "Please don't," I pleaded breathily, 
"or I may not be able to control myself." 

He gave me an inquisitive look, but somehow seemed to understand both my 
need and my predicament. 

When we finally returned to our apartment, my big brother turned on the 
main light and closed the door, but then I was on him even before he could 
lock out the rest of the world. I practically flung myself at him, 
crushing my breasts against his back and forcing his chest into the door. 
My hands were all over him as I kissed and nipped at his neck. My body was 
immediately slithering against him, and I wondered idly if he could feel 
my arousal-hardened nipples through bra and sweatshirt and coat and coat 
and shirt. 

My big brother at least had the presence of mind to lock the door while I 
was assaulting him. "Shit, girl!" he exclaimed. "My innocent baby sister 
has suddenly turned into a real bitch in heat!!!" 

That vulgar statement made me particularly happy, in an inexplicable, 
lust-informed way. I responded by reaching around him, my hand dropping 
below the beltline, and fondling my big brother's lengthening manhood 
through his jeans. "How fast can you get this inside me!?!" I challenged 
with a heated growl in his ear. 

It was definitely fast. In less than thirty seconds, he was on his back on 
the floor, his sex saluting me proudly through the open zipper of his 
jeans. He thoughtfully held my skirt up for me as I squatted over him, so 
I could pull aside the crotch of my thong and sink down onto him. I 
lowered myself rapidly, groaning with primal lust as I felt my body being 
violated, my insides being pried apart by the thick manhood I knew much 
too well for my own good. 

I leaned forward, and with my hands gripping his shoulders, I fucked him, 
hard and fast and vigorously. At last, I truly felt whole, complete, 
feminine. 

We were both incredibly hot. Neither of us had undressed – that was 
definitely my fault, as I did not allow us the time to undress – so our 
coats were doing a flawless job of containing the heat rising within us. 
Even though I wore a skirt like I often do when working at the store, even 
my legs felt incredibly hot, such was the extent of my pent-up passion as 
it surged throughout my body in search of an escape route. 

As I continued to fuck my big brother as rapidly as I could, I was stunned 
by the force of his grip upon my left breast despite the coat I wore. His 
grip was the key, unlocking the dam holding back my first deluge of lust, 
and as the initial climax washed over my body, I no longer felt any 
discomfort from slamming my sex down upon the open metal zipper of my big 
brother's jeans. All I felt was a surge of adrenaline and a pulsating 
pistoning deep within me. If I cried out, I did not hear it, for the sound 
of my own heartbeat was thunderous in my ears. 

I collapsed upon his chest, my entire body spasming even as the intense 
heat began to overtake me. Yet I still wanted and needed much, much more. 

I believe my big brother sensed my distress, for he rolled us so he was 
upon me, then slipped out of my crying womanhood. Quickly, he unbuttoned 
my coat, parting the garment as much as he could. Briefly, he squeezed 
each breast playfully, then slithered his hands down my chest and stomach 
to the base of my college sweatshirt, exposing my stomach to his view as I 
instinctively arched my body to assist him. Only when the sweatshirt was 
bunched up above my breasts and the cups of my bra had been lowered did he 
finally lean back and pause for a moment to enjoy the incestuous view of 
his baby sister's sweaty body. 

"Please," I begged, already starting to feel better now that more of my 
body was exposed to the seemingly-cool air of the apartment. I glanced 
down at my big brother's jeans, and his sex seemed so beautifully obscene 
jutting forth through the open zipper. I reached out to manhandle his 
love-slickened manhood, and he visibly shuddered from my touch as he 
unzipped and removed his own coat, and then unbuttoned and removed his 
shirt. 

But next, instead of impaling me as I had expected (and truly wanted), my 
big brother slid backward toward the locked door. There was little room 
between my sex and the door, so he looked really awkward as he bent over 
in that small area. But once his fingers were inside me, my eyes closed 
and I was focused on the sensations he created within me. His free hand 
shot up to my chest, manipulating my heaving breasts and pulling at the 
rigid nipples to send still more pleasant sparks shooting throughout my 
body. 

My hands in his hair, I lost myself in my big brother's illicit actions. 
He fingered me, he ate me, he toyed with me. He showed me no mercy, and I 
definitely did not complain. He lovingly inflicted much more pleasure upon 
me while I humped his face and fingers and moaned and grunted and gasped 
and wailed and spewed lewd obscenities of encouragement. 

When I finally pushed my big brother away, I was limp and exhausted. I 
felt as if I would melt into a big puddle on the carpet, but I was 
finally, thoroughly, thankfully sated. My eyes closed as I gasped for air, 
I heard him move around me, but did not think anything of it until, a few 
moments later, I felt his white-hot love falling upon my face. Instinct 
caused me to open my mouth even wider to provide him with a better target, 
and I was appropriately rewarded. 

I remained there on the floor for a long, long time, even after my big 
brother had moved away from me. The cooling sweat made my body feel 
clammy, and my mouth was as dry as the Arizona desert in the midday June 
sun. Yet, in a way I had certainly not expected, I felt sated. I felt 
sated in body, of course, but also sated in mind and – most importantly – 
I felt sated in heart. 

I inhaled two glasses of water and took a long shower before slipping into 
my big brother's bed. He was already asleep, yet his arms instinctively 
enveloped me protectively as I pressed my naked body against his 
underneath the heavy warm covers. "Thank you for giving me what I needed, 
big brother," I whispered to him as I stroked the back of his head, 
knowing that despite his sleep, my sincere words were definitely heard. 

With my forehead pressed against his, I closed my eyes, and drifted into a 
deep, peaceful, sated slumber. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 22
by WFEATHER ©

I awoke that morning alone in my big brother's bed, the flannel sheets 
warm against my naked body. A few moments later, I heard the shower start, 
and thought of perhaps joining him, but instead decided to remain in bed, 
enjoying the feel of the sensual flannel. 

Clearly, I had fallen asleep again, for seemingly a heartbeat later, my 
forbidden lover was kissing me, his tongue gliding along my lower lip. I 
submitted to him, allowing him entrance into my mouth as his hand stroked 
a breast through the covers. 

That was as close as we came to true intimacy that morning, as we needed 
to prepare for our trip home for Spring Break. As I washed my hair in the 
shower, I thought fondly of our lengthy lovemaking the night before. 
Knowing that we would not be able to indulge in each other again until 
Wednesday night, it had been a particularly meaningful intimacy, slow and 
respectful, lasting well into the night with multiple releases for us 
both. 

But, eventually, it was time to finish packing. I was just about to zip up 
my wheeled carry-on when my forbidden lover stepped into my bedroom. He 
simply pulled me back into him, lovingly fondling my chest for a few 
moments. 

"I'm going to miss this," I whispered, "these small moments we share 
together." 

He squeezed my breasts through my sweatshirt and bra. "What I'll miss most 
is the honor of waking up in the morning next to the wonderful young woman 
I truly love." 

I sighed contentedly, wondering if my big brother's hands could feel the 
slight increase in my heart rate in response to his kind, flattering 
words. 

As the airplane banked to the left over San Francisco, I looked fondly 
upon the city, my big brother holding my hand as he shared the view. There 
was no one sitting around us, affording us this last moment of affection 
before arriving home for Spring Break. 

*****

"Where's Daddy?" I asked, surprised that he did not come to the airport to 
meet us. "Is he working on a Saturday again?" 

"Actually, no," our mother replied sadly. "A longtime friend from college 
is on his death bed after a severe skiing accident. Your father received 
the call late last night, and his plane took off about twenty minutes 
ago." 

"Damn," my big brother muttered. 

"So it's just the three of us, at least for now. He said he'd call 
tonight." 

It was an odd way to start the trip home. 

*****

Sunday afternoon, our mother approached me after lunch. "Care to go 
shopping?" she asked. So we left my big brother behind as he did some work 
on one of the computers, blowing out the accumulated dust inside the tower 
and installing a few new cards and a larger internal hard drive. 

I quickly realized why I had been specifically asked if I wanted to go 
shopping, for once in the car, I was trapped, captive. 

"What did you think of the gift card?" she asked shortly after we were out 
of sight of the house. 

I smiled. "It was quite a surprise," I replied honestly. "I definitely had 
not expected it, especially coming from a parent!" 

My mother laughed a bit. "I figured you would appreciate it. I hope your 
boyfriend enjoyed seeing you in whatever it was you bought." 

I felt a little warm, and hoped that I was not blushing. "He did." 

"So," she said triumphantly, "I was right. You do have a boyfriend!" 

I did not argue the point, for fear that it would somehow incriminate me. 

"He's a very lucky guy," she commented. "You're beautiful, you're smart, 
and you're intensely loyal to him." 

How would she know about the loyalty aspect? I wondered, but I tried to 
keep my expression blank and blush-free as I looked out the passenger 
window. 

"You're still on the pill, aren't you?" my mother asked, surprising me 
with the question. I only nodded, too stunned to speak. "Good, because I 
know that you don't want to be suddenly burdened with a child you are 
probably not mentally prepared enough to raise. Besides, for us women, 
having kids can really put a slowdown on a career – and if you do want to 
have a career, you will really need to carefully plan when you have kids." 


I simply nodded again, trying to figure out where this conversation was 
going. 

She was silent for a while as she navigated her way toward the highway, 
then finally resumed the conversation. "You will probably be surprised by 
this, but I have a confession to make, and I believe it will help you as 
well to hear this." 

I simply looked at her, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. 

"You never knew your Uncle Rob, but I believe I told you about how he 
died, right?" 

"A military training accident," I replied. "An engine malfunction in the 
helicopter he was in." 

"Exactly." She sighed sadly, clearly remembering. "I really loved Rob. I 
would do anything to be close to him, to spend time with him. We were 
closer than most brothers and sisters ever are, although not nearly as 
close as you and Victor are to each other, being that you two are twins.

"Anyhow, when I was home from college one summer and he happened to be 
home for a few weeks on military leave, we went to an off-campus party 
together, since he also knew people who were likely to be there. Not 
surprisingly, the alcohol was freely-flowing, and soon things quieted down 
as people paired off and went to semi-secluded locations. Soon, the sounds 
of sex were unmistakable coming from some of the rooms upstairs, and those 
downstairs and outside began get rather sexual as well." 

I suddenly wondered just how close my mother had been with Uncle Rob, the 
one family member whose photograph was perched atop the mantle yet who I 
knew very little about besides his untimely death. 

"Rob and I soon left, but neither of us wanted to go home yet and we 
needed to sober up first anyhow, and it was clear that both of us were 
rather... turned on by the sexual activity at the party. So we walked to a 
small park, went to the picnic pavilion, and in the shadows there, we... 
relieved our sexual urges. I'm sure that whoever came to the pavilion the 
next day must have wondered whose blood was on the cement floor." 

My mouth was agape. Not only had my own mother been in an incestuous 
situation, she had also lost her virginity to her brother. That 
pronouncement made me really wonder just what our "shopping trip" was all 
about. 

"The next two days, Rob and I both tried to act as if nothing had 
happened, but we finally had to confront it. We had a long, long talk, and 
finally we realized that 'as close as we had always been' was no longer 
enough. At that point, we became lovers – secret lovers, of course, but 
lovers nonetheless. And it was hard, because he was so often away due to 
his military career, and when he was at home, we only had short stolen 
moments together and the rare opportunity to run off somewhere to make 
love to each other." 

She slowed as she drove down an exit ramp. "It really hit me hard when we 
learned that Rob had died in the helicopter accident. Everyone else in the 
family thought I was so crushed because Rob and I had always been so 
close, even though he was some three years older than me. I don't believe 
they knew that he and I were also in love.

"So that's why I felt that it was fine for you and Victor to live together 
in Berkeley while going to college. I've just had an instinctive feeling 
that you two were in love, and seeing how you two interacted during 
Christmas Break reminded me so much of me and Rob trying to act nonchalant 
to cover our own relationship. 

"I don't believe your father knows about you two," she continued. "He 
certainly doesn't know about me and Rob. But most importantly, knowing how 
close and loyal you two have always been with each other, I want you to 
really, truly cherish your time together, because, as I found out the hard 
way, you never know when you will not be together again. Even if society's 
'ethics' do not tear you apart, something tragic could happen to rip 
through your relationship." 

Turning into the vast parking lot, my mother's eyes immediately began to 
scan for a parking spot near the main mall entrance. "Even better, unlike 
me and Rob, you get to see Victor every day, which can make your love for 
each other all the more meaningful. There are a number of things that you 
can do to add even more meaning to your relationship, like occasionally 
wearing lingerie for him or simply massaging his shoulders when he's been 
studying for a while. I won't ask what you already do now, but at least 
you now know that you have my total support, and that if you want to do 
something truly special for him on occasion, I'll be more than willing to 
help you make it happen if I possibly can, okay?" 

I could only nod, still stunned at this revelation, this confession, this 
advice. We finally parked, and immediately, my mother reached into her 
purse. 

"Here," she said, handing me a small envelope. "You can spend it now, or 
you can wait and spend it back in California. I can promise you this: You 
and Victor will have the house to yourselves tomorrow, because I must be 
in the office all day due to prior commitments, and your father won't be 
back until Wednesday at the earliest, so you can indulge with your brother 
all you want tomorrow without needing to worry about one of your parents 
discovering you. 

"Now, you go do as you will, and let's meet at the coffee shop at the 
south end of the mall in, say, two hours, okay?" 

She held my gaze for a few seconds and smiled. "I know I just poured a lot 
of information on you. I know you must be incredibly surprised by all 
this. And, admittedly, perhaps I am living vicariously through you. But 
what is most important to me is that you are happy, and clearly, you are 
extremely happy with Victor." She patted my thigh. "So do whatever you 
believe will help to increase your happiness, whatever you believe will 
bring you two even closer together than you already are." 

My knowing smile joined hers, and she leaned forward to kiss my forehead. 

*****

There was no need to wait until Wednesday evening. 

After I heard our mother leave the house, I quickly shed my sleepshirt and 
thong and meandered to my big brother's bedroom. Opening the door slowly 
and silently, I discovered he was still asleep, on his back, his arms 
flung wide across the bed as if he was skydiving with the parachute 
beneath him. It was an odd sight, and an odd vision. 

Since I knew for certain that our mother would not be returning until 
dinnertime at the earliest, I did not bother closing the bedroom door. 
Even when I climbed up onto the bed, my big brother did not move, 
indicating that he truly was in a deep, deep slumber. I simply lay upon 
him, the covers between us preventing the skin-on-skin sensation we both 
enjoyed. Instinctively, his arms enveloped me as he slept. With my face 
pressed into the side of his neck, I felt myself drifting back into 
slumber myself. 

Nearly an hour later, I awoke to a gentle squeeze of my lower cheeks. 
Smiling into my big brother's neck, I gave him a gentle nibble before 
lifting myself up enough to gaze down into his sleepy eyes. "Good morning, 
love," I whispered before descending to kiss his lips. 

He suddenly seemed to recall where we were, for I felt my big brother 
instantly tense beneath me. I lifted myself enough to again look into his 
eyes, and I could see the fear of discovery within. He was about to 
protest the fact that I was naked upon him in our parents' house when I 
put a single finger to his lips to silence him. "Daddy's out of state and 
might be back Wednesday," I reminded him, "and our mother is at the office 
all day long due to prior commitments that she cannot break. We are 
entirely on our own until at least dinnertime." 

My assurance softened his expression. It took a few seconds longer for his 
just-awakening brain to process the meaning of my assurance, and he 
grinned. 

I had never expected that I would make love to my big brother in the 
family home ever again. We made love several times that day. I never had a 
chance to show him what I had bought the day before with the gift card our 
mother had provided for me, but then again, I was not really certain if I 
wanted him to know that our mother knew of our incestuous relationship and 
actually condoned it and provided the means to enhance it. 

*****

Our father met us at the airport as we were returning to California. He 
had just stepped off a plane after traveling all night, and he looked 
extremely ragged. We spent about an hour chatting at a coffee bar near the 
security checkpoint before our mother finally dragged him home. After the 
ordeal he had suffered through that week, he clearly needed to be consoled 
by his wife and then sent to bed, but the fact that he had been able to 
spend an hour with us had certainly meant a lot to him – that much had 
been clearly written upon his face as the hour passed. 

Landing in Oakland was an adventure as usual: Descending over the water 
and not seeing land until just seconds before touchdown always made me 
feel slightly nervous even though I knew that we were on the appropriate 
flight path. The familiar hand upon my thigh was a definite comfort, 
taking the edge off my nervousness. 

Once back in our apartment, my big brother and I embraced, then retired to 
the sofa, where I curled up in his lap as he held me. 

"You've learned something significant this week," he accused, "I could 
sense it. Is this something I should know?" 

A long silence passed as I debated with myself whether I should relay our 
mother's confession. She had not told me to never tell my big brother 
about her incestuous relationship, but I had assumed that her words had 
been for my ears only. 

Finally, I decided. 

"It's a good thing you're sitting down," I said, "because you'll be just 
as surprised as I was by this confession..." 



Twins in College Ch. 23
by WFEATHER ©

Chapter 23: Cloned

I awoke first, and placed a gentle kiss upon my big brother's cheek. A 
subtle smile was upon his angelic, sleeping face, making me wonder just 
what he was seeing in his dream. Was he dreaming of us making love before 
a glowing fireplace? Was he dreaming of us dancing together? Was he 
dreaming of me submitting to his whims? Was he dreaming of us simply 
joking around? 

With one more kiss to his cheek, I slipped out of bed, donned my robe and 
slippers to thwart the slightly-cool air, and headed to the kitchen to 
make some coffee. 

When I returned to my bedroom, my big brother was still asleep. It is rare 
that the scent of coffee does not awaken him, so I knew that he was in a 
deep sleep with a highly-enjoyable dream filling his mind. I removed my 
slippers and robe and slid back into bed with him, and he instinctively 
drew my naked body against his. His erection was unmistakable, pressing 
against me and signaling that his dream was definitely sexual in some 
manner. Was he dreaming of watching me squirm in bondage? Was he dreaming 
of my deepthroating him, even though I could not yet get past the gag 
reflex in reality? Was he dreaming of feasting upon my dripping sex? Was 
he dreaming of watching me having sex with another college coed? 

Was he dreaming of his twin having an identical twin? 

That was an intriguing thought... What if I had both a fraternal twin and 
an identical twin? In essence, what if I could clone myself? 

I tried to imagine that scenario from my big brother's point of view, with 
all other aspects of our lives together being equal. He would sleep at 
night with two of me: one of me on either side of him, each of me with a 
head upon a different shoulder as we all drifted into peaceful slumber. He 
would have two of me to dominate, two of me more than willing to submit to 
whatever pain or pleasure he wished to bestow upon either of me at any 
time. He would have two of me to meet him at the BART station after class 
or work, or two of me to have dinner ready for him when he returned to the 
apartment. He would have two of me to ogle, especially as both of me 
paraded topless or nude around the apartment. He would have two of me to 
entice him to a throbbing hardness, two of me to ultimately devour his 
incestuous seed. He would have two of me to make love to him on nearly a 
daily basis. He would have two of me to simply smile at him on occasion to 
make him realize just how lucky each of me was to have him as a big 
brother. 

And, I was certain, he would want to watch me make out with myself, as it 
would effectively be the "safest" way to indulge in his once-admitted 
fantasy of watching me doing naughty things with another girl. 

I reached for my big brother's solid erection, causing him to shudder in 
his sleep beside me. Resting my head upon his shoulder, I smiled, closing 
my eyes and envisioning my clone on the other side of him, also gently 
stroking his manhood, my hand occasionally touching mine. How strange it 
would be to open my eyes and see myself across my big brother's chest, 
looking back at me, reaching out to me, stroking my cheek, pulling me 
close to kiss my own mirrored lips...

With a soft moan, my big brother stirred, turning toward me, his arms 
instinctively wrapping around me. My arms surrounded him likewise, yet I 
still pictured a copy of myself pressed against his back, also holding 
him. 

I felt a kiss upon my lips and a hand upon my breast, and opened my eyes. 
My big brother lifted his head away and gazed down upon me, a soft smile 
upon his face. "Good morning, baby sister," he whispered. 

I blinked several times, my mind still caught in the haze between dream 
and consciousness. For a few seconds, I could still fee the presence of my 
clone behind him, but then that presence dissipated in the initial rays of 
daylight. 

Once again, I had my big brother all to myself. Reaching upward, I pulled 
his head back down to my face and kissed him, slowly and lovingly. His 
hand squeezed my breast a little more firmly, and I know from his touch 
that my clone had indeed been simply a dream, that I was very much and 
fortunately alone in receiving his sweet, respectful attentions. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 24
by WFEATHER ©

A gentle touch upon my shoulder violently startled me awake, but almost 
instantly, my eyes started to close again. Even though I recognized my big 
brother's hand upon me, it took several heartbeats for me to realize that 
I sat at the table, my arms folded atop a thick textbook. 

"Come to bed, baby sister," I heard softly as the familiar hand gently 
caressed my shoulder. "You won't do yourself any good at all by studying 
all night, especially if you're this tired just after midnight. Come to 
bed, please." 

I shook my head, partially in response to him, partially to try to clear 
my head. "I've got to keep going," I replied. "I'll be done in about two 
hours, I promise." 

Through simply my big brother's touch upon me shoulder, I could feel his 
hesitation; I could tell that he did not truly believe me. "Two hours," he 
warned, his tone clearly harsher than usual. 

A few heartbeats later, a gently touch upon my shoulder once again 
violently startled me awake. Once again, almost instantly, my eyes started 
to close again. 

"Come to bed," I heard, this time not nearly as gently. 

Slowly, I turned my eyes toward the clock on the VCR, and saw that it was 
only 12:30AM. 

He must have sensed that I was checking the time. "You're too damn tired, 
baby sister. Come to bed, now." 

The exam was so important to me, however, that I slowly shook my head in 
the negative. 

Reaching underneath my arm, my big brother roughly seized a breast, and, 
despite my fatigue, a soft sound immediately flowed past my lips. 

Then, however, I winced and grunted with pain as his hand clamped 
ferociously upon my breast. "You're coming to bed, now!" he insisted. 

"No! I can't!" 

"Stand up, slave!" 

That set the tone. Never before had my big brother "pulled rank" on me 
like that, suddenly engaging our master/slave hierarchy without first 
consulting me. Never had he attempted to dominate me in anger, for which I 
had been quite grateful, but I thought that I was really, really in deep 
trouble, that he would punish me in anger. 

As quickly as my exhausted mind could form the commands for my body to 
execute, I stood before my big brother, my master. 

"Strip!" 

He was clearly not happy with me. I did not bother trying to take my time 
or trying to make my disrobing particularly sexy for him. Instead, I 
stripped as quickly as I possibly could, for once taking no pleasure in 
the act, ultimately standing fully nude before him yet unable to feel any 
pride in displaying my sisterly body for his viewing pleasure. 

"I will meet you in my bedroom in five minutes," he informed me, the edge 
still quite evident in his voice as he glanced at his watch. "If you are 
even one second late, the punishment will be even more severe." 

Just shy of five minutes later, I stood just within the doorway of my big 
brother's bedroom. The covers on his bed had already been pulled back, and 
he was already fully nude as he closed the door to his closet. Seeing me, 
he gestured toward the bed, and while my eyes saw him naked before me, my 
mind was far too exhausted to take any pleasure in the vision. 

A few moments later, I was in bed with my big brother, my master, his body 
pressed snugly to mine from behind. "I set the alarm for 5AM," I heard 
faintly in the darkness as sleep threatened to devour my consciousness 
once again. "You can resume your studying then." 

"Yes, mas....." 

*****

I had to work the late-afternoon/early-evening shift at the video store, 
so when I returned from class and from work, my big brother was awaiting 
me, sitting at the table and reading a magazine. Immediately, I went to 
him, bending down to kiss him, but I sensed something "dark" in his kiss, 
and I knew that he had been serious the night before about punishing me. 

"Strip. Now." 

I hesitated only a millisecond before setting my backpack down beside the 
table and beginning to undress. This time, at least, my mind was clear 
enough to take at least a little pleasure in undressing before my master. 
His eyes, however, seemed cold and distant, scrutinizing and calculating, 
and that kept any delight held at bay. 

"Over the end of the sofa," he ordered. With a nod, I complied, bending 
over one upholstered arm, my chest pressed into one of the end pillows and 
my cheek pressed against an upholstered seat cushion. 

"Sometimes," he said with an exasperated sigh, "you can be so damn 
stubborn about the strangest things!" Slowly, he stood, and began to 
slowly approach me while unbuckling his belt. 

I knew instantly what my punishment would be. I just did not know how many 
kisses of the leather belt would grace my vulnerable flesh. 

"Last night, you were particularly stubborn. I know today's exam was 
important to you, but your stubbornness would have certainly earned you a 
much lower grade if I had not stepped in and pulled rank on you." 

"Yes, master," I whispered, more for myself than for any form of agreement 
with his statement. 

Nothing more was said. He removed his belt from his jeans, doubled it 
over, assumed the position, and struck me. 

By the fifth strike, I was definitely breathing hard. 

By the tenth strike, I could not remain still. 

By the twentieth strike, I was crying openly. Yes, I was suffering pain, 
and yes, I did like to have my master hurt me on occasion. 

The tears themselves were caused by the physical pain of the punishment, 
but the sobs were caused by the emotional pain of needing to be punished. 

When my punishment finally ended, he knelt behind me, pried apart my moist 
sex, and began to slowly eat me. Yet I could not take any pleasure in his 
loving gesture, so great was my distress and my shame at needing to be 
truly punished. 

Yet, even though I vowed to myself to never again do anything which would 
cause him to hurt me outside of agreed-upon play, I loved him even more 
for taking the initiative and truly punishing me to help me to become a 
better person, a better student... and ultimately a better baby sister. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 25
by WFEATHER ©

Typically, when we went to bed, my big brother would hold me. He would 
sometimes align himself behind me, fitting himself against me like two 
identical spoons in a silverware drawer, an arm draped over me and holding 
me against him. Often, his hand would cup one of my naked breasts, the 
warmth of his hand warming my heart as well. This particular scenario 
would always bring a smile to my face and ensure that I had a very 
pleasant dream each night. 

Late one particular night, as we slept in my big brother’s bed, I awoke to 
a gentle squeezing of my breast and a telltale poking at the base of my 
torso. Since I was facing the wall, I could not see the clock, so I had no 
idea what time it was. I only knew that it was still rather dark, the 
faint light in the room coming from the screensaver running on my big 
brother’s laptop. 

I tried to determine if he was awake or asleep, without alerting him that 
I was awake. His hand squeezed my breast again, and it took a bit of 
willpower to keep myself from moaning softly. Despite his apparent 
erection, he was not actively trying to impale me, so I surmised that he 
was actually asleep, enjoying a rather erotic dream... hopefully a rather 
erotic dream featuring his twin baby sister. 

Despite still being a bit sleepy myself, I decided that if my big brother 
was awake, I would let him know that I was awake as well and more than 
willing to allow him back inside me. But, if he was truly asleep, my plan 
would add realism to his erotic dream. 

Reaching back over my thighs, my fingertips found the hardened phallus I 
knew much too well for my own good. At my touch, I felt his entire body 
twitch against me and his hand squeeze my breast a little more firmly. 
Gently, I fingered his length, pressing the tip against my entrance to add 
his trickling lubrication to mine, and the soft brush of our sexes 
elicited a whimper from my lips. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” I suddenly heard in a low growl from behind me, 
“fast and hard.” 

My big brother was very evidently awake. 

Slowly, I slipped out of his hold, pushing the covers away and moving to 
my hands and knees upon the bed. “Take me,” I offered, pleaded. “Take your 
baby sister.” 

As my body was slowly, respectfully impaled by a familiar, hardened, 
fleshy sword, I moaned involuntarily, softly, the sound combining with the 
penetration to cause me to fully awaken. My big brother slid his hands up 
my sides, igniting beautiful electric sparks along where his fingernails 
gently scraped my skin. 

“I’m going to fuck my baby sister,” I heard, a false menacing tone in the 
voice, “and I’m going to be hard and rough and violent with her.” 

I smiled. “And she will thoroughly enjoy it,” I replied, almost certain 
that my big brother could hear my smile. 

My forbidden lover delivered on his promise. At times, his hands gripped 
my breasts fiercely, his fingernails burrowing into my sensitive swells, 
hurting me just enough for the pain to be highly erotic. At times, he 
would pull my hair, sometimes with a single hand, sometimes with both 
hands as if using my hair as reins, both situations causing my head to 
raise and my back to arch from the strength of his pulls. At times, he 
would spank me with tremendous force, adding yet another source of pain 
and ever-growing to my existence. 

And through it all, he pounded me, turning my arms and my legs to jelly, 
causing my heartbeat to thunder vociferously in my ears and my entire body 
to tremble and quake violently upon the loudly-protesting bed. He growled 
and spewed crass obscenities at me, and I responded in kind, our voices 
continually rising in volume, our banter continually descending ever 
deeper into the proverbial sewer. 

He announced his orgasm with a terrible roar, and I responded with a 
scream, clawing at a pillow as my climax consumed me and poured around his 
scalding male spear. I collapsed at last, and my big brother tumbled upon 
me, still lodged within my sisterly body, his hands still roughly gripping 
my breasts, his breath hot and fast and hard against my ear. I was being 
crushed into his bed, but I did not care – to feel him both within me and 
upon me filled my heart and my soul, making me feel used, of course, but 
also both loved and protected. 

“That is the last time you will cum until after the end of final exams, is 
that understood?” 

He had not called me “slave,” and he had not used a particularly stern or 
authoritative tone of voice with me. However, the intent was clear, and I 
instinctively responded in the only manner which made sense: 

“Yes, Master.” 

And the countdown to the end of exam week began. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 26
by WFEATHER ©

I was, in a word, frustrated. 

"That is the last time you will cum until after the end of final exams, is 
that understood?" 

My big brother, my Master, had given me an order, and I had no option but 
to obey. While Exam Week seemed to approach rather quickly as the end of 
the semester loomed, it also felt as if it was light years away – such was 
the state of my frustration. 

After all, after nearly a full academic year of making love to each other 
on very nearly a daily basis, I had become addicted to it, addicted to the 
intense climaxes which only my big brother could bestow upon me. Because 
of our near-daily copulation, I had almost never needed to satisfy myself, 
and when I did, the orgasms just did not compare. 

Yet, to be suddenly thrust into a situation where I could not achieve 
orgasm for such a long period of time was almost maddening. 

Rarely did I ever purposely disobey my Master. Only once had I ever really 
needed to be truly punished, not "playfully" punished. Yet as the days 
without gratification wore on, I thought more and more of purposely 
disobeying him. 

At first, it began innocently enough. After all, my Master had simply 
ordered that I could not cum until the end of final exams. He had not said 
that I could not play with myself and enjoy the climb toward a climax. 

My Master did not help matters at all by being sexual with me even more 
than usual. For once, he would often parade around the apartment fully 
nude while I was fully clothed, specifically to remind me of my 
prohibition against attaining the ultimate carnal pleasure. At least twice 
per day, he would insist that I suck him; he did not always cum himself, 
depending on when he would have me stop, but when he did, he almost always 
pushed me back so that he could release his incestuous seed upon me 
instead of inside my mouth. As we watched television together or cuddled 
in bed together, he would finger me, repeatedly bringing me to the 
precipice of delight before rudely hauling me back into the reality of my 
frustration. 

I thought it was going to come to a head on a Saturday night. I had been 
incredibly horny all evening long, and being the one to restock the 
shelves in the adult section of the video store did not help my situation 
at all. It took all my willpower to prevent myself from jumping my big 
brother and Master when he came to the store to escort me home. Purposely, 
I dallied a bit, until finally my other coworkers had left the store, 
leaving me and my sexual tormenter alone. 

"Please, Master!" I pleaded shamelessly. "Let me cum! Please!!!" 

He had the audacity to smirk. Clearly, he was enjoying my frustration, my 
wanton need. 

"Damn you, Victor!" I nearly screamed. "This is so unfair!" 

"Is it?" he challenged. "Will you think the same when you are finally 
permitted to cum again?" 

"Yes!" 

"Are you certain about that," he challenged again, "or will you be so 
consumed with finally experiencing an orgasm again that you will forget 
your place as a slave?" 

So that was it. He was simply using my orgasms – rather, my prohibition 
against having and enjoying an orgasm – as a new way to exert his 
dominance over me. I had actually expected that, but to hear him state it 
himself surprised me – surprised me enough to temporarily squelch my 
wanton need. 

...until we returned to our apartment. There, as soon as he had locked out 
the mundane world, my big brother ordered me to my knees before him, and 
without needing to be commanded, I released his hardening manhood and 
ingested him, reveling in the feel and taste of him inside my mouth, 
reveling once again in my submissive position to him, yet angry at him for 
denying me the what I wanted most while making me give him orgasm after 
orgasm after orgasm in the preceding weeks. 

In time, we moved to my bed, where we both stripped naked and I was 
ordered to truly fuck him, faster and harder than I ever had before. So 
great was my need that tears streamed down my heated cheeks as the 
pleasure generated my our quickening friction radiated from the point of 
our joining. And as the incestuous seed rose high into my body, I could 
take no pleasure in it, for his climax only frustrated me further, and I 
sobbed, loud and long, collapsing upon my Master and pleading with my 
broken voice. 

Ultimately, I was left alone on the bed, crying until my body had no more 
tears to shed. And then I felt it, quite unexpected: a sense of calm, a 
sense of servitude. In that moment, I knew that I existed to please my big 
brother, to please my Master in whatever way he defined, and that if my 
orgasm denial was the means to his pleasure, then I should and would 
gladly suffer it – if necessary, for decades. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 27
by WFEATHER ©

"You most definitely need to get fucked." 

I stopped at the center of campus, my jaw hanging open in disbelief. 

"I mean it," Samantha said, barely skipping a beat and tugging at my hand 
to drag me toward class. "For several weeks, you've been... what's the 
word? You've been fidgety, on edge, nervous, a bit bitchy which is not 
like you... Trust me, I know, and I can clearly see that you need to get 
fucked." 

My friend's sex life was not a secret between us. I knew much of what she 
had done previously, and she shared with me everything she did now that 
she was in college. I had grown used to her comments, like, "I'd love to 
kneel before him and have him cum in my face!" or "With her long fingers, 
I'll bet she'd fill me quite nicely if she wanted to fist me!" 

If only Samantha knew the truth about my sex life. She had no clue that I 
was getting fucked almost every day since late August... by my own twin. 
She had no clue that despite the prohibition against my having an orgasm, 
I was getting fucked fairly regularly. 

So, Samantha was wrong. In reality, I most definitely needed to cum. 

And simply thinking about my need to cum made me even hornier, made it 
even more difficult to focus on the boring professor's monotone voice, 
made it even more imperative that I return to the apartment as quickly as 
possible after class. 

"...he shoved his cock in my mouth," I overheard from one of two young 
women sitting in front of me on the BART train, "and I could taste my own 
cum on him!" 

I tried – with difficulty – to focus harder on the book I was reading, but 
felt my nipples harden once again. My mind was no longer filled with the 
images of life on a futuristic space station, but with my big brother 
withdrawing from my dripping body and quickly forcing his cock into my 
mouth, making me taste myself upon him. 

"Did he cum in your mouth?" the other young woman asked, clearly 
interested in her friend's tale. 

The announcement of the next station drowned out any response, but in my 
mind's eye, I saw my big brother withdraw from my mouth and return to his 
previous position, filling me with such a brutal thrust that I gasped 
aloud. 

Quickly covering for my outburst, I feigned surprise at what I was 
reading, trying to keep my eyes upon the book even though I noticed 
several passengers, including the two young women in front of me, turn to 
look at me. 

When I finally reached the apartment, my need was so great that I knew I 
had to masturbate. But I opened the door and saw my big brother and Master 
sitting at the table, writing something. 

He looked up at me. "How is my horny baby sister?" he asked sweetly with a 
smile, a false innocence in his voice. 

"Frustrated!" I closed and locked the door, my frustration so great that I 
was very nearly ready to debase myself entirely and throw myself at his 
feet, crying and begging to be permitted to cum. 

Even worse, given that he was already home, I could not really masturbate 
like I had planned. 

"Come here," he ordered, standing. I set my backpack on the sofa and moved 
into his embrace, enjoying the feel of his arms around me yet becoming 
even hornier just from the close proximity. 

Without expecting it, I began to cry. A single tear trickled from my left 
eye, and the horniness within me was instantly joined by another emotion: 
shame. My need was so great that I was ashamed of my inability to complete 
my unusual task without crying, without a silent begging for mercy. 

"You've done well thus far," my big brother whispered to me. "I know you 
need to cum, and this lengthy period of denial has been really difficult 
for you, but you need to hold out just a little longer, understood?" 

"Yes." My voice cracked, and the tears came unabated. I sobbed long and 
hard as my big brother held me, stroking my hair, allowing me to unleash 
my sexual frustration upon his chest. 

When my tears finally ceased, he lifted my chin to cause me to look up at 
him, and he kissed away my tears. He sometimes commanded me harshly as my 
Master, but he always loved me sweetly as my big brother, and both of his 
roles made me feel more at ease compared to when I had entered the 
apartment. 


 
Twins in College Ch. 28
by WFEATHER ©

"Please, stop teasing me!" 

My big brother and Master had bought an under-the-mattress restraint 
system, consisting of a wide strap surrounding the mattress with a pair of 
D-rings, one on either side of my head. I wore a blindfold as well as the 
pair of fur-lined wrist cuffs he had bought recently and now used for the 
first time with a pair of double-end snap hooks to secure my wrist cuffs 
to the D-rings. 

Otherwise, I was completely nude... and completely frustrated. The pair of 
vibrating bullets inside me churned at the lowest possible setting, 
keeping me aroused without permitting me to cum and exponentially 
increasing the frustration I had felt for weeks. 

All I wanted to do was cum!!! 

My Master simply stood beside the bed, undressing slowly, drawing out the 
process, smirking at me the entire time and clearly taking great pleasure 
in my inability to achieve an orgasm on my own. My legs were free, and I 
tried to rub them together in just the right way to increase the pleasure 
building within me, yet it was not enough. 

"Master, please!!!" 

My entire body felt hot – not because of the slow rumbling of the two 
bullets lodged inside me, but because he had finally done it: My Master 
had succeeded at last in reducing me to whining, begging to be permitted 
to cum. 

It had been hard, it had been difficult, it had been almost crippling at 
times to come to terms with my exponentially-growing need, but at last, I 
had made it through the terrible weeks. 

...and my Master and big brother was mercilessly teasing me!!! 

Instinctively, I was pulling at my bonds, but clearly unable to free my 
wrists so that I could finger myself to climax. I began to babble 
incessantly, continually pleading for the orgasm I had so properly earned, 
debasing myself even more. The bedroom seemed even hotter, yet 
subconsciously I knew that it was due to my ever-growing embarrassment. 

Then, fully nude, he left me. 

"No! Please! Come make me cum!!!" 

I was ignored, my pleas falling upon deaf ears. It was too much to bear, 
and as I felt the pool of wetness expanding beneath me, still more wetness 
seeped from my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. My need was so great that 
I was shamelessly crying, fighting my bonds vigorously in the process, 
angry at my forbidden lover for imposing this completely unfair sentence 
upon me, my need to cum so desperate that I felt like I was crawling 
through the desert and nearly dead from severe dehydration. 

I was a sobbing, blubbering idiot, stilled and defeated upon the bed, when 
I felt my big brother sit beside me upon the bed. Opening my tearful eyes, 
my blurry vision saw him lean forward, and I felt him begin to wash me 
with a cool, wet washcloth. It was a beautiful, touching, loving moment, 
an act which helped to calm me and which demonstrated that despite the 
cruel sentence I had endured, he still cherished and respected me. 

When the washcloth finally was moved over my sex, I moaned aloud, lifting 
myself to press against the washcloth. Just that simple motion caused 
sparks of delight to spiral outward from the base of my torso. 

"From now on, whenever we are in private, you are to call me either 'Sir' 
or 'Master,' is that understood?" 

He held his hand in place, allowing me to hump the cool-but-warming 
washcloth. My breath and my heartbeat were both quickening, my ears not 
entirely focusing upon his words. 

"Slave, did you hear me?" 

The "s" word definitely caught my attention. 

"From now on, slave, whenever we are in private, you are to call me either 
'Sir' or 'Master,' is that understood?" 

I nodded, not trusting my voice as he pressed his hand a bit harder 
against my weeping womanhood. 

"Good enough." He retracted his hand and tossed the washcloth onto his 
desk chair, then removed my wrist cuffs from the snap hooks, allowing me 
full use of my arms. 

"Go ahead," he said, "make yourself cum." He smiled, warmly and lovingly. 
"You definitely deserve it." 

My hands had begun working feverishly between my legs when he left the 
bedroom. I rolled onto my stomach, humping my hands as my fingers toyed 
with me and plunged into my body. In well under thirty seconds, I was 
screaming into a pillow, enjoying the first orgasm in weeks, my world was 
reduced to my body and my voice, as everything else in my life stopped. I 
was detached from the world as one climax slid into a second into a third. 


When I at last returned to reality, utterly spent yet still incredibly 
horny, I felt my big brother's hand upon my back, gently stroking along my 
spine. I needed several minutes to finally calm and recover, during which 
time I melted under his touch, forgiving him at last for the weeks of 
denial. 

"On your hands and knees." 

Slowly, I complied, my body not quite wanting to cooperate after such an 
intense string of orgasms. I rested my forehead on a pillow, looking 
upside-down down the length of my body. 

...and I was absolutely stunned, for my Master was affixing to me the 
belly chain with its detachable handcuffs charm – the same belly chain 
which had been affixed to my bedroom wall since our return from our 
Valentine's Day mini-vacation in San Francisco. 

"Oh my..." My voice suddenly failed me as tear of joy filled my eyes. 

We made love for the first time as Master and slave, and throughout, once 
I had found my voice again, I kept repeating "Master!" again and again and 
again, climaxing twice more before he filled me with his loving essence, 
claiming me as his, owning me as I had secretly dreamed for months. 

My big brother had been my forbidden lover, and had finally become my 
Master, and my joy overflowed my eyes for a long, long, long time. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 29
by WFEATHER ©

"What do you think of her?" 

My eyes followed the nod of my big brother's head and spotted the 
out-of-place person in question: a young jogger, perhaps twenty years old 
at the most, wearing rather short red shorts and a pink t-shirt which had 
been raggedly sliced off below the breasts so that her taut stomach and 
lower back were plainly visible. Her long swaying hair was pulled back in 
a ponytail which sprouted through the hole at the back of her Oakland A's 
baseball cap. Her breasts were about the same size as mine, providing a 
nice visual enticement to watch her jog toward and ultimately past us. 

"So, what do you think of her?" 

This was the latest game between me and my Master: commenting on the 
various young women we saw. We sat at a table by the main window of a 
Starbucks in San Francisco's financial district, sipping our coffees and 
watching the people passing by. 

"She's a bit tall," I noted. "It would probably be easier for you to fuck 
her standing up than it is to fuck me while standing." 

We both grinned at my comment. If anyone sitting near us was listening, 
they did not react to what I had just said... or to the fact that my 
Master and I clearly appear to be related by blood. But what was most 
important is that I could make such a comment without fear that my loving 
Master actually would fuck another girl. I had no qualms with him admiring 
other girls, so long as he continued to follow the "look but don't touch" 
concept. 

...and I knew he would, which is why, between the support post for the 
table and the window itself, I brushed my ankle against his. He smiled 
with his eyes as he took another sip of his espresso. 

*****

As we rode BART back to Berkeley, despite all the people we had seen that 
day, that one particular jogger remained fixed in my mind. I remembered 
the sculpted leg muscles, the bluish-green eyes darting about to ensure 
she was not about to run into anyone, the nipples discernable despite her 
shirt and bra, the reddish-orange coloring at the end of her bouncing 
jet-black ponytail, the pale lips parted to facilitate her breathing. 

I wanted to see her again - not in my mind, but in the flesh. I wanted to 
see her completely naked, to compare myself to her, essentially to ensure 
that I was "better" than her, to assure myself that my big brother and 
Master would never leave me. 

...not that he was likely to leave me, in actuality, but somehow, there 
was something about her which made me a little cautious, a little nervous, 
a little jealous, but I could not quite place my finger on it. 

No one was sitting near us, so when I felt my Master take my hand in his, 
I did not flinch or withdraw. I welcomed his gentle gesture, especially at 
that moment, especially given the concerns floating around in my head. 
Then as he guided my hand over high thigh and to the front of his jeans, I 
smiled to myself, looking at the growing indentation I was caressing with 
his guidance. 

All too soon, our stop was announced, and I tried to retract my hand, but 
he held it against the bulge for a few seconds before releasing me. It was 
subtle, but it was a silent warning nonetheless: "Do not forget your 
place, slave. I did not tell you to stop." I nodded meekly, my eyes 
downcast, my expression solemn. 

As we stepped off the subterranean train, I thought again of the jogger, 
but I also thought of what had just taken place. I tried to imagine the 
jogger acquiescing to my Master's whims, tried to imagine her gladly 
suffering pain for his enjoyment or accepting humiliation in the hopes of 
receiving carnal pleasure afterward, but I could not. There was simply 
something about her, something intangible, which told me that she would 
not willingly submit like that - not to him, not to anyone. 

On the other hand, I had one very important advantage over her: blood. 
Throughout my dating career, I had been subconsciously looking for someone 
just like my big brother, and he had simultaneously been subconsciously 
looking for someone just like me. Once we both realized that the person we 
each wanted lived under the same roof and breathed the same air, our lives 
became even more heavily intertwined than for the typical set of twins. 

I could not imagine ever "going back" to a more traditional, 
socially-acceptable relationship. And as my big brother and Master 
ascended the stairs to street level, I could not envision him ever "going 
back," either. 

My Master might look elsewhere on occasion, but he would only ever touch 
me. 

 
Twins in College Ch. 30
by WFEATHER ©

My big brother had just escorted me home from the video store after the 
midnight closing. As he sat on my bed and watched me fondly, I took off my 
shoes and socks, and then removed the skirt. I was just about to remove 
the t-shirt when he spoke up: 

"Don't. I have an idea. Stay here." 

And with that cryptic statement, I was left on my own, standing in my 
bedroom wearing a t-shirt, bra, and thong, wondering just what my Master 
had in mind for me now, yet growing excited from the anticipation. It was 
an odd moment for an idea to suddenly come to him, especially so late at 
night, so something about what I was wearing must have triggered a memory. 


A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a single blindfold. "Roll up 
the bottom of your t-shirt so that your stomach shows," he instructed as 
he approached me. 

I thought about that for a moment. "Should I knot it instead to make sure 
it stays in place?" 

"That would be even better." 

As I obeyed, I wondered what his being able to see my stomach had to do 
with whatever he had in mind. Granted, it made my waist chain visible, and 
ensured that he could fully see my thong, but beyond those two points, I 
was a bit confused. Nonetheless, I knotted the front of the t-shirt just 
below my breasts. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I saw that it made my 
chest seem a little more prominent, and I assumed that this was exactly 
what my Master had wanted to see by having me do this. 

"Good," I heard him say, which turned my attention back to him. "Now put 
this on." 

He handed me the blindfold, and I donned it as instructed. Once it was 
properly in place, he took me by the hand and led me from my bedroom. He 
then stopped me, put his hands on my shoulders, and practically spun me in 
place, turning me around so quickly and for so long that I very quickly 
became dizzy. If I had been able to see anything, my world would have had 
a constantly-moving horizon, like being on a boat in the middle of an 
ocean. But then I was stopped – rather, my body was stopped, but my mind 
was still spinning – and led elsewhere in our haven of incest, until I was 
backed into a corner. 

"Sit." I complied, my mind still revolving. 

"Knees up. Spread your legs wide." I obeyed. 

"Put your right hand on your right knee, and slip your left hand inside 
your thong and play with yourself." 

"Yes, Master." 

I complied, the earlier anticipation having already made me a little wet. 
I enticed more desire from my body, then brought some of that moisture up 
to my clitoris, the initial touch causing a soft gasp to escape my lips. 

I could hear my loving Master walk away, leaving me sitting on the floor 
in a corner with a hand down the front of my thong. For my being in such a 
compromising position, I had assumed that he would be nearby, watching me, 
yet I could not even feel the caress of his eyes upon me. But I simply 
cast that issue aside, focusing instead upon the task quite literally at 
hand. 

An unknown amount of time passed as I continued to pleasure myself, 
continued to whimper and gasp and moan softly. 

"My baby sister is such a brazen slut." 

At the sound of his voice, I jumped, startled since I had not heard him 
return to me. But even as he chuckled at my reaction, my hand continued 
its work within my thong, continued to draw out more of my growing desire 
as I rocked against the questing digits. 

The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter startled me again, and for a 
moment, I felt as if I could not breathe. I was no stranger to my big 
brother's camera, but it had been quite some time since he had taken any 
pictures of me – illicit or otherwise – so that particular sound was quite 
a surprise. He chuckled again, then took several other pictures. 

Now I understood why he had wanted me in this position. I redoubled my 
efforts, my breaths breathier, my moans moanier, my squeals squealier. My 
body moved with greater force, greater need, against the fingers which 
penetrated me, the hand which cupped my sex. And the shutter continued to 
click, its unmistakable sound seemingly thunderous in my ears. 

Then the repeating sound of the shutter abruptly ceased, but my 
performance continued. I was breathing faster and louder, my breasts 
straining against the knotted t-shirt. And before I knew it, I heard a 
masculine groan, then felt my Master's incestuous love upon me, the white 
ropes binding me to him, the sticky warmth upon my stomach and forearm and 
left thigh as he continued to unleash his dominance upon his willing 
slave. 

"Make yourself cum," I was commanded. 

It did not take much longer for my body to succumb to the throes of 
ecstasy. Commanded by my Master, especially with his own cum upon me, how 
could I not comply? 

*****

When I awoke in my Master's bed in the morning, he was sitting at his 
desk, doing something on the laptop. When he heard me stir, he turned to 
greet me with a smile, then stood and approached the bed, allowing me to 
see the screen of the laptop... 

Clearly, he had already uploaded the pictures he had taken, for on his 
desktop was a wallpaper of me, sitting on the carpeted floor in the corner 
created by a closed door and an adjacent wall, blindfolded, t-shirt 
knotted below the straining breasts, my mouth agape, head thrown back, 
back arched a hand down the front of my dampened thong, knees bent, thighs 
parted, toes curled, with splatters of white upon my stomach and forearm 
and left thigh. 

It was quite a surprise to see myself like that, to see myself as my 
Master had seen me mere hours earlier, especially since I had never heard 
the shutter after he had coated me with his seed. In a way, it was 
embarrassing, a compromising picture, but mostly, it was beautiful, sexy, 
arousing. 

...and I wanted to do it again – for my Master, of course, but especially 
for me. 


Twins in College Ch. 31
by WFEATHER ©

In a way, it could well have been any given tender family moment on any 
given Sunday morning. 

I knelt upon the floor between my big brother's thighs, my hands clasped 
together in my lap. Leaning back against the sofa, my eyes were closed as 
my ears focused upon the music of Hamasaki Ayumi. I probably had a slight 
smile upon my face, for "Bold & Delicious" was definitely one of my 
favorite songs. 

Slowly, deliberately, my big brother brushed my hair. He took his time, 
his fingers reveling in the feel of my many strands, his heart being 
poured into the act. It was such a simple thing, having my hair brushed, 
especially by him, but it meant so much to me – to us both – that my heart 
pounded faster than usual, threatening to burst from the love swelling and 
pulsing within. 

I sighed contentedly, reveling in the feel of the bristles against my 
scalp, the feel of my big brother's thighs pressed against my arms, the 
feel of the gentle tugs on my hair. I knew, deep within, that this was 
where I belonged, even though the sigh reignited a most unusual pair of 
aches. 

Granted, to an outsider, seeing a big brother slowly brushing his baby 
sister's hair would not seem at all unusual – especially in large families 
where the older children are expected to help take care of their much 
younger siblings, I am fairly certain that such activities take place 
quite often between an older brother and his younger sister. However, 
there were several significant differences to the scene we presented to 
the imagined outsider. 

First, my big brother is indeed older than me... but only by a few 
minutes. I have absolutely no doubt that he essentially shoved me aside to 
exit the womb first, asserting his dominance over me even before either of 
us had taken a single breath on our own. 

Second, kneeling between my big brother's thighs, I was completely naked, 
fully exposed, just the way he wanted me, and just the way I wanted to be 
– both for him and even for me. All I wore was the waist chain, the symbol 
of my submission to my big brother, my forbidden lover, my Master. 

Third, the tugs of my hair did not hurt, but the tugging of my nipples had 
created a dull ache. Gravity was working quite nicely, pulling the 
weighted nipple clamps and thus pulling at my breasts, but the pain had 
become bearable, and even somewhat comforting in conjunction with the 
tugging and brushing of my hair. 

In addition, my wrists were secured by metal handcuffs, the key on the 
floor about eighteen inches in front of me. "When you've had enough," my 
Master had instructed me before starting to brush my hair, "just lean 
forward and pick up the key, then straighten up and present it to me, and 
I'll release you from the handcuffs and the nipple clamps. Of course, that 
will cause the weights to sway and that will almost certainly hurt your 
succulent nipples even more. The choice is yours, of course, slave." 

An outsider would almost definitely find the scene quite perverse: a 
beautiful young woman, naked and handcuffed and silently and calmly 
suffering with a slight smile curling her lips upward, kneeling between 
her big brother's legs as he brushed her hair on a calm and serene Sunday 
morning. Most people would not find the scene "normal." Yet to me, and 
certainly to my big brother and Master, the scene was not just normal – it 
was actually quite tender, full of love and trust and devotion and 
respect, allowing us to connect on a deeper level even though I wore the 
weighted nipple clamps for the very first time and the handcuffs for the 
first time in several months. 

Setting the brush aside, my big brother and Master leaned forward. 
Wrapping his arms around my from behind, he whispered sweet nothings into 
my ear, his fingertips stroking the sides of my breasts, pressing my 
feminine swells enough to jostle the clamps and reignite the pain 
torturing my proud nipples. I cried out softly in reaction to the renewed 
sensations emanating from my chest, but otherwise I did not flinch. 

Such a perverse scene, at least to an outsider, yet I relished it, I 
craved it. The contrast between the innocence of having my hair brushed 
and the naughtiness of being bound and hurt by my forbidden lover filled 
me with an unexpected joy. I wanted to remain there like that for hours, 
for days, for centuries, suffering both because of and for my loving 
Master... and not-so-secretly adoring every precious second of the taboo 
experience. 

In time, he straightened again behind me. Picking up the brush once more, 
he resumed his previous self-appointed task, and I imagined the proverbial 
outsider turning crimson from watching our most unusual expression of 
love. 


 
Twins in College Ch. 32
by WFEATHER ©

We were back at the family home, spending not quite a full week with our 
parents. 

At least, that was how we justified it to them in making our travel plans. 


We were home for a few days. The best my big brother and I could muster 
were a few stolen moments here and there, my favorite being the morning 
when, with our parents both in the kitchen fixing breakfast, my forbidden 
lover entered my bedroom, pinned my body to the wall beside the open 
bedroom door, and humped me as he molested my willing body and swallowed 
my joyous whimpers. 

Fortunately, our parents both recognized just how much my big brother and 
I wanted to return to our favorite camping spot in the mountains, and 
graciously allowed us to go spend two days there. I had not expected they 
would allow it, as we were only visiting our parents for such a relatively 
short time, returning to California on a Friday so that my big brother and 
I could both return to our jobs on Saturday. 

As my fraternal twin finished packing the truck on a Tuesday afternoon, my 
mother caught me packing in my bedroom and gave me some advice: 

"Scream for him, loudly," she said with a wink and a grin. "He will really 
love that!!!" 

I blushed, profusely. Receiving sex advice from my own mother was 
incredibly awkward at best, even though she both knew about and definitely 
approved of the forbidden relationship. But at least I still had one key 
secret: She did not know that my fraternal twin was also my Master. 

When I finally slid into the truck and sat beside my Master once again, I 
was full of excitement. My body was practically vibrating with 
anticipation of our campout and of the illicit adventures we would have. 

And, just as importantly to me, I was looking forward to screaming for him 
– screaming of my love and my pain for his enjoyment, screaming loud 
enough to scare away any animals who might be in the area, screaming until 
I practically lost my voice and did not need a gag to be muted. 

"You're grinning, baby sister," he noted as he started the engine. "Is 
there something I should know about?" 

"Just looking forward to truly letting go," I admitted, quite aware of the 
smile upon my face, "unleashing my voice and screaming for you again and 
again." 

"Hmmm... I think I'd like that!" 

We laughed together for a moment, then began the journey toward our 
favorite camping spot. 

Once we were out of town, my domination began. 

"Off with the shorts and the thong," my Master commanded. That did not 
bother me much at all, as no one would be able to see me below the rib 
cage unless they were in a passing semi. I slipped off my sandals and 
began to undress as ordered, leaving the shorts and the thong between us 
on the bench seat. 

I looked at my Master and saw his smile as his eyes glanced over me and 
confirmed my compliance. 

"Do you like what you see, Master?" I asked in my best possible "innocent 
little girl" voice, smiling sweetly and batting my eyes. 

"Definitely," he replied, quickly returning his eyes to the pavement 
before us. "Now, I want you to make yourself wet." 

I maneuvered to lean in the corner created by the door and the back of the 
seat, my hair being whipped around my face by the wind. A slight concern 
passed through my mind at doing such naughty things in public, but no one 
but my big brother and Master could see anything which society dictates 
must always be hidden from view, so I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, 
and began to finger myself. 

By the time we arrived at the base of the mountain, I had brought myself 
to the brink of orgasm at least six times, but had disappointedly obeyed 
my Master's commands and denied myself the release I so desperately 
craved. It was actually a letdown to don the thong and shorts once more, 
and that emotion surprised me greatly. 

Perhaps I had a deep-hidden desire to be discovered in a compromising 
position by strangers. Perhaps I was an exhibitionist at heart. 

*****

The campsite set up, the dinner dishes washed and put away, the bear bag 
hung, I straddled my Master as I massaged his bare back. We each wore only 
our swimwear, but I had a strong feeling that even that scant clothing 
would be shed before nightfall. 

Movement at the edge of my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I 
slowly turned my head to see a deer, a doe, slowly approaching the stream. 
She kept an eye on us as she moved cautiously, remaining alert, vigilant. 
"Deer to your right," I whispered, and my Master slowly turned his head in 
that direction. 

In a way, it felt like the calm before the storm. We both watched with 
interest as the doe made her way to the stream, dipped her head, and began 
to drink. My hands never stopped their work, functioning on auto-pilot as 
my attention was focused upon the wary creature gracing us with her 
presence. I wondered if she would return later, if our choice of campsite 
violated her sense of territory, if she would flee the state once my 
Master made me scream for him. 

*****

My ass was truly aflame, certainly impressively marked by the thin branch 
my Master wielded. Tears cascaded down my face, and rough tree bark 
scratched at my arms and the front of my naked body, for I was secured to 
the tree with rope linking the D-rings on the wrist cuffs and ensuring 
that I was continually hugging the tree. 

"I will not stop until you scream for me," he had threatened with his 
kind, soothing voice. 

I had lost count of how many strikes I had already endured from the thin 
branch. Ultimately, it did not matter. Either the fiery pain would become 
so unbearable that I used my safeword, or I would essentially admit defeat 
and scream loud and long for him. 

As it was, my body was shuddering almost violently in the aftermath of 
each bite of the thin branch. Each strike added a new line of searing pain 
to my existence, causing me to grunt loudly through gritted teeth. Even 
without the bonds, I would almost certainly have been hugging the tree 
tightly, somehow drawing a meager ray of comfort from its steady strength. 


Watching the doe had been the calm; this was indeed the storm. My tears 
fell unabated, my heart thundered rapidly, my breathing was rapid and 
shallow, and I struggled in my bonds even as I firmly held the trunk 
before me. 

More than anything else, this was a test. My Master was specifically 
testing my limit with this branch – he had said so before starting to hurt 
me. Yet, although this was simply a test, the level of pain was unlike 
anything I had felt before, giving the scene the semblance of a harsh 
punishment. 

Mentally, I was in turmoil. I could not decide if I could endure any more, 
yet I did not want to give in and admit defeat, whether via safeword or 
via scream. 

But then, suddenly, I felt as if I was floating. My body felt detached 
from my mind. The pain did not seem so bad, and seemed to actually be 
lessening even though I could still feel the bites of the branch... 

And then, I was laying upon my Master, his hands caressing my 
sweat-dampened back as a gentle cool breeze wafted over us. My ass still 
felt ablaze, and I was sniffling between whimpers into his neck. Nighttime 
enveloped us completely, with only the small campfire providing any light, 
and even the flames had nearly regressed into smoldering coals. 

It took some time for me to find the strength to lift myself up on my arms 
and gaze upon the loving face of my big brother and Master. His expression 
was one of concern laced with desire, and I felt a telltale solidification 
and lengthening beneath me. 

"I don't remember," I said in barely a whisper, not having truly found my 
voice yet. "Did I scream? Did I safeword?" 

He shook his head solemnly. "You had taken so much already and had not 
screamed and hadn't used your safeword, and I was afraid to give you any 
more so that the markings and the pain will be hopefully gone by the time 
we return. We don't want our parents to know that I've been purposely 
hurting you, even with your consent" 

I simply nodded my acceptance of his decision and rested my head upon his 
shoulder once more, flattening myself upon him. Only his swim trunks 
prevented a full skin-on-skin sensation. I sighed into his neck, my warm 
breath reflected back into my face. 

In a way, I was sad, for my limit had not been discovered, and that had 
been the point of the scene. But in a way, I was sincerely thankful that 
my Master was so practical, keeping my best interests in mind even when I 
might hate him for it... such as when he had ordered me to bed on the 
night before an exam. 

But that was yet another way that my Master, my big brother, my fraternal 
twin, my confidant, my greatest fan, had definitely earned my heartfelt 
respect and my undying love. 

*****

In the morning, I was kneeling beside the ashes of the campfire, purifying 
the water I had just drawn from the stream, when I saw my Master emerge 
from the tent. He came to me, as naked as the day we were born, and knelt 
behind me, enveloping me in his loving arms as I finished my 
self-appointed task. 

We remained like that for several long minutes, enjoying each other's 
company, listening to the sounds of Nature all around us. I leaned back 
into my Master's chest, smiling to myself as his hands moved to my chest 
to fondle my breasts through my bikini bra. 

"What shall we do today, Master?" I finally asked quietly, my hands upon 
his in a subtle signal for him to squeeze my breasts a little harder. 

"After breakfast and a short swim," he replied in my ear, "I think a hike 
to the top of the mountain would be in order." 

"That sounds great," I replied. 

His hands began to travel down my torso, leaving me fondling my own 
breasts, until they reached my waist chain, my "collar." I purposely had 
not worn the charms on this visit home, so as not to alarm our parents if 
they were to see the handcuffs charm in particular, but just the fact that 
I wore the "collar" and the fact that my Master was fingering it reminded 
me yet again of my place in our forbidden hierarchy. 

"Does your ass still hurt?" he asked with genuine concern in his voice. 

"Only a little," I replied, "more of a slight ache than an actual hurt. 
But I'm sure I'm still well marked. I can particularly feel it if I sit or 
if I lay on my back." 

"That's good to know." He gave me a gentle squeeze, then released me and 
stood, moving to stand in front of me with my face directly in front of 
his crotch. 

No verbal command was necessary. I looked up at my Master with a sweet 
smile, then accepted him into my mouth, eagerly anticipating my illicit 
breakfast. 

*****

The view from the summit was spectacular. We ate in silence, gazing all 
around us, my Master occasionally taking pictures (and not always pictures 
of the scenery) with his digital camera. When lunch was finished, we put 
the trash into the backpack, then we both leaned back against the trunk of 
the lone tree at the top of the mountain, a tree which clearly had 
weathered many a literal storm and was too damn stubborn to give way to 
destiny. 

As my Master held me close and I rested my head upon his shoulder, I 
smiled to myself, thinking about how the tree was just like us. Clearly, 
the tree was strong and able to survive on its own despite the many 
obstacles brought by the weather over the decades. We were strong as well, 
weathering the norms of society yet still maintaining a solid relationship 
while simultaneously surviving on our own in our first year away from the 
nest. 

"A lot has happened in the past year," my big brother noted softly, giving 
me a gentle squeeze. Once again, the quasi-telepathic link between twins 
made its presence known. 

"That's true," I responded, stroking his chest directly over his heart. 
"When we were camping on this mountain last summer, I had both a big 
brother and a lover, but not a Master." 

I did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. 

*****

"That's right, bitch, scream!" 

Between the pain of having my hair pulled so roughly and my body 
repeatedly filled so rapidly, I continued to scream, my throat feeling 
raw, my voice beginning to wane. Tears of delight clouded my vision of the 
flickering flames before me. I clawed at the ground, highly aware of my 
breasts whipping back and forth beneath me. 

"Master!!!" Then I wailed loud and long as another climax wracked my 
senses. 

With a triumphant bellow, my Master finally unleashed his white-hot love 
inside me. Our voices sang a primal duet which seemed appropriately 
fitting in this location. It was a beautiful song to my ears, but probably 
sounded eerie and haunting to the residents of this mountainside – after 
all, they were likely not used to humans, especially two humans fucking 
viciously in the night. 

As I lay on the ground, attempting to recover both my breath and my voice 
as our combined love trickled from my well-used body, I felt truly owned, 
moreso than ever before. I also felt strangely satisfied and sated on a 
non-sexual level, for I had screamed for my Master at last. 

*****

In the morning, our lovemaking was long and slow and tender, the extreme 
opposite of what had taken place during the night. Even as we were packing 
everything for our departure, my body still trembled randomly, as if 
remembering the passions my big brother and Master had unlocked. 

Once again, it was with great sadness that I left the mountain behind us. 
Once we were on the highway and he would not need to shift gears for a 
while, he took my hand in his. That was all the communication we needed, 
and it helped to bring a smile back to my face. 

*****

After a few more days of brief stolen moments, we were finally on a plane 
headed back to California. I wanted so desperately to cuddle in my 
Master's arms, but somehow was able to will myself into waiting until we 
had at last returned to our apartment. 

As I was unpacking my small suitcase, my Master stepped into my bedroom. 
In his hand, he held the same thin branch. 

We both smiled as one. 

The pillow certainly received an earful that night. 


 
Twins in College Ch. 33
by WFEATHER ©

I was on my back upon the sofa, my head in my Master's lap, his hand 
gently stroking my hair as we rested in the darkness. We were both fully 
nude, our combined passions trickling from my body, the scent of our 
recent lovemaking quite pungent in the air. 

"I think it's time..." he said quietly, then fell silent once more. I kept 
waiting for him to finish his thought, but he did not for a long time. 

"I think it's time," he finally resumed, "that we take the next step." 

I was not quite sure what he meant. "'Take the next step' and get 
married?" I asked quietly. "I highly doubt the State of California would 
allow a sister and brother to marry each other." 

"Actually, I had another 'next step' in mind. I was thinking about us 
moving to another place." 

We had occasionally discussed this over the previous few months. Our lease 
would expire before the end of the summer, so we would need to either 
renew or move. 

I thought about it for a while. "We've made so many memories here," I said 
honestly, "and in a way, I'd like to stay here. It would make the memories 
more 'real,' at least to me." 

I could hear my big brother's smile; I could feel it in the way his hand 
stroked my cheek. "But what about creating new memories... perhaps even 
'better' memories? If we could stay in this same neighborhood, would you 
be interested in potentially moving?" 

We had discussed this issue previously as well: Where would we live if we 
moved out of the apartment? Certainly, a small house would offer both more 
space and fewer neighbors in immediate earshot of my impassioned cries. 
There were apartment buildings within several blocks which offered more 
amenities, such as a pool and a weight room, but they were also 
astronomically more expensive even by Bay Area standards. 

"Do you have anything particular in mind?" I wondered aloud. Somehow, it 
seemed to me that my big brother and Master would not be presenting this 
scenario for discussion again unless he had a specific reason to do so. 

"Actually, yes," he admitted, the slight laugh in his voice evidence that 
he had anticipated my question. "There is one small house in particular 
along the edge of the park which I think would suit us nicely. Two floors 
plus basement, perhaps an attic as well. Small front porch. Compared to 
others, there's a little more space between it and the nearby houses. From 
what I can tell, the immediate neighbors are all students, renting houses 
or perhaps just rooms in the surrounding houses. It would mean walking an 
extra three blocks to the BART station every day to get to and from class, 
but I think it would work well for us." 

I thought about it for a while as I enjoyed the feel of my forbidden 
lover's hands upon me. I weighed several options, compared various 
scenarios, thought of the likely financial difference. 

What really weighed somewhat heavily on me was the financial aspect of a 
move. Our father had paid our entire first year's rent in advance for this 
apartment; after this lease lapsed, my big brother and I would be fully 
responsible for rent no matter where we lived. Plus, there would 
inherently be expenses involved with a move itself, even if just moving a 
few blocks away. We would also need to consider the time involved – the 
packing, the physical moving, and the unpacking, as well as informing 
friends, our respective colleges, and the companies we dealt with about 
our new address and phone number. 

"Let's go see this house tomorrow," I compromised. "Then we can revisit 
this issue. Fair enough, big brother?" 

"Fair enough, baby sister." 

I may be the slave, and he may be the Master, but we each knew when our 
status as siblings held top priority. This was indeed one of those times. 

*****

"I'll admit, I tend to frown upon students of the opposite sex living 
together here," our potential new landlord said honestly. "But since you 
two are twin brother and sister, I doubt I'd be seeing much 'drama' 
between you two... and less drama typically means much less to fix and no 
disputes over late rent payments. That's why I'm willing to offer the 
discount to you two." 

We stood on the porch, which was positioned five steps above street level. 
Across the street was the park, where a young mother was helping her baby 
boy to take his first steps as another young woman (a sister? a 
godmother?) watched fondly. Crime was fairly low in the neighborhood, 
especially around the park due to the many lights at night. 

We had been inside the house itself. There were a washer and dryer in the 
basement, along with the furnace and the water heater, all in one room; 
the other room was barren, with the exception of various O-rings sunk into 
the walls and ceiling. Simply seeing those O-rings had caused my loins to 
warm and my heart to beat a little faster as I imagined myself secured to 
them with chain or with rope, unable to protect myself, completely at my 
Master's whims to endure whatever pain or pleasure he chose to bestow upon 
me... 

The main floor offered a small kitchen, a small dining room, a small TV 
room, and a tiny coat closet. Upstairs were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and 
a pair of hallway closets. The house was already wired for cable in the TV 
room and in both bedrooms; one phone line was assigned to the house, but 
there were phone outlets in each bedroom and in the TV room. 

"And if you're willing to help keep the tiny yard looking nice, I'm 
willing to give you a further discount," she announced. "I keep a push 
mower and a small can of gas in the tiny shed out back, along with pruning 
shears and other things to maintain the shrubs and the flowers." 

I nodded imperceptibly to my fraternal twin. "I believe you have a pair of 
new tenants, Ms. Ovni," he stated proudly. 

Our new landlord smiled. 

*****

Cuddling in my big brother's bed that night, we chatted quietly about our 
new home... literally, a home. The apartment had been nice, and even with 
the discounts Ms. Ovni was willing to give us, it would still be a little 
more expensive than the apartment. However, we both felt positive about 
the move. In the morning, we would go back for one final look, and sign 
the lease if it all met with our approval. We could move in whenever we 
wanted, and she would only charge us a per diem rate to cover a partial 
month. 

"What did you think of those O-rings in the basement ceiling and walls?" I 
asked my Master. 

In the dim light emanating from his laptop's screensaver, I noticed his 
smile. "I was thinking about buying some chain and snap hooks, so you 
could be secured to the walls or the ceiling, completely vulnerable as I 
whip you, as I make your beautiful body turn an angry red." 

I felt the wetness begin, and I kissed his cheek. "I would love that, 
Master." 

He laughed softly. "You do realize," he noted, "that when most people move 
into a new place, they buy furniture, but we're thinking about buying 
things to restrain you and hurt you!" 

I buried my face in his neck, laughing with him. "So we're a unique set of 
twins," I responded. "That's all it means. We're just unique." 

*****

We became more unique in the morning, for that was when my big brother 
checked the California Lottery Web site and discovered that we were 
suddenly over $120,000 richer. His habit of buying lottery tickets had 
paid of at last. 

Not only were we incestuous fraternal twins with a Dom/sub relationship, 
we were also lottery winners. 

...or, almost. We did not match the Mega Ball, so we did not win the 
jackpot. 

Still, $120,000 is not something to dismiss very easily. 

Suddenly, paying rent ourselves no longer seemed like such a daunting 
responsibility. My big brother and I were both smiling as we signed the 
lease. 

*****

That night, as I knelt beneath his desk and further honed my fellatio 
skills, my Master visited numerous Web sites, making a list of 
bondage-related items to buy. I was not permitted to know what he was 
seeing, what he was considering purchasing, but it did not matter to me. I 
knew that he would make good choices and always keep my safety in mind. 

I smiled obscenely around his thick length, already imagining myself in 
various scenarios in the basement of what would soon be our first home 
together. Knowing how he thought, my Master would rather quickly turn the 
second room of the basement into a small dungeon. 

Sadly, I had to work at the video store the next day, so I would not be 
able to accompany my big brother to the East Bay Lottery District office 
to claim the prize. But that was just as well, for we both planned to 
continue to keep our part-time jobs, both because $120,000+ is not enough 
to live on forever, and especially because we wanted to keep ourselves 
grounded in reality. 

But at the moment, my reality was that my mouth was stuffed with my 
Master's manhood pressing against the top of my throat as he held my head 
in place with a single hand and continued his online shopping with his 
other hand. It was an arousing reality of the kinkiest, most forbidden 
kind, and I would not have exchanged it for anything else... not even a 
lottery jackpot. 


Twins in College Ch. 34
by WFEATHER ©

For several weeks, I had been honoring a new routine. It was one which 
meant that I would be hungry for a while, but I still somehow found a 
gentle pleasure in making my Master's Saturday mornings a little easier 
for him. 

The first step in the routine was perhaps my favorite: I was to awaken him 
with oral sex. Given the often-cool air of the Bay Area in the mornings 
and the fact that we almost always kept the bedroom window at least 
partially open during the night, it was somewhat difficult for me to draw 
down the covers and expose my naked body to the chilly air. But, with an 
eager heart knowing what was to come, I would indeed draw down the covers 
and slowly caress and kiss my way down my Master's enticing body, my nose 
filling with his unique scent. Once in position between his thighs, 
however, I would pull the covers over me as much as possible, then begin 
my Saturday morning compliance, gently holding his proud manhood between 
my fingers, suckling slowly at the tip, and ultimately lowering my head, 
ingesting him slowly, tasting him with my tongue, loving him with my 
mouth, fondling him with my hands. Between the cool air and the pleasure I 
was giving him, my Master would moan softly and shudder erotically, 
signaling his happiness, his desire. But when he had had enough for the 
moment, he would gently nudge my face away from his crotch, and the first 
step in the routine would officially end... although I typically would 
crawl back up his body and ultimately share a few lingering kisses with 
him before moving to the next step. 

The second step in the routine was for me to fix him breakfast. He never 
made a specific request; instead, it was my choice what to prepare for his 
morning meal. However, since I was not permitted to wear anything other 
than my waist chain – my "collar" – that meant that I could not go out to 
buy something, like freshly-made donuts or bagels, although I suppose that 
if I had asked, my Master would have allowed it. So, the choices came down 
to reheating leftovers or preparing something new; in either case, coffee 
was to be included, freshly ground from the ample stash we maintained and 
prepared not with the coffee maker, but with the French press instead 
("Coffee made from the French press tastes more 'pure,'" he argued, 
although I could not really tell the difference). 

Once breakfast was ready, including the coffee, I was to come to the 
bedroom to inform him of such. If we had slept in his bed during the 
night, he might be sitting at his desk at this point, checking e-mail or 
doing something else online; if we had slept in my bed during the night, 
he was still there, enjoying the warmth of the covers. In either case, 
while my mind had become accustomed by this point to the cool air in the 
apartment, my nipples would still be fairly hard, drawing his attention. 
Having informed him of the status of his morning meal, I would then return 
to the main room and kneel beside his chair, awaiting him. 

Usually within a few minutes, my Master would appear, wearing at least a 
robe but sometimes more. He would sit at the table and eat and drink while 
I knelt upon the floor, my stomach rumbling softly and my mouth watering. 
With the exception that I was naked and kneeling upon the floor, it could 
have easily been any typical Saturday morning shared by any given brother 
and sister, such was the banter that passed between us. On occasion, he 
might reach a hand down to pat my head as if I was a dog (perhaps I was, 
as he would occasionally call me his bitch), but otherwise, he left me 
alone aside from the conversation. 

In the end, when my Master had finished his breakfast, he would instruct 
me to clear away the dishes and prepare his morning dessert. After 
kneeling so long, it would be difficult at first for me to stand and move 
freely again. But soon, his dessert was ready for him: 

Me, on my back upon the table, my sex already a bit wet in anticipation of 
the culmination. 

By the time the Saturday morning routine had ended, I still would not have 
eaten, but I would have been eaten quite expertly, thoughts of food pushed 
far from my mind. 


 
Twins in College Ch. 35
by WFEATHER ©

My big brother and I had agreed that Sunday would be a day I submitted to 
him. "Twenty-four hours," he had informed me. "Twenty-four hours in which 
you are no longer my baby sister and I am no longer your big brother. 
Understood?" 

"Yes, Master," I had replied quietly, hoping that none of the other BART 
passengers could hear my response. With a smile, I added, "I'm looking 
forward to it already!" 

*****

It began at midnight. Actually, it began well before midnight. 

Per my big brother's request, I was to be wearing nothing underneath my 
skirt at midnight when he came to the video store to escort me home. So, 
in order to comply with the order, that is how I went to work that night: 
skirt, no thong. It reminded me of the Valentine's Day mini-vacation in 
Little Tokyo, when I had been his slave during our trip, when I had been 
required to go outside wearing a skirt but no thong. But while I was a 
little concerned that someone might look up my skirt if I needed to walk 
up the stairs to the second floor of the video store, I felt much more at 
ease this time about being pantyless – or, more specifically, thongless – 
in public. 

Shortly after midnight, while I was (appropriately) restocking the adult 
section, my Master stepped past the curtain and grinned at me. I knew he 
was wondering if I had followed his orders, so I stepped over one aisle so 
that I would not be seen if someone else stepped past the curtain, then 
briefly lifted my skirt long enough for my Master to be assured that I had 
indeed obeyed him. He simply winked, and soon stepped back into the main 
area of the store. 

I was the last employee to leave, which meant my Master and I were alone 
for a few minutes in the video store. Just as we were about to leave 
through the back door, he suddenly grabbed my arm, turned me quickly, 
backed me hard against the door, and began assaulting me with his hands 
and his mouth. He swallowed my squeals and my groans as he molested me, 
and I eagerly gave myself over to him, allowing him to do whatever he 
wanted with me, to me. He pressed a knee between my thighs, and I clutched 
him tightly as I slid back and forth upon his knee like a shameless harlot 
trying to entice a potential customer into paying more. 

Then, just as suddenly, the much-welcomed molestation was over. I was 
breathless as we stepped out of the store and I locked the back door. 
Then, arm-in-arm, we headed back to the apartment, back to our refuge from 
the world, and into my submission proper. 

"One hard-set rule for your twenty-four hours of submission," my Master 
informed me as we neared our apartment building. "You will wear at most 
only a thong and a collar, unless we decide to go out somewhere. 
Understand?" 

"Yes, Sir," I replied, trying to hide a smile, "I understand." 

Once in the apartment, my Master had not yet even closed the door when he 
ordered: "Strip." 

I quickly complied. Jacket, t-shirt, skirt, bra, shoes, socks – all my 
clothes were tossed aside and I stood before my Master, wearing only my 
waist chain. The entire time, he had stood leaning back against the door, 
his arms folded across his chest, his face nearly expressionless – with 
the exception of his eyes, sparkling brilliantly, filled with admiration 
and love. 

"To your knees." 

I knelt before him, looking up at him, smiling, trying to give him by best 
"innocent little girl" expression... although it certainly was not 
convincing given that a true innocent little girl would never be naked in 
front of her big brother. By instinct, I reached out to him, stroked his 
thighs through his jeans, but then he took my hands in his and pushed my 
hands away. 

"Make yourself cum," he instructed me. 

For a moment, I actually felt self-conscious and shy about masturbating 
for him. Rarely had I masturbated at all since my big brother and I had 
begun living together, as he was very, very diligent about taking care of 
my sexual needs. Yet, somehow, I was able to lick my fingers and move a 
hand between my thighs and a hand to my chest, starting the climb toward 
the peak of sexuality. 

Slowly, he dropped to his knees before me. "Don't stop," he ordered, 
lifting my chin with his fingertips. We gazed into each other's eyes, and 
my heart melted, the action of my hands faltering for just a moment, but 
he did not seem to notice. Leaning forward, he kissed me, directly between 
the eyes, his tongue just barely brushing against the bridge of my nose. 
Somehow, it was a catalyst, causing my hands to move a little faster, to 
stroke with a little more pressure. 

I was surprised when my Master's other hand brushed against mine, but then 
not at all surprised when two of his fingers slipped up inside me as his 
eyes held mine captive once more. He smiled at my gasp of delight, his 
eyes narrowing as a devious thought passed through his incestuous mind. 
His fingers moved slowly inside me as I worked at my clitoris, our eyes 
remaining locked together until, at last, I closed my eyes and gave a 
not-so-quiet unladylike groan from our combined actions at the base of my 
torso. 

Faster and faster our hands moved. He released my chin and brushed the 
hair away from my face, kissing my cheek as his fingers continued to rise 
into me. Then he withdrew from me, my body instantly crying at the lack of 
tactile contact with my loving Dominant, but I figured that he was not 
truly about to leave me. 

I was right. After crawling around me, my Master knelt behind me, 
clutching me tightly as my hands worked at my sex and my chest, causing me 
to finally slip over the edge and plunge into carnal bliss. "Don't stop... 
Keep cumming... Cum all you want..." His supportive words in my ear 
prolonged and renewed my orgasm, his presence making the experience more 
intense, more meaningful. And when it ultimately ended, as I slowly calmed 
and basked in the afterglow of my self-love, I felt my Master's love 
surrounding me as his hands caressed me, comforted me. 

"I hope you enjoyed that cum," I heard softly in my ear, the familiar 
voice seeming distant, "because you won't cum again for quite some time." 

"Yes, Master." 

The scent of my sexuality seemed particularly pungent to my nose, adding 
to the headiness of the experience. The warmth and closeness of my Master 
made me feel loved and desired. The wetness trickling from my body made me 
feel incredibly naughty. And I cherished it all. 

*****

I awoke in the middle of the night, naked as usual for sleeping. As if in 
a dream – likely because I was trapped in that hazy neverland between 
slumber and consciousness – I thought I heard the all-too-familiar male 
voice in my ear whispering: "Suck me." 

I had no idea what time it was. I only knew that it was still quite dark, 
nary a hint of daylight gracing the bedroom. Yet, somehow, my body moved 
of its own accord, without any conscious acts instigated by my brain, 
pushing aside the covers and moving into position to comply with the 
softly-spoken command. 

Without a doubt, it was far from the best fellation I had ever given. I 
never truly awoke, thus I had no chance to truly put my heart into my 
Master's gratification. He must have sensed it, because, much too soon for 
him to even come close to filling my mouth with his seed, he whispered 
simply, "That's enough for now," and tugged at my hair to compel me to 
again lay beside him. 

He pulled the covers back over us both, draped an arm over me and cupped a 
breast, and kissed the back of my head. My Master squeezed my breast 
gently, and then I was lost to slumber. 

*****

I awoke to my Master's kiss upon my lips. It took a few moments for my 
mind to truly return to full consciousness, but when it did, I began to 
eagerly return the kiss, my hands holding my Master's head in place above 
mine. 

After the kiss, we simply held each other close, our naked bodies pressed 
snugly together underneath the covers, as was likely happening in 
countless other bedrooms across the Bay Area on that Sunday morning. 
Nothing needed to be said, so nothing was said – our communication was 
tactile, and even that was more than enough to remind each other of the 
deep love and respect and devotion which formed the foundation of our 
unique relationship. 

But, eventually, his stomach rumbled, and just as we both began to giggle 
over that unexpected sound breaking the solemn quiet of our cuddle, my 
stomach responded in kind. 

"Time for breakfast," my Master noted. "Why don't you go fix some 
scrambled eggs for us." The question issued like a command was a 
not-so-subtle reminder that for the day, I was his slave, to do as he 
ordered, to endure as he willed. "And put on one of your black thongs," he 
added as I rose reluctantly from the warm bed. 

Wearing only the thong and my waist chain, I was soon fixing breakfast. I 
was barefoot and in the kitchen, but certainly – and fortunately – not 
pregnant... certainly the way my Master – and my big brother – wanted me. 

Just as I was adding some diced ham to the eggs, he came into the kitchen 
and stepped up behind me. I did not need to see it to know what he was 
placing around my neck: the thin "Baby"-emblazoned collar. Then he wrapped 
his arms around my middle, pressing himself against my backside, and I 
noted happily that he wore only briefs, so that he was just as exposed as 
I was... although his chest was certainly not quite as socially 
interesting as mine. 

"My baby sister and my loving slave," he whispered into my ear before 
sucking gently at the lobe. That I could fulfill both roles for him filled 
me with pride; that he could fulfill both complimentary roles for me 
filled me with desire. 

After breakfast, my Master wanted something I did not expect: a bath. 
Specifically, he wanted me to bathe him. So, sitting on the edge of the 
bathtub, I did. I took my time in bathing him as we chatted quietly. And 
when he finally rose up from the warm water, I dried him thoroughly, 
taking my time, ensuring his pleasure from the mundane act, and ultimately 
I helped him into his own thong, the same one he last wore during our 
Valentine's Day mini-vacation. 

After that, we each spent time on our own preparing for the day; all that 
was "neglected" was the clothing. And when I was ready at last, I found my 
Master standing at the table, with several coils of white rope before him. 


I knew what was in store for me next, and grinned in anticipation. The 
only questions were how he would apply the ropes to me, and whether I 
would be bound to something. 

"Let's start simple," he said. Shortly afterward, I stood before my Master 
with my forearms lashed together behind my back. The position inherently 
caused my chest to be forced forward a little, and from the glances I 
noticed, he certainly appreciated the "extra view." Then he stepped up to 
me, his arms encircling my waist, and we kissed. It was a slow, respectful 
kiss, yet it was also a frustrating kiss in a way, because I could not 
return his gentle touches. 

Additional rope was wound around my upper torso, framing my breasts 
nicely. My Master made sure to pull the rope up as much as possible into 
the soft undersides, a simple act which carried such significant meaning 
in a way, making me even more aware of my femininity. Once he had tied the 
ends of the rope in place, he took another rope of a much shorter length 
and used it to link the upper and lower bounds between my breasts, 
somewhat cinching them together. The confinement of the most visible signs 
of my sex made my sex feel warm and damp, and I smiled shyly as my Master 
tied the ends of the rope into a bow, as if my chest was a gift to be 
presented to a lucky recipient. 

"Kneel." 

I obeyed, purposefully being careful since I did not have the use of my 
hands and arms to brace me as I descended to the floor. 

"Such expressive eyes," he commented as he took my chin in his hand and 
tipped my head upward. "But perhaps I can turn those into jealous eyes." 

As I knelt by the table, my Master moved toward the small TV cart. He 
turned on the TV, turned on the DVD player, and picked up the remote 
before returning to me. Kneeling behind me, he pressed Play on the remote, 
then set the controller down beside us and enveloped me in his arms. 

It was an adult DVD. After displaying the title on the screen for about 
five seconds, the action began. No impractical set-up, no foreplay – just 
straight to the fucking, with the camera on the floor underneath a 
Japanese babe's face as she was being taken roughly from behind. Scene 
after scene after scene passed in rapid succession, with one female body 
after another being plundered for the view of the unblinking eye. As the 
DVD played, my Master played with my body – sometimes pinching me, 
sometimes fondling me, sometimes biting me, sometimes fingering me, 
sometimes slapping me, always adoring me – raising my arousal and 
maintaining it at such a high level that my grunts and whimpers and moans 
essentially echoed those of the young women being reamed on the screen. 

Without warning, my Master fiercely grabbed a fistful of my hair and 
yanked my head back, instantly causing my body to arch, a yelp of 
surprised pain escaping my lips. "Cum, bitch, and you'll regret it!!!" he 
growled into my ear, slapping my right breast one more time to punctuate 
his warning. 

And suddenly, I was bent forward, my face buried in the carpet, the wet 
crotch of my thong pulled aside. I shrieked from the forcefulness of his 
entry, from the sensation of being made so full so quickly. I cried out 
again and again as my Master rutted into me, pummeling my body hard and 
fast, clearly using me for his own pleasure, ultimately pouring his love 
inside me and filling my soul, then withdrawing and ordering me to kneel 
anew despite the painfulness of the position, making me watch for nearly 
another hour as one young woman after another was shown and heard 
succumbing to the delirium of primal pleasure, ensuring my sexual 
frustration as drops of white trickled onto the carpet beneath me. 

"Such expressive, jealous eyes," my Master commented, gazing into my soul 
once the DVD had ended. 

"Please, Master," I pleaded softly, knowing that was exactly what he 
wanted to hear. "Please..." 

"You can't cum yet," he stated matter-of-factly. "It's not even lunchtime 
yet, and you're already begging. I like that!" 

I could not help myself: I wailed sadly, wanting to cum not just for my 
own gratification, but also to show my desire, my love, for him, my big 
brother and my Master, so that he could once again see what no one else 
had ever witnessed. 

*****

By the time the rope marks on my arms had faded, it was time for lunch, 
and we agreed to go to a small, nearby Chinese restaurant. I was not 
surprised when my Master informed me that I was to wear a skirt with 
nothing underneath; the rest of the outfit I could pick for myself. 

The walk to the restaurant was not nearly as disturbing as the first time 
I had gone outside pantyless. Of course, this time, there was no wind, and 
it was also much warmer being mid-day in summer. There were few people out 
and about, since most of the students were gone, although one guy who 
passed us on the sidewalk did seem to be starting continually at my chest, 
making me wonder if my erect nipples were tenting my bra and tight ribbed 
tank top. 

I received plenty of second and third and fourth glances at the 
restaurant, as I was still wearing the "Baby"-emblazoned collar. Had these 
people never before seen a slave wear a collar in public!?!?! I had to 
smile to myself as I wondered how these same people would react if the 
rope marks were still visible upon my arms. 

On the way back to the apartment, we stopped by the house we would soon be 
able to call our home. Ms. Ovni had given us the keys already, even though 
we were not yet about to move in and actually live there, so we had easy 
access. 

Once inside, as soon as the front door was closed, I was backed against 
the wall of the short entry corridor, my hands pinned above my head as my 
Master kissed me slowly, pressing his lengthening erection to me. Things 
progressed to the point where he was truly molesting me, using his tongue 
to rape my mouth, causing my body to drip and my heart to beat so hard and 
fast that it was ready to leap from within my chest into his. And when he 
finally dropped a hand to lift my skirt and pressed his knee against my 
weeping womanhood, I went over the edge, riding him, smearing my desire 
all over the denim he wore, gasping and squealing and clutching him as he 
continued to possess me with his hands... 

Then he suddenly backed away from me and moved toward the stairs. "Crawl!" 
he barked over his shoulder at me, clearly expecting me to follow him. I 
was hot and bothered, and all I wanted was to be able to cum for him, but 
after a few seconds, my trembling body descended to the floor and began to 
crawl toward the staircase, my clothing somehow feeling quite 
constricting. 

There were two bedrooms upstairs, one a little larger than the other. 
"This one's mine," he said flatly as if it was already a well-established 
fact published in an encyclopedia. I did not argue – after all, it seemed 
fitting that a Master in this situation would take the larger bedroom 
while the slave was resigned to the smaller bedroom. 

...if she was to be granted a bedroom at all. She could have been ordered 
to live in a cage in the basement instead. 

Both bedrooms were larger than the ones we currently had at the apartment, 
but both smaller than our bedrooms back east at our parents' house. As I 
waited on hands and knees at my Master's feet, I tried to imagine how his 
bedroom might be arranged and decorated, tried to imagine how it would 
feel to wake up here for the first time with a different set of four walls 
surrounding us. 

"I just realized something," he noted aloud, dragging me away from my 
thoughts. "You're spending a lot of time on your knees today." 

"Yes, Sir," I responded simply, still feeling somewhat breathless from the 
molestation and knee-invoked pleasure I had endured downstairs. 

A few moments later, we went to what was to be my bedroom. Again, I tried 
to imagine what it would be like to wake up here with different walls 
around us. 

Yet, instead of a futon or a true bed, I could only picture myself 
awakening in a small cage, curled up into a tight ball, naked save for my 
waist chain, shivering slightly in the cool morning air, locked within the 
metal confines as punishment. 

"Stand and follow." 

My Master turned and left the smaller bedroom, heading for the staircase. 
Carefully, I rose to my feet, then followed as ordered, my knees 
protesting a little. As I had suspected, my Master led me down to the 
basement, into the second room, the room which would almost certainly soon 
become our dedicated BDSM playroom. 

"I want you topless, then hand me your bra." 

With his arms folded across his chest, my Master watched me closely as I 
slowly removed my t-shirt and tossed it on the floor at his feet. I then 
removed my bra and handed it to him, wondering just what he had in mind. 

"On your hands and knees." 

Once again, I was on the floor, the cement floor chilling my hands and my 
knees. At his gesture, I crossed the foot or so of space between us and 
unzipped his jeans and carefully withdrew the forbidden phallus. Already 
half-erect, his manhood swelled to fullness within my mouth. 

"Use a hand to play with yourself." 

I did, continuing to pleasure my Master as I pleasured myself. His taste 
was wonderful, his scent intoxicating, his feel in my mouth thrilling. As 
I worked, his hands cradled my head, his fingers toyed with my hair, his 
love tangibly surrounded me like a cocoon, my bra always held against my 
face. And when he was ready, he shoved me away, walked around behind me, 
dropped to his knees, lifted my skirt, and once again took his pleasure 
from my willing, dripping, sisterly body, taking me hard and fast as I 
cried out loudly and clawed at the cement. 



He suddenly withdrew from me, leaving me feeling empty, hungry for more. 
As I gasped loudly and dropped to a prone position on the cool hard floor, 
I heard the barely-restrained sounds which signaled my Master's climax, 
but, surprisingly, I never felt his incestuous seed befall me. 

"Stand," I finally heard, and I slowly rose to my feet, turning to face my 
Master as he held my bra toward me. "Here's a new way to wear your 
Master's love." 

Only then did I see that the left cup of my bra contained a small pool of 
my Master's love. Taking the bra in my hands, I smiled widely, amazed at 
his ingenuity. 

"Get dressed, baby sister," he said softly, kindly. "I'll meet you 
upstairs." 

Once he had left the soon-to-be-playroom, I lifted the bra to my lips, 
extended my tongue, and lapped several times at the warm pool of 
incestuous love. The white seed looked so obscene against the black of the 
bra. 

Despite my carefulness, some of the male essence ended up trickling down 
my ribcage as I dressed, and once I had also donned the tank top produced 
a noticeable trail of discolored fabric extending downward from my left 
breast. It was with a little embarrassment that I met my Master upstairs, 
blushing as his eyes fixated upon the discolored fabric. He cupped my left 
breast, squishing my breast in his warm seed, making me whimper softly and 
my legs want to quiver. 

"I've never felt so close to you, Master," I admitted softly. He drew me 
in for a long, heartfelt hug, the moment so touching that tears began to 
form in my eyes. 

My own desire dripping from my recently-used and uncovered sex, my 
Master's seed seemingly surrounding my left breast and tricking down my 
chest... I felt so naughty, so dirty, so crude, so wanton. 

...so scared, to be outside like that. 

Fortunately, being a Sunday in summer in a student neighborhood largely 
devoid of students, we did not pass anyone on the street as we returned to 
the apartment. There were a few people in the park, but they were all far 
enough away that they should not have been able to see the trail of 
discolored fabric descending from my left breast. 

"Go shower," I was instructed once we had returned to the apartment. "I 
think you deserve it." 

"Yes, Master. And, Master?" 

"Yes?" 

I kissed his cheek. "Thank you." 

*****

The rest of the afternoon was slow, relatively speaking. While my Master 
was fully clothed, I was completely clothesless, wearing only the waist 
chain and the "Baby" collar as we battled each other in various 
PlayStation2 games. An outsider would certainly have found the scene to be 
quite bizarre, but for me to be partially or even fully naked in the 
presence of my big brother and Master was just as instinctive to me as 
breathing. 

Ultimately, we had our fill of gaming, and my Master stretched out on his 
back on the floor. I turned off the console and the TV, then lay upon him, 
burying my face in his neck as his arms enveloped my bare body, and, 
amazingly, we both fell asleep, napping peacefully in the security and the 
serenity of each other's respectful love. 

*****

We made dinner together, and ate in the romantic light of a single candle, 
its flame practically drowned out by the natural light filtering past the 
closed curtains. So it was less "romantic" than what one would expect, but 
it was the thought and the present company which truly made it so 
romantic. 

After dinner, we tried to watch TV, but found nothing worthwhile. So we 
instead watched some anime: first the entire first DVD of Agent Aika, then 
Perfect Blue. 

There was only about ninety minutes left in my day of submission, but ever 
since the nap, I had not been treated like a slave, but an equal. Except 
for being slapped around a little earlier in the day, I had not been given 
any pain. Even as we were watching Agent Aika and Perfect Blue, I had kept 
telling myself that before midnight, my Master would hurt me. Part of me 
cringed at the thought of pain, but a much larger part of me yearned for 
it. 

"I think it's bedtime," my Master announced, standing and stretching. "You 
can take off that 'Baby' collar now." 

I was in a way disappointed. Apparently, I would not suffer any true pain. 


We slept in his bed that night, his body pressed snugly against my 
backside with a hand draped over me and cupping a breast. And as my mind 
began to slide into slumber, I realized why my Master had not truly hurt 
me: Either he wanted to view me more as his baby sister in the evening, 
despite the fact that he was clothed and I was naked, or he was further 
dominating me by withholding the pain I had been expecting (and craving). 
Both situations were equally plausible, and, in either scenario, I was 
really in no position to argue. 

So instead of receiving pain, my dream that night was about watching a DVD 
of other bound women in pain: a woman on a rack, a woman bristling with 
clothespins, a woman being whipped, a woman being rapidly spanked, a woman 
being covered with hot wax... 

*****

Late Monday morning, I sat at my desk, thinking about my day of submission 
to my big brother, my Master. Despite the "letdown" at the end, I thought 
of the day overall with great fondness, and I was suddenly inspired to 
write a letter which I later left for my big brother on his desk, right 
beside his laptop so that he would be certain to see it when he returned 
from work: 

My Dearest Master, 

Thank you for taking control of me yesterday. While I did not perform to 
my usual standard early Sunday morning when you ordered me to suck you, 
those few moments in the middle of the night were still special to me. 
Your use of my body throughout the day delighted me, and your ingenuity 
throughout the day thrilled me. If I could somehow turn back the clock so 
that you and I could re-enact yesterday again and again and again and 
again and again, I would in a heartbeat. 

While I am always at your beck and call for any pleasure or pain you 
choose to give me, these lengthy periods devoted to your dominance of me 
are incredibly meaningful and fill my heart to overflowing. Once we are in 
the house, with a basement room which we can devote specifically to the 
painful pleasures, I do hope that we can enjoy such dedicated days – in a 
dedicated room – much more often. 

Forever your loving, devoted, twin sister and willing, humbled, loving 
slave, 

Vicki 



zzzzzzzzzz