Cheryl sat on a bench on the second floor of the Galleria, talking to her friend Jinny. They were somewhat walled off from the rest of the mall traffic; the benches were screened on two sides by ferns, and was in a sunken section overlooking the first floor. They were chatting, resting pleasantly for a while and scoping out boys below them when Cheryl noticed him staring at them.
An adult man, well dressed, but eye balling them outrageously, as if it was normal to ogle fouteen year old girls when you were thirty. Cheryl turned to say something to Jinny when she realized he was walking straight at them, smiling and confident. The words
"What a perv," had just slipped from her lips when she realized he was almost on them. She had spoken louder then she meant to, he was way too close and they both started to get up when she heard him say in a pleasant voice
"Sit Down." She did. Instantly. She had to. As she opened her mouth to protest Jinny cut loose with
"What the f-," but they were both cut off by "Quiet," and of course they were. "Look at me," and she did, searchingly, as well and as hard as she could as he looked into first her eyes then Jinny's. She had no idea how long it took, but Being Quiet, Looking at Him and Sitting Down filled her with inexhaustible purpose. But eventually he spoke again, smiling benignly at her and her best friend.
"So, I'm a perv? 'What a perv' I believe you said? Well, I am going to pour some filth from my 'perv' mind into yours, and you want me to, don't you?" It was true; nothing was more important than him filling her up with filthy thoughts; she had an image flash into her mind of him opening the top of his head and hers, tipping forward while filth sloshed out and filled the empty space in her head. "Yep, you are definitely minor grade in the filth department.... except for the kisses you two have been sneaking lately. Definitely room for improvement in the perv department since you asked." She would have been embarrassed to have anyone else know what she and Jinny had done ('how did he know?' flitted through for the barest moment); but he was reminding her of something filthy, and she desperately wanted to be filled with filth. "You know honey, I see real potential in you. I see for example that you haven't given a thought to your poor brother. A growing young man like that must have all kinds of needs, and having a little teen fuck-doll like you prance around must be tough on him. Shame on you, you little fuck-doll. Oh, by the way, you love being verbally humiliated, don't you? Being called a fuck-doll, or a slut, being told off as the whore you are makes you get wet between your legs, makes you want to act on your slut impulses, doesn't it?"
She nodded; it was true. She realized how aroused she was, a hundred times hotter than when she and Jinny had fooled around under the covers last week. That was a spark; being pegged for the fuck-doll she was, that was an inferno.
"Brother Josh is the most beautiful person in the world; he stalks through the landscape of your life like a young god, and you want to worship him. His cock and balls are the most exciting thing in the world, and they compel your obedience, love and fidelity. You are so fixated on him that every chance you get, you masturbate thinking about serving him, servicing him like a submissive slave whore; it's your new obsession.
Your favorite nightly ritual is to get in bed, soaking wet in anticipation, and play with yourself until you come, imagining that you are allowed to please and pleasure Josh. Oh yea, but since you are a total slut slave you have a special way to serve him that befits your status and his. You fantasize about taking his dick in your ass constantly; it is the only way to show him how much you love him and want to please him. Selfish girls think about their pussy; the best way to show love and obedience is to open your ass willingly to the one you love and focus in his pleasure, submitting to his will. You like to use something smooth and long, like a hairbrush handle, pull your legs up and after you get it wet with pussy juice, slide it up your ass and fuck yourself. As you fuck yourself, you pretend it is Josh doing you, Josh's hard cock parting your cheeks; you cry sometimes when you ass bang yourself because it feels so good even to pretend you are submitting to Josh. The best part is after you have fucked yourself to Josh's fantasy climax in your ass; that's when you pull your play dildo out of your ass and put it in your mouth, imagining that you have been allowed to clean the filth of your ass off his glorious cock. That's when you play with your pussy, coming and shaking with pleasure, and feeling good. You only feel good about yourself when you are serving your big brother. Then contentment fills you, pride in service, and love. But here is the catch, honey. Every time you masturbate thinking of Josh, it pushes you closer to the edge, where you have to act. Sooner or later you won't be able to hold it in, and you will have to seduce him, and tremblingly offer your ass and mouth for service. Every time you play fuck yourself, it reinforces your love, submission and lust for Josh. At the end of the day honey, nothing matters more than Josh's happiness, nothing could be more right and good then getting him off in your ass and mouth serially, and serving him in any other way.
If Josh rejects your worthless slut ass, you will of course accept it, and spend the rest of your life obsessively masturbating thinking about him. You'll do anything for him; whore for money if he wants, suck off dogs in the street, hell you'd love that it, would be a way to prove how much you loved him. You were made to love Josh, and the only way you can show your love is through complete sexual devotion to him."
The words washed over and through Cheryl; the sensation of hearing things for the first time and yet knowingly in every fiber of her being that they were true and right was like an ice bath or a free fall. As her being and heart were remade, she felt like she was in a whirlwind, but one throwing her right where she needed to be. A growing desire to go home and see if Josh was back from football practice warred with the need to Listen and Be Quiet; she was in equilibrium.
"And you. Quietly, tell me what you think of all this?" Cheryl realized though her fog of lust (filth was slopping over the top of her head, running down all over her) that he was talking to Jinny.
"This is the sickest thing I have ever heard, you are some kind of freak, I'm scared off you and -"
"Quiet." Hatred for Jinny flared in Cheryl's breast, she was a stupid bitch who didn't, couldn't understand that Josh owned her, she belonged to him. "Actually," he continued, "you think that is the sexiest, most exciting thing you have ever heard. In fact, it has permanently warped your sexuality; you want to play in their garden, don't you? Look at her, and think about how hot your incestuous slave friend is." Jinny was facing almost directly across from Cheryl, as she turned to look with hunger and need at her best friend, Cheryl could tell she was flushed and bright eyed. "Don't worry, tonight you will have plenty of time with me to get this all worked out, and your new feelings for your friend."
More filth in her head. She was drenched in it; thank God she was filled already.
Jinny's mom, Mrs. Grieg, picked them up in less than an hour, and after a short talk with the man (what was his name?) agreed it would be a good idea for them to get a hotel room at the Day's Inn. She also realized how important it was that she go get all of Jinny's underclothes, nightwear, etc as well as all her lingerie, slips, heels etc. He told her he would keep Jinny busy until she got back to join them, and gave her instructions to stop at a store Cheryl knew sold dirty magazines and stuff. He gave her a long list of items to get that Jinny and her would be using on each other, but Cheryl knew she wouldn't need to write them down; she wouldn't forget. Finally they were done talking (Cheryl was practically peeing her pants in frustration over the wait) and Mrs. Grieg kissed Jinny goodbye very passionately on the mouth.
They drove back in silence, Cheryl running over and over again in her mind how she had treated Josh, things she had said, clothes she had worn, glances he had given her; a never ending cycle of regrets, hope, worry and lust. She was dimly aware that Mrs. Grieg was looking at her with new eyes; the knowledge that her best friend's mom was eye balling her was insignificant. Insignificant until she realized that Mrs. Grieg must have been filled up with filth like she was, might be feeling for Jinny something like what felt for Josh. Sympathy and a shudder of excitement coursed through her and she turned to look at Mrs. Grieg. What would it be like for both of them to kneel at Josh's feet? At the next light Mrs. Grieg turned to look straight at her; no need for words; they were partners in filth. Mrs. Grieg nodded her head before the light changed, and Cheryl slid her shorts and panties from under her butt. Under Mrs. Grieg's intermittent gaze, Cheryl moved the fingers of her right hand in and out of her pussy until they were soaked, and then slid two fingers up her ass. It hurt; it felt right and she closed her eyes. It was Josh she was being split by, he was using her for his pleasure in her mind's eye, she was loving him back with an intensity that made her heart ache as she thrust her fingers wildly into her bottom.
She was almost home. She pulled her fingers from her ass, missing them almost instantly, feeling empty, and as they pulled up to her house Mrs. Grieg reached over, took Cheryl's fingers and wiped them under Mrs. Grieg' own nose. Then, looking straight at Cheryl, Mrs. Grieg licked both fingers clean with deliberate and careful affection.
Mrs. Grieg drove off to the first night of her new life as Cheryl ran in to her house. She took the front porch steps in one jump and pulled open the screen door.
Mom wasn't home, and neither was Josh. She heard a door open behind her and from the downstairs bathroom there he was, walking into the kitchen.
She had never really seen him before. She had been dimly aware at some level that he was getting more masculine, filling out now, a muscular young man who got playing time at tight end as a junior at a good football school.
The blond hair matted and sweaty from practice, the grey half shirt and jeans he wore after the voluntary "captain's" practice on Saturday. He was so beautiful she wanted to cry. She wanted to launch herself at him, wanted to kneel in supplication at his feet, wanted to quietly undress in front of him there in the kitchen and pray he would fuck her slut body (the sure knowledge that she was a fuck doll created to server and love him flashed into her head for the millionth time). She did nothing. She looked down, flushed and red and mumbled back
"Hi" when he said "Hey Chery," with a sunny smile. She mumbled something again, afraid if she looked directly at him he would see through her, see the lust written on her forehead like scarlet letters. He asked her if she was ok and it was all she could do to say yea and run upstairs.
She flung herself down on her bed and began to cry. He was so beautiful and perfect and she was scared and worthless; she hated herself. She lay for a while, quietly crying, until she become aware of the posters around her room of various actors and musicians; boys and men she had given some small fidelity to before she had learned the truth about who she was and what she was made for. With great deliberation she took each poster down, tore it in two and threw it away. It felt good to do this; cathartic and loyal at the same time.
When her room was finally bare of the offending posters she stood still for a few minutes, pleased in a small way that she had done something positive in her life, some small act of service to Josh. Even if he didn't know about it, any act of devotion felt good, made her swell a bit. Cheryl walked over to the mirror in the corner; a full length rectangle of glass that showed a pretty young girl. She wore jean shorts and tye-dyed shirt, with her blond hair done up in braids on either side. She let her hair down and stared pensively at the girl facing her. Pretty, blond, slender and graceful she knew, not the prettiest girl in school, not as pretty as Jinny but still very attractive. She slid her T-shirt over her head, shook her hair out of the way and looked at her small breasts encased in a cotton bra, belly and the tops of her hips. She slid her hands over her flat and smooth stomach, up to feel her own breasts. Jinny had touched them, twice now in the dark when she had slept over. They had not talked about it; it was like what they had experimented with had happened to two different people. What would it be like to have Josh touch her? She ran her hands up to cup her breasts, then to toy and play with her hard nipples; it was Josh's hands she imagined, Josh's hand taking what he wanted, pleased to play with his sister's tits. She opened her eyes again and striped down to panties, taking the bra off to expose small conical breast, hard and excited. She reached down now, sliding her hands over the mound of her pubis, rubbing over the pantied vee of her groin. She slowly slid to her knees in front of the mirror, looking at herself with Josh's eyes, flushed and excited and very, very hot. Her knees spread open as she rested on her haunches, exposing the place she was used to play with at times. She reached down to cup her crotch; would he ever do that? Grab her there like he owned her? She knew what was missing.
She came back from the bathroom with her toothbrush case; round, smooth and long enough to do what she wanted. She turned around, bending over and looking back at herself to see the rear view as she slid her panties off. Her ass crack and then the view of her pussy from behind. She shook her panties loose, leaned forward to rest her shoulder and the top of her chest on the bed as she craned back to see what she was doing. She realized she was soaking wet, and shaking with excitement. As Cheryl slid the toothbrush case into her wet canal one word escaped her lips with the softest, whispered sigh, "Josh." It was coated and wet in seconds, and she began to firmly push it in her bottom. She didn't re-lubricate it; Josh wouldn't need to. She would take anything from him. A fantasy vision of his awesome cock and balls flashed in her minds eye; as she watched the case slip into her ass she close her eyes and imagined Josh there behind her, maybe making her clasp her ankles while he slowly and firmly pumped into her ass, holding her at the waist. Her ass; his playground. His fuck doll. His slut little sister, made to suck him and ass fuck him and be everything he wanted. Slow at first but as his pleasure built his speed would too, not caring if it hurt her, she deserved to be hurt, wanted to be hurt, wanted to show how she could open up like a flower to accept her master's cock, her own personal god. Oh, she was made for this, made to be his property, made to love him and make him feel good and get him off in her ass anytime he was stiff.
She was exhausted. She pulled the case from her ass slowly, relishing the feeling of friction in her most intimate hole, and then the pang of empty loneliness as it came out. Dutifully she turned to face the mirror, then sank to her knees gracefully, feeling beautiful and ready to explode. She brought the case to her lips, hesitating, smelling the dark musk of her ass.
She closed her eyes as her left hand brought the filthy tool into her mouth. The bitter taste that she craved and the fingers of her right hand pumping in her slick channel brought her to climax; she felt the walls of her cunt contract with hot pleasure as she visualized a loving and detailed cleansing of her fantasy master's cock.
When she finally collected herself she stood up with a greater sense of purpose then she had ever known. The man at the Galleria had been wrong, really. She was not being driven over the brink. She was already over, just looking for the right time to show Josh what he owned and always would.
His sister, his slut; her brother, her master.