textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/siskar01.txt

Archive-name: Family/siskar01.txt
Archive-author: Black Knight
Archive-title: 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 women for my services, and an even
better supply of women.  A lot of my clients are high power
people, people who spend a lot of their day controlling other
people.  Then they come to me, and I do the controlling.  And
while I enjoy dominating a man, I treasure dominating a woman. 
So I don't charge them as much.  It's still hard work.  Dreaming
up scenarios, and making sure you know how much your client can
endure takes energy and imagination.  It's damned hard work.
      Still, I get off on it.  No, I didn't torture cats as a
child.  I simply found out that I enjoyed spanking people, and
there were people around who liked to be spanked.  It just grew
from there, and for that I have my sister Karen to thank.
     I guess it started when I was put in charge of my little
brother and sister.  Mom and Dad both started working evenings
when I was fifteen, and I was put in charge until 10 p.m. So if I
caught Karen or Joey being naughty, I spanked them.   
      A spanking was very simple then.  Karen was twelve and Joey
was only eight, and they tended to fight like the dickens.  If
they were just being mischevous, I tended to let things slide
just as Mom would.  But if they broke something, or one of them
hit the other, the offending party got spanked.  I simply led
them into my bedroom, explained what I was going to do and why,
had them remove outer garments, and spanked them on their bottoms
thru their underwear.  Then I sent them off with a loving
admonishment.  I never had to spank either one of them more than
once or twice a month. 
      Until I was seventeen and a senior in high school.  One
night, while I was studying, I heard Joey scream, and there was
Karen, looking smug, while Joey grimaced and said she had hit
him.  When I asked, she confirmed it.  I marched her into my
bedroom, delivered the ten smacks I considered appropriatte.  She
didn't seem at all concerned during my "lecture," which made me a
bit angry.  So I think I spanked her a little bit harder than
usual.  She marched merrily away when I was finished, pulling her
jeans up as she walked.   
      And then the next night, she did the same thing.  Out of
nowhere, she slapped Joey.  And I spanked her again.  Two nights
later, the same act.  I spanked her, but I spoke to Mom about it,
too.  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 spank her too much.  Or maybe, as I can see from
this end of things, maybe I was afraid that I was enjoying it too
much. 
      Well, one night Karen walked up to the table, and without
saying a word, spilled cola on my homework.  No accident, this
was absolutely predetermined, and designed to piss me off.  Well,
one week of her pranks, refusals, and just plain nastiness had me
pretty angry with her, so I ordered her into my room.  I
dispensed with the lecture, announced that tonight I I was going
to spank her until her bare bottom was red.  "Bare?" she asked. 
      "Yes, bare!"  And without 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.  So was Karen.  She was moaning.  Even though I had
stopped, she was wriggling her bottom as if begging for more, as
if I was still delivering blow after blow. 
      So I did.  I pulled her panties not just down but
practically off, down to just above the knees so she couldn't
kick her legs, and I proceeded to give her ten on the right butt,
then ten on the left butt, then another ten right, another ten
left, until I felt myself shudder in a small but potent orgasm. 
I grabbed Karen tight lest she fall, and she did this amazing
thing which at once shocked and pleased me.  She turned and
grabbed me around the waist, and reached up to hug me tightly. 
She forced her legs around my knee and in a few seconds, she too
was having an orgasm.  Then we lay together on the bed, breathing
heavily, sighing, embracing. 
      Then, after I somehow dragged myself up and started Joey on
the road to bed, Karen and I talked.  Karen, it turns out, had
been "enjoying" the spankings for a long time, almost a year. 
She would leave my bedroom for her own, pull off her panties and
rub her bruised skin and moist pussy until she came.  "I wanted
you to spank me.  I wanted it so bad ... so I acted as bad as I
knew how."  As she said this, she put her arms around me, nuzzled
my neck.  It was at once comforting and unnerving.   
      She was a sweet kid, if mischievous.  And precocious.  She
was obviously more comfortable with her sexuality than I would
have been at her age.  Good enough in school, popular with a
great many of her schoolmates, she was quite a bit unlike me.  I
had been more of a loner, an intense studier.  Teachers respected
me for my work;  they respected Karen for her personality. 
      And Karen was also one thing I was not ... Karen was very,
very pretty.  Oh, she was still a kid, really.  She was fourteen
and a half, and going thru all those female body changes.  Her
hips were still slender, but her tits were round with high,
proud, rosy nipples.  Her hair was long, straight, and black, and
it sort of naturally stood off her face.  Parts of Karen still
looked twelve, other parts of Karen looked sixteen.  But all
parts of Karen looked good. 
      I had had no inkling that I might enjoy a lesbian
encounter, and would never have thought of anything involving my
own kid sister.  And yet ... I couldn't deny that I'd enjoyed
spanking her.  Or deny that I'd enjoyed her reaction.  Or deny
that I was enjoying having her arms around my waist, her head
resting on my breasts.   
      But I said none of this to her, I simply kissed her, and
sent her off to bed. Yet over the next few weeks, I had fantasies
regarding Karen, fantasies 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 Karen, on my orders, licking my tits, my ass, my pussy. 
And images of what pleasures I could bestow on Karen, and the
humiliating poses or situations into which she might be put. 
      While these thoughts took shape within me, I let Karen get
away with her rebellion ... for awhile.  For even as I wrestled
with these thoughts, I was also using them to plan what was to be
the seminal experience in my sexual career...  
      Almost a month passed.  I had no reason to spank either
Joey or Karen in that time.  I had not had a date, nor much
contact with my friends, either.  Whatever Karen had awakened in
me, it was consuming me.  When my plans had gelled, I began
watching for infractions.  Karen didn't disappoint me.  I think
she was itching for it, too, for her behavior towards me, (not
towards Joey,) steadily grew more rebellious as the month went
by.  
      I was fixing dinner for Joey, Karen and me, and Karen was
due home from the library at 5:00 p.m.  Six o'clock approached,
and Karen was still not home.  I sat Joey down, and while he ate,
I went to my room and got an envelope with a letter I had
prepared for Karen.  I left it out on my bed, and returned to
supper.  At 6:30, Karen breezed in, acting as if nothing was
amiss.  I instantly set upon her, let her know I was angry with
her, and that she would be punished.  She shot me an angry glare,
but I could tell that this was just what she, too, had been
waiting for.  I told her to go up to my room, read the letter on
the bed, and wait for me.  I promised to bring her some dinner. 
      Karen left, feigning rebellion.  Joey said "She's really
gonna get a talking-to, isn't she?"  I nodded.  When we had
finished, I cleared away the food, and while Joey washed the
dishes, I prepared a 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 nipple, 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, suggested this, yet I had probably carried it out beyond
her capacity to imagine it.  I worried that I was hurting her. 
      Then she started straining against her bonds, trying to
raise herself from the ottoman.  That brought me right back, and
I moved to sit on the bed beside the ottoman.  I said, quietly
but forcefully, "Stay down and still. And not a sound!"  Again,
surprising me, Karen obeyed.  I put my hands on her buttocks,
felt the smooth skin, caressed it, kneaded it ... and then I said
the word "One," and delivered a stinging slap to Karen's right
rump.  Karen shook with each of the twenty blows I delivered, ten
on each buttock, but her breathing was deep and heavy when I
again kneaded the now pink skin of her butt.  I picked up the
paddle, and again announced "ONE!" I delivered ten blows with the
paddle, five to each buttock, and I could see the pain in Karen's
face as each stroke fell.  But I could also smell the distinct
odor of musk rising from her pussy.   
      I proceeded to caress Karen's butt, powdering it and
rubbing in some mineral oil.  Every few seconds, however, I gave
her a quick slap, at random intervals, so that she never knew
when a blow was coming.  This, I could tell, was really exciting
Karen, for she was squirming not in pain but in 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 tounge
into my cunt.  I was on fire, not just between my legs, but all
through my body.  I tried to prolong it, savor the feel of my
sister's face against my most private parts, and I did the best I
could.  But the whole scene was so intoxicating that in just a
few minutes, I forced my hands hard against Karen's head, as if
it was possible to bring her closer to me than she already was. 
      And then I exploded.  Noisily, too.  I thanked heaven for
the orgasm, thanked heaven too for the noisy TV I could still
hear from the basement.  When the spasms subsided, I held Karen's
head close to my crotch, stroking her hair gently for many
minutes.  I could feel Karen shivering, and realized that it had
been a turn-on for her, as well.  I found I wanted to pleasure
her now, but I also wanted to retain my power over her.  I
continued stroking and caressing Karen's hair while I reviewed my
options. 
      Meanwhile, Karen was wriggling her way up onto the bed,
despite her bound wrists and legs.  I used the opportunity to
assert my supremacy.  I stood up, grabbed Karen by the arm, and
dragged her back to the ottoman.  I untied her knees, ordered her
to spread her legs, only this time, she was on her knees and
looking straight into the mirror.  I placed the ottoman over her
lower legs and bound her ankles and knees to the ottoman's legs. 
Finally, to complete her helplessness, I slipped a final thong
thru her bound wrists, and tied them firmly to her waist. 
      I took a moment to simply look at her tied there, helpless,
and felt heady with power.  I stood to her side, but easily
within her view, and began to undo the bra I wore.  I approached
her, my tits jiggling, and placed my bra lightly over her
shoulder.  I don't know what made me do what I did next, but it
was inspired, I think.  I removed my panties, still wet and heavy
with my odor, and I arranged them on Karen's head so that her
eyes were visible thru one opening, with the moist spot directly
over her nose.  I pulled the panties tight against her face and
secured them with a safety pin.  She was shaking, fearful, I
think that I was about to punish her again. 
      And in a strange, erotic way, I was about to punish her. 
Not only was she placed in what had to be a humiliating, helpless
pose, she was forced to confront her own image in the mirror. 
And with the smell of me in her nostrils, too.  I walked right up
to her, my pussy only inches below her face.  I reached down with
both hands and caressed her breasts until her nipples were hard. 
Then I walked behind her, and ran my hands over her skin,
especially over her still reddened buttocks.  With my left hand,
I reached around and took hold of her nipple, squeezed and rolled
it in my hand until Karen's face was full of pleasure.  With my
right hand, I squeezed and 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
passion in Karen's eyes. 
      I pulled really close, let one hand drop between Karen's
legs and began to caress cunt and breast all at the same time. 
In her ear I whispered "Not a sound ..." and Karen managed,
although how she managed, I do not know.  For now I was doing her
in earnest, ravaging her neck with my teeth, biting softly in
areas where her hair would cover any marks.  And I was now
kneading her breasts with my left hand, and the fingers of my
right hand were busily exploring the precious cleft between her
legs. 
      As I said, Karen continued to surprise me.  For even as I
drove her closer to the brink, even as I felt her begin to quake
and shiver against me, Karen reached with her bound hands to make
contact with my own dripping cunt.  This drove me wild, and I
began rubbing my hand against her clit with a force I hadn't
meant to apply.  But Karen was a trooper, all right, she took it
all as pleasure, not pain, even when it clearly hurt.  I moved
both hands down to her cunt, spreading her lips with my left and
delving along the wet cleft with my right.  It took every ounce
of concentration I had to continue servicing Karen, but when I
felt her finger enter my cunt, go deep to rub against the
pulsating tiny 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 was pleasantly amazing, and we wrapped our legs around
each others' thighs and rocketed each other to one more earth-
shattering orgasm. 
      When our senses cleared, I kissed her and held her, and we
giggled a bit, feeling closer than we had in years.  Presently,
Karen said, "You know what? I could eat four of those
sandwiches!"  I laughed too.  I put on my bedclothes, noted the
time, and went off to put Joey to bed.  I found him practically
asleep in front of the basement TV.  I turned the TV off, which
woke him, and he ambled off to bed at my command.  I returned, a
pair of sandwiches in hand, and found my room arranged in its
usual order.  Karen was still lounging naked on the bed, though
she had a towel draped over her hips.  I joined her, but I did
not undress.  We ate our sandwiches, laughed and talked, cuddled
and caressed until we heard our parents coming up the driveway. 
With a final kiss, Karen grabbed her clothing and ran for her
room.  But not without saying "I can't wait for next time ... " 
      I went down to greet Mom and Dad, with those words echoing
in my ears.  
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