Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 From: an462542@anon.penet.fi (victoria)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories
Subject: My Sister, My Slave (f/f, incest, D/s) **textfile** -
siskaren.txt [01/01]
Date: Sat, 02 Mar 96 05:55:49 GMT
Message-ID: <4h8nt5$1ac_001@hanker.teleport.com>

   BEGIN -- Cut Here -- cut here MY SISTER, MY SLAVE
I: BRAND-SPANKING-NEW



   Ok, get this and get it straight.  I'm bi.  In fact, I'm even more lez
than I am bi.  It makes it easier in this business.  There's a good supply
of men for my services, and an even better supply of women.  A lot of my
clients are high power people, people who spend a lot of their day
controlling other people.  Then they come to me, and I do the controlling.
And while I enjoy dominating a man, I treasure dominating a woman.  So I
don't charge them as much.  It's still hard work.  Dreaming up scenarios,
and making sure you know how much your client can endure takes energy and
imagination.  It's damned hard work.

   Still, I get off on it.  No, I didn't torture cats as a child.  I simply
found out that I enjoyed spanking people, and there were people around who
liked to be spanked.  It just grew from there, and for that I have my
sister Karen to thank.  I guess it started when I was put in charge of my
little brother and sister.  Mom and Dad both started working evenings when
I was fifteen, and I was put in charge until 10 p.m.  So if I caught Karen
or Joey being naughty, I spanked them.

   A spanking was very simple then.  Karen was twelve and Joey was only
eight, and they tended to fight like the dickens.  If they were just being
mischevous, I tended to let things slide just as Mom would.  But if they
broke something, or one of them hit the other, the offending party got
spanked.  I simply led them into my bedroom, explained what I was going to
do and why, had them remove outer garments, and spanked them on their
bottoms thru their underwear.  Then I sent them off with a loving
admonishment. I never had to spank either one of them more than once or
twice a month.

   Until I was seventeen and a senior in high school.  One night, while I
was studying, I heard Joey scream, and there was Karen, looking smug, while
Joey grimaced and said she had hit him.  When I asked, she confirmed it.  I
marched her into my bedroom, delivered the ten smacks I considered
appropriatte.  She didn't seem at all concerned during my "lecture," which
made me a bit angry.  So I think I spanked her a little bit harder than
usual.  She marched merrily away when I was finished, pulling her jeans up
a s she walked.

   And then the next night, she did the same thing.  Out of nowhere, she
slapped Joey.  And I spanked her again.  Two nights later, the same act.  I
spanked her, but I spoke to Mom about it, too.  Apparantly, Mom's lecture
hit home, somewhat, because Karen never struck Joey again, not for thier
whole lives.  But Karen still made trouble, in different ways.  One night
it was refusing to get ready for bed.  Another night it was refusing to do
her chores.  For a week, I let it slide, because I really didn't want to s
pank her too much.  Or maybe, as I can see from this end of things, maybe I
was afraid that I was enjoying it too much.

   Well, one night Karen walked up to the table, and without saying a word,
spilled cola on my homework.  No accident, this was absolutely
predetermined, and designed to piss me off.  Well, one week of her pranks,
refusals, and just plain nastiness had me pretty angry with her, so I
ordered her into my room.  I dispensed with the lecture, announced that
tonight I I was going to spank her until her bare bottom was red.  "Bare?"
she asked.

   "Yes, bare!" And without furthur adieu, I put her over my knee, pulled
down the panties of her baby doll nightie, and began to deliver twenty of
the best.  Karen squirmed, Karen squiggled, Karen fought, and Karen yelped.
I delivered ten on her right buttock, and ten on her left buttock, wide
handed smacks which left red impressions of my long, thin fingers on her
soft, white skin.  When it was over, Karen leapt from my lap, and I
realized that her breathing was ragged.  She ran from the room, and I heard
her door slam.  I might have felt sorry for her then, except that I was too
flabberghasted at my own reaction.  My pussy was dripping wet, my breathing
was ragged, and my clit was on fire.  It wasn't the eroticism itself that
unnerved me.  I was no stranger to sex.  No, it scared me to think that I
was enjoying it this much.  Scared me a lot.  And with my sister ...

   A week went by.  I tried to be especially nice to Karen, and lenient to
both brother and sister.  But Joey, pissed off at Karen over another of her
shenanigans, had hit her.  I walked in on the fight just as Karen was
readying a swing at Joey, and called it to a halt.  After determining that
they were both at fault, I took Joey into my room, gave him the lecture,
and spanked him thru his pajama bottoms.  As he went, I realized that even
though I had taken it easy in administering the blows, I had had a very
definite reaction.

   I called Karen in.  I gave her a lecture about teasing Joey, and called
her over my knee.  "Not bare this time?" she asked, and she looked
disappointed.  "No, not bare, " I said, and then I realized what was going
on.

   "You enjoy this?" I exclaimed.  It was as much an exclamation as a
question.

   "So do you," Karen countered.

   "NO I DON'T," I cried, and I grabbed her, took her over my knee, and
began spanking her panty-covered butt.  But inside, I knew she was right. I
did enjoy it.  There was a definite charge to being in control, to having
Karen or Joey subservient to me.  And it was erotic, too, in a way that I
was somewhat afraid of, especially since it was my sister who seemed to
provoke the stronger reaction.  After I had delivered ten very
cry-provoking strokes, I caught my breath and stopped.  I was breathing
very hard.  S o was Karen.  She was moaning.  Even though I had stopped,
she was wriggling her bottom as if begging for more, as if I was still
delivering blow after blow.

   So I did.  I pulled her panties not just down but practically off, down
to just above the knees so she couldn't kick her legs, and I proceeded to
give her ten on the right butt, then ten on the left butt, then another ten
right, another ten left, until I felt myself shudder in a small but potent
orgasm.  I grabbed Karen tight lest she fall, and she did this amazing
thing which at once shocked and pleased me.  She turned and grabbed me
around the waist, and reached up to hug me tightly.  She forced her legs
around my knee and in a few seconds, she too was having an orgasm.  Then we
lay together on the bed, breathing heavily, sighing, embracing.

   Then, after I somehow dragged myself up and started Joey on the road to
bed, Karen and I talked.  Karen, it turns out, had been "enjoying" the
spankings for a long time, almost a year.  She would leave my bedroom for
her own, pull off her panties and rub her bruised skin and moist pussy
until she came.  "I wanted you to spank me.  I wanted it so bad ...  so I
acted as bad as I knew how." As she said this, she put her arms around me,
nuzzled my neck.  It was at once comforting and unnerving.

   She was a sweet kid, if mischievous.  And precocious.  She was obviously
more comfortable with her sexuality than I would have been at her age. 
Good enough in school, popular with a great many of her schoolmates, she
was quite a bit unlike me.  I had been more of a loner, an intense studier.
Teachers respected me for my work; they respected Karen for her
personality.

   And Karen was also one thing I was not ...  Karen was very, very pretty.
Oh, she was still a kid, really.  She was fourteen and a half, and going
thru all those female body changes.  Her hips were still slender, but her
tits were round with high, proud, rosy nipples.  Her hair was long,
straight, and black, and it sort of naturally stood off her face.  Parts of
Karen still looked twelve, other parts of Karen looked sixteen.  But all
parts of Karen looked good.

   I had had no inkling that I might enjoy a lesbian encounter, and would
never have thought of anything involving my own kid sister.  And yet ...  I
couldn't deny that I'd enjoyed spanking her.  Or deny that I'd enjoyed her
reaction.  Or deny that I was enjoying having her arms around my waist, her
head resting on my breasts.

   But I said none of this to her, I simply kissed her, and sent her off to
bed.  Yet over the next few weeks, I had fantasies regarding Karen,
fantasies involiving spanking, caressing, and a whole lot more.  In waking
hours I wondered just what Karen would be willing to take, and how it might
be arranged.  Images of Karen bound to the bed, helpless, blind- folded,
never knowing where or how I'd touch her ...  images of her excitement and
anxiety, not to mention my own.  And other thoughts came to me ...  of Ka
ren, on my orders, licking my tits, my ass, my pussy.  And images of what
pleasures I could bestow on Karen, and the humiliating poses or situations
into which she might be put.

   While these thoughts took shape within me, I let Karen get away with her
rebellion ...  for awhile.  For even as I wrestled with these thoughts, I
was also using them to plan what was to be the seminal experience in my
sexual career...

   Almost a month passed.  I had no reason to spank either Joey or Karen in
that time.  I had not had a date, nor much contact with my friends, either.
Whatever Karen had awakened in me, it was consuming me.  When my plans had
gelled, I began watching for infractions.  Karen didn't disappoint me.  I
think she was itching for it, too, for her behavior towards me, (not
towards Joey,) steadily grew more rebellious as the month went by.

   I was fixing dinner for Joey, Karen and me, and Karen was due home from
the library at 5:00 p.m.  Six o'clock approached, and Karen was still not
home.  I sat Joey down, and while he ate, I went to my room and got an
envelope with a letter I had prepared for Karen.  I left it out on my bed,
and returned to supper.  At 6:30, Karen breezed in, acting as if nothing
was amiss.  I instantly set upon her, let her know I was angry with her,
and that she would be punished.  She shot me an angry glare, but I could te
ll that this was just what she, too, had been waiting for.  I told her to
go up to my room, read the letter on the bed, and wait for me.  I promised
to bring her some dinner.

   Karen left, feigning rebellion.  Joey said "She's really gonna get a
talking-to, isn't she?" I nodded.  When we had finished, I cleared away the
food, and while Joey washed the dishes, I prepared a sandwhich for Karen. I
asked Joey if he'd done his homework, and he nodded, so I let him go down
to the basement to play and watch TV.  He liked to turn the TV down there
to a high volume; I was, tonight, inclined to let him.

   I waited about fifteen minutes before ascending the stairs, carrying the
sandwich.  I wondered if Karen would be in my room or not.  For here is the
text of the letter I had written:



   "Karen.

   You have once again disobeyed our house

   rules.  I therefore order you to put yourself at my

   command for your punishment.  You will submit to

   whatever I command.  I will not tell you much about

   what I plan for you, but it will involve spanking, and

   you will be restrained.  If you do not accept this, I

   will inform Mom and Dad that I can no longer control

   you and that the task of disciplining you will now be

   in their hands.  If that is so, I will not expect to

   find you in my room when I get there."

   "However, if you are in my room, I will assume you have

   accepted my terms.  In that case, I wish you to prepare

   my room and yourself for your punishment.  In the

   bottom drawer of my chest you will find a black shoe

   box, and several towels.  Place one of these towels on

   the bed, and lay out all the items you find in the

   black box.  One item will be a black velvet choker.  I

   want you to put that around your neck."

   "Next, I want you to place the big ottoman in front of

   the mirror.  If you are dressed, you are to remove all

   your clothes except your bra and panties.  Fold them

   neatly and lay them on top of my dresser.  If you are

   in nightclothes, then I wish you to remove your

   nightgown.  If this leaves you naked, then you may wrap

   yourself in a towel.  Then you are to sit on my bed and

   await me."



   I knew what I hoped she'd do, for I was beginning to enjoy the slightly
evil feelings which were welling up in me.  And when I opened the door, I
smiled inwardly, for there was Karen, in her bikini panties and lacy bra,
sitting anxiously with her hands knotted between her bare knees.  Around
her neck she wore the black choker.  On the bed was the towel, several
leather thongs, and a pingpong paddle.

   I put the sandwich on the dresser.  Karen's eyes went to it.  "You may
have that later.  First you must accept your punishment.  Are you prepared
to do everything that I command?" Meekly, Karen nodded.  I exclaimed, "That
won't do!  I must hear you agree," And I held her arm, tightly but without
malice.  "Do you accept my terms?"

   "Yes," Karen said, in a hushed, rather fearful voice.  Was she having
second thoughts?  She probably hadn't counted on my demanding that she
undress, and it was easy to infer from the letter that I wanted her naked
for her ordeal.  That implication, I guess, had been enough to turn
rebellion into anxiety.

   "Good." And I went into my large walk-in closet to prepare myself.  I
stripped everything I was wearing, tossed into a corner of the closet.  I
took care to see that Karen could not see me as I put on the black panties,
the black bra, the black peignor, and the black leather gloves.  Then I
stepped into my black high heeled shoes (only three inches ...  back then I
knew nothing of what was expected of me!) and strode out into the room. 
"STAND!" I ordered.

   Karen stood, and there was fear in her eyes.

   "Strip!" I commanded.  Karen hesitated, and I grabbed her arm.  "Delay
only brooks more punishment, Karen ...  " She shook free, took a few steps
back, and proceeded to remove her bra.

   Heaven help me, but when she took her bra off and let her tits swing
free, I almost had an orgasm then and there.  That she had obeyed me, that
she was agreeing to expose herself to me, these were new and exciting ideas
to me, and I welcomed the feelings I experienced at my very first very
sight (since Karen's puberty,) of her high, proud breasts, with the
uptilted nipples pointing to the ceiling.  To think that sometime in the
evening I would feel those small, round globes, feel them at my desire if
not hers ...

   And then she had removed her panties, and stood naked, the only flesh
hidden from my eyes the small band covered by the choker.  I knew in that
moment that women would now be a part of my sexual life, for the rush I
felt far eclippsed anything I'd ever felt while looking at a man.  Yet,
too, I knew it was not just that Karen was my gender, but that she was my
sister, and this made it all doubly forbidden, and therefore doubly
enticing and exciting.

   As I picked up bra and panties from the floor, I saw that Karen's eyes
were downcast, her hands folded lightly over the small triangle of pubic
hair.  I leered at her, and commanded her to look me in the eye.  "Look
forward, and do not move.  You are my slave now." Karen obeyed.  I could
scarcely beleive the power I had over her.  "Hands at your sides.  And part
your feet." She did so, and I caught a bit of trembling as I circled her,
admiring her slim hips, her small, round butt, her high breasts, her slim
waist, her lovely nose and eyes.  She didn't move an inch, despite her
nervousness.

   Then I reached out to touch her.  I did not do this suddenly, rather I
slowly extended my fingers toward her nipple, and even as I watched, I
could see it harden in anticipation.  I suppose she had expected I would
cause her pain, that I would tweak it between my fingers ...  and I would,
soon enough.  But for now I simply reveled in the anxiety I caused her, and
I simply put a single gloved finger to the nipple and let it rest there for
a moment.  Then, slowly, I put two fingers on either side of the nippl e,
resting them against her rockhard aiereole.  I could feel her brace for the
pain ...  but I did not squeeze, simply began rolling the nipple in my
fingers until I heard her begin to breath with sexual tension.

   Then I pinched and pulled in a quick motion.  Not enough to really cause
pain, but enough to shock Karen out of her reverie.  Karen stiffened at
that, and a tear formed in her eye.  No, she had not counted on such
devastating cruelty.  And neither had I.  I was aghast at how naturally all
this was coming to me.  So I moved on to the actual punishment, the
delivering of blows.

   "Lay down on the ottoman, and put your hands behind your back," I
ordered, and she did so, but slowly, tentatively.  I fought the urge to
grab her and force her down.  The ottoman was high enough that her knees
comfortably touched the ground, and broad enough so that her whole torso
lay on top, her head hanging just a bit over the edge.  Her hands lay
limply upon her back, and I bound them together with one of the leather
thongs.  I then ordered her to spread her legs, which, surprisingly, she
did without question.  Thereupon, I bound her knees to the legs of the
ottoman with two more leather thongs.

   Then I stood back to drink in the scene.  Binding her knees had spread
the cheeks of her ass just enough that her buttocks were flattenned just a
bit, which made them more vulnerable.  It also gave me a glimpse of her
cunt, which I appreciatted, a bit to my surprise.  There was also just a
hint of her breast flattened against the ottoman, jutting out from beneath
her torso.  It all made her look so helpless, so vulnerable.  And for a
moment, I had a twinge of guilt, of doubt.  Yes, Karen had, in her way, sug
gested this, yet I had probably carried it out beyond her capacity to
imagine it.  I worried that I was hurting her.

   Then she started straining against her bonds, trying to raise herself
from the ottoman.  That brought me right back, and I moved to sit on the
bed beside the ottoman.  I said, quietly but forcefully, "Stay down and
still.  And not a sound!" Again, surprising me, Karen obeyed.  I put my
hands on her buttocks, felt the smooth skin, caressed it, kneaded it ... 
and then I said the word "One," and delivered a stinging slap to Karen's
right rump.  Karen shook with each of the twenty blows I delivered, ten on
each buttock, but her breathing was deep and heavy when I again kneaded the
now pink skin of her butt.  I picked up the paddle, and again announced
"ONE!" I delivered ten blows with the paddle, five to each buttock, and I
could see the pain in Karen's face as each stroke fell.  But I could also
smell the distinct odor of musk rising from her pussy.

   I proceeded to caress Karen's butt, powdering it and rubbing in some
mineral oil.  Every few seconds, however, I gave her a quick slap, at
random intervals, so that she never knew when a blow was coming.  This, I
could tell, was really exciting Karen, for she was squirming not in pain
but in ecstacy.  After about ten minutes of this, I decided to switch
tactics.  I let a bit of mineral oil drip down into the crack of Karen's
ass, and began massaging her anus and her vagina.  But I would not let her
acheive orgasm yet.  She was crying out my name in erotic agonay when I
stopped.

   I was beginning to get quite hot myself, and I was deter- mined to have
my release before allowing Karen hers.  I untied Karen's from the ottoman,
but bound her knees together, then led her, still on her knees, to the edge
of the bed.  I sat down on the bed with my legs spread around her, and
ordered her to bring me to orgasm by whatever means she might devise.

   This was really a night of surprises for us both.  For Karen didn't
hesitate, which I found astonishing.  Eagerly, hungrily, Karen reached for
my cunt with her mouth, kissing it, licking my thighs, forcing her nose
against my clit, chewing at my panties with her teeth.  She managed to pull
my panties to one side with her teeth, and then she proceeded to dart her
tongue into my cunt.  I was on fire, not just between my legs, but all
through my body.  I tried to prolong it, savor the feel of my sister's face
against my most private parts, and I did the best I could.  But the whole
scene was so intoxicating that in just a few minutes, I forced my hands
hard against Karen's head, as if it was possible to bring her closer to me
than she already was.

   And then I exploded.  Noisily, too.  I thanked heaven for the orgasm,
thanked heaven too for the noisy TV I could still hear from the basement.
When the spasms subsided, I held Karen's head close to my crotch, stroking
her hair gently for many minutes.  I could feel Karen shivering, and
realized that it had been a turn-on for her, as well.  I found I wanted to
pleasure her now, but I also wanted to retain my power over her.  I
continued stroking and caressing Karen's hair while I reviewed my options.

   Meanwhile, Karen was wriggling her way up onto the bed, despite her
bound wrists and legs.  I used the opportunity to assert my supremacy.  I
stood up, grabbed Karen by the arm, and dragged her back to the ottoman.  I
untied her knees, ordered her to spread her legs, only this time, she was
on her knees and looking straight into the mirror.  I placed the ottoman
over her lower legs and bound her ankles and knees to the ottoman's legs.
Finally, to complete her helplessness, I slipped a final thong thru her
bound wrists, and tied them firmly to her waist.

   I took a moment to simply look at her tied there, helpless, and felt
heady with power.  I stood to her side, but easily within her view, and
began to undo the bra I wore.  I approached her, my tits jiggling, and
placed my bra lightly over her shoulder.  I don't know what made me do what
I did next, but it was inspired, I think.  I removed my panties, still wet
and heavy with my odor, and I arranged them on Karen's head so that her
eyes were visible thru one opening, with the moist spot directly over her
no se.  I pulled the panties tight against her face and secured them with a
safety pin.  She was shaking, fearful, I think that I was about to punish
her again.

   And in a strange, erotic way, I was about to punish her.  Not only was
she placed in what had to be a humiliating, helpless pose, she was forced
to confront her own image in the mirror.  And with the smell of me in her
nostrils, too.  I walked right up to her, my pussy only inches below her
face.  I reached down with both hands and caressed her breasts until her
nipples were hard.  Then I walked behind her, and ran my hands over her
skin, especially over her still reddened buttocks.  With my left hand, I
rea ched around and took hold of her nipple, squeezed and rolled it in my
hand until Karen's face was full of pleasure.  With my right hand, I
squeezed and carressed her rump.  Then, in unison, I tweaked at her nipple
and slapped her rump.  If she had not been so well bound, Karen would have
jumped ten feet at the shock.  Then I returned to caresses again,
occasionally pinching her nipple, occasionally slapping her rump softly.

   When I could see her start to squirm, I moved to straddle the ottoman
and sit behind Karen, and I reached around with both arms to cover her
breasts.  This was all even more intoxicating for me, for I was very aware
of her against me, her back against my breasts, her hands bound behind her
and against my belly, and the sight of her reflected in the mirror.  Both
of us could see my hands against her body, both of us could see the
reaction the scene was having on her, both of us could see the wild animal
p assion in Karen's eyes.

   I pulled really close, let one hand drop between Karen's legs and began
to caress cunt and breast all at the same time.  In her ear I whispered
"Not a sound ..." and Karen managed, although how she managed, I do not
know.  For now I was doing her in earnest, ravaging her neck with my teeth,
biting softly in areas where her hair would cover any marks.  And I was now
kneading her breasts with my left hand, and the fingers of my right hand
were busily exploring the precious cleft between her legs.

   As I said, Karen continued to surprise me.  For even as I drove her
closer to the brink, even as I felt her begin to quake and shiver against
me, Karen reached with her bound hands to make contact with my own dripping
cunt.  This drove me wild, and I began rubbing my hand against her clit
with a force I hadn't meant to apply.  But Karen was a trooper, all right,
she took it all as pleasure, not pain, even when it clearly hurt.  I moved
both hands down to her cunt, spreading her lips with my left and delvin g
along the wet cleft with my right.  It took every ounce of concentration I
had to continue servicing Karen, but when I felt her finger enter my cunt,
go deep to rub against the pulsating tiny toungues which lined my vagina, I
could no longer contain myself.  I had not meant to do this, but I, too,
slipped a finger into Karen's cunt, and added to the preassure on both our
clits, our fingerings pushed us both over the edge.  And to be able to
watch it all in the mirror ...

   I think I blacked out for five or six seconds after I came, it was so
intense.  When I came too, I spasmed for close to five minutes.  Karen, who
I now held lightly against me, was shaking wildly, and I realized that my
finger was still deep inside her, my palm still hard against her clit.  But
Karen wasn't complaining.  Even bound as uncomfortably as whe was, she was
reveling in it, and when she came, it was with such force that she almost
knocked me off the ottoman.

   When the spasming was over, and both of us were still, Karen delivered
the final surprise of the night.  For as soon as I had loosed my panties
from her head, she turned her head over her shoulder, reached around and
our lips made contact.  Her toungue darted out to part my lips.  And to my
own surprise, I let them be opened, and we kissed fondly and deeply.  I
untied her completely, and she removed my bra and panties, and we lay down
naked together on the bed.  That there was still passion to be aroused wa s
pleasantly amazing, and we wrapped our legs around each others' thighs and
rocketed each other to one more earth- shattering orgasm.

   When our senses cleared, I kissed her and held her, and we giggled a
bit, feeling closer than we had in years.  Presently, Karen said, "You know
what?  I could eat four of those sandwiches!" I laughed too.  I put on my
bedclothes, noted the time, and went off to put Joey to bed.  I found him
practically asleep in front of the basement TV.  I turned the TV off, which
woke him, and he ambled off to bed at my command.  I returned, a pair of
sandwiches in hand, and found my room arranged in its usual order.  Kare n
was still lounging naked on the bed, though she had a towel draped over her
hips.  I joined her, but I did not undress.  We ate our sandwiches, laughed
and talked, cuddled and caressed until we heard our parents coming up the
driveway.  With a final kiss, Karen grabbed her clothing and ran for her
room.  But not without saying "I can't wait for next time ...  "

   I went down to greet Mom and Dad, with those words echoing in my ears.
II: KAREN AND HER FRIENDS



   Thus began my lifelong affair with bondage and discipline, and, as well,
my longterm affair with my sister.  For as it turned out, we found we were
in love with each other.  Not just because of our complementary tastes in
sexual roles, either.  Karen liked the music I liked, she liked a lot of
the things I liked to do (like art museums and volleyball.) I helped her
with her homework, she helped me study for my exams.  If it hadn't been for
her friends and the boys who were courting her, we would have been
inseperable.  Still, we both found time for our friends, even for dating,
(Karen more than me, as usual,) and, as you will see, later, we even
incorporated some of those experiences into our games.

   As to those "games", though Karen's role was that of a willing
submissive, she was also an enthusiastically active participant in other
ways.  I think she knew just how hard it was to set up a scene and play it
thru, for I frequently found random notes and pictures torn from magazines
stuck in my diary or schoolbooks.  They could be there for no other reason
than to suggest that I try them on her.

   After that first bondage session, Karen never again made her old brand
of trouble around the house.  And I found that I no longer had to be stern
with her.  It must have seemed strange to our parents, who had come to
expect our bickering as a tenet of existence, to see us laughing and
giggling, sitting together watching TV, tossing popcorn at each other.  I
now had an outlet for my sterness which did not have to be punishment, and
Karen no longer had to provoke me to end up being spanked.

   For the next three months or so, our sessions were pretty much like the
our first.  When we wished to instigate a session, Karen would "do
something bad." I would announce that she needed a talking-to, and would
order Joey, if he were around, down into the basement to watch TV.  Then
Karen would be marched up to my room where I would have her strip for me,
put on the black choker, and assume some sort of position which made her
buttocks humiliatingly accessible.  I would then stroke her with hand and
padd le until she was begging me to let her eat my pussy, or make her come.
Karen's seemingly insatiable libido was a constant source of surprise to
me. I had never been as wild as she, and if any of my friends were, well, I
didn't know about it.

   Also quite surprising was how her libido affected me.  In the course of
spanking her, I was getting as hot as a bitch in heat.  As much as I
enjoyed sex with boyfriends, (and I did enjoy it, quite orgiastically, make
no mistake,) nothing had prepared me for how hot I could become for my kid
sister.  Sometimes, when I would step back and look at her naked and bound,
I felt mixed emotions about how defenseless and vulnerable she looked. 
Mixed because my love for her touched my heart while at the same time m y
lust for her fed my evil instincts to cause her pain.

   In those three months, I became rather inventive in devising ways to
bind Karen up.  One time, she was bound on the bed, but facing the mirror
not the headboard, with her head propped up so that she could see herself
spreadeagled and tied down.  I would also prop her buttocks up with two
pillows, so that she could see the slaps fall.  That time was interesting,
too, for I made her come without touching her at all, simply by arranging
the pillows so that they pressed tightly on her clit.  Then, after pointi
ng out just how helpless she was, I ordered her to come by her own devices.
I will never forget the sight of her writhing against the leather thongs,
forcing her cunt against the pillows as hard as she was able, her shapely
round rear bouncing up and down against the pillows, her head writhing back
and forth, her tits quivering beneath her.

   Another time, I had her tied with her ankles and wrists bound together,
her wrists bound to the headboard, her ankles to the end of the bed.  She
was utterly at my mercy, and I would roll her over on her stomach, give her
twenty swats with my palm, then turn her over to let her lay on her abraded
rear.  Meanwhile, I would play with her tits, her cunt, occasionally
delivering a swat to her flanks or thighs.  Then it would be onto her
stomach again, and another twenty swats, to be followed by a relaxing bac
krub which ended in another ten swats to her rump.  I know it must be hard
to beleive that Karen enjoyed this, and it took me a several months to
become accustomed to it.  But enjoy it she did.  That was a wonderful
evening in other ways, for Joey was away with a friend, and we had the
house all to ourselves for the entire evening.  I made her tongue me to
orgasm three times ("I distinctly said noo teeth, Karen, and I mean it!")
that night, straddling her chest; twice facing her, once facing her cunt,
so th at my anus was in her face.  Though her ankles were bound, her knees
were not, and she managed to open her legs wide enough for me to taste her
pussy-juice.

   In the afterglow which followed our lovemaking (whether it involved the
full bondage treatment or not,) we would exchange stories of all the things
we had never shared.  I would tell Karen of my experiences with boys, and
Karen, who had only been dating boys for a year (after all, she was
fifteen, for heaven's sake,) would tell me of the slumber parties and other
situations in which she had garnered some degree of lesbian schooling.

   I keep using the word amazed, but that is exactly what I felt as Karen
talked of strip poker slumber parties, losers being made to masturbate in
full view of the others, ("Do you have any idea how hard that can be?  It
took Jane almost ten minutes one time ...") and at one such debauchery, the
loser had to manually masturbate the winner ("Heck, I wanted to do it to
all of them!) At one point, Karen even said, "Gee, you seem surprised,
sis!" Surprised?  I was astonished.  I had never had such experiences w ith
my friends.  We had done each other's hair, played around with clothes,
talked about boyfriends, what I thought of as the usual "teen girl stuff."
We had seen one another naked, but never attached any significance to it. I
wondered who among Karen's friends had instigated such goings-on.

   So I asked her.  "Who started all this?" It did seem that Karen's
experiences were limited to three particular friends, Mary, Leslie, and
Jane.  I would've put my money on Jane who, it seemed to me, was a type who
would try anything, anytime.  But Jane also seemed the least likely to come
up with an original thought, but then you never know.  Mary and Leslie
would probably go along with what others in the group suggested, but they
would have to be coaxed.  Then I asked myself, who had engineered all the
eve nts which had led to our special relationship?  Why Karen, of course,
who now sat blushing in response to my question.

   It didn't take much to get Karen to tell me all about the slumber
parties.  While she said she didn't want to talk about them, I could see in
her eyes that it was just a fient.  All I had to do was threaten never to
spank her again.  to Karen, that was the more dreadful possibility.

   The seminal night for Karen's group took place when she and her friends
were thirteen and they were having a slumber party at Jane's house.  They
were still in their day clothes, watching movies on the VCR.  When the
first one finished, the girls looked thru the pile of tapes Jane had
brought down from the living room.  These were movies taped from cable so
they had to rely on her parents' scratchy handwriting.  They picked one
which said "COMEDY" on it, and popped it in.

   Well, it may have been funny, Karen reported, but it wasn't meant to be
just a comedy.  There weren't any credits and the quality wasn't very good,
it was probably dubbed from a another copy.  But you didn't need crisp
images to figure out what was going on.  There were two women and two men,
sitting on the floor, playing cards.  And every time someone lost, the
loser took off a piece of clothing.  The participants weren't wearing much,
so it wasn't long before most of the quartet were naked or nearly so.

   "Shut it off," Mary said, but Karen, (I should have known,) said no, and
Leslie and Jane seconded that motion.  Mary remained uncomfortable as they
watched the tape play out a rather standard porno scenario.  The girls were
naked first, of course, Karen reporting that they were attractive, but not
of movie star caliber.  The guys coaxed the two girls into making out with
each other, which made Mary cringe.  Leslie and Jane giggled, but Karen
said she was getting hot, and not just under the collar.  The girl s in the
movie did a 69, and then the guys returned and got sucked off, and the
finale had the guys balling the girls doggie style while the girls traded
kisses.  By this time, Leslie and Jane were no longer giggling; they were
strangely silent.  Mary was still acting as if she wasn't interested, but
Karen was sure she saw Mary's hand disappearing beneath her skirt.

   "Well," Karen said, "There may have been more on the tape, but I think
Mary would have died if we had watched the rest of it then.  So Jane turned
it off.  Everyone was real quiet, until I asked Jane if she had a deck of
cards around."

   "I suggested that we get ready for bed by playing strip poker.  Jane
liked the idea, Leslie went along with it, too.  So we all turned our eyes
on Mary."

   "Mary said she'd play on one condition, and that was that there'd be no
touching each other.  Leslie said 'Sure, what did you think we meant?"
which may have been true for Jane and her, but it wasn't entirely true for
me."

   "So we sat on the floor.  As it turned out, noone really knew how to
play poker, so we decided to play a four-handed game of war, with the
lowest card shown being the loser.  For our purposes, this was great,
because it wouldn't take so long.  At Mary's urging, Jane locked the
basement door.  It didn't turn out to be necessary, but it wasn't a bad
idea at that."

   "We dealed the first hand, and Leslie lost.  She wanted to take off just
one shoe, but we all decided that in the interest of time, shoes and socks
counted in pairs only.  Before we went on, we decided we'd better have some
rules.  It took us just a few minutes to decide the shoes and socks rule,
and that jewelry and watches and berets and hairclips didn't count."

   "'So what happens when you're already naked?  What then?' Jane asked. 
We decided that you had to remain naked until everyone else was, and that
once that happened, if you won, you got to put on your nightie.  'And the
last one to be naked?' Leslie said, 'there oughta be something she should
do for losing.'"

   Mary didn't agree that this was true, Karen reported, but Karen and Jane
and Leslie sort of ganged up and persuaded her.  They settled on each girl
writing down something the loser should do, and they put the pieces in a
basket.  When the cards had been played out, the loser would choose from
the basket.

   So they began to play, and soon there were socks and shoes and skirts
and t-shirts all over the place.  Mary, who had been reluctant to play,
found that the cards ran her way all thru the game.  By the time Leslie and
Jane and Karen were down to panties and bras and little else, Mary had only
lost her T-shirt.

   "Even though we had seen each other naked only a few months ago," Karen
said, "There was something about the game and the film which made it sort
of dangerous and exciting.  So when Leslie took off her bra, I felt myself
start to get wet ...  And I was next, and I was sure the others must have
seen that my panties were wet.  After Mary lost her jeans, Leslie lost her
panties, and she blushed as they came off.  Since we had said that only the
lowest card had to remove clothing, it took a while for the rest of us to
get naked.  Leslie lost twice before Jane and I each lost a hand, and there
we were, the three of us naked with Mary still having to lose two hands to
join us.  It took almost five minutes before Mary lost her bra, and with
the three of us already naked, she seemed less embarassed than I had
expected.  Fortunately, (because I was getting cold sitting around bare
assed,) Mary lost right away, and now we were all naked."

   "We got out our nighties, and began to play to get dressed.  I won the
first hand, and the second.  Then Mary won, and that left Jane and Leslie
sitting there naked.  Well, the cards ran my way and Mary's way, and you
could see the tension running high in Jane and Leslie.  Leslie was sort of
gnawing at her nails, and Jane just looked sort of spacey as hand after
hand Mary and I drew high cards."

   "Finally, Leslie drew a king, and none of us could match it, so Leslie
got to put her nightgown on, which she did very rapidly.  Which left poor
Jane sitting there buck naked, and very nervous.  But Jane'll try anything,
and she was willing to go the distance.  We gave her the basket and let her
choose."

   "Jane pulled out a piece of paper and opened it.  She seemed a bit
putoff by the choice, which stipulated that she must remain naked all
night, and had to serve each of the other girls soda and snacks when asked.
'Do I have to?' she asked, and we said, yes, she had to.  And we said she
could hide under covers and make like she was changing if her parents had
to look in."

   "Then Leslie was curious about what else was on the tape, so she turned
it back on.  I guess it was a feature film, because there were scenes where
fully dressed people were simply talking.  It had something to do with
gambling, since there were scenes in casinos, and there were even some cops
and robber chases.  But none of those scenes lasted very long, and
inbetween there were a lot of five and ten minute sequences where someone
was doing something sexy.  Like there was one where a blond lady was mastur
bating, and sticking things into her cunt.  And one where two guys were
getting it on with one girl, like taking it from behind while she sucked
the other guy's cock."

   "Mary seemed much less upset now than before, seemed just as interested
as Jane and Leslie and I.  I think the sex stuff made Jane even more
concious of being naked, cause her nipples got hard.  She was cute, too,
and I found myself staring at her tits a lot.  Especially when the film
showed two more women getting it on, with a lot of kissing and a lot of
breast kissing and a lot of cunt kissing.  Geez, I was getting hot watching
that."

   "During the other scenes, we talked about things we had seen, what we
knew from our older brothers and other friends.  Leslie had been to a camp
last summer, and she told us about panty raids and making out.  We cajoled
her into telling us about her own make-out experiences, which included a
lot of petting with a boyfreind.  'Did you let him touch you there?' Jane
asked, pointing to her own chest, and Leslie blushed, so we knew she had.
When pressed, all Leslie could say was that it had felt good."

   "Leslie told us a couple of stories about camp, one about a trip to a
nearby lake, where the girls' dressing rooms had a peephole into the boys'
showers.  And how one night she and some campmates had spied on two
counselors making out in the woods.  Jane asked if Leslie had ever seen two
girls doing what we'd seen in the video.  She said she hadn't."

   "Well, we talked until it was getting really late.  Jane's parents said
goodnight, but didn't come down at all.  It was an hour before we were
asleep.  But I wasn't sleeping, I was thinking of Jane naked, and what the
women had done in the video.  I pulled my nightshirt up to my neck, and I
played with my tits and pussy, hoping the other girls wouldn't notice."

   "And suddenly, there was Jane, under the covers with me, and she put her
hand over my mouth and whispered 'May I?' I didn't know what she meant, but
I didn't care, either.  So we masturbated together, and she lay on her
side, pressing her chest against mine, and I could feel the hardness of her
nipple against my tits.  And she was breathing heavily into my ear.  At one
point, she reached for my hand, and held it to my pussy and whispered
'touch me.' And I did, and she did it to me, and it didn't take too long to
hit orgasm.  I gasped, and Jane gasped just a little bit later."

   "And then the lights went on!  Leslie was at the switch, and Mary was
just staring from her mattress.  I was so scared, I thought for sure that
they'd never talk to Jane or me again.  But Leslie just pulled off her
nightgown, and sat down next to us, and SHE began playing with herself. 
For a moment, I thought Mary would start screaming.  She grimaced, as if
she couldn't or wouldn't believe what was going on.  And then she shrugged
her shoulders, smiled, and quit fighting it.  She pulled off her gown, lay
the re with her legs spread, and masturbated with the rest of us.  Then we
finally went to sleep."



   And that was how it started.  Karen's clique continued to have their
slumber parties, every two months or so.  The strip game became a standard,
and they all learned poker to accomodate it, but some of the rules changed
as time went on.  The girls became more adventurous, and the tenor of the
game reflected that.  For instance, the losing hand not only had to remove
a piece of clothing, but had to let the winning hand remove it.  When the
bra came off, the winner got to play with the newly revealed tits.  Wh en
panties were lost, the loser was not only naked, but had to perform two
minutes of whatever activity the winner directed.  And the last girl to
lose her panties became the "big loser" of the game, and had to do whatever
the other three said.

   I didn't realize how strong my lesbian tendencies were until Karen began
describing some of the more recent parties.  I knew all Karen's friends,
and hearing about all this clandestine sex- uality made me one horny bitch.
It was several evenings before I got the full story.  I could only stand to
hear about an hour of Karen's narrative before I had to have Karen's sweet
pussy and have her have me.  I could scarcely believe that all this was
going on practically under my nose.  All four girls were still dat ing
boys, and I wondered how much of their game was just adolescent
experimentation and if any would carry on into adulthood.  Of course, I was
only eighteen, and I could argue that my relationship with Karen was also
simply an adolescent experiment.  But it didn''t feel that way.

   Anyway, from Karen's reports of recent parties, it was clear that there
wasn't any sexual activity between women these girls hadn't tried.  For
instance, the last time Karen had been the loser, she had been ordered to
tongue each of the others to orgasm.  Then she was ordered to fuck herself
with her fingers, and then with a cucumber covered with a condom.  For the
rest of the evening, she remained naked, and had to allow herself to be
touched wherever and wherever and by whoever wanted to.  It sounded hum
iliating ...  and Karen had loved it.

   Another time, Mary lost, and they blindfolded her and tied her hands
together out over her head while she lay on her stomach.  Then each of the
girls had taken a turn sitting on Mary's hands.  Mary's job, of course, was
to masturbate them each to orgasm.  Simple enough, except that while Karen
was being fingered, Leslie would sit on Mary's back and massage her back
and sides and even her tits.  And Jane would sit between Mary's legs and
play with her pussy.

   I decided that I wanted to see one of these parties in action.  Karen
had never hosted one, and for no particullarly good reason.  Unless it was
that my parents preferred having Karen out on weekends than hosting a
party. Karen was excited by the idea of hostessing, but she worried that
her friends would feel threatened by my presence.  While I would have loved
to participate, I respected Karen's view.  Besides, I thought it might be
fun just to watch.  That alleviated Karen's fears, and we made plans to al
low me to do just that.

   III.  ALONE AT LAST



   Luck fell our way.  I had already made no plans for the weekend, but it
fell to me to oversee the house for the weekend.  My grandmother fell sick,
but not seriously so, but Mom and Dad decided to look in on her anyway. 
They made it clear that they had no problems leaving me in charge.  After
all, they pointed out, I was in already in charge every weekday night.  I
didn't argue the point, especially since they were taking Joey with them.

   They left on Friday afternoon, picking Joey up from school.  That left
Karen and I alone in the house for the entire night, the first such time we
had had together.  For while Karen could not give me Saturday night, she
was more than willing to offer herself for Friday.  When we left for school
that morning, she slipped a note in my binder.  It read "I am yours
tonight."

   With that in mind, I got precious little done at school on Friday.  My
friend Glenda even shook me at the end of History class to see if I was
still on Earth.  All I could think about was Karen and how I would use her.
About how we wouldn't have to limit ourselves to my bedroom.  And how we
wouldn't have to quit when we heard Mom and Dad pull into the driveway. 
That we could be together all night.

   I came home right after school and began preparing the house for the
evening's activities, knowing Karen would not be home until after five.  I
went around the entire house and pulled every window shade, but turned the
lights on in every room, too.  I went outside the house and circled around
a couple of times to make absolutely sure that noone could casually look in
on us.  Or determineably look in, either.  Then I took a bath, and prepared
for the evening.

   Karen arrived as expected, bearing her school books and some additional
food for the slumber party.  I let her put the food away before calling her
into the living room.  The table was set with wine and candlelight, and
there was cool, easy jazz coming from the stereo.  The smell of dinner
simmering wafted thru the house.  The lighting in the living room was low,
and I was sitting in the big easy chair, wrapped up in my bath towel. 
Karen didn't see me as she walked in, I guess she assumed that I was upstai
rs, because after she had put the food in the kitchen and dropped her
school books in the hall, she looked up the stairs and called for me.

   "I'm over here, Karen," I announced, in the huskiest voice I could had.
Karen turned, and seemed transfixed at the sight of me, as if I had put her
in some sort of trance.  It was as if she was affirming what she had said
in the note.  Slowly she walked into the living room until she was standing
right in the center.  There she stopped, as if she had received some
predefined signal.  I was impressed, and flattered.

   "Take off your clothes, Karen," I said, adding "Slowly." Karen complied.
I don't know where she got the idea for that trancelike state, maybe it
heightened the experience for her.  It certainly did that for me.  I was
almost transfixed as she seemed as I watched her step out of her shoes,
undo the buttons of her sweater, unbutton the blouse beneath it.  In one
fluid motion, Karen shucked the blouse and sweater and they fell to floor
behind her.  I found it hard to take it all in because of her blank stare,
my eyes seemed drawn to her big, open, brown eyes.  She undid her skirt,
and that fluttered down to the ground, falling about her feet as would a
Christmas tree skirt.  Though I had seen her naked practically every night
for four months, my heart leapt as she undid her bra, surprising me, too,
for the bra had no straps and it clasped in front, and therefore she did
not have to make any move which was not graceful to undo it.  It fell
softly to the ground as she shook it from her shoulders.  She had worn no
hose, just small peds, which she managed to remove with graceful tugs with
her toes.  Then she reached down to the bikini panties, and tugged at the
sided slowly, pushing them downwards without bending, until at last the
backs of them had come below the roundness of her rump.  Somehow, with just
a minimum of movement, she had them falling to her feet.  Then she just
stood there, and I drank in the beautiful body of my fifteen year old
sister.  Her breasts were high and round, and the nipples pointed skywar d
still.  It seemed appropriatte to describe them as pert.

   I stood up and approached her.  I was still a few inches taller than
Karen (we would eventually be exactly the same height,) and I gazed
downward into her eyes.  Her stare remained, but her eyes followed mine. 
From the coffee table, I retrieved the black choker, the symbol of
servitude Karen always wore when we took up our roles.  I placed it around
her neck, and circled her a few times, the same way the first day she had
placed herself at my peculiar brand of mercy.  I could see her nipples
stiffen, which pleased me.  I reached out to caress both her breasts,
looking her square in the eye as I did so.  I did to them what I knew she
loved most, I rolled them gently along my index finger, while feeling the
weight of her tits in my hand.

   This broke her trance.  She closed her eyes and began to shiver. 
Inwardly I smiled, but kept the stern, impassive look on my face.  I
tweaked the nipples gently, just enough to open her eyes.  Then I patted
her rump and walked back to the chair.  "Please clean up after yourself,
Karen," I said as I sat down.  She gathered up her clothes in a pile and
walked to the stairs.  She looked to me for assurance, and I nodded.  While
she was upstairs, I checked on dinner, and became aware of how
uncomfortable the towe l had become.  I scanned the room to make sure I
hadn't forgotten the window.  Presently, Karen returned.  She stood
tentatively at the kitchen door.

   I motioned her to go to the living room.  I noticed that she had taken
the time to touch up her makeup (not that she wore much anyway,) and that
she had put on some perfume that she knew I liked.  I remember thinking,
"God, how I love you," as I followed her into the room.  I ordered her to
undo my towel and fold it neatly on the coffee table.  (I had plans for it
later.) On the sofa were the clothes I had chosen for the evening, and I
motioned her to get them and dress me.  There wasn't much there, I admit ,
just the same lace black bra and black panties, and the thin black
peignoir. But there was also some jewelry, not to mention a few special
items of clothing.  I had been looking at some fetish and bondage mags, and
while I didn't feel ready for a full leather corset yet, I liked the idea
of a leather garter belt and black hose.

   I acted stern as Karen dressed me, but I sympathized with her as she
tried to figure out how to put the garter belt on.  I didn't help though.
Once it was on, she held the rolled stockings to my feet and I stepped into
them.  To tell the truth, neither of us had ever seen the sort of snaps the
garter belt had, and it took a lot of control not to giggle as Karen fought
with them.  Karen got the first one right after a lot of false starts, and
other four followed without incident.  Then I stepped into the pa nties as
she kneeled before me, and as Karen pulled them into place on my hips, our
eyes met.  But true to her role, Karen cast her eyes downward almost
immediattely.  Karen finished with the bra and the peignor, and I thanked
her for her attendance.

   I then moved to the table, where I took my seat at the head of the
table. "Serve dinner, please," I said, but Karen was already in the
kitchen, preparing my plate.  As she placed the dish before me, I caught a
whiff of the perfume I so loved on her, and it made me want to sit her down
on my lap and make love to her.  But that was the pleasure of this evening.
We had plenty of time.

   Karen went and got a dish for herself, and sat at the opposite end of
the dining room table.  As I ate, I kept looking at her, thinking how
beautiful she was, how innocent her face looked in the candlelight.  And
how luscious her breasts looked.  Then I realized that she was not eating,
just sitting there.  How quaint, I thought, and how true to her station. 
"You may eat, Karen," I announced, and she smiled and set to her dinner.

   When we had finished the meal (it was pot roast, green beans, and
carrots, in case you are interested,) Karen gathered up the plates and
served us dessert.  I had not prepared dessert, and Karen was free to
choose.  She brought dishes of ice cream.  I was about to take a bite, when
I had a perfectly sinful idea, a perfect blend of sensuality and lust. 
"Karen," I said, "We won't eat dessert just yet.  Bring our dishes into the
living room, please." I got up, and Karen followed me, ice cream in hand. I
asked her to lay the towel out on the floor, and to lay down on it.  I had
her put her hands behind her head, cross her legs, and ordered her to be
still until I finished my dessert.  Then I picked up my dish of ice cream,
and placed a large ball of it on Karen's navel.  She stiffened, and her
nipples hardened, and Karen shivered as I ate that first ball, shivered
more when I put a second ball in the hollow between her breasts.  Only by
now the ice cream wasn't so cold, and her shivers were excitement, not
chill I let a bit of cream spill onto her nipple as I lifted the spoon, and
felt her spasm a bit, and there was a small smile on her face.  When it
became impossible to eat with a spoon, I used my fingers to pick up the
drippings.  I made sure Karen got a good look as I sucked the ice cream off
my fingers.  I felt perfectly licentious and wanton as I ate and I don't
think that ice cream ever again tasted quite as good as it did just then.

   When I was finished, I announced that it was time for Karen's dessert. I
had her stand, and I let her wipe herself dry with the towel.  Then I took
the towel from her and spread it on the chair.  Holding my legs out to her,
I ordered her to remove my panties.  Once this was done, I lifted my legs
over the arms of the chair, and had Karen bring me her dish of ice cream.
It was quite melted by now, which suited my purposes perfectly.

   "Turn around," I said, and I held her hands behind her and bound them
together with thongs I had laid out for other purposes.  I opened my
peignor, removed my bra, and picked up the dish of ice cream.  I had Karen
turn around and said "Now you can eat your dessert." Whereupon, I began
dribbling ice cream on my tits.  Karen had chosen dark chocolate fudge for
me.  Until now, it had been my favorite for the flavor.  Now I marvelled at
how indecent and strange it looked as it marbled its way around the nipples
and aereole.

   Karen needed no urging.  She bent down and began tonguing my tits,
fighting to keep her balance.  While I had read about how sensuous this
experience could be, I was unprepared for the luscious feel of the ice
cream, the contrast between its liquid chill and the warm breath of my
sister against my skin.  When Karen had lapped up four or five tablespoons,
I made her move downwards, dripping a little cream here and there for her
to eat.  When she was down on her knees before me, I began dribbling ice
cream o n my pubic mound, on the soft down, and on the open inner lips.  I
was so excited, especially when Karen began to lap at my clit, I could
swear that I sucked some ice cream into my canal.  Karen didn't let up, and
that same sensation of chill and warmth excited me to no end.  I was
absolutely certain I would black out when Karen put her lips to my cunt and
began to suck the liquid from my ice cream moisted vaginal canal.  But I
held on, held on until all the ice cream was gone and I could put the bowl
down. Then I grabbed Karen's head and held her tight to me.  Her nose was
directly upon my clit, and her tongue was as deep inside me as it could
get. I began to spasm and squirm and writhe, and I wrapped my legs around
Karen's back.  If I hurt her when I came, I didn't mean to, despite my
proclivities in that area.  If she was hurt, she never said a word.

   Karen was thorough, for once I had come, she proceeded to lick me as
clean as she could.  This almost set me off again, but I steeled myself to
save more orgasms for later in the evening.  I would need my strength ...
and Karen, God bless her, she'd need hers, too.

   I pushed her away when I felt I had had enough.  Karen looked dejected,
but I could see in her eyes that this was just part of the role.  I stood,
leaving the bra and peignor in the chair, and ordered Karen to stand and
stand very still.  I was just slightly at a loss, because my original plans
had not included the effects of having ice cream smeared all over our
bodies.  So I ordered Karen to pick up my clothes and follow me to the
master bedroom.

   That was another nice thing about having the house all to ourselves. 
Instead of the twin bed in my room with the bathroom down the hall, we
could use my parent's kingsize bed with the adjoining bathroom.  While you
might think that the bed was the more promising attraction, I must tell you
that the bathroom had promising possibilities of its own.  My Dad was a
carpenter early in life, and a plumber's helper as well.  While those were
skills he didn't use in his present job, he did use them around the hous e.
And Mom had always dreamed of a Hollywood bathroom.  One where the tub was
large and luxuriant, with shower facilities, a bidet as well as a commode,
and a vanity.  Dad gave her almost exactly what she wanted.  He converted
an adjoining bedroom into a private bath, and the original bathroom became
a closet.  The bathroom was always off-limits to us kids, but occasionally
Mom would invite us to take a bath as a special treat.  I got Mom's
permission to use it while they were away.  If they had known how I w as
going to use it ...

   I sat down at the vanity and after unbinding her hands, I ordered Karen
to draw me a bath.  While she did that, I took my time looking around for
ways to utilize the bathroom creatively.  I hit upon an idea which would
emphasize our roles.  Karen walked up to the bidet and presented her pussy
for relief.  When she was thru, I did the same, enjoying the pleasant,
cleansing rinse the fixture afforded.  But before I did, I ordered Karen to
turn and face away from me.  When I was done, I stood there, waiting.  Af
ter a few seconds, I said, "Well, Karen?"

   "Yes?" Karen asked.  She was puzzled, and of course I didn't blame her.
But of course it made a dandy way of instigating her "punishment" for the
night.

   "You have forgotten to clean me.  I thought you might have known to do
it, but I guess you'll have to be taught the hard way." I ordered her to
come over and take some toilet paper off the roll.  "Now wipe me dry,
Karen."

   I held my legs slightly apart as she reached between my legs with the
paper.  I was ecstatic, not because it had any great physical effect, but
because I had finally found something which Karen actually found
distasteful.  Karen performed the act perfuntorily and without pleasure,
and I sensed some disgust in her demeanor.  Well, that would come in handy.

   The bath was now ready.  I had Karen remove my garter beld and
stockings, and I entered the water.  Karen had drawn it perfectly to my
liking, but I announced that it was a bit too hot.  Karen didn't argue.

   Now I have to describe this tub.  It's incredible.  The best analogy I
can come up with is a map of the ocean floor.  Just off the coast, the
shoreline slopes away gently.  Then, several miles out, it falls off in a
steep cliff.  Well, imagine an oval ocean set inside a sloping contintental
shelf.  That's what this tub is like.  Three sides of this marble
extravaganza come right up to the bathroom's tile walls, and the square is
about seven feet on each side.  The tub was a golden marble, the tile walls
a rich golden brown.  All the fittings were brass, even the shower head. 
The oval shape, set along the diagonal to the square, leaves plenty of room
on the sides for toiletries, even room enough to sit comfortably with feet
dangling in the tub.  The bottom has depressions into which the human
bottom fits quite nicely.  You'ld expect this magnificent tub to have glass
doors, but it doesn't.  Instead, a transparent, two layer curtain runs the
length of the open wall.  It was specially made so as to hook into either
wall, and the inner curtain makes it impossible (well, very difficult,
anyway,) for shower water to fall outside the tub.

   It was wanton in its opulence, as was the whole bathroom.  I had no
trouble imagining Mom and Dad using it as a lovemaking palace.  They had
every reason to have declared it off limits.

   For now, I found the depressions, and settled in gently, bracing myself
with my legs against the sides of the tub.  I had Karen sit on the side of
the tub, and directed her to soap me up.  Karen had gotten over the disgust
I had subjected her to, and eagerly washed my back and arms and shoulders.
I leaned my head back as she moved over my shoulders to my tits, which
Karen seemed to linger over longer than was necessary.  Then she moved to
my feet which I had draped over the sides of the tub.  She was about to put
the soap and washcloth down when I reminded her that she had missed a few
parts of my body.  I brought my hips up off the bottom of the tub, and
presented my pussy to her washcloth.  Then I lowered myself, and allowed
her to begin washing my hair.

   The strangest thing about the evening was how quiet we were with each
other.  Usually, we were in our roles for less than an hour, more likely
thirty minutes.  Then we would be making love on my bed, and talking after
that.  Tonight, Karen had already been my abject slave for two hours.  I
had never ordered her to refrain from speaking, but Karen seemed to define
her submission with that in mind.  Despite the excitement of our evening
alone, the pleasures of dinner and bath, and the rewards of our mutual lu
st, I was finding the silence a little eerie.

   After the bath, I let Karen towel me dry, then I sat at the vanity while
she combed and dried my hair.  As Karen worked on my hair, I watched her in
the mirror.  She was intent at the task, speaking seldom, not even to ask
me to turn my head.  But there was love in the gentle stroking of the combs
and brushes thru my raven hair, love in her eyes, too, when I caught her
looking up from her handiwork to see us both in the mirror.  I felt the
urge to gather her to me, cuddle her, kiss her, feel her kissing me , not
in her role as my slave, but as Karen, my sister and my love.

   But there would be time for tenderness later in the evening.  My plans
for Karen this evening had centered on my parent's enourmous king-sized
bed, with its brass headboard and footpanel.  But while Karen had bathed
me, I had looked at the surroundings and changed my mind.  Already the
image of Karen at my mercy in the tub was causing me warm, tingling
feelings.

   Karen held a hand mirror and asked if my hair was done to my
satisfaction.  Her voice drew me back to the present; I had been several
minutes into our immediatte future.  I looked into the mirror, which
reflected my image in the large mirror behind it.  I was thrilled.  Karen
had a way with my hair that I, unfortunately, did not.  It was wavy, and
though its basic shape was familiar to me, it had more body, framed my face
better.  It was lovely.

   But what I said was, "It will do, Karen.  Now get into the tub." As
usual, Karen did what she was told, and even held her hands behind her
back, expecting me to bind her up again.  Well, I had that in mind, but in
a different way.  I pulled her hands in front of her, had her kneel, and
had her hold her hands out in front of her, wrists together.  After
wrapping a doubly-folded washcloth around each wrist, I bound her wrists
together tightly with a thick leather thong.  Then I pulled her to her
feet, (she gr unted, but did not complain,) and raised her arms to reach
the shower fixture.  I had noticed it while bathing, and thought I could
put Karen in a rather undignified pose by binding her wrists to it.  But
the fixture was just a hooking device into which the shower head fit, and
it was cemented to the tile, not bolted into the wall.  It was not safe.

   DAMN!  I thought, for I could see no other way to make my plan work. 
Karen was fighting her restraints a bit, for I had made them tight on the
theory that they'd loosen when wet.  I had to find an anchor soon.

   And there it was, staring me in the face.  On each of the three walls
was a soap dish with a tile handle, set at shoulder level.  I had wanted
Karen to be stretched out upwards, but immediattely saw the possiblities
afforded by these handles.  I tested them, and they seemd firm.  I prayed
that they were firm enough to stand up to Karen.  I untied her wrists, saw
that they had indeed been tight.  I tied a thong to each of her wrists,
made sure they were tight.  Then I tied one wrist to the handle on the left
w all, and one wrist to the handle on the far wall.  This allowed her to
move side to side some, but only slightly.  I had worried about her losing
her footing, but there was a bathmat which I could place under her feet.  I
didn't know if this would help, but it certainly improved the look of
Karen's helplessness: I tied a thick leather belt around her waist, and
tied it to the handle on the left wall.

   Believe this or not, I think Karen had half expected to be bound up in
the shower ever since we had entered Mom's bathroom.  One thing she did not
expect was that I tossed on my robe at this point, left the bathroom, and
left her bound like that for about five minutes.  It wasn't the most
comfortable position to be in, and I am sure it heightened her sense of
frustration, if not her fear.  I gathered up some things I had planned to
use in the bedroom.

   I entered the bathroom, put my booty down on the vanity.  I picked up
the Polaroid and took three or four pictures of Karen in her humiliating
position.  I had to fight off the urge to say "Smile!" It would have been
terribly out of character.  Karen groaned under her breath, but otherwise
didn't object.  Later, she told me that she, (just as I had been,) had been
afraid to move too much, lest she pull one of the soap dishes out of the
wall.  I was thankful for her restraint.

   After putting on a shower cap, (I was not about to undo the lovely work
Karen had done,) I took down the shower head and turned on the water.  I
made it comfortably warm, and began to wet Karen down.  One of the nice
things about the removable shower head was that I could get to all parts of
Karen's body, in very unusual ways.  Like holding the head fountain like
against her chest.  Karen liked that, liked it even more when I played the
water between her legs.

   Of course, with Karen bound up, I couldn't exactly order her to wash
herself.  That was fine with me.  I couldn't wait to get my hands on her.
First I washed and rinsed her hair thoroughly, taking care not to get soap
in her eyes.  I had a bit of trouble getting around her, for with her arms
spread and her body bent forward, Karen took up most of the tub.  But never
mind, I simply brushed cheerily up against her body.  Using the same
scented soap Karen had used to wash me, I lathered up a washcloth and set
to the task.  This, of course, took a very long time, you understand, as I
peppered my talk with comments on how servants just didn't know how to
bathe themselves properly.  I lathered her arms, her legs, her armpits, her
neck, her face.  I squeezed in front of her to do her face, and despite her
discomfiture, Karen was smiling as I ran the washcloth over her nose, brow
and cheeks.  One of the very nicest things for me about Karen bound this
way was that her normally high, firm breasts were forced to hang d own from
her chest.  They were still firm and round, and the nipples refused to
point fully to the floor, even with gravity pulling at them.  But they
swayed with a gentle, gelatin- like rhythm as I washed her arms and neck
and face.  I took a moment to hold both of them in my hands, to feel the
weight of them against my palms, to feel the hardness of Karen's nipples as
I fingered them.  At one point, Karen's eyes met mine, and we kissed
breifly, but I broke it off, remaining in character.

   Then I moved to her side, ducking out from under her arm, and lathered
up her back, her belly, her rear.  I kneeled underneath her to the front
and back of her legs, and felt as I did the weight of her tits against the
back of my head.  I soaped up her pussy very lightly, then came out from
under her.  I began playing the water over her again, rinsing her off
thouroughly.  If I let it play longer over her pussy than I had to, Karen
didn't seem to mind.  I turned the water off and stood back, drawing the
sho wer curtain open.  I took a couple of pictures of Karen, still bound,
soaking wet.  I ordered her to lift her head up high, and she strained
against her bonds to do so.  The picture captured perfectly her humiliation
and helplessness.

   I took off my shower cap and let my hair hang freely.  The fan in the
ceiling was creating a nice breeze, pulling cool air in from the bedroom as
it sucked the humidity out of the room.  I picked up the handcream, and
began smoothing it over Karen's body.  I smoothed it over her smooth, bent
back, up and down her straining arms, down her legs, across her belly.  I
stood behind her, pushing my naked body up hard against hers, leaning over
her back with my arms around her to rub the cream into her hanging ti ts.
Again, I reveled in the feel of the weight of her breasts.  I began rubbing
her nipples, soft and sensuously until they were rock hard.  Karen began to
moan, to strain against the leather thongs, and her hips began to grind
against mine.  I began to pull softly on her nipples, then harder and
harder.  Karen seemed to feed on the pain, and I fed on Karen's acceptance
of her lot.  I left one hand on her breast, began to knead it harder and
harder, while with my other hand I began wending my way to Karen's
delicious pussy.  I rubbed my hand thru her pubic hair, then pulled softly
at it, and Karen gasped as I began to coordinate my caresses of two
disparate parts of her anatomy.  I would tweak on her nipple, pulling it
out from her chest, until I was sure she was feeling the pain.  Then I
would let go, and Karen would gasp in pain and releif.  When she was just
catching her breath, I pulled tightly and rapidly on her pubic hair as it
wound around my fingers.  Karen would gasp again, and before she caught her
br eath, my other hand was back on her breast, kneading rather than
caressing, digging my fingers hard into her soft flesh.  Then I would
release her breast and flick my finger hard against her clit.  This made
Karen jump, would break the rhythm of her bump and grinds.  Then I would
start caressing her breast again, until her passion rose anew.  And again I
would stunt it with the nipple tweak, the pubic pull, the breast knead, and
the clit flick.  I repeated this four times, and could feel Karen
trembling, get ting weak in the knees.  Her breath was ragged and she was
begging for release.  "Please, please," she cried, but I was not ready to
do this for her yet.

   I began soft stroking her breast, while I disentagled my other hand from
her pubes.  I placed my foot between her legs and forced them open.  With
my other hand, I began to explore her pussy, first with soft, gentle
gestures upon Karen's clit, slowly working my way down her downy labia
until I reached her vaginal passage.  It was, as I expected, hot and moist,
in clear contrast to the coolness of the air and the water.  Karen gasped
as I slid my finger in, deep into the moist, jelly-like recesses of her pr
ivate tunnel.  Harder now I played with her nipples, occasionally moving
from tit to tit, until both her nipples were hard again.  Karen was doing
the bump and grind again, more animated now, as I plunged my finger deep
inside of her and then, slowly, drew it out, pressing hard on the walls of
her cunt as I left her.  In and out I went until Karen's rhythm matched the
movement of my fingers.  I drew my hand away from her breasts, and began to
move along her flank slowly and sensuously.  I pressed my palm aga inst her
clit to heighten her pleasure, still plunging in and out of her.  My other
hand was caressing her dear, dear derriere, feeling the softness of the
newly washed and freshly lotioned skin.  Karen was moaning now, softly, her
head moving side to side, her eyes closed.

   I paused slightly in my manipulations of Karen's dear sweet vagina.  And
then, my middle finger still deep within her cunt, I braced that arm
against her belly, drew back my other arm a bit, and brought it down in a
wide-handed slap against Karen's rump.  Karen started at that, as I
expected, she let out a scream, and her entire body stiffened.  Thanks be
to the powers that be, for the soap dish handles held against her
straining. I thought I saw a tear forming in her eye as she looked back
over her shoul der, anger and hurt in her eyes.  But her body betrayed her,
or it fed on the anger, because her hips quickly began their bump and grind
again, forcing my finger to do continue its probing.  I moved with her
again, and drew my arm back again, bringing it down again, widehanded as
before, but softer, more gently, a hard love tap.  Then a sharp slap again,
and she pulled at her bound wrists, tossing her damp hair back and forth as
she tried to reconcile herself to both pain and pleasure.

   I felt the heat rising in my veins as I spanked Karen's rump, could feel
the heat rising in her as well.  The shock of that first slap had worn off,
Karen was now taking each blow as an added incentive to her ecstasy.  I
decided that the time had come, and I removed my fingers from her cunt and
reached for my final surprise.

   I continued to stroke Karen's rump, caressing it for a long while
between the hard love taps.  I made sure to circle her little rosebud
asshole, made sure to tease her vaginal opening.  Karen was still breathing
heavily when she heard the whir of my device, and her eyes went wide with
delight as I reached between her legs from behind to press the vibrator
against the entire length of her pink cleft, the tip of the device resting
squarely on her throbbing clit.  I drew it back and forth against her cunt,
w atched her close her eyes, undulate her head, bite her lip gently.  She
was enjoying this, and so was I.

   I drew it back and forth, side to side, until her hips were moving
slowly and sensuously side to side.  I felt my own breath quicken, and I
felt my nipples hardening.  I stroked her rump, an occasional slap on one
round melon or the other, and soon Karen was crying "Please, Please,
Please, Sis, let me come!"

   I drew the vibrator back to her anus, played with it a bit, meanwhile
tweaking her tits.  Then I moved the vibrator down to her canal, which was
hot and moist.  I parted her cunt lips with one hand, held them wide open.
I felt some trepidation as I proceeded, for now I intended to enter my
sister's privates with something much more invasive and impersonal than my
finger.  I knew Karen felt it too, and I took care to enter her gently.  It
was a long vibrator, thick as the average cock, and I had covered it with a
condom slathered with vaseline.  I moved it in a very small amount, gauging
my progress by my sister's reactions.

   Karen was crying now, not from pain, but from frustration and longing.
She moaned and bit her lip as I moved the vibrator into her, until an inch
and a half of it had dissapperared inside of her.  Suddenly, Karen gasped,
and moving her hips hard, drove them back hard around the vibrator.  Thank
god it was over a foot long, for Karen's vaginal contraction pulled it
right out of my hand.  I grabbed for it, began moving it in and out of her,
punctuating my movements with slaps to her butt in time with her ow n
savage thrusts back and forth.  Karen was like an animal, growling,
snarling, and her tits shook crazily in wide, wanton circles.  In four
months of bondage, spanking, and lovemaking, I had never seen Karen like
this.  If I hadn't been so excited, I might have had time to be frightened.
But I kept moving the vibrator, watching Karen's labia grip it as I drew it
out, watching it being pulled from my grasp as she drew it in with her own
inner resources.  And thru it all I continued the hard love taps on her
rump, until Karen let out a bloodcurdling scream, spasming and writhing as
she did so.  I saw her hands clench into fists, felt her body stiffen,
shudder.  I figured she had come.

   I was wrong.  Karen pushed her hips back hard against me, as if to say
she expected more.  I didn't even think about what I did next.  I moved
behind her, pressing against the vibrator with my body, my legs tight and
together.  The flat end of the vibrator was just above my own clit, and I
used that to excite me (not that I needed much more help at that point,)
and to keep the vibrator anchored in Karen's cunt.  I reached around her to
hold her tight to me, cupped her tits in my hands, rolling the nipples a
round in exactly the way I knew she adored.  Karen continued thrusting back
and forth, drawing the vibrator in and out as much as she could, though it
wasn't much with me hard against her.  And I held on tight, kept moving in
rythem with her.  I could feel my own pent-up orgasm welling up from deep
inside me.

   Then Karen was groaning and her thrusts became shudders.  Against my
arms about her I could feel her stomach muscles tighten, even feel the
vibrations race across her belly.  And against my cunt I could feel the
vibrator as it shook along with Karen, and it felt damned, fucking
wonderful.  Suddenly I was shuddering, too, uncontrollably, as the red fire
enveloped me and all my body.  Karen was crying out my name, crying out
"YES, YES, FUCK ME!" as we both rode out the orgasm, and I tried to support
her as m uch as hold on, for I knew we would both be weak in the knees.  I
lost sight of Karen, the bathroom, and everything else when the blackness
hit me, and I held on to Karen's hips for dear life.

   If felt like many minutes, but it was only a few seconds before I came
to, and before the weakness hit me, I moved to untie my sister from the tub
handles.  I gently removed the vibrator as I pulled away, and Karen gasped
appreciatively as it left her love canal.  I untied one hand, and Karen
pulled me to her with her newly freed arm.  Our lips met in a fiery kiss,
Karen's tongue deep into my mouth, practically sucking breath from me.  I
returned the kiss with equal fervor, and somehow managed to untie her other
wrist as I did so.  I didn't even break the kiss as I maneuvered her back
to the wall so that I could untie her waist.

   And at that point, Karen attacked me.  Not with violence, but with her
body, her passion, her love.  And I let her.  I was more than willing to
have her as my equal for a while.  I let her move me out of the tub, I let
her push me gently into the bedroom, where our parents' turned-down bed
awaited us.  I saw her pick up the vibrator out of the corner of my eye,
and we fell together, still embracing, onto the bed.

   We indulged in kissing each other for a very long time, the only other
contact being our arms behind each others backs.  Karen's long fingers
stroked thru my hair, and I lost myself in the feel of her tongue and lips.
Soon she was moving down my chest to kiss and suck on my pointy tits, with
her arms still around my neck and her hands still stroking my face.  I
remember kissing her fingers one by one, sucking them as if they were
little cocks or large clits.  Karen's body was warm against mine, and the
fe el of the meeting of our skin was indescribable.  I felt her tits
hanging hard against my belly, felt her hips forcing my thighs wide open. I
felt as if I was melting into her, as if we'd become one single body,
forever embracing.

   Then her arms were leaving my neck, and her lips were moving from my
nipples to the hollow between my breasts, and her tongue weaved a snakelike
pattern down my chest and belly.  Now she was forcing my legs open with her
entire body, and I was in heaven anticipating where Karen would go from
here.  Then her hands were cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples, teasing
them into hardness.  And her mouth was down around my pubes, her shoulders
forcing my legs as wide as they would go.

   I was lost in her tonguing of my cunt when I felt the cool plastic of
the vibrator causing ripples of sensation along the skin of my tits. 
Slowly Karen pushed the tip against my nipples, and I put my hands behind
my head so as not to impede her.  I drew my knees up to anchor myself, and
Karen wrapped her arms about my legs, pulling her mouth closer still to my
dripping labia.  Then her arm was encircling my leg and the vibrator had
moved between my legs.  Karen was teasing my clit with it even as her tong
ue darted into my cunt, parting my inner lips, spreading her nectar and
mine along my insides.  The familiar warm feeling spread through me, and
suddenly my hands were no longer on my head but on Karen's, holding her
hard to her task of pleasuring me.  Then I was shuddering and crying out,
"Yes, Karen, yes, go, do it, fuck me, suck me!" I was like a madwoman, and
when Karen moved to move the vibrator into me, I was in heaven or hell,
take your pick.  Her tongue lapped at my clit while she moved the vibrato r
in and out, and there was pleasure, too, in simply knowing that the
condom-covered instrument had only minutes before been deep inside the body
of this young woman I loved so completely.  It did not take long before I
was writhing in ecstacy.

   When it was over, I pulled her to me, and we cuddled on the bed,
whispering words of love that only women can speak.  We entwined our arms,
our legs, our hands, even our toes.  The skin of Karen's thigh felt cool
against the blood-engorged skin of my cunt, and I delighted in the feel of
her soft down against my leg.  She was so much prettier than I was, yet I
was not jealous, for that prettiness was mine to have and to hold.  And I,
for her, was the catalyst to arouse her passions and her fantasies, the wo
man who was always there for her.

   I laughed suddenly.

   "What's so funny?" asked Karen, while she nuzzled my neck.

   "You're still wet.  And so are those thongs you're still wearing." I ran
my hand thru her damp mop of hair.  "Let's get this dry!" And I pulled her
into the bathroom by her waist thong.  We laughed as we caught an image of
ourselves in Mom's full-length mirror, and we took two Polaroids of
ourselves standing side by side in Mom's tub as souveniers.



   While drying her hair, Karen asked me, "What time is it, Sis?" Karen
wouldn't even allow me to comb her hair.  Parodying her own submissive
role, she had said, with a mock English accent, "Why, no, ma'am, I couldn't
let you do that for me!" I was surprised to find that it was only just nine
o'clock.  I asked Karen to guess the time.

   "Ten or eleven?"

   "Nine!"

   "Yikes!  That early?  What'll we do?"

   I had no doubt that we would think of something.

   The rest of our evening alone was a monument to wanton decadance.  We
retired to the den, lit a few candles, and sat togther watching romantic
movies on our VCR.  We ate chocolates and popcorn and more ice cream.  I
wore only my black peignor, lightly tied.  I had offered Karen a lacy blue
nightie from my wardrobe, but she refused, saying, "Oh, no, ma'am, I
couldn't wear your gowns, oh no." She was serious this time, not mocking,
and I realized she was asking us to return to our roles.  So I took up my
domi nant tone and informed Karen that if she didn't think herself good
enough to wear my nightgown, she could remain naked all night.  Though her
eyes were downcast, I caught the faint glimpse of a smile.

   So I ordered her to dress me again in my peignor, which was all I felt
like wearing.  The robe covered me from neck to toe, but it was absolutely
sheer and hid nothing.  If anything, it accentuated my nakedness.  I had
Karen afix the frog catch at its neck, and I let it remain that way so that
as I walked, it separated and trailed behind me.

   Karen I adorned in a makeshift harness of leather thongs.  One I tied
about her waist in such a way that the loose end could be brought up thru
the her crotch, under the waist loop in front, and then up to her neck
where I made a large loop anchored with a non-slip lock.  I didn't want her
to choke if I choose to lead her around by the harness.

   I got another, thinner thong, and looped it thru the slip knot behind
her back, then tied both her wrists to the ends.  This left her able to
move about freely, but I could imobilize her if I so chose.  I brought her
down to the kitchen, had her hold her arms out to her sides with dishes of
food in each, and took another Polaroid for posterier ...  I mean,
posterity.

   We settled into the big sofa in the den, and Karen served me all night.
At one point, I watched Karen coming from the living room and realized that
the harness had some significance to our relationship beyond bondage.  For
the cross it made at her waist, and the neck loop which ended in a V at the
hollow between her breasts formed a variation of that ancient Egyptian
fertility symbol, the Ankh.

   It was nine thirty when Mom called to find out how we were doing.  While
I assurred her that we were doing quite fine, (just how fine, I was not
about to say,) Karen began kissing and sucking at my tits.  It took every
bit of willpower to resist doing or saying anything about it.

   But I got back at her ...  Mom asked to talk to Karen, and while she
gave Karen a dollop of advice about her slumber party, I reached down and
slipped my finger underneath the leather thong and began fingering Karen's
clit.  Karen held on to her composure on the phone, but her body shook so
much, I could feel the couch vibrating.

   It was inevitable that we would make love again.  Sitting beside each
other, we found it impossible to keep our hands from roaming over each
others' body.  At one point, I was running my hand from one tit to another
when my fingers caught on the cord which ran to her crotch.  Karen gasped
in delight, and I realized that there was a delightful fringe benefit to my
harness.  I reached behind her, and pulled gently at the cord where it met
the waistband.  Karen gasped again.  I pulled the wrist thongs until I h ad
both her hands behind her, and formed a tight grip on all three strands. 
Pulling gently in erratic rhythms caused the thong to rub along Karen's
clit, which at that point was all she needed to be rocketed to orgasm. 
When I finally let loose my grip, Karen was breathing heavily after a
series of explosive orgasms.  The room was heavy with her odor and the
leather thong was damp between her legs.  On her face was a smile which
could only mean one thing ...  she was totally satisfied.

   Well, I wasn't satisfied.  After watching Karen go thru one orgasm after
another, crying and moaning and groaning, had left me one horny mistress. I
wrapped the loose wrist cords around her wrists so that they were partially
immobilized, and pulled Karen to her feet by the harness.  I ordered her
into the living room, where I made her lie down on her stomach and then
tied her ankles together.  Then I lit a candle, sat down on the floor
fifteen feet away across the room, and spread my legs wide.  I felt ent
irely wanton and perverse as I whispered into the dimness, "Come, Karen,
eat me!"

   Karen was a wonder.  She didn't seem to care what sort of use I put her
to, so long as there was an orgasm or a spanking involved.  Which one of us
got to come didn't seem to matter either.  She pulled herself snakelike
across the rug until her head was between my thighs, and reached out with
her tongue to massage my pussy.  I rested my legs on her back, and with one
of my feet, I caught hold of the cord around her waist.  When I tugged on
it, I could hear her gasp and feel her shudder.  I reached down with one
hand, held my labia open so that Karen could more easily kiss and suck the
pink inner lips, and Karen obliged me once again by darting her tongue
against my clit and then dropping down to dart deep into my cunt.  I played
with my tits breifly, but found myself drawn to watch Karen as she writhed
around on the ground, her legs kicking in unison, her tits mashed against
the floor, her hands straining to get out of the mass of thongs I had
wrapped them in.  And soon I couldn't even watch, for the preassu re built
up inside me to the breaking point.  I came, and I came, and I came, until
I felt as if I would pass out.

   But I didn't, I simply cried out into the candle-lit room and grabbed
Karen's shoulders, noticing that she was coming too.  For I realized that
she was not trying to get her hands out of the harness, she was actually
pulling at the harness as I had done, to bring herself to orgasm wiht me.

   And that we did.  Together, in one massive spasm, both of us came, both
of us cried out, both of us moaned, both of us felt the familiar orgiastic
pattern of our muscles as they contracted and expanded until both of us
collapsed in delerious bliss.  As if to say goodbye, Karen cupped my clit
with her lips and kissed it lightly before falling away from me.

   I pulled her to me, and we lay there for a long, long time.  I cradled
her head in my lap, stroking her face which was moist with my own love
juice.  Karen licked my fingers as they passed over her mouth.  We dozed
off that way, Karen still bound, and me with my peignor draped over us
both.

   It was nearly two in the morning when I awoke suddenly, aware of the
darkness.  Funny how something like a candle burning out can wake you.  I
jostled Karen.  She somehow got to her feet, and tried to follow me to
Mom's bedroom.  This was not easy, for her ankles were still tied.  After a
few feet, I lifted her into my arms, and carried her to the now-rumpled
bed. Karen never really woke up.  I untied her ankles, undid her wrists.  I
left the harness on, though.  It was such a nice piece of work.



   IV.  PARTY DOLL SPY



   It was the phone that woke us.  Mom telling us what the plans were for
Sunday, that they'd be home sometime after six.  Yes, Mom, everything is
fine, I'll be fine, the party will be fine.  It's just four girls, Mom, I
can handle it.  How's Grandma?  Good.  Yes, I'd like to.  Hi, Grandma,
feeling better?  Glad to hear it.  Yeah, next month.  Business school.  No,
not just secratarial school, accounting, bookeeping, that sort of stuff. 
Office management.  How's Aunt Ethel?  Good.  She keeping you company? 
That's nice. Karen?  Still asleep, I think.  I'll tell her you called. 
We'll call tomorrow.  You get well.  Mom?  Yes, Karen's asleep.  I don't
know, maybe she was up later than I thought.  Say hi to Joey.  See you
tomorrow.

   Karen stirred.  She shook her hands, noticing that they were no longer
tied.  "Sleep well?" I asked her, and she nodded, wearily.

   "Can I take these off?" She held her hands up, pointing to the
wristbands with thier trailing thongs.

   "Of course.  Some night, huh?"

   Karen lay back and stretched her arms.  "You bet, you nasty bitch!"

   I raised my hand in a mock slap.  "How dare you talk to me like that!" I
said, but we both knew I was just kidding.

   Karen grasped my hand, pulled herself up to me.  We had a long,
drawn-out, gentle, loving, good morning kiss.  Then Karen jumped up out of
bed, and began undoing the wristbands and harness.  "You can tie me up like
this anytime, Sis."

   "I will," I said.  "Breakfast?" I asked, with the intention of preparing
it.

   "I'll get it.  You stay here.  The usual?"

   I nodded.  She tossed the thong into the bathroom, and without putting
on a stitch of clothing, she bounced out of the room into the kitchen.

   I lay back and rested.  In my entire life, (which had only been eighteen
years, remember,) I had never had so much sex in so little time.  I felt
wonderfully alive, but I also felt a bit drained.  And I was definitely and
without reservation in love with my sister.

   The smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee wafted in from the kitchen. 
Presently, Karen came in, looking rediculously lovely in Mom's "I LIVE FOR
FOOD" apron.  She put the bed tray down on my lap, and joined me in bed. 
"Now eat.  After last night, you need your strength, Sis."

   I laughed.  I reached over and toussled her hair, and she shook my hand
off her head, took it and held it softly against her face.  If I hadn't
been so tired and so hungry, I would've seduced her right then and there. I
settled for letting her feed me a strip of bacon, whereupon I took her hand
and lovingly licked the bacon grease off her fingers.

   After showering together in the opulent tub, Karen dis- appeared into
her room to prepare for the party.  I spent the morning clearing up and
cleaning Mom's bedroom and bathroom.  I put on jeans and a t-shirt, and
went downstairs to rearrange the den and living room.  As I came down the
stairs, I heard the unmistakable whir of the vacuum cleaner.  That Karen
was vacuuming was surprising enough.  I was doubly surprised, then, to see
that the only things she was wearing was the black choker and the leather
ha rness.  I knew she had had the choker, but I hadn't noticed the missing
thong when I'd gathered up my equipment.

   "You are going to catch a cold."

   "Oh, poo, colds don't travel that way.  I'll be fine.  I wanted to be
naked for you."

   "Karen ...  " I was about to be stern but changed my tune.  "Karen, I
adore you for wanting to please me so much, but I'd feel better if you got
dressed.  Besides, if you stay like that, we'll never get anything done."

   "And what's wrong with that?" she said, as she bounced over to me,
hugged me, gave me a peck on the cheek, and then departed up the stairs.

   I picked up the vacuuming where she had left off.  She returned in white
shorts and a short-sleeved, high-necked black leotard.  She was still
wearing the choker.  "Where'd you leave the thong?" I asked.

   "Right here!" she said, smiling, pointing to the line it made under the
leotard.  (She hadn't put a bra on, either.) Ask a silly question ...

   We lived in the outskirts of a small town which had once been a farming
community.  The city was about an hour away, a nice distance for visiting
it and for avoiding it.  Our house had been a farmhouse, but the farm was
long gone.  We first moved in when I was four years old and Karen was just
learning to walk.  The farm had just been sold to a developer, but the
owners had left a very large, wooded plot around their house.  It was that
property Dad had bought.  It was set back from the main road by a fairly
long yard and driveway, and was surrounded by sparse woods on the three
other sides.

   The developers went right to work.  Since the land had been farmed,
there were only occasional trees here and there on the rest of the
property, which made it easy for the developers to put in the sort of
prefab communities which popped up in the fifties, sixties, and seventies.
The center of town was about a mile from our house, and our nearest
neighbor had been half a mile away before the building began.  And by the
time I was ten, we had dozens of neighbors, yet thanks to the foresight of
the farmers, our house still seemed isolated.

   However, by the time I was ten, we were no longer set back quite as far
from the road.  By the time Dad had finished, the front of the house was a
good thirty feet thicker than it had been.  The old living room became a
den, the old "kid's bedroom became Mom's bathroom, and the porch had been
scrapped and replaced by a guest bedroom, a living room, and a bathroom. 
The old farmhouse had had no upper level, so Dad had one added, and it was
big enough that each of us kids had our own bedroom.  In the process , a
basement was added which was an extension of the farmhouse's rather cramped
storm cellar.  The storm cellar was dug out and lined in cement, and turned
into a utility room.  The new basement he finished as a family room.  It
was a big, mostly empty room, with a stairway leading up to the kitchen. 
And behind the house was a new enclosed porch, facing the woods.

   All of this I mention here because it came up while Karen and I were
eating lunch.  Up until now, our major concern was having the party in our
house.  Now the problem was how to get me where I could see them but they
couldn't see me.

   "I know I can see in from the utility room, cause the door has slats,
and that corner of the room is always dark.  I just can't see how I can get
down there.  I mean, I'm supposed to be up in the house, not in the utility
room all night.  And if they thought I was there, it'd put a real damper on
things."

   "And," I added, "If I go down early, then what if the phone rings?  How
am I going to get up there?"

   "Simple," Karen said.  "Use the cordless phone and keep it on the
porch."

   "How does that make it any easier?"

   "You don't know?" Karen looked incredulous at her older sister's sudden
lapse in intelligence.

   "No, I don't," I responded, and I was a bit pissed.

   "Come're." She jumped up and led me out onto the porch.  She pointed to
what looked like floorboards.

   "So?"

   "So look there.  See the hinge?"

   And there it was.  When dad had built the porch deck, he hadn't taken
out the old storm door stairs, he had just covered them up and hinged the
floorboards for access.  In eight years, I'd never noticed.  "How'd you
know about this?" I asked as I pulled the hatch open.

   As we descended the stairs, Karen said, "I'm not sure I should tell you
this, but ..." and she faltered.  We had come to another door, one I had
assumed was boarded or nailed shut.  It wasn't.  It locked from the inside,
ordinarily, but Karen had taken care of that earlier this morning.  She
turned the knob and the door swung open freely, albeit noisily.  "Needs
oil," Karen said as she skipped into the utility room.

   "Hey, not so fast.  How'd you know?"

   Karen blushed.  I almost wished she'd been naked ...  I wondered if she
blushed all over?  "Well, back when I was twelve or thirteen, you had a
party.  Remember the big Christmas party?  For your friends only." I
nodded. Karen continued, "Well, I wanted to see what went on, but Mom and
Dad had sent me off to bed.  Well, see, I snuck out of the house and had
gone around to the porch.  And I heard music.  It was dark, but I noticed
the hinge when I stepped on it.  I couldn't get through that night, cause
the door was locked.  But I knew it could be done."

   "And when, young woman," I asked, staring her down, "Did you get
through?" I had a sneaking suspicion I knew of a very particular time. 
Karen wouldn't say, and she tried to evade the issue by ducking past my arm
and out into the finished room.

   But I grabbed her by her shorts, and got a firm grip on the harness
underneath her leotard.  "Ow!" she cried, and she tried to wrest herself
away.  I pulled her over to the couch, set her down, and let a hard smack
fall on her rear.  I knew it wouldn't hurt her, and I wasn't really mad, it
just seemed to be the right thing to do.

   "Okay, I'll tell you!  Just promise me one thing?"

   "What's that?" I asked, thinking it'd be that I wouldn't be mad at her,
which, of course, at this point, I wouldn't be, anyway.

   "If I tell you, you have to spank me again!" I rolled my eyes to the
ceiling.

   We went back upstairs to finish our lunch, and Karen told me about the
very afternoon I'd been thinking about.  Mom and Dad were out shopping with
Joey, and Karen had been playing in the backyard with Leslie.  I was
sixteen, and my current boyfreind was over and we were cleaning up the
porch.  He started making physical passes towards me and I was willing to
encourage him, and eventually, when we were finished cleaning up, we had
gone inside and down into the basement.  We even locked the basement door
so that Karen and Leslie couldn't see what we were up to.  Bobby and I
started making out on the couch, and from there, Karen saw it all.

   "Well, Leslie said she had to go home, so I went back in and I couldn't
get into the basement.  I heard you and Bobby down there, and I decided
that if you were going to hog the basement, I was going to find out why.  I
guess Dad would have a fit if he knew, but I had left the door unlocked the
last time I'd been thru it.  I used to use it to get to the porch when Mom
and Dad weren't looking."

   "So it was open, and I got down there, being real quiet.  I even left my
shoes on the porch, and lowered the hatch so noone would know if they came
by.  And I could see you on the couch." It was the first time Karen had
seen anything of the sort going on between older teenagers that couldn't be
seen on the streets and in the parks.  Cause Bobby had my blouse open, and
my bra was pushed up over my tits, and he was kissing and sucking on them
until I thought I was going to die.

   "And when I saw you start to suck his cock, geez, Sis, I was going
crazy. My legs were getting so week, I had to kneel down or I'd of fallen
down.  And he was so big, too."

   I was smiling.  I remembered how big Bobby was.  Like nine inches long
and two across.  He was a football player on the high school team, and he
was built solid.  It didn't last long, our relationship, but it was fun
while it lasted.  He wasn't the first boy I'd fucked, and he wasn't the
best, either, but he was in the top two.  And that afternoon had been our
first opportunity ever.

   "I was, what, thirteen?  I didn't think you could get anything that big
in.  I thought he would hurt you, and I almost wanted to run thru the door
and stop him.  And you looked like you were in pain, too."

   Pain?  Well, it hurt for a moment, then it was just pleasure, pleasure,
pleasure.  With a cock like that, he had had to learn to be gentle if he
wanted a second shot with a girl.  Too bad he hadn't learned to be as
gentle with feelings as he was with bodies.

   "So you were watching all that, huh?  I had a feeling you were, but I
chalked it up to thinking Bobby and I were taking a big risk."

   Karen smirked, "You certainly were, Sis.  You could've gotten pregnant."

   I replied, "That was not the risk I was referring to, although you are
quite right.  It was not particullarly smart, I admit.  I sweated that one
out for two very scary weeks." Playfully, I poked her nose gently.  "And
let that be a lesson to you, young lady." Karen wrinkled her nose at me. 
"Now, let's go downstairs and set things up right."

   We dragged mattresses down to the basement, set them around the room,
and made up the beds.  Karen went into the utility room and I moved around
the room for her so that she could see which areas were visible from the
utility room.  I went upstairs to prepare dinner, and Karen went to her
room to put together her bad for the night.

   At one point, she came downstairs, and she was once again buck naked,
save for the choker and the harness.  "Hey, showoff," I yelled, "Put on
some clothes or the whole neighborhood'll be playing Peeping Tom!" For I
had opened the window shades in the living room and kitchen to get some
light.  Karen rocketed up the stairs, although we both knew that noone from
the street could have seen her.  But it was getting close to arrival time
for her friends, and I wasn't supposed to know how intimate they were wit h
each other.  And besides, she'd have to explain the harness ...  and I'd
rather she didn't have to.

   She came back down in a heavy robe.  "Sorry, Sis.  Didn't know the
shades were up.  I was wondering if we could use some of your stuff
tonight."

   "Like what?  From what you tell me, you have ways of tying people up
already."

   "Yeah, but we don't have stuff like the vibrator.  Could we borrow that?
And the paddle?"

   "Let me think about that."

   "OKE!" she said, and then she was gone.

   I came over to the stairs, and yelled up, "And take off that harness! 
NOW!"

   In the end, I let her borrow the vibrator on the condition that it not
be inserted into any human recepticles.  I did not want to be the one to
explain to an angry parent just how thier precious darling got scratched
INSIDE her vagina.  But I said no absolutely to the paddle.  If someone got
hurt, I'd be run out of town.

   The girls started arriving about three, and I sent them one by one up to
Karen's room.  I did some half-hearted studying for finals.  At six, I
called them all down to the dinner table.  I noticed that although the
harness was gone, Karen still wore her choker.  I also noticed that all the
girls were dressed rather strangely for a slumber party.  Each girl had a
lot more clothing on than you'd expect under the circumstances.  For
instance, Karen had a black leotard and tights on, and she was wearing a
bra no w, too.  I had no doubt that she had panties on, too.  Over the
tights were her white shorts, and she had a white tube top pulled over the
leotard.

   Jane was dressed almost identically, except that she wore a skirt
instead of shorts, and a tank top instead of a tube top.  And her tights
and leotard were bright red.  Mary, as usual, had dressed very
conservatively, but overly so.  She not only wore a skirt and blouse, but
had a vest and a cotton cardigan besides.  Leslie was the only one who
seemed to have dressed normally, wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

   They wolfed down the spaghetti and salad, and then they gathered their
stuff and went downstairs.  I pulled Karen aside and warned her once more
about the vibrator.  Then I let her go.

   I went into Mom and Dad's room and turned on the TV.  But I retired to
my room to prepare myself for the evening.  I stripped off my clothes, took
a quick shower to wash off any scent of my cologne, and dressed in a loose
pair of black shorts and a dark blue t-shirt.  I tossed a dark robe over my
arm and went downstairs.  I remained in Mom's room for a while, and
presently, as we had arranged, Karen came up to find me.  "I don't think
we'll get going till about seven thirty or eight.  They're still yakking a
way about school and boys and everything else."

   "And you are not, I suppose?" I asked.

   Karen smiled and said, "Well, of course I am.  I just wanted you to
know."

   "Thanks.  I'll go down around 7:30.  Come up for snacks just before you
think you'll start."

   We conspiritors exchanged a breif hug, and then she was gone again.

   Karen didn't come up by 7:30, so I put on the dark robe, went out the
back door, and slowly, quietly descended the stairs into the dark.  I must
admit, I was scared, dreadfully scared, until I saw the little cracks of
light around the basement door.  I slowly opened it, glad that we had oiled
the joints, and closed and locked it behind me.  With any luck, there'd be
no calls tonight.

   I came close to the door.  And thanked Karen again.  Because just to the
right of the door was a chair, one I didn't remember seeing earlier.  Karen
knew it was going to be a long night.

   I slowly moved the chair into position, straddling it backward so that I
could rest my shoulders on the chairback as I peered thru the slats.  The
girls were still sitting around munching on popcorn and pretzels, talking
about clothes, talking about school, talking a lot about boys.  They sat on
the matresses, sharing stories of thier latest escapades, some tame, some
wild, but all of interest to me.  For these were Karen's contemporaries,
and though only three years separated my sister and me, our lifes tyles had
been quite different.  These girls were much more attuned to the social
norms than I was, and they were much more experienced at dating than I had
been at fifteen.  I listened with rapt attention as Jane described how far
she had "let" her boyfreind go on their last date, and as Leslie described
her boyfriend's and her fascination with thier partner's private parts.

   At one point, Karen loped up the stairs, and then came right back down.
I thought I saw her look my way as she sat down, but I was probably
mistaken.  Within five minutes, Karen held up a deck of cards and said,
"Are we ready, girls?"

   Apparantly they were.  They sat on thier mattresses facing each other.
Karen had taken great pains to set the mattresses up so that when they
played, I'd have a fairly good view of all the participants.  As it was,
Karen I could only see in a three- quarter's view from behind.  As it
turned out, it didn't matter.  I had a good enough view of all the
goings-on.

   The quartet spent about ten minutes reviewing the rules, and I didn't
catch them all, but what I did hear pretty much matched what Karen had
described.  One big argument was over how to tell who lost a hand.  I had
never thought about that before.  When I looked up the rules later, I
realized why they had so much trouble.  The rulebooks only defined who won,
not who lost.  There was no "official" way to determine who had the lowest
scoring hand.  While waiting for them to resolve this problem, I got up and
s tretched.  When I heard the cards being shuffled, I sat back down and
watched.

   Mary was dealing the first hand, and everyone giggled as they considered
their cards, discarded a few, and recieved replacements.  It was all very
straightforward, since there was no betting involved, and therefore no
reason to bluff.  So there wasn't much to be interested in except who won
the chance to remove someone else's clothes.

   Jane was the first winner, and Karen lost her tube top.  The girls had a
real ritual going here.  Jane and Karen stood, and while Karen simply stood
rather limply, Jane reached from behind her and grasped the tube top at the
waist and pulled it over Karen's head.  Then Jane simply let the top drop
on the floor at Karen's feet.  And they sat down to play another hand.  So
it took a while for anything really interesting to happen.  Mary removed
Leslie's socks, and then Mary lost her vest and skirt to Karen an d Jane.
Then, in three straight hands, Jane lost her socks, tank top and skirt,
which left looking like a svelte dancer in her flame red leotard and
tights.

   Leslie supplied the first surprise of the night, because underneath her
plain blue t-shirt was a sexy, lacy pink teddy.  The others oohed and
ahhed, partly at how pretty the teddy looked, but mostly at Leslie's joke
at hiding it under such a plain looking outfit.  Two hands later, her jeans
gone, everyone got to admire just how pretty the teddy was, and how
attractive it looked on Leslie.  But it didn't last long, for on the very
next hand, my sister got to remove it.  Karen took her time doing it, too,
sl owly lowering the straps over Leslie's shoulders.  Then she took it down
very slowly, inch by inch, making Leslie turn a full revolution while the
teddy inched down over to reveal a filmy, lacy black bra and a matching
pair of panties.  Leslie was tall, almost as tall as Karen (who at fifteen
was already five- foot-six,) and just a little bit thinner in the waist,
which made her hips and bosom seem larger, even though the girls were
actually pretty much the same size in those areas.  She was as attractive
as my sister, (even objectively,) but where Karen had a sort of
wall-to-wall smile and a long straight nose, Leslie had a cute upturned
nose sitting over a wide-lipped, sensuous mouth.  And as Leslie turned
dutifully around, the teddy being lowered as she turned, Karen made note of
all her features, including the cute dimples surrounding Leslie's belly
button.  Leslie was blushing when she finally got to sit down.

   Well, Leslie didn't get to rest for long.  Right after Karen undid
Mary's big bow-tie, Leslie lost again.  All eyes (including mine,) were on
Leslie and Mary standing among the growing pile of discarded clothing. 
Mary stood behind Leslie, only to find that the lacy bra hooked in the
front.  Rather than come around front, Mary reached around Leslie's chest
to undo the garment.  Slowly (these girls seemed to have made an artform
out of slowly disrobing thier friends,) Mary slipped the bra straps down
Leslie' s arms, and revealed Leslie's high, rose-tipped breasts.

   But the disrobing wasn't the prime attraction here.  The girls' rules
made losing one's bra an interesting (shall I say, tittilating?)
experience. For after Leslie slowly turned in place two or three times
(with Mary giving a running commentary on the merits and charms of Leslie's
body,) she had to stand in place for two full minutes, during which time
Mary could do anything she wished with Leslie's bosom.  Mary chose to cup
the tits from behind (which, fortunately, meant they both were facing my
hidden vantage point.) She played lovingly with Leslie's small, rosy
nipples, caressing them, pinching them lightly, rolling them between her
fingers.  Leslie was not unaffected.  She moaned and groaned all thru this
escapade, and I could see her hips begin to grind as the two minutes came
to a close.  When Mary let go, Leslie's nipples were hard and stood out in
stark relief from the aireoules.

   And don't think I was unaffected.  This party took place years ago, and
it's easy to write dispassionately about it now.  But when it happened, I
was sitting there in the dark wishing that someone was doing interesting
things to my tits.  And my pussy was already doing some interesting things
for itself.  Like getting quite wet.

   So it was with rapt attention and great expectations that I watched as
Karen lost her black leotard, leaving her and Jane both in only tights and
bras.  Mary, meanwhile was practically fully dressed, which made Leslie's
near-nudity even more apparant.  My heart jumped when Leslie lost the next
hand, and I felt that familiar tingling feeling as Karen got up to remove
the loser's panties.  I didn't doubt for a minute that a loser's pussy
would get the same treatment as her tits.

   Well, Leslie was just full of surprises.  Underneath the black lace
panties was a lacy black g-string, scarcely big enough to cover Leslie's
pubic patch.  Her brown pubic hair poked out around the triangle of fabric.
As Karen sat down, obviously disappointed, Jane asked "Where did you get
that?"

   The answer wasn't terribly exotic.  "At Frederick's, at the mall."
Leslie admitted, when pressed, that she had almost died of embarassment
buying the g-string.  Well, I was glad she had, because now my imagination
was working overtime (as if it needed any furthur stimulation!) I almost
wanted to chew the thing off of her myself.

   But I caught my breath and settled in to watch the results of the next
hand.  Jane lost her tights.  I had to suppress a giggle watching Leslie
try to keep her G-string from falling off while she pulled the tights down
and off Jane's shapely legs.  Now Jane was in just her bra and panties, and
her magnificent form was pretty much on display.  And I mean magnificent.
If you took the best parts of all the other girls, you'd have Jane.  Thru
her filmy white bra, I could see her high, proud, yet heavy breasts t opped
off with large, dark nipples.  Even when she'd been wearing the tights, I
had noticed her slim, well- proportioned legs, and her flat belly and her
attractively rounded, (but not too rounded,) derriere And of course, her
long blond hair which flowed in beautiful waves down past her shoulders. 
Jane was the oldest of the group, almost sixteen, but where the other three
still looked like kids, Jane looked like an adult.  She was only
five-foot-five, but she had great carraige.

   If this sounds like I was incredibly attracted to Jane, you have got it
right.  Just one look at her butt, more wide than round, had me fantasizing
about caressing it, stroking it, spanking it.  Now that I had reconciled
myself to my lesbian tendencies, I was beginning to enjoy it.  And one day,
I promised myself, I would have Jane.  I didn't know how, but I would.

   Well, Mary lost her blouse on the next round, and Karen made a great
show of removing it.  Still, Mary was quite well covered up, till sporting
a halfslip and a camisole.  But without the blouse, it was evident that
Mary was bigger in certain dimensions than I would have guessed, and I
looked forward to having those hidden dimensions exposed.

   Jane lost the next hand, and I was transfixed as Mary undid Jane's bra
from behind.  Mary did me a great favor and had Jane do the same rotations
as Leslie had performed, and with the same carnival spiel about the wonders
of Jane's chest.  And when Mary again reached around from behind to play
with Jane's nipples, I simply could not keep my hand from my pussy.  By the
time Jane's two minutes were up, I was so worked up, I almost fell off the
chair.  Jane seemed shaky as she sat down to play another hand of cards ...
I was trembling, too.

   Mary lost her halfslip, and now her pantyhose-clad legs were exposed. 
Mary was the shortest of the girls, only five-foot- three, with curly blond
hair and a round, almost plain face.  What saved her from being terminally
cute or terribly plain were high cheek bones and her marvelous blue eyes.
They were set perfectly astride a very lovely nose, and they were so big
and so blue that I could see them clearly even from twenty feet away.  She
had come dressed in a matronly fashion, rather stogy for a fifteen year
old, but somehow it fit her to look like that.  That she had dressed in so
much clothing made me think that she didn't care to be naked among her
peers ...  yet she showed no reticence when she removed her friend's
clothing, even less so when she got to fondle their private parts.

   But if Mary had been looking forward to being the first to completely
disrobe someone tonight, she didn't have the luck to pull it off.  For Jane
had three aces, and Leslie didn't even have a single pair, so Jane got to
do the final honors.  Leslie had been sitting in just her g-string for
almost ten minutes now, and she sensed what an anti-climax losing her
panties would be, so when Jane slipped the flimsy thing over her butt,
Leslie struck a stripper's pose, her butt way to the right, her shoulders
way to the left, her arms out to the sides.  Everyone laughed.

   Jane pulled up a chair.  I had expected her to order Leslie to bend over
the chair, but instead, Jane sat down with her legs tight together.  Leslie
was ordred to sit on Jane's lap, her legs straddling Jane's thighs, and her
hands beneath her rump.  Then Jane reached around and began playing with
Leslie's breasts and pussy.  With one hand, she caressed, stroked and
pinched Leslie's left nipple, occasionally reaching far enough around to do
the right breast as well.  With her other hand, Jane dug softly into
Leslie's cunt, meanwhile forcing Leslie's legs wider open by opening her
own legs.

   Leslie was quite appreciative, and so was I.  Hers wasn't the only pussy
being worked on.  My hand was deep into my shorts, my fingers playing with
my own clit, bouncing it back and forth.  As Leslie groaned and moved her
head from side to side, I felt the deep warmth begin to flow thru me.  When
Jane's fingers delved into the vaginal canal, and Leslie began to shudder
and cry out, I almost came, too.  But I caught myself, quieted myself with
deep breaths.  I didn't want to come too much, too soon.  My resol ve
didn't last long.  Jane lost the next hand to Leslie.  Off came the bikini
panties, and now the two were on the chair, their positions reversed.  When
Leslie reached around to cup Jane's big, heavy tits, I thought I was going
to die.  It was almost as if Leslie's hands were my own, as if I was
getting the chance to feel those tits, to feel the warmth of Jane's pussy,
to experience the jelly-like heat and yielding of her sweet insides.  As
Leslie opened her legs, streching Jane's wide open, giving me (and Mary and
Karen, too,) a glimpse of both girls' moist, juicy clefts, I felt my hand
almost involuntarily reach down into my shorts.  When Jane closed her eyes,
it was all I could do to keep mine open, for I felt I was feeling what she
was feeling.  The same excitement and exhilaration, the same crazy spinning
feeling as hot blood rushed thru my head and my pussy and my whole body. 
My hand was Leslie and my pussy was Jane.  With my other arm, still
grasping the chair tightly, I pinched my own nipple thru my t-shirt.

   I was gripping the chair and my pussy and my tit with viselike intensity
when Jane cried out loudly and began to climax in earnest.  Her hips bucked
against Leslie, her legs clamped down to pull Leslie's shut, and she had
pulled her hands free to grab the chair behind her for support.  She
spasmed back and forth, her tits jiggling with jellylike rhythms, and the
whole sight and sound and experience sent me over the edge.  I clenched my
teeth and held my breath as the shock wave broke over me, and I shiver ed
so hard that I feared I would fall off the chair if I didn't hold on tight
as I could.

   When it was over, there were tears in my eyes from the intensity of the
orgasm.  It had been one of the most intense of my life, mainly because I
had to fight so hard to keep from being discovered.  I was grateful for the
release, grateful to my sister for allowing me this opportunity.  But I was
also in pain from hanging on so tight.

   When I finally looked up, Mary was removing Karen's black tights.  On
the next hand, Karen lost again, and Mary again won the right to relieve
the loser of her bra.  Karen was subjected to the same routine of
displaying herself while Mary game an extended exposition of her bosomy
charms.  And then Karen was subjected to Mary's probings of her tits.  As
Mary began to weigh Karen's tits in her hands.  Karen winked.  I think the
others thought it was for them, but I knew ...

   When the next hand was played, Leslie relieved Mary of her pantihose. 
Another hand, and Karen lost her final garment to Mary.  Mary took her time
lowering Karen's panties, and she made Leslie do the turning
round-and-round routine.  There was no spiel this time, instead Mary saved
it for the moment when my sister was perched on Mary's ample thighs.  As
she made Karen's legs spread wide and wider still, Mary pointed out Karen's
vaginal assets, the pouty inner lips, the distened clit, the lush pinkness
of K aren's innards.

   This excited Karen, I could tell, for she fed on the "humiliation" of
the moment, of being put on exhibition.  I could smell her excitedness from
my hiding place.  Karen was "hot to trot." When Mary finally began
fingering Karen, Karen was almost instantly orgasmic.  And I sensed that
Mary was getting off on this as well, and as Karen began to build towards a
second, more intense climax, it became evident that Mary was losing her
composure, too.  Karen began to writhe hard against Mary's chest.  In
response , Mary arched forward to heighten the effect.  Her big blue eyes
closed tightly, and her breathing became as ragged as Karen's.  Then they
both cried out, Karen first, Mary following a few seconds later.  And sat
gasping for breath as they both came down from their high.

   Nor was any of this lost on Leslie or Jane.  They were both sitting
naked, and while I could not see clearly where their hands were, I
suspected that they had been playing with themselves thru this particular
display.  Had I not just had such a wrenching climax, I might have done the
same.  As it was, I was simply filled with adoration for the marvelous
non-virgin who sat with her legs still spread wide apart around her
friend's legs, and who, even as she gasped harshly for breath, looked up
and smiled at me.

   Resolutely, the girls continued the card game.  The cards worked in
favor of speeding up the game, for Mary lost three times in a row.  Leslie
got to remove the halfslip, and she did not hesitate to make Mary's
bra-clad tits bounce in the process.  Jane removed Mary's bra, and now Mary
got tit for tat (so to speak.) Jane had Mary stand there with her arms out
to the sides, which brought Mary's big white tits to attention.  Though
Mary's big, rosy nipples weren't as dark as any of the others, they stood
out in stark contrast to her bone white skin.  When her arms were down, her
nipples pointed outward and slightly to the sides; with her arms up, they
pointed upward but still outwards.

   When Jane got behind Mary, she reached under Mary's arms to cup Mary's
tits.  Mary's tits may have been big, but they were still firm.  They held
thier shape while Jane played with them, and Jane seemed to take delight in
bobbling them in her hands.  This Mary found more painful than pleasurable,
and she looked relieved when Jane moved on to play with the nipples.  The
centers got hard fast, and even from the distance I sat I could see the
centers actually distend and harden between Jane's fingers.  I noted that
Jane seemed less enthused about dallying with Mary's tits than she had
about fingering Leslie's cunt.  And Mary, for her part, seemed less than
enthused about being fondled.

   So I was prepared to be somewhat bored on the next hand, when Karen won
the right to relieve Mary of her final piece of clothing.  Mary stood in
the center of the pile of clothing, and seemed nervous as Karen pulled down
her waist-high panties.  Mary was not fat, she was chunky, I noted, simply
built wide and round.  She did, indeed, narrow at the waist, and her belly
was almost, but not quite, flat.  But she was built round, with melonlike
breasts and matching rump.  When she sat down on Karen's lap, legs astride
Karen's, she looked positively massive.

   Karen wasted no time in spreading both Mary's legs and labia.  Mary's
pubic hair was so sparse that her cunt looked almost childlike, making me
think of chubby round babies.  Karen began with slow strokes along the
insides of Mary's thighs, which seemed more to Mary's tastes than having
her tits fondled.  Soon Karen was teasing Mary's clit, but Mary was still
not responding as the other girls had.  Mary allowed Karen to do anything
she wished, but apparantly Mary wasn't going to let herself go.

   I saw Karen's face spark, and she motioned to Jane to pick up her
nightcase.  Jane opened it up and held up some items one by one and Karen
shook her head at each one until the vibrator was brought out.  (Among the
items in there were some of the leather thongs.  I wondered what else Karen
had spirited out of my closet.) Mary had her eyes closed, didn't see the
ten-inch, penis shaped intrument.  It was as if she was trying to block out
the fact that others were watching.

   Jane handed the vibrator to Karen.  Karen switched it on and placed the
instrument on Mary's nipple.  Mary's eyes opened wide, aghast at the feel
of the supple plastic against her breast.  Then Karen began drawing it down
to Mary's pubes, running it along her thighs, along the sides of the
vagina, then parting the lips slightly with it.  Mary had again closed her
eyes, and this time her tongue was licking her lips.  Karen had found the
right instrument to take Mary over the edge.  I hoped she hadn't forgotte n
my prohibition against insertion as I watched her move the tickler up and
down along Mary's wide open cleft.

   And suddenly Mary seemed to catch fire.  As Karen brought the vibrator
to bear on Mary's clit, Mary started to writhe, to moan, to shake.  Her big
tits jiggled with a life of thier own.  There were satisfied smiles on
Jane's and Leslie's faces as Mary began to respond wildly to the effects of
the vibrator.  She cried out when the climax hit her, her big blue eyes
opening, then closing again as she shook and thrusted and shook again.  A
sudden spasm took her, and then she was relaxed again, save for a slight
quake as she caught her breath.  It was only then that I noticed my sister
kissing Mary's neck and ears, whispering things to Mary which I could not
quite hear.  And Mary was smiling.  Not a lot, but a definite smile.

   There was sudden applause from Jane and Leslie, who stood up and came
forward to embrace Mary.  I did not realize until later that I had
witnessed an auspicious occasion: Mary's first orgasm.  Not just her first
at a party, her first ever, anywhere, anytime.  When Jane and Leslie lifted
her off Karen, Karen had as dumb a smile on her face as I'd ever seen. 
Sort of like the cat who had eaten the canary.

   Jane and Leslie gently lowered Mary onto a matress, and gently began
kissing her neck and ears.  (There seemed to be some sort of prohibition
against kissing on the lips, especially open mouthed kissing.  Karen later
said that some of the girls felt that was just too close to being a
lesbian. When she told me that, I simply looked skyward and laughed.)
Apparantly the occasion warranted some celebration, and Mary's attitude
seemed to have taken a complete turnabout.  When Karen climbed between her
legs and began applying fingers and vibrator in liberal dollaps to Mary's
cunt, Mary responded avidly.  When Jane and Leslie began fondling her tits,
Mary pulled thier heads to her chest as if to welcome them.

   I suppose it sounds as if I wouldn't have been surprised by anything
that happenned that night, but I wasn't that jaded yet.  I was a bit
surprised, for example, when Jane began licking and kissing and sucking on
Mary's tits, even more so when Leslie offered her chest to Mary's mouth and
Mary accepted it.  But Karen didn't go so far with Mary's cunt.  She
settled for the insertion of two of her fingers, which Mary handled with no
complaint.  Karen set up a slow rhythm of penetration and withdrawal,
remaini ng at a steady pace until Mary's hips began to move in tandem.  It
was hard to see any of Mary, but I could certainly see the general effects,
and I was getting rather hot myself.  Watching Mary's great hips as their
thrusts increased in intensity and tempo, I found my own hips grinding into
the chair, my legs splayed so that the rim of the chair was rubbing against
my clit.  I was aware of Karen's fingers disappearing into Mary's cunt not
so much by the vision as by the tremendous view of Mary's hips risi ng from
the matress to meet my sister's digits.  Suddenly, (orgasm always happens
suddenly,) Mary was crying out, and Leslie was kissing Mary's neck and
stroking her hair.  Jane continued to suck on Mary's nipples, and Karen
continued applying the vibrator to Mary's welcoming clit.  Then Mary was
actually screaming, her hands hard against Jane's head and Leslie's hands.
And then the spasms hit, and she lurched forward, lurched back, and I found
myself joining her, again expending the enourmous energy it t ook to hold
in my cries of release.  For twenty or thirty seconds, I felt my body go
thru spasm after spasm, and I hung on tight to the chair lest I fall.

   When I opened my eyes again, Jane and Leslie were drawn full length
against Mary's sides.  Karen was still sitting between Mary's legs, and she
was stroking them fondly with one hand.  With an incredible pixieish leer
on her face, she licked her fingers wantonly, drinking deep of the taste of
Mary's hot vaginal juices.

   The call of nature hit me then, and I quietly left thru the storm door.
When I returned, the girls were again playing cards, now for the very
biggest stakes of the night.  Each winner won the right to be dressed by
the loser, and the loser had to be one of the naked girls.  The last girl
left naked was then the "big loser," and was at the mercy of the others for
the rest of the night.  At least, that was what Karen had told me.

   Well, it was that and more.  The pile of clothes had been pushed aside
and four nightgowns sat in a pile in the center of the ring of mattresses.
The game went on for a while, for now the rules for winning and losing were
different.  The winner had to have at least three of a kind, the loser had
to have not even one pair, and the other two girls had to have at least one
pair.  So they got to sit around naked for quite a while.  It was ten
minutes before Mary won with three Queens (appropriatte, I thought,) and
Karen lost.

   The ritual I had expected was still many minutes away.  The rules had
changed quite a bit, I found.  For Mary ordered Karen onto her knees, and
Mary sat on a chair, with her legs spread wide.  Karen was told to put her
hands behind her back and clasp her hands, and walk on her knees over to
where Mary sat.  These directions, mind you, came not from Mary, but from
Jane and Leslie.  That was what made this part of their game so different
from its beginnings.  Neither the winner or the loser knew what they woul d
be ordered to do.

   When Karen reached Mary, Leslie said, "Now kiss Mary's thighs." Karen
began doing this, and Jane said, "Mary, play with your breasts." Mary and
Karen enthusiastically followed thier orders, and I think Mary might have
climaxed had she not been so thoroughly satisfied already.  When about
three or four minutes had passed, Karen was ordered to turn around, spread
her knees and bend over.  Mary was handed the vibrator and ordered to apply
it to Karen's cunt, which sent Karen almost instantly into orgasm.

   When Jane and Leslie had decided that Karen had had enough, my sister
was ordered to retrieve Mary's nightgown.  Mary was asked to stand up, and
Karen was handed a powder puff.  After applying the puff to almost every
inch of Mary's body from the neck down, Karen was allowed to dress Mary in
the nightgown.  The three naked girls sat down to play the next round of
cards.  Mary sat watching, rather near Karen, I noticed.  They had to play
five hands before the cards fell acceptably.  Leslie came up the "winne r,"
and my sister was again the "loser."

   Mary and Jane conferred, which looked rather ridiculous, Jane being
naked and Mary covered to her toes by her nightgown.  Jane retrieved her
nightcase, which was one of those soft, long nylon bags, and brought out
something I had only seen in magazines.  I stared in wonderment as Jane
held up a two foot long double dildo.

   Karen asked "Where did you get that?" A question that was on my mind,
too, I might add.  Jane said she found it while rummaging around in her
attic.  When pressed, she admitted to using it for solo excitement.  But I
felt her explanation rather lame, and thought that perhaps there were
secrets Jane had been keeping from her friends.  Secrets which made her all
the more desireable to me.

   Jane's orders to Karen and Leslie were simple and direct.  She coated
the dildo with jelly (medicinal variety, thank you,) and handed it to
Leslie saying, "As the saying goes, girls, go fuck yourselves!" Leslie and
Karen both rolled thier eyes at Jane's coyness, but in seconds, they were
down on the mattress caressing each other's tits and cunts, preparing each
other for the insertion.

   When they both felt ready, they went through a clumsy bit of
positioning, for the dildo was not terribly flexible.  After a few minutes
of frustration and bemusement, Karen grabbed the middle of the dildo and
slowly forced it into her moist and willing cunt.  Bending forward
slightly, Karen held the other end pointing upwards so that Leslie could
lower herself onto the instrument.  Leslie was very tentative about the
penetration, uncomfortable with the squatting position it was leaving her
in.  But when he r rump hit the mattress, she found she could stretch her
legs, and she lay them over Karen's.  Karen began playing with her own
clit, and Leslie took the cue.

   Soon thier hips were moving, writhing, thrusting.  Karen was very into
it, it seemed, more so than Leslie, and I could see her belly muscles
flexing, aiding her vaginal muscles in working the dildo into the familiar
in-and-out motion.  Leslie picked up the rhythm and soon the girls were
moaning and groaning.  Leslie, particullarly, was particullarly vocal,
saying "Oh, it feels so good, Karen," and "Harder, Harder, harder!" Karen
was more into the feel of the event, but Leslie's utterances only
hieghtened her excitement.  Jane sat there watching with an adoring smile
on her face; Mary simply looked on in stunned wonderment.

   Then Karen grabbed at the mattress beneath her and began to shudder hard
and fast, her cries coming in short, shrill gasps.  Her vaginal muscles
clenching and releasing caused the dildo to move in rapid piston motion. 
The sudden change in tempo and intensity had its effect on Leslie's body,
and suddenly she, too, was grasping at the mattress and rocking in noisy
orgassm.  When it was over, they lay panting, and they reached out to hold
each other's hands.  But neither made a move to remove themselves from the
impaling device.

   After a minute went by, Jane suggested that they get on with the game.
Leslie didn't want to get up, so Karen let Leslie lay on the mattress while
she powdered and gowned her.

   Now the final hand.  Karen and Jane, sitting crosslegged at the ends of
one mattress, faced each other as they dealt the cards.  Mary and Leslie
watched avidly from the sidelines.  Karen, as the previous loser, dealt the
cards, and she took her time.  Jane threw two cards, Karen three, and Karen
ended up with three deuces to Jane's two kings.  Jane was the night's "big"
loser.

   For the moment, however, Mary and Leslie were calling the shots.  Having
been invaded by the two-headed monster already, Leslie was not averse to
suggesting it for the next escapade.  This time, however, the naked girls
were called upon to do a sixty-nine until Leslie judged that they were good
and ready.  She ordered Jane to bend over on hands and knees on one
mattress, and ordered Karen to do the same.  "And spread your legs, girls!"
Leslie added.  Then she directed Mary to turn Karen's mattress until Kar
en's upturned rump and wide spread asscheeks faced Jane's equally exposed
derriere.  Leslie pushed Jane's mattress so that it abutted the wall, then
had Mary move to the far end of Karen's mattress.  Leslie spread jelly on
the dildo's ends, and stood between the two naked rumps.

   On signal, Mary began to push Karen's mattress slowly towards Jane,
until the tips of the dildo just brushed against each girls's love tunnel.
Slowly, Leslie worked the dildo into Jane's cunt, until two inches of it
had dissappeared.  Then Mary pushed Karen closer, and Leslie worked the
ramrod an inch or so into my sister's cleft.  Mary kept pushing slowly. 
When the two mattresses met, Leslie had placed at least six inches of each
end into Jane and Leslie's bodies.  The effect of this was not lost on eith
er girl, and Leslie heightened the sensations by grabbing the phallus and
rotating it side to side.  Soon Karen was again thrusting her hips back and
forth, and I could see her belly quivering.  And the sight of both girls'
ample breasts swinging back and forth beneath them in eccentric rhythm. 
Most exciting, though, was the total obeisance of thier poses.  It ignited
real fire in me, and concrete plans as well.  I wondered whether Jane would
enjoy being Karen's sister in slavery.

   Once the two girls got going, Leslie and Mary sat back to watch, with
the additional order that Karen and Jane each do whatever they needed to do
to reach a climax.  Karen reached back with one hand and massaged her clit,
occasionally reaching to grab at the dildo and work it further in and out.
This gave additional stimulation to both girls, and it was all Jane needed
to send her quickly over the edge.  When orgasm hit, Jane cried out,
arching her back and raising her arms off the ground.  Her tits swung
crazily back and forth as she bucked against both the driving rod and her
own body's convulsions.  Karen took only a minute longer to hit climax, and
the two young women fell to their mattresses with a shudder and a sigh. 
Despite the fall, they remained connected by the long, thick, double-headed
invader.

   And I came, too.  The sight of Karen, who I loved, and Jane, who I
coveted, sent me over the edge.  I was rubbing my clit hard against my
palm, and drove two fingers deep into my own canal.  Again, for the third
time, I had to hold my breath and still my cries for fear of being heard.
When I regained some semblance of control, my face was wet with the tears
and sweat of my strain.  When I finally looked out, Karen was in her
nightgown.  Like Leslie's, it was rather flimsy but not transparent, and it
reache d just far enough down not to be indecent ...  in most
circumstances. Jane was sitting curled up on her mattress, still naked, her
legs drawn up to her chest, a sweet smile of satiation on her face.  The
three others were determining what Jane would have to do as the "big"
loser. After the three had conferred a while, Karen was sent to get her
bag, and she drew from it the leather thongs I had seen Jane hold up
earlier.  Karen was learning her lessons, all right.  I knew exactly what
she had in mind.

   Karen had Jane stand up, and made her spread her legs.  As I had done
the night before, Karen tied a thin strand of leather around Jane's waist,
then tied the thicker strand to the waistband at Jane's back, and drew the
thong thru Jane's legs.  Then she looped it around Jane's neck, and tied a
knot so that it made a long, unthreatening loop around Jane's neck.  "Let
me show you how this works," Karen announced to the other two girls.  She
grabbed at the thong where it passed between Jane's breasts, and mov ed it
side to side, pulling it taut so that it moved Jane's clit and outer lips
side to side.  This motion made Jane twitch at first, but soon it began to
excite her, especially when Mary and Leslie were invited to come up and
play with Jane's tits.  Karen moved behind Jane to give the other girls
some room, and soon Jane was coming once again.  They had her raise her
arms over Karen's and Leslie's necks so they could support her when her
legs gave out.  When her orgasm was fully over, they sat her in the c hair
and read her the rules of her servitude.

   It was Mary who delivered the decree.  "You will remain naked all night,
save for the harness we have placed you in.  You will serve us all as we
decide, no matter what we ask you to do.  If we send you upstairs you may
wear a robe, but you may not tie it shut.  If Karen's sister sees you, you
may hold it shut.  You must do anything we ask, but you retain a right of
appeal.  If you refuse to perform some task, and if the one who asks is
willing to perform that task, you must then perform it too.  If she refus
es, you are relieved of that task.  If she was the object of that task, and
you appeal, that task will be performed on you.  You may not refuse anyone
from touching you in any manner they choose."

   Jane nodded in acquiesence.  None of this was new to her, (and after her
fling with the double dildo, I figured there was nothing to be done that
night which she would object to.) She was invited back down onto the
mattresses, where they allowed her to draw a sheet over her shoulders.  And
then they went back to talking about boys and schools and girls and makeup
and clothes and movies.  After a while, they put a film (some horror
thing,) into the VCR and pretended to watch it while they continued talking
Jane was just as animated and involved in the conversation as were the
others, which was understandable among these four.  It was more an honor
than a curse to be the "big" loser in this crowd.  Occasionally, one of the
girls would reach out and cushion Jane's breast with her hand, or pat her
on the rump, or pull lightly on the harness.

   Ten minutes into the movie, I decided I needed a rest.  My back and neck
were tired simply from watching the proceedings, so I got up, streched, and
ambled up thru the storm door and back up to my parents' bedroom.

   For almost two hours, I could still hear the raucous sounds of the girls
talking and laughing.  Shortly after eleven thirty, though, there was a
period of silence.  I pulled my robe on and made my way back to the porch.
Quietly letting myself into the utility room, I moved to my chair.  The
lights were still on.  Jane was seated on a mattress, her hands tied behind
her with a leather thong.  Her arms had thongs tied about them just below
the shoulders, and those thongs were tied to the legs of the chair.  T he
chair also straddled her legs so that she was effectively pinned to the
ground and the chair.

   One by one, the other girls took turns sitting in the chair, draping
thier legs over Jane's back and presenting thier wide open pussies for
servicing.  Jane gave each one a thourough tonguing, and even Mary, (who
didn't climax this time,) seemed to have enjoyed the experience.  Karen, as
you might imagine, went simply wild with ecstacy.

   When each girl had taken a turn, they untied Jane's arms and made her
bend so that her chest lay flat on the chair seat.  They made her reach
around the chair legs with her arms and tied her hands to the legs of the
chair.  They made Jane straddle the chair with her legs as best she could,
and then bound her legs to the chair with the ties from Jane's own robe. 
Karen, as you might imagine, was the director of this caper, having learned
her lessons by being on the other end of the rope, so to speak.  I was
filled with admiration for my sister, and delighted in the sight of Jane,
whom I also lusted after, so helplessly bound up.

   Karen handed Mary the vibrator, and Leslie greased up the dildo.  Mary
lay on the floor looking up at Jane's raised and vulnerable butt, and began
applying the vibrator to Jane's pussy.  Then Leslie kneeled to one side of
the chair, and began to slowly inch the dildo into Jane's moist, inviting
cleft.  And Karen stood to the other side, simply watching the goings on. I
wondered if she was content simply to observe and direct.  I couldn't quite
picture her that way.

   As it turned out, she was simply waiting for the proper moment.  When
Jane began to respond with animated rapture, Karen raised her palm slightly
and gave Jane's but a good, solid swat.

   Jane screamed, raising her head to cry out.  Mary and Leslie continued
their activities as if nothing had happened, (although Leslie quickly
changed her position to get out of Karen's swatting range.) Karen reached
down and caressed both of Jane's spread, flattened cheeks.

   Then she delivered another swat, then another, alternating from right to
left rump, until ten swats had been delivered.  Jane's response was
incredible.  She seemed to stiffen against Karen's blows, and fought at her
bonds.  But when Karen stopped, Jane went wild, bucking her hips against
the instrument being ramrodded in and out of her now dripping cunt.  Both
Mary and Leslie held to their tasks, while Karen moved to Jane's side and
began kissing and caressing Jane's neck, shoulders, and back.  Jane came
with a wrenching cry, a shuddering spasm.  The chair shook beneath her, and
Leslie felt the dildo being pulled from her hand by the force of Jane's
vaginal muscles.  Then Jane shuddered again, and with a reverse thrust, the
dildo went flying from her body.  But Mary held the vibrator to Jane's
clit, and Jane found her orgasm extended into a long, drawnout series of
body wrenching, enervating climaxes.  When Mary finally removed the
vibrator, Jane simply collapsed in exhaustion.

   Then they untied poor Jane and let her lay on her mattress to rest.

   Needless to say, I was getting pretty close to exhaustion myself.  I was
too tired to climax while watching this scene, but it was not for lack of
trying.  Even after Jane was untied, I was standing there in the dark
corners, thinking about what I had seen and trying desperately to bring
myself off.  The strain of having to be quiet while doing this made it
almost impossible to succeed.  After about ten minutes or so, I gave up.

   I straggled to my feet and stretched my tired muscles.  I ached to be
alone (or with Karen,) and be able to come as exposively as I wished, so I
left the utility room and locked the storm door behind me.  I came off the
porch into the kitchen, where, earlier in the evening, I had drawn the
shades.  I was stripping off the robe as I crossed the kitchen.  Without
thinking, by the time I reached the hallway, I had pulled my t- shirt off
as well.  I was out of my shorts by the time I reached the stairs, and I w
ent straight to the bathroom to answer nature's call.

   I was on my way to my room when I decided I wanted something to drink.
Without thinking, I tossed the robe over my shoulders and ran downstairs. I
approached the door to the kitchen, the robe covering nothing as it blew
back behind me.

   And there, wearing a robe covering as little as possible, was Jane,
standing at the refrigerator.  Her hands were full with soda and cookies,
there was no way she could hold the robe closed.  The harness formed its
ANKH shape against her fair skin, and her beautiful breasts held the robe
wide apart.  She had a look in her eyes akin to a deer caught in an
oncoming car's headlights ...  one part fear, one part amazement.  I
realized that I was as naked as she, and that some of her gaze was
fascination at that fact as well.

   And there was something else in her gaze, too.  When it became evident
that I was not angry or upset or in any way judgemental, the fear in her
gaze slowly dissipated, to be replaced by something else.  I was pleased to
see it in her eyes, and pleasantly surprised, too.  For it was just what I
had been feeling for her, too, as I had watched her being disrobed, watched
her being fingered to orgasm, watched her being impaled by that wondrous
dildo.

   Desire and lust.

   I held a finger up to my lips.  Almost imperceptibly, Jane nodded.  I
moved toward her, and she remained stock still.  I took the soda and the
cookies from her, placed them on the counter beside us.  Somehow she knew I
wished her to be still.  I quietly pushed the basement door shut, and moved
ever closer to her.

   I felt like a vampire as I moved slowly towards Jane, for she stood
there as if transfixed by some unseen force.  As I approached her, she
dipped her head to offer me her neck, almost as if she instinctively knew
what I was feeling.  As if to seal the bargain, I opened my mouth wide as I
kissed her on the neck, forcing my teeth to her skin.  Not enough to leave
marks, but enough that she would feel the hardness.  Her body was hot
beneath me, and I longed to take her in my arms and carry her to my
parents' bed.  Instead I withdrew from her, but held her gaze as she lifted
her head.

   Continuing the vampire metaphor, I pulled my black robe capelike across
my face.  "You will come to me in the darkness," I said, in my most
commanding quiet tone.  I backed away from her, then turned at the door and
dissappeared into the darkness of my parents' room.

   Moments later I heard Jane's footsteps descending the basement stairs. I
lay down on Mom's bed and fell straight to sleep.

   "I come to you, mistress," came the voice in my dream.  I became aware
of Jane standing at the side of my bed, arms limp at her sides, wearing her
robe and harness.  I groaned.

   "I am yours," Jane said, and I realized then that I was not dreaming. 
Jane was actually standing there.  The only light in the room streamed in
from the kitchen, and its reflection in the mirror struck Jane's side,
outlining her breasts in relief as they hung out from the open robe.  She
held her arms out, her palms forward, offering herself to me.  She
shrugged, and the robe fell to the floor.

   I was amazed at my good fortune, but too groggy as yet to do anything
about it.  Jane seemed to sense that too, and she simply stood there
waiting in her offering posture, smiling down at me angelicly.

   I slowly got to my feet.  From both of us rose the musky odor of our sex
and of our evening's sexuality.  I had the most certain feeling that Jane
knew I'd been spying on her (and her friends,) this evening.  I didn't know
how she might have known, but I was beginning to think there was something
almost super- natural at work here.

   As I stood, Jane's eyes followed mine, not challengingly, no, simply
keeping our mutual gaze intact.  I raised my arms, again taking the vampire
pose, my black robe draped over my arm outstretched towards her.  Jane came
towards me, slowly, the beatific smile never fading, her eyes meeting mine
but with a downcast look about them, as if announcing that she understood
her subservience to me.  When she came within my arm's grasp, I pulled her
to me, and our mouths met and our tongues entwined, and I felt he r nipples
hard against the soft flesh of my breasts.  A thrill the likes of which I
had never experienced before shot thru me, as if to confirm for me forever
that I would never, ever again be fully satisfied by a man.

   I grabbed Jane by the harness at her waist behind her back, and she
gasped as the taut leather cut into her tender cleft.  Never breaking the
kiss, I lowered us both to the bed, and we intertwined our legs so close
that our the hair of our pubes intertwined.  "I am yours forever," Jane
said to me, and at that moment, I was prepared to believe her.  Though I
knew I would dominate her as I dominated Karen, in fact, dominate Jane more
thoroughly than I had every dreamed of with Karen, I also felt that, in a
way, I was hers forever, as well.

   Then we were kissing again, and working our thighs back and forth
against each others' moist privates, until both of us gasped, each
unwilling to make a sound, as the wash of orgasm spilled over us.  We lay
there clinging to each other with such intensity that I was sure we had
left marks in each others' skin.

   I don't think either of us wanted to let go, but at some point we both
realized that Jane must return to the basement, lest she be missed.  We
stood, and I asked her to place my robe over my shoulders.  Then I asked
her to pick up her robe.

   I looked her straight in the eye.  "On your knees," I whispered.  Jane
quickly sank to her knees before me.  "Kiss me there!" I ordered.  Jane
leaned forward and gently kissed my pussy.  "Now rise." She did.

   "You are mine, Jane.  For better or for worse, you are bound to me.  Do
you understand?"

   She nodded.

   "Then go now.  Tomorrow we will talk.  Lower your head." She did, and I
gently kissed her once on the forehead, once on the very crown of her head,
once at the very bottom of her skull towards the base of the neck.  As a
final gesture, I kissed her neck, my mouth open, much as I had done earlier
in the evening.  I sucked hard, knowing that I would leave a mark on her
fair skin.

   My mark.

   "Now go."

   She slipped into her robe, and moved slowly towards the door.  She
turned around and smiled angelically.  "I love you," she said.

   I smiled back.  "And I you.  Now go."

   Jane left, closing the door behind her.  I heard her footsteps padding
softly down the basement stairs.  Then all was silent and I slept.

   Comments to: victoria an462542@anon.penet.fi

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