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 maki
ng 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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