Message-ID: <56164asstr$1183353002@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Path: i13g2000prf.googlegroups.com!not-for-mail From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <1183347723.201727.256380@i13g2000prf.googlegroups.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 2 Jul 2007 03:42:04 +0000 (UTC) User-Agent: G2/1.0 X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8.1.4) Gecko/20070515 Firefox/2.0.0.4;MEGAUPLOAD 1.0,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe) Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com Injection-Info: i13g2000prf.googlegroups.com; posting-host=203.177.249.50; posting-account=qBK25Q0AAACTpvYY3RGCixMIsuvRRKwm X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 01 Jul 2007 20:42:03 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Family Enslaved Ch.6 by Rachael Ross (F/M, (S/B)Incest, FemDom, BDSM, CBT, Cheat) Lines: 795 Date: Mon, 02 Jul 2007 01:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2007/56164> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, dennyw Family Enslaved Copyright 2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only. Story Codes: F/M, (S/B)Incest, FemDom, BDSM, CBT, Cheat Family Enslaved by Rache Ch.6 : Slave-Brother "You're taking it easy today, right, dad?" I kissed my father's cheek, leaning over the back of his chair to do it, and rubbing my hands over his chest. "I don't think I have much of a choice." He chuckled and put his right hand on top of mine, giving me a little squeeze. He was reading a magazine while my mother was upstairs, sleeping after her bath. She really had been worn out from the night before and then our little scene in the kitchen. I was off for downtown, to pay a visit on my brother at the radio station. It was still early, just after ten o'clock, but I wanted to see him before Cheryl showed up at noon. "I'll see you later, Daddy." I smiled, knowing his eyes were following me as I left the room. I'd dressed nicely, which is to say sexily, with a lycra mini-skirt that showed off my long toned legs and nice round ass perfectly. The shoes helped too, three inch stilettos that lifted me to very nearly six feet tall. They also pushed my ass out one way, and my upturned braless breasts out the other. I wore a leather top that resembled a corset as much as anything else, red and black, with the laces in the front. It was tight and provocative and lifted my tits nicely, putting the creamy tops of my breasts on permanent display. My only concession to modesty was a black silk blazer that I wore over the corset. It was thin and light as a feather and I didn't bother with the buttons. Even if I had, it wouldn't have covered me much more; the neck was low and intended to show off a lot of cleavage anyway. I'd brushed my hair and used a silver beret to keep it back in a wide silken fan down my neck and just below my shoulders. Some small gold earrings and some properly applied makeup and I was set. If this outfit didn't give my brother wet dreams I was going to be very disappointed. I knew exactly how I looked and I'd spent my entire adult life perfecting it, which was something people tended to forget. With the exception of a very lucky few, looking beautiful is a lot of hard work for a woman. It was how I made my living and I put no less time, effort, and thought into it than anyone else puts into their own career. But nobody hits on an accountant because she has exceptional math skills. None of us assume she doesn't have a uterus because a woman is a rocket scientist for NASA. It is a sexist world we live in, no matter how much we pretend to be politically correct. And I was hardly that in any case. "I'm looking for the assistant station manager." I told the receptionist, a thirtyish woman who looked fifty, even with her big blonde hair. "I didn't know it was his birthday." She blinked at me, looking me up and down as I stood there. "Excuse me?" I narrowed my eyes. "You're one of those telegrams, right?" She wasn't smiling so she must have been serious. "A...Stripper-gram?" "Heh." I stared at her for a moment and part of me really did want to slap her. "You're better looking than the last one." She nodded. "The last one..." I said slowly. "...You get a lot of uh, stripper-grams here?" "Oh no." She looked shocked at the possibility. "Just the one, but now I know what to look for." She was speaking softly, like it was a secret, even though the entry was deserted but for the two of us. "I see." I nodded, as if I could appreciate her powers of astute observation. "So...Is it Jim's birthday?" She did smile then. "Yeah." I wiggled my eyebrows. "The boys at his bowling league thought he might want a little pick-me-up, you know. Since he's turning thirty today." "Thirty?" She gasped. "He doesn't look that old." "Do you think you could point me in the right direction, uh..." "Cindy." She smiled. "Sure, just use the elevators; his office is on the third floor." "Thanks Cindy." I smiled sweetly. "I'll be sure to tell him what a big help you've been." "Oh." She waved her hand like it was nothing. I made a mental note to send a real stripper-gram to Jim on his next birthday and I at least found a smile in that. Receptionists, in my experience, were often the most competent people to be found in a business, but obviously there was always the exception. Judging from the lack of visitors however it didn't seem like Cindy could hurt this one too much. I'd expected some hustle and bustle, but really I knew nothing about the radio business. Jim's station wasn't a large one, or so I'd gathered from what little he'd explained over dinner. It was three stations really, a network affiliate, a local independent, both on FM, and an AM station dedicated to news and weather. One of them was being broadcast softly though the buildings PA system apparently, because I could hear the DJ making bad jokes. The first five minutes I was there made me quite happy that I'd decided to become a Dominatrix. The third floor was a little busier anyway; at least there were people there. A portly young man carrying a stack of binders very nearly walked into a water cooler when he saw me. Another woman, a little older than myself, gave me a catty look up and down, but neither of them said anything. I decided it would be prudent to find my own way around and I ignored them. It was a normal office building, carpeted and painted a lovely shade of dull beige, with blonde oak doors and big glass windows. There was accounting, marketing, a break room, a manager's office, and finally... Bingo. Assistant Manager. "I know you." I said. I was somewhat surprised that my brother would have his own secretary, but maybe I shouldn't have been. I guess I pictured him as being more the out and about type manager, rather than sitting behind a desk. I thought radio would be a little less sedate than it appeared to be. "Uh..." The girl was younger than me, my brother's age, and I knew that because we'd gone to the same high school. "Paula?" I pursed my lips. "Pauline." I smiled and nodded because that was her name. "Can I help you, miss?" The woman was cute and blonde, and a bit brighter than the bulb downstairs. She just didn't recognize me. "I'm here to see Jim." I smiled at her, enjoying her discomfort at not knowing who I was and doubtless wondering how I knew her. "Do you have an appointment?" She was speaking slowly, buying herself some time to figure it out, and perhaps I was on the tip of her tongue, but I doubted it. "Do I need one?" I gave her the sort of look a princess might give to a serf. I even struck a little pose, simply because I was feeling in a mood right then, feeling like a stripper-gram with an attitude. "Yes, you do." She was sparked now, and it was her office and her boss, and I could go to hell. I'd never liked Pauline, although I hadn't known her very well. She was two years behind me, like my brother, and she'd been his girlfriend their senior year. Thankfully I'd missed most of that, having been away for college, but I got all the news. My brother was happy to tell me about his girlfriend, about his dear Pauline and how happy they were. He'd even brought up the "M" word once, as I recalled, talking about how after college they might get serious. Then my brother had met Cheryl and of course poor Pauline hadn't stood a chance after that. She was too far away for one thing, but too familiar as well, and I thought my brother had made the right choice. Pauline was a girl who'd got by on her looks growing up, but they weren't that good, not like she'd imagined they were. After high school reality must have been a bitch. Girls like her hadn't given me the time of day in high school. I'd been pretty enough, but not beautiful. I'd been a late bloomer, and it wasn't until my senior year, or even after that, during my freshman year at college that I'd come into my own. I'd changed dramatically over the course of those two years, my body to some degree, but more than that it was my attitude. I'd become determined not to be average, not be like everyone else and that was why Pauline didn't recognize me. I wasn't like anyone she'd ever met. "So this is what Homecoming Queens do after the big parade, huh?" I looked around with a look of disdain. "Who are you?" Pauline stared at me and her color was rising. Before I could answer the other door was opening. "Pauline, could you..." And then my brother saw me, and his eyes got large, and then he glanced at his secretary and I knew. It was like a bolt of lightning striking me. I knew exactly what was going on and I sighed inwardly. "Not her." I stared at my brother, shaking my head slowly. "Susan." My brother swallowed hard and he was guilty. "Susan? Your sister...Susan?" Pauline was looking between us, but she didn't matter at all. Now I understood why Jim didn't want his wife coming down to the station. Why my brother had wanted to meet me someplace for lunch. He'd come back from college a married man, but that wouldn't have mattered to a girl like Pauline, would it? They'd been serious once and marriages failed all the time. Or maybe she didn't even care about that, maybe she just wanted the old times. The old in-out with the boy she'd loved in high school. And Jim, why would he say no? He could do what he wanted, especially behind two closed doors. I'm sure one of them had a lock on it. He could nail Pauline any time he wanted and still go home to give his blushing bride a little kiss after dinner. Yeah, people are people. I've known that for a long time now. My brother didn't surprise me, even though I'd hoped Cheryl's suspicions had been wrong. Not because I really cared one way or the other about fidelity, but more because I'd rather hoped my brother was less attached sexually. A mistress complicated things, but only a little. This was just another opportunity to help my family. Much as I'd helped my mother and father, now I was going to be helping my brother and his wife. "The apple doesn't fall far from the orchard, does it Jim?" I chuckled, thinking of my parents and wondering if there was a gene for adultery. "Uh, look maybe we can talk in here..." Jim was giving me his angelic smile, the one he liked to use with mom growing up. It was a good play, but I wasn't mom. "Sure." I dipped my head. "Hold all my calls, uh...Pauline." My brother gave her a little nod, like he was trying to reassure her. Pauline could do little but watch us and I gave her a pretty smile as I stepped around her desk, pausing as I noticed some half-dozen photos, framed and carefully arranged. She had a narrow piece of paper taped to the side of her computer monitor with phone numbers for daycare, babysitter, pre-school, pediatrician... "Your son?" I ignored my brother who was looking at me somewhat impatiently. "Yeah." Pauline's eyes narrowed and she looked defensive...Or protective, more like. "He looks like you." I softened a little then, reminding myself that I didn't know everything, no matter how much I thought I did. "He's cute." "Thanks." Pauline nodded. "His name is Tyler." "How old is he?" "Susan..." My brother said softly. "He's almost four." Pauline looked away from me, turning her bright blue eyes on her son. "You're married now?" I asked and I was feeling bad suddenly for my earlier words. "No." Pauline gave me a sigh to go with a weak smile. "His father is Donnie Carlson, remember him?" "Mmmm..." I had to shrug because I didn't. "He was the quarterback." Pauline made a little face. "He...We sort of made a mistake." "Susan, let's talk in here..." My brother was a little anxious and I let him stew. "No." I shook my head slightly, reaching down to pick up one of the pictures. "This isn't a mistake, Pauline. He's beautiful." "Yeah." She looked up at me gratefully and we weren't friends, but we weren't enemies anymore either. "How long have you been working here?" I put the picture back down and gave Pauline's shoulder a little squeeze. "Just a couple months." She sucked her lips softly. "I bumped into Jim when I was applying and he got me hired the next day." She glanced at my brother, but she looked worried too. "Well, he's a nice guy, isn't he?" And I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Pauline was doing whatever she had to do to take care of her son, I understood that. She had all those phone numbers handy for a reason and I was willing to bet she called them regularly. Whatever Pauline might have been after high school, she'd ended up a mother, and she wasn't running away from it. I had to respect that. It didn't help my brother a whole lot though, and if anything it put him in a bad light. It occurred to me that Pauline might not have wanted anything more than an honest paycheck. Maybe my brother had offered her the job with a big long string attached. That would have been disappointing. "How long have you been fucking her?" I asked my brother as soon as he closed the door behind us, locking it with an audible click. "Ah...Heh...It's not like that..." "Hey, I don't care." I shrugged. "Nice office, by the way. Not much of a view though." It was a pretty ordinary office overlooking a much bigger building across the street. There was the obligatory photograph of Cheryl on his desk, his diploma on the wall. A book case, some furniture that looked like it had been there for awhile. I walked around, dropping my purse on his desk, and admiring it all while my brother watched me. "We did it, yeah." My brother finally admitted after two long minutes of silence. "A few times, I'm not 'seeing' her, if that's what you're worried about." "Me?" I made an innocent face, running my fingers along a bookshelf. "I'm not worried about anything, Jim. Not a thing. Ohhh...The FCC Standards and Practices for Public Transmission. I always wanted to read that, can I borrow it?" "Would you be serious with me?" My brother sighed. "Would you fuck me?" I countered, turning around and staring into his brown eyes. "What?" He blinked. "You fuck her." I shrugged, walking closer to him. "Would you fuck me?" My breasts were prominent, with my blazer falling off my bare shoulders. My hips undulated as I walked slowly, one foot directly in front of the other. It was a dance, a motion designed to stimulate the senses. I kept my shoulders back, my head straight and gave the man my undivided attention. "I don't have time for this." My brother said, but his eyes were drinking me in. "Make time." I said softly and he was against the wall and I was so close suddenly, like the previous night in the hallway at home. But this was different. This wasn't about Cheryl, this was all about us. "Susan." Jim was breathing heavily. "I won't tell." I whispered, taking that last half-step, letting my breasts graze him through the thin dress shirt he wore. "This isn't...We can't..." "Yes we can..." I leaned into him, my tits pressing themselves to his chest, my pelvis meeting his and I could feel his erection through my skirt. "Please..." He swallowed. "Shhh...We can do anything we want, little brother..." I was touching him then, my hands on his arms, pulling him gently to hold me. It was making me hot, playing the seductress for my own brother. "You're my sister..." "So?" I was talking to his mouth, our lips so close they brushed against each other as I formed the words. "You wanted me when we kissed, didn't you?" "I was sixteen." He shivered as I placed his hands on my hips. "You wanted to fuck me then, tell me..." I let the tip of my tongue touch his lips. "I..." Jim took a deep breath through his nose. "Tell me..." I sighed softly. "...Did you jerk off thinking about me?" "Yeah." He nodded, just barely. "I wanted to fuck you. So bad...Jesus." "And you want to fuck me now, don't you?" I moved my body up and down against his, only so much as he needed, and I felt my brother's hands tightening around my narrow waist. "Yesssss..." He sighed and he closed his eyes. "How bad do you want me right now?" I teased him, pushing forward with my hips, grinding my skirt covered crotch against the lump in his pants. I was hot for him, so wet inside right then and I had to push it down. "I want you, Susan." Jim opened his eyes and his jaw seemed set with determination now. He'd made his decision. "Enough to get on your knees?" I tilted my head slightly, licking my top lip with the tip of my tongue. "What?" He almost smiled. "Would you be my slave, Jim?" I asked him sweetly. "Ummm..." "Would you love me as your Mistress?" "Mistress?" He laughed then. "That's uh...Kinky, right?" "Not for me." I smiled and I liked the way his hands felt. He was holding me now, the way a man should hold a woman, and he was hard as a rock. I wanted to kiss him. "Handcuffs and all that?" He was making a joke of it. "I didn't bring any handcuffs." I gave him an apologetic smile. "All I brought was what you see." "Then, yeah...Sure..." He grinned and he was moving quickly. From guilty husband to reluctant brother, and now he was the confident lover, all in fifteen minutes. And we hadn't even undressed. I didn't know if I liked that about him, or if I should have been a little disappointed that he was being this easy. I'd been prepared to go all the way if it meant getting him on his knees for me afterwards. But really, I wasn't shocked, he'd wanted to fuck me since he was sixteen and that was probably predictable. I was beginning to wonder why I hadn't dreamt of incest with my parents or brother. It made me feel a little abnormal, being the only one in my family innocent of it until recently. "Sure what?" I turned my head slightly, as if offering him my ear. "Sure...Mistress?" He replied slowly and I giggled, stepping back from him even as he tried to hold me close. SLAP!! I brought my right palm across his left cheek hard and fast. The foreplay was over. "Ow...Shit!" My brother stared at me, bringing his hand to his face. "Get on your fuckin' knees, bitch!" I commanded him, probably loud enough so that Paula had heard me. I just wanted to surprise the man, physically and more importantly, emotionally. I didn't really care for swearing personally, but some men liked it, some women too. Language was a tool like any other, and I used it. "Wha...What?" My brother looked stunned. SLAP!! I caught him again, just as he lowered his hand for me, like he was begging for it. His left cheek was bright red now and the rest of him was flushing as well. Some anger flashed in his eyes, so that they became dark and hard, not the soft brown they usually were. "You want me? Get on your knees." I stared at him, looking like a real bitch, I was sure. My heart was pounding with excitement too. This was really good for me. He was shocked and confused, the pain was a very little thing compared to his humiliation. I'd slapped him hard, twice, and no girl had ever done that to my brother, I was sure. This was a long ways from any experience he'd ever had and I wondered if it would turn him on or off. One thing about BDSM, it was always a switch, one way or the other. There was no in-between. If a person liked it, then it became a matter of degrees, determining the extent and limits a person would go before pleasure turned into antipathy. All I wanted for now was to see if my brother would accept a role as my willing submissive. We'd test his limits later. "Okay." Jim said after a few second's hesitations and he got down on the carpet slowly. "You'll address me as Mistress, do you understand?" "Uh, alright...Mistress." He was looking down at my knees. "We have..." I looked at my watch. "...Just about an hour to straighten you out, slave. After that..." "What?" Jim looked up at me. "I mean...What's after that, Mistress? Why an hour? I don't..." "Shut-up." I frowned at him. "You'll talk when I ask you a question and you'll tell me the truth. No lies, slave. If you lie to me I'll know and I'll punish you for it. Do you understand me?" "Yes, Mistress...I do." My brother didn't look like he was enjoying this very much, but we had time. BDSM isn't for everyone, I knew that and I wouldn't force him. No more than I already had anyway, and all I really wanted was an hour of his time, sixty minutes for us to decide whether we were going to play this way or not. If it didn't work, life would go on and we'd know better. And if it did work...The result was the same. Our lives would go on, but in a different direction altogether. "Open your pants, take out your cock...I want to see it, slave." I told him, standing back a few feet from where he was kneeling. I took off my silk blazer while my brother unzipped his suit pants, reaching inside to pull his cock free of his boxers so that it stood straight out from his charcoal slacks. "Your balls too, slave. Get them out." I draped my blazer carefully over the back of one of the chairs, largely ignoring my brother, showing him that I didn't care that his cock was magnificent. But inside, it made my pussy quiver with anticipation. I'm sure enough girls and young women had swooned over my brother's prick, and so he'd expect me to do the same, like it was a conditioned response. Jim's penis was a solid nine inches, probably, although the base was lost inside his clothing. And thick, very thick with a few prominent veins along the shaft and a glistening circumcised head. It was very attractive and one of the largest I'd ever seen up close and personal. I'd never been a girl to worry over size, but the idea that such a handsome cock would belong to me was almost intoxicating. "You call that a cock?" I chuckled and shook my head, ignoring my desires. They were unimportant for the moment. "Yeah..." "Yeah?" I stared at him. "I mean, yes Mistress. I do." Jim cleared his throat. "I call it something else." I told him, unclipping the long leather strap from my purse. "Put your hands on your head...That's it..." "Am I under arrest, Mistress?" He grinned at me. "Is my cock too big for you?" "Shhh...Save your breath, slave...Straighten up, don't slouch..." I walked over, pushing his shoulders back a little so that my brother knelt straight from his knees to the top of his head. "...Elbows back." Discipline was my life, and right then I was grateful for it. Whether I was Topping a submissive, or resisting a personal craving, I was proud of my self control. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to push my brother onto his back, pull my panties aside, and fuck the daylights out of him. But that would have ruined everything, and if I couldn't keep it a secret from him I'd lose my position. This was a mind game, playing for authority, and I had to win or it would all mean nothing. "Remember that position, slave." I warned him. "If I have to correct you again, it'll be painful." "Yes Mistress." Jim smiled, playing the game now, getting into his role. The strap of my leather purse had been used for a lot of things since I'd bought it. It was eminently practical. I could use it to bind, gag, or noose a slave in a variety of useful ways. But its best function, the one I preferred, was as a whip. It was twenty four inches long, with small silver rings at either end. I doubled it over so that it became a short leather flog in my expert hands and I smiled at my brother. "Stay hard, or it will be worse later." I promised him. SLAP!! And then I brought that short whip down on my brother's stiff cock hard, so that the leather made a sweet slapping sound and wrapped itself around the shaft. "Oh...Fuck!" My brother hadn't seriously believed I'd do it and he dropped his hands immediately to cover himself, pushing his hips and ass back to get his cock away from me. "Get back into position, slave." I snorted derisively at his weakness. "That didn't hurt." "It did hurt." My brother stared up at me with injured eyes, big and soft like a puppy's. The hardness I'd seen after that first slap across his face was nowhere to be seen, and that was more than a little pleasing. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked him, making my voice gentle just for him. "I..." He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, shaking his head. "...No, it uh, it wasn't that bad...Mistress." "I guess not." I smiled as he moved his hands back to his head. "Somebody didn't seem to mind." My brother's cock was still hard, dripping precum despite the pretty white stripe he now sported around the ruddy shaft. That whip did hurt, I knew, and if I beat him with it too hard it could leave some serious welts behind, even cuts as the skin there was very soft and pliant. But the first stroke would be the worst; I'd whipped him hard deliberately with that one. If he was going to quit on me I'd rather have him do it then. "Every girl you've ever been with sucked your cock, didn't they?" I asked him and when he opened his mouth to answer I brought the leather down on his turgid penis with a sharp slapping sound. SLAP!! "Ahhh!" He gasped and nodded quickly, but he didn't move his hands. They stayed on his head where they belonged. "They all loved that cock of yours, I bet." I smiled at him. "Answer me, slave." SLAP!! "Yeaoooow!" I brought the whip down as he answered, punishing him for all those other girls. All the ones in high school and college that had given him whatever he wanted. Because he was so smart, and handsome, and his cock was so beautiful. They'd spoiled him terribly, the way foolish girls do, and now my brother was paying for their mistakes. They hadn't had any self-discipline. "How many girls have you fucked, slave?" I asked and when he didn't answer immediately, I whipped his cock again. SLAP!! "Ohhh...Mistress!" He jerked hard and my brother's face was red. SLAP!! "Aggghh...I don't...I don't know, Mistress." He shut his eyes tightly. SLAP!! "Ahhh...Twenty...Twenty-five...I don't..." His eyes were wet as he opened them wide. SLAP!! "Twenty-Five?" I clucked my tongue and looked at his cock, it was so hard it looked like it was about to pop. He liked the whip a lot. "Yesss...Mistress..." He said, wincing as he expected another blow. "I read an article in Time once; it said if a girl's sexual partners numbered more than half her age, she needs professional help." I dangled the strap in front of his face. My brother just stared at it, panting for air, he'd taken four strokes very quickly there at the end, and his penis was laced with thin white stripes. They weren't welts, not yet, but he'd be tender and sensitive for awhile and that was enough for his first time. He was definitely going to be my new whipping post. Just as my mother's was already the cunt I punished, Jim's would be the cock. When I was in the mood to abuse genitals, mother and son would serve me well. "What do you think that means for boys, slave?" I asked him. "I...I don't know, Mistress." He was breathing slower now and that was good. "You don't know?" I narrowed my eyes. "Stand up, keep your hands where they are." I got my brother on his feet, tapping his thighs with my makeshift whip and telling him to spread his feet should wide. I looped my leather strap around his balls, yanking them firmly with my left hand and pulling the thin leather tight with the other. It was very much like having his balls on a very short leash and I gave him a tug so that he stumbled forward, thrusting with his hips to ease the sudden tension. "You've fucked 25 girls." I chided my brother. "What a slut. You're ready to make me number 26 aren't you?" "Yes, Mistress." My brother said, staring down at my hand as I held his balls tight in that leash. "So tell me about Pauline." I pulled his balls out hard and they were nice and big and cinched tight in that leather strap as it wound completely around his soft sack. "Ahhh...Mistress...She...We fucked...here..." "In this office?" I looked around. "Where, on that little sofa?" I looked at a small imitation leather loveseat against the wall to our left and I walked towards it, giving my brother's balls a stiff yank so that he yelped and followed me closely. "This one?" I repeated and he nodded. "Yes Mistress." "Did you use a condom, slave? Are you clean?" I tugged the leash. "Ohhh yes...Mistress, I...We did...I'm clean." He nodded quickly. "Hmmm..." I sniffed the air as if I might detect their union. "Did she cum?" "I..." He almost smiled so I gave his balls a jerk. "Uggh...I don't know, mistress. I think so." "Of course she did." I chuckled. "All your girls cum when you fuck them, don't they, slave?" I didn't bother looking for an answer; I just sat down on that small sofa so that my brother's straining cock, dark with excitement and criss-crossed with now fading bands of pain, stood heavily erect just a few inches from my face. It was beautiful then, the eye was wide and even as I stared at it a large drop of clear precum appeared, holding for a second and then running wetly down the glans. "Whose cock is this?" I asked my brother, keeping his balls tight with my left hand still holding his leash, and slapping at his prick with the right. "Yours Mistress." My brother answered without hesitation. "I'll punish it." I warned him. "Yes Mistress." "This isn't a kinky game, slave." I looked up at him, giving his cock another slap, a little backhand this time so that it swung pleasantly from side to side. "I know Mistress." Jim nodded. "You don't know anything." I chuckled. "But I'll teach you." "Thank you, Mistress." My brother groaned as I slapped his dick again, and then once more, harder each time, but it wouldn't hurt him. "You'll never fuck around on me; will you, Slave-Brother?" I asked him seriously. "N-No Mistress." He licked his lips. "I...I'm in love with you." "Call me Mistress-Sister and say it again." I commanded, unable to help myself as I was almost ready to cum, just from the simple act of subduing my brother so completely. "Mistress-Sister." He was looking into my eyes. "I love you." "Hmmm...No more girlfriends..." I slapped his cock hard, downward this time and that did hurt a little as I yanked his balls at the same time. "Noooo..." He groaned. "No more, Pauline..." I gave his throbbing cock one more slap. "No Mistress..." My brother sighed and his body seemed to sag slightly as I let him relax. I loosened the strap around his balls, as they were now a nice shade of red, rather darker than normal and slightly swollen perhaps, but hardly damaged by that bare ten minutes or so that I'd bound them. It took a lot longer than that to cause injury. He shivered slightly as fresh blood rushed into his oxygen starved scrotum, a sensation I was always curious about. "Just me..." There was a light knocking at the door. "...And your wife." I looked at my watch. Cheryl was a good 15 minutes early. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= end rache696@yahoo.com www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+