From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Sisters Learn A Lot (FF, lesbian, femdom, spank)
Date: 13 Jul 1996 22:20:21 GMT

		  Sisters Learn Spanking Can Be Hot

	Ok, get this. I'm bi. It makes it easier in this business.
There's a good supply of male clients 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 mischievous, 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 appropriate. 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 as 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.
Apparently, Mom's lecture hit home, somewhat, because Karen never
struck Joey again, not for their 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 spank 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 further 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
flabbergasted 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. So 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 involving 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, blindfolded, 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 Karen, 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 tell
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 sandwich 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 peignoir, 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 eclipsed 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 believe 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 nipple,
resting them against her rockhard areole. 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
flattened just a bit, which made them more vulnerable. It also gave me
a glimpse of her cunt, which I appreciated, 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, suggested 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 ecstasy.

	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 achieve orgasm yet. She was crying out
my name in erotic agony when I stopped.

	I was beginning to get quite hot myself, and I was determined
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 nose. 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
reached 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 caressed 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 passion 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 delving 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 tongues 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 pressure 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
she 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 tongue 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 was 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.

	Karen 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.