CAPITAL NAMES means the story is being told from that person's perspective. I'm thinking about writing a sequel to this story, but I might leave it as a one-off. Please leave your comments and constructive criticisms; I always want to hear people's opinions whether they be negative or positive. Hope you enjoy! .
My brother is shy. Shyness is endearing up to a point, but at eighteen years old, it goes from cute, to pathetic. You think he’d get out of his fucking shell by now, but nope; Tom is still the awkward, apprehensive boy he’s been his entire life. He’ll be heading off to college soon, and if he doesn’t open up, the best years of his life are going to be spent jerking it in a dorm. He’s a sweet kid, (listen to me patronizing him; he’s a year older than me for fuck’s sake!), but sweetness doesn’t get you very far in this world. He’s not a child anymore, and he needs someone to kill the boy and uncage the man. I guess that’ll have to be me.
Before your dirty, little mind runs rampant with incestuous fantasies, let me tell you now, that I have no intention of fucking my brother. Would you fuck your brother? I didn’t think so. That being said, I am going to get that poor bastard laid. I have a friend who needs to go to the prom. This friend had an incident earlier this year that made her quite unpopular with…everyone. Eleanor is this unfortunate moron, and ignoring the aforementioned incident, she’s actually quite the catch. Let me describe her to you; she’s looking away from me now, so I feel safe giving her a once-over. Don’t judge me for ogling; this is for your benefit.
She has red hair that flows from the crown of her head in an even part, and then bows inwardly at a sharp, angled cut, just below her jawline. She has pale, freckled skin, apple cheeks, a pointed nose, and full, luscious lips, which she keeps sheened with a layer of red lipstick. Her eyes are large, and sparkle with green irises that cement her obvious Irish ancestry. Pretty cute, huh? Well, her face could certainly be described as such, but her body requires more…adult adjectives. Her neck is long, and elegantly slopes into a delicate collarbone that connects two, narrow shoulders. Her breasts protrude from her chest in full D-cups, though their size does not feel exaggerated. She’s no athlete, so her abdomen isn’t toned, but it’s flat and layered with silky skin. Eleanor often brags that her best asset is her ass, and makes sure to add an affectation in the word “ass-et,” just for good measure. I can’t disagree with her; her ass is great. Full, thick glutes round together in supple domes that curve teasingly from her hips, and crease vulgarly into the crack between them. They seem to perch just above her thighs in a gravity-defying bulge, and when she walks, they flex in a teasing cadence of alternating lasciviousness.
Did you get a good picture? She’s pretty hot, huh? Well, she certainly thought so when she decided to go streaking during the Class A semifinals, and ended up causing our starting quarterback to break his tibia. Yeah…it’s a long story, but you can get why she’s unpopular at the moment. Maybe unpopular enough to lower her standards to a lonely, pathetic senior who needs a date to the prom.
“Psst, Ellie,” I whisper to her in chemistry class, “you got a date for prom yet?”
“You know I don’t,” Eleanor hisses back, “and you don’t need to be a cunt and rub it in.”
“I can set you up with a senior,” I smile, “a good-looking boy who just needs a girl with a pulse to hold his arm.”
“Ew,” Eleanor says, making a face, “you’re brother?! I can do better.”
“Don’t be a bitch,” I giggle, “Tom’s a nice guy.”
“That’s exactly the problem, Laura,” Eleanor frowns, “what the fuck am I going to do with a nice guy?”
“Look,” I whisper, catching the eyes of Professor Starling and lowering my voice, “just give him a chance. He’s a senior, so he has cachet.”
“He’s a loser. Just because he’s a year older than me, doesn’t mean I automatically want to fuck his brains out.”
“You’re a fucking loser, Eleanor,” I hiss, losing my temper, “either you go with my brother, or you go stag; you don’t have any other fucking options!”
“Ouch!” Eleanor exclaims, loud enough that the whole class turns around and looks at her. They glare at her with the same animosity they had after she ruined our school’s chances of making it to the state championship. High school football is a big fucking deal in Nebraska, and her infraction would not soon be forgotten.
“Fine,” she whispers to me after the class had turned their attention back to the professor, “I’ll talk to him in the car ride home.”
I thought finally getting my driver’s license would legitimize me as one of the cool kids, but all it did was make me the chaperone of Laurie and her friends. Being the only male in a van full of high school juniors might sound like a fun time, but for me, it usually meant cringing as the passengers screamed out-of-tune renditions of Adelle over the blaring car stereo. At least Laurie only brought one friend home with her today, but that friend just happened to be Eleanor fucking O’Reilly. God, if there was one person in the school that could make me look like less of a loser, it was her. Sure, she was a hot piece, but…the state championship!
“Hey Tom,” Laurie smiles as she gets into the front seat, “how was school?”
“The same,” I murmur, “what is she doing here?”
“Eleanor is staying with us tonight,” Laurie says, “and you’re going to be nice.”
“The state championship…”
“Be nice!” Laurie hisses as Eleanor opens the sliding door of the van.
“Hey Tom,” Eleanor says, “you got a date to the prom yet?”
“I’m not going to prom,” I grumble, “it’s too expensive.”
“It’s an archaic tradition created by racists, it’s a fascist construct that strips people of their individuality, it’s a corporate sham that preys on the insecurities of teenagers,” Laurie teases, “or it’s just too damn expensive. All of those excuses are just code for ‘I can’t get a date.’”
“Fine,” I confess, “I can’t get a date.”
“I bet you haven’t even asked anyone.” Laurie smirks.
“You know I haven’t.” I smile sadly.
“And now that all your ideal fantasies are taken,” Laurie says, “and your back-ups are taken, and your last-resorts are taken, you’ve decided to just skip it all together.”
“Bingo.” I sigh, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot.
“What if,” Laurie smiles coyly, “I had someone in mind that would love to go to prom with you.”
“I’d say you’re a liar, or it’s Eleanor.” I smile back. I’m not fucking stupid, Laurie; I’m just not fucking interested.
“And you think you’re too good for her?” Laurie laughs, and looks back at Eleanor. I eye the beautiful redhead in the rearview mirror, and run the thought through my head. High school was almost over, and any friends I once had, were now mere acquaintances at best. People would judge me for taking Eleanor, but I would never see those people again, so why should I care? She’d owe me at least one dance before she ditches me, which meant I’d get to grind my cock into the best ass in the entire school. Hmm…you know what? I’m already a rock-bottom loser, why the hell not?
“Hey Ellie,” I say to the girl sitting behind me, “will you go to the prom with me?”
“Fine.” she grumbles.
“Enthusiasm, Ellie,” Laurie glares at her friend, “act like you give a shit.”
“Yay,” Eleanor groans, rolling her eyes, “I’m going to prom with Tommy fucking Baker.”
“You could not be more of a bitch!” Laurie hisses, but I don’t give a shit. Eleanor pretending she wanted to go with me would have been much worse than honesty. I knew I was her last resort, and she knew she was my last chance. I didn’t expect anything but one dance of dispassionate grinding, but I was going to bump and grind into that ass like it was my last night on earth. I’d be moving away soon, and all of this high school shit would be behind me. The only thing I knew I’d regret, was that I never told Laurie how I really feel about her.
And I never would.
You know, Tom’s not bad looking. Lanky, tall, and a mess of curly brown hair…he’s not bad looking at all. The only problem with Tom, is his mouth; he doesn’t open it enough, and when he does, you wish he hadn’t. Sitting with him at the kitchen table and listening to him drone on about the mods of his War Thunder gaming forum was fucking tortuous. I don’t care that the mods deleted your post, Tom, and I certainly don’t care that they banned users due to off-topic conversation. Oh, thank god Laurie’s here; I thought I was going to kill myself.
“You two seem to be hitting it off.” She smiles hopefully. I kill her smile with the motion of my hand, placing my forefinger to my temple and pulling an imaginary trigger.
“Or not.” She frowns.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Tom chuckles at Laurie, “we both know what the situation is. Ellie; I want one dance before you ditch me.”
“Fine,” I say with a wave of my hand, “propriety demands it.”
“Is that all?” Laurie exclaims, “Is that the best either of you are willing to do?”
“What?” Tom laughs, “Did you think this whole thing was going to turn into something? C’mon, Laurie; all of us knew this was basically an arranged marriage.”
“Set up by you,” I smirk at Laurie, “to get your loser friend and your loser brother together, hoping that two losers would somehow find a spark in their loser-dom.”
“We’re like, polar-opposite losers,” Tom laughed, and looked at me straight in the eye for the first time, “I’m a virgin who spends his nights in front of a computer screen, and she’s the slut who ruined football.”
“I am not a slut!” I laugh.
“Jordan, Trey, Carver, Joe, Blake, Eric, Ryan, Carl, Alex, Ollie, Anders, Frank, both Johns and all three Maxes;” Tom smiled wryly, “but I guess you’re just generous.”
“Half of them were at once,” I smirk, and lean forward, “so if we’re going but the number of times, and not the number of dicks…”
“I’m going to let you think about what you just said,” Tom says, resting her arms behind his head and leaning back, “until the realization strikes you.”
“Well, I can tell you one thing,” I say with a pursing of my lips and a raise of my brow, “one of those names will never be ‘Tom.’”
“I’m not a big fan of herpes anyway.”
“You must not be a fan of pussy at all,” I shoot back, “or you would’ve gotten some by now. Are you sure you’re not a closet homo? It’s 2017, Tom; you can come out.”
“ENOUGH!” Laurie yells, her face red with anger, “I fucking tried, OK? I tried with both of you, and all I get is this bullshit. Tom, you’re never getting laid if you don’t grow a sack. Ellie, people don’t hate you because of the football thing, they hate you because you’re an entitled bitch.”
Laurie gives us each a final, disdainful look, and then leaves for her room in a huff. I turn my eyes back to Tom, but Tom’s not paying attention to me. No, Tom is looking right at Laurie’s ass. Tom, Tom, Tom; you dirty boy, you. You thought I was the depraved, sexual deviant? Well, it looks like I’m not alone. Maybe we do have something in common.
“Tom,” I say in my sweetest voice, “how long have you wanted to fuck your little sister?”
Tom jolts up and his face flushes a deep crimson. I stare levelly into his eyes, my knowing smile taunting him. I see his mind try to concoct the retort that will magically refute my accusation, but the gears just aren’t shifting right.
“You were just staring right at her ass,” I giggle, “and it wasn’t a passing glance either.”
“N-n-no I wasn’t!” Tom stammers.
“Oh, Tom,” I smile, and lean forward just a bit more, “you said I was a slut, and you were right. I’m not good at math, science or history, but I’m a fucking PHD in men. I know what they want just by the look in their eyes, and your eyes were practically reflecting Laurie’s ass.”
Tom stares dumfounded at me for a second. Then he puts his hands into his lap, and looks down at them in embarrassment.
“Please don’t say anything,” he mutters, “she’s all I’ve got.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than say something,” I smirk, and scooch into the chair next to him, “I’m going to help you fuck her.”
Now would probably be a good time to pause the conversation and describe Laurie to you. I bet you thought I’d be the subject of this story’s perversions, and I’ll still play my part, but centerstage is going to be The Baker Sibling’s Taboo Extravaganza. But I digress; Laurie looks a lot like Tom, if you take out the lanky awkwardness and replace it with seventeen-year-old jailbait. Brown, curly hair flows from her head in a delightful coil of bouncing strands, and a set of big, blue eyes, luscious lips, high cheekbones, a cleft chin, and a cut jawline structure her face. She’s about an inch taller than me, maybe five-seven, but doesn’t bare the curves I have. Her neck is long and elegant, her shoulders are narrow and dainty, her arms are-yadda, yadda, yadda; let’s talk about her tits and ass. Laurie has a cute set of breasts, maybe b-cups, but they fill out her chest nicely and perk like they should. Her ass is well-shaped, and perches nicely atop her thighs, but it doesn’t bare the vulgar suppleness of my own (if I do say so myself). It looks good in a pair of leggings, and jiggles when she walks, but more importantly, it’s proportional to the rest of her frame. Laurie wouldn’t best be described as ‘skinny,’ more like ‘athletic.’ Think the body type of female soccer players, and you’ll get the picture. Anyway, I believe Tom was about to yell in shock.
“What?!” Tom yells in shock.
“Be quiet, Tommy,” I giggle, “or you’ll ruin the whole thing.”
“You’re not going to tell her a fucking thing!” Tom hisses, “I’ll-I’ll-I’ll-”
“You’ll-you’ll-you’ll-” I stammer back mockingly, “you’ll what? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll kill you.” Tom says, and grabs the steak knife from the cutlery block. He holds out the blade threateningly, and I notice that it’s not shaking in the least.
“What are you going to do with that?” I smirk, and shift my body closer to him.
“Say you had a breakdown,” Tom whispers, his voice dead-even, “that you made a lunge for me with the chef’s knife. People would believe it; you’re an ostracized whore with no friends except for Laurie; people would believe you went off the rails.”
My smile widens and I lean closer, until our faces are just inches apart. My breasts press against his chest and my hand moves toward his wrist.
“You don’t have the balls,” I whisper, “you wouldn’t hurt a fl-”
The cold blade presses against my neck, and Tom twists it until the point pierces the skin. I feel a drop of blood leak from the spot and run down my cleavage. My breath stops short, and my hand ceases it’s advance toward Tom’s wrist. He’s looking at me levelly, without a hint of doubt in his steely, blue eyes. He’s not fucking around; he’ll actually fucking do it. And reader, it turns me on like nothing ever has.
“Wow,” I whisper, “you really would do it, wouldn’t you?”
Tom doesn’t answer, he just keeps the knife pressed to my throat, and stares daggers into me. His threatening regard is seeped with a cold determination that leaves me feeling helpless and at his mercy. A shudder runs through me as I revel in my vulnerability. A vacant ache permeates from my depths, and compels my body to leak with readiness between my thighs.
“You can put the knife down,” I say softly, “I won’t tell her.”
“I don’t believe you.” Tom says.
“Are you going to kill me?” I ask, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“I’m thinking about it.” Tom responds, his voice dead and void of emotion, his hand steady and pressing threateningly. It occurs to me that Tom might be a bonafide ‘Dexter Morgan’ psychopath, and that I might be playing a very dangerous game right now. I just hope he wants to lose his virginity more than his murder cherry.
“Tom,” I whisper, my voice dripping with need, “fuck me.”
I never knew this about myself. I never knew there was a cold-blooded animal living beneath the guise of nervous adolescence. But here he was, keeping my knife steady, calming my nerves and filling me with singular focus. I could do it. I could just push the knife three inches forward, and that would be it. Eleanor is scared, but not terrified. No, she looks…excited; interesting. It’s not a secret that Eleanor takes meds for some kind of disorder (God only knows what), and she certainly exhibits a dangerous level of thrill-seeking behavior. Maybe, I could just say she finally went off the rails and slit her own-
“Tom,” she whispers, interrupting my train of thought; her green eyes staring, her red lips quivering, “fuck me.”
The cold-blooded killer inside me meets his hot-blooded counterpart. They gage each other, hash out terms, and then decide on a course of action. I draw the knife gently down Eleanor’s neck, and let the blade rest between her breasts. She shudders in excitement, her lips curl in a hungry smile, and her eyes stare with wanton lust. I bring the knife down, and cut through the pink tank top that constrains her bulging bust. The blade slices through her bra, and her pale tits burst from their prison in a jiggle. She leans forward, cautiously moving, letting the point of the knife slide down her flat abdomen and to the waist band of her leggings. She slowly climbs on my lap and straddles me, and then begins delicately undoing my belt. I slice through her waistband, and she spreads her legs, tearing the cut down the crotch of her leggings until her white panties are exposed. There’s a noticeable dark spot deep in her crotch, and I know that she’s not faking her desire. I put the knife down on the table, and she unzips my fly. Her cool, thin fingers wrap around my throbbing cock, and she sighs and broadens her smile.
“I want you to fuck me like you want to kill me,” she whispers, “don’t be nice, Tommy-boy.”
“I won’t be.”
I grab her by the throat and push her backwards on the table. She cries out in delight and spreads her legs further, tearing what’s left of her leggings all the way down her crotch. Her pelvis still presses against my lap, and it forces her back into an uncomfortable, concave arch. I stand up, bringing her pelvis with me, and then drive my hand under her waistband. My fingers press to the moist, tender flesh of her pussy, and I slide the middle and ring inside. Her eyes flash wide open, and her red lips part to yield a moan. Her thighs press together and grind with need around my invading wrist. I push my thumb against her clit and curl my fingers upward inside her. I rub my pinching digits; my fingers pressing against her inner wall, my thumb toying with her erogenous bump. She bites her lower lip and gyrates her hips in pleasure. Moans seep from her whorish mouth, and she stares at me with an expression that drives me mad: vulnerability. She’s under my control, and I can do whatever I want to her. She wants me to do whatever I want to her.
I take my fingers out, press my tip to her frothing slit, and push all the way in. Eleanor digs the back of her head into the table, her neck striates with tendons, and her upper-back lifts in the air. An exerted growl flows from her lips, and she flexes her vaginal muscles around me. I take a moment to savor the wet, tight heat of her pussy clenching about my cock, and then I grab her hips, pull out to the tip, and ram into her all the way. This time she cries out, and I press my palm roughly against her mouth to shut her the fuck up. She licks my hand in defiant lechery, and I squeeze one of her breasts in retaliation. The supple flesh protrudes around my fingers, and the nipple stands firm against my thumb. Her combative regard falters, and her submissive self takes over. She moans again, and guides my thumb and finger to pinch her. I twist her nipple and pull it from her body, and she squeals a muffled tone of approval.
I thrust again, and again and again, always pulling out to the head, and then driving until my balls slap against her fat ass. Her body lurches back and forth across the table, her breasts jiggle to the beat of my drives, her thighs ripple with the impact of my lust. Her eyes bare nothing but submissive desire, and I stare into them with my domineering possessiveness. She’s mine, my toy, my little slut.
“You’re a fucking whore, you know that?” I sneer at her as her voice rises higher and higher around my hand, “Nobody ever liked you, Ellie; they just wanted easy pussy.”
Eleanor cries something out from under my hand, but I just squeeze her cheeks harder.
“You’re the school cum-dumpster, and now I finally get my turn,” I grin as she screams out in pleasure from my rapidly-driving cock, “you should get a tramp stamp on your back that just says ‘take a number.’”
Eleanor may or may not be registering what I’m saying. Her eyes are starting to roll back in her head, and her jaw is slackening. I take my hand off her mouth and listen to the sweet chorus of her desperate, moaning breaths. They’re growing faster and shorter, until they’re nothing but pants mixing with squeals. I grab her other breast and pinch the free nipple. I pull back with both hands, and watch as the supple, jiggling flesh stretches to conical points. Her chest lifts forward with my pull, and her head drives harder into the table. A scream of delight erupts from her mouth, but I don’t care enough to silence it. I fuck her faster and faster, harder and harder, until our pelvises are smacking together in fury of slapping blasts, and the table is shaking dangerously. Her pussy is clenching and twitching with sporadic convulsions, and her voice is rising to a near-constant stream of ecstasy. I growl and plow into her harder and harder, not caring if I’m hurting her, but hoping I am. My cock drives through her tight wetness; parting her inner resistances and breaking her in. She’s thrashing now; her shoulders shimmying in a possessed dance, her hips gyrating, her abdomen flexing. Her screams are rough and exerted, as though she’s in the midst of great physical strain. I feel her convulsions rise to a churning torrent inside her, and I thrust one last time. Her entire back arches from the table, her shoulders pin back, and her thighs lock around my hips. A single, breathless sound passes her gaping lips, and then she squirts all over me. I blow inside her with a cathartic roar, and collapse on top of her as she finally finds her voice. She screams out her euphoria, and digs her nails into my back as she’s taken by it. I drive the last bit of myself into her, and her scream subsides to a whimper. We breathe heavily on the table for a moment, and then look into each other’s eyes.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, “Tom, that was the best I’ve ever-”
I kiss her deeply. My lips push against the red outline of her mouth, and my tongue slides into it. She locks tongues with me, and glides a hand into the curls of my hair. I relish the feeling of her sweating, hot body pressing against my own, and the needful way she kisses me, and then I part.
“That still needs a little bit of work,” she giggles, “but Tom, you fuck like a champ.”
“Sorry I said those things about you,” I smile bashfully, “I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t you ever fucking apologize to me!” she hisses, and grabs my jaw, “That weak little boy that says ‘sorry’ over everything is gone. I want the crazy motherfucker who almost killed me.”
“Crazy motherfucker it is.” I grin, and kiss her again. This time, I don’t kiss her gently; I kiss her like I fucked her. My lips feed greedily upon hers, and my tongue drives hedonistically into her mouth. She wrestles with it, and loses, and I placate what’s left of her with my domineering lust. When I part from her, her lips are still open, and her eyes are closed in bliss.
“Much better,” she whispers, and licks her lips, “much, much better.”
“Clean it off.” I demand as I pull out of her. My cum dribbles from her desecrated slit, runs along her taint and pools in the puckered rim of her asshole. She smiles up at me and purrs like a cat while she gets to her knees on the table. She lowers her head, wraps her luscious, red lips about me, and takes my entire length down her throat. She gags when she gets to my base, looks up at me with those bright, green eyes, and swallows. I groan and pet her scarlet hair as she cleans me in one suck, from base to tip. Her lips free my cock with a satisfied smack, and she leaves me with a parting kiss on its head.
“So,” she smiles coyly, “what are we going to do about your little sister?”
“I told you,” I growl, “we’re not doing anything.”
“Yes, we are,” she giggles, “you and I are going to do everything to her. I thought you were a cold-blooded killer, Tom? Take what you want; let’s share your sister between us.”
“I can still kill you.”
“DNA evidence everywhere, Tommy-boy,” she smirks, and licks a fingertip covered in my cum, “your alibi wouldn’t really work too well for you.”
“I’m not ruining my relationship with my sister by trying to fuck her,” I growl, “there’s not a single chance in hell Laurie would go for it.”
“Tom, I know Laurie in ways you don’t.” Eleanor whispers to me as she presses her body against mine, “I’ve seen her at parties, and I’ve seen her with boys. She withers away in the presence of a controlling man; she can’t help herself. And you, my dear,” Eleanor smiles as her hands clasp about my cock, “are a very controlling man.”
“Why do you want to this happen so bad?” I ask her.
“Because I’m fucked up,” she smirks, “and I want to see good, socially-adjusted people demean themselves and come down to my level. You’re fucked up too, Tom; just as fucked up as me. I’ll warm up Laurie for you, and then you come in and take her.”
“Rape her?!” I growl.
“Initially, maybe,” Eleanor smiles, “but when we’re done with her, she’ll be begging for more. C’mon, boyfriend; let’s turn your precious, sweet, little sister into our whore.”
I didn’t actually expect everything to work out perfectly between Eleanor and Tom, but I had hoped something would happen. But no, they just reverted to their lowest selves, and shit all over my plan. Fucking Tom; how hard is it to fuck Eleanor O’Reilly?
Gojira’s heavy anthem Backbone blasts in my earbuds as I try to study. Tom could use a fucking backbone. I nod my head to the driving rhythm and then stop when I see a blur of scarlet enter my field of vision. Eleanor’s head pops out from the side of the doorframe. She motions with one hand for me to take out my earbuds, and I begrudgingly remove only one.
“Hey, Laurie?” she says, almost bashfully.
“What?” I shoot back, my voice full of venom.
“I need new clothes.” She smiles.
“Because,” she says and steps into the doorframe, “your brother fucking ruined mine.”
Eleanor’s tank top has been cut down the middle, her bra is sliced in two, and the crotch of her leggings is torn past her ass crack, exposing her wrinkled, soaked panties to me. Tom had done it; he’d actually fucking done it!
“Oh-my-god!” I squeal, “Oh my god, Ellie; you have to tell me everything! Come in here!”
Eleanor walks through the door and sits next to me on the bed. I sit upright and paw through my drawers for something that will fit her curves.
“So,” I smile to her, “give me the details.”
“Do you really want to hear about your brother?” Eleanor laughs, “That’s kind of fucked-up, Laurie.”
“Don’t be gross,” I giggle, and toss a t-shirt over her face, “I just want to know how he did.”
“Well,” Eleanor says as she pulls the shirt off her face, “he was rough.”
“I can see that,” I laugh, looking at her destroyed clothes, “did he use scissors or something?”
“A knife.” Eleanor responds.
“A knife?!” I exclaim, “That’s fucking kinky.”
“He was so…aggressive,” Eleanor says, almost moaning as she recalls the affair, “like a switch went off in his head, and all of the sudden, he was a different boy…a different man.”
“Did he take control?” I ask, throwing her a pair of leggings, “Was he all possessive and dominating?”
“Yessss,” Eleanor hisses, “he just…cut my clothes off and took me on the table. He called me a whore, called me the school cum-dumpster, and ravaged me like I’d never been before. Mmm, Laurie; he was so fucking good!”
The tone of Eleanor’s voice worries me slightly. I turn around and see that she hasn’t put on a single piece of clothing. In fact, she has her panties down her thighs and is now touching herself. Three fingers slide to the knuckles inside her, and my brother’s cum leaks out between them. What the fuck.
“Ellie, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask levelly.
“What does it look like?” she giggles, spreading her legs wide for me to see, “I’m playing with your brother’s cum.”
“Can you…not?” I ask, wondering what the fuck is going on with her. Eleanor is a slut, there’s no doubt about that, but this is just fucking bizarre.
“Hmm,” Eleanor smiles, “I don’t think I can.”
She takes a single index finger from her pussy, and places it between her lips. She looks me right in the eyes as she slowly, seductively, sucks my brother’s cum from her finger.
“He’s delicious,” she whispers, “you should try some.”
“Oooookaaaay…” I say, stepping back from her, “you guys obviously did drugs. I’ll just…get you some water and let you sleep in my bed tonight.”
“Won’t you join me?” she asks, her hand running through her red, trimmed mound, “We can do that thing we did sophomore year. Remember that?”
“Yeah, I remember not liking it,” I say, grabbing my water bottle and walking cautiously to her, “now I know pussy just isn’t for me.”
“Give it another chance,” she moans, and spreads her pussy wide with a two-fingered ‘v,’ “I want you to taste him.”
“Ellie,” I say, and hand her the water bottle, “you just need to get some rest-”
Eleanor grabs my outstretched arm and throws me on the bed. I flail for a second, and then land on my stomach.
“Ellie, what the fuck are you-”
She pushes my face into the pillow and crams her hand into my leggings. I scream as I feel her fingers sliding between my ass crack. I push my palms into the mattress and drive upward, but she quickly straddles my lower back and forces me back down. I whip my head around and stare my anger and terror into her eyes, but she just smiles back, and pushes her fingers further through the crease of my ass.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she smiles sadly, “but I need you to do this for me.”
I lash my hand out, but she’s too far away. I twist against her weight, but it’s no use. I’m pinned on my stomach, and at her mercy.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I scream, “What fucking drugs did you two take?!”
“We didn’t do any drugs,” she smiles, “I’m sober. Just relax, Laurie; I’ll take care of you.”
Her fingers slink past my asshole, and then tease it with a circling tip. My eyes widen in terror, and I trash uselessly against her.
“Tom!” I scream, “Tom, help me! She’s raping me! She’s raping me!”
“Tom knows,” Eleanor giggles, all of her fingers now circling the rim of my ass, “he’s waiting for you to get nice and ready for him.”
“What?!” I scream.
“Your brother wants to fuck you, Laurie,” Eleanor laughs, “and I’m going to convince you to do it.”
And with that, Eleanor pushes three fingers into my asshole. I screech into the pillow as I feel my rim stretch wide. She digs deeper and deeper, and then rests her raping digits against the wall of my anus.
“Are you a virgin here?” Eleanor muses, “I thought you would have let Ryan back here at least once, but you’re so tight. Tom’s going to fuck you here, Laurie, and he is packing heat, so I’ll need to loosen you up first.”
“Eleanor, stop!” I scream, now crying tears of pain, “Please!”
“I love you too much to stop, Laurie,” Eleanor smiles, “you’ve stuck with me through everything, even when everyone else abandoned me. Now, I’m going to help you through this; it will make us closer than ever.”
“You’re fucking insane!” I whisper, “Ellie; you need help!”
“Maybe,” Eleanor moans as she pushes her fingers deeper, “or maybe, I just need friends who are as fucked-up as I am.”
I grit my teeth and growl in strain as knuckle after knuckle is forced deep inside me. She lubricates my sodomy with my own brother’s cum, and I can feel his hot seed melting into my tender inner flesh. She withdraws slowly, letting my asshole pop in constriction about each knuckle, and then she pushes in again, this time adding another finger. The pain slowly recedes as I adjust to the girth of her four fingers, and I stop thrashing under her weight. It’s uncomfortable for a while, and though I squirm in protest, my defiance is noticeably dispirited. And then…then it starts to feel good. A deep, filling pressure expands in my tightest hole, and sends unfamiliar, new, tingles deep into my colon. The feeling is so invasive, so wrong, and yet, so good. A whimper brushes past my lips, and I clasp my hand over my mouth before it turns to a moan.
“Do you like it?” Eleanor asks, genuine hope in her voice, “I like having one in each, myself. I practice every night; mostly in the mirror, but sometimes for strangers on the internet. They don’t know they’re breaking the law, and it turns me on to watch them get off to a seventeen year old whore like me.”
Slowly, gently, Eleanor stretches my rim wide open. I stop squirming beneath her, and just murmur tones of protest under my breath. In and out, in and out; she pushes her entire fist into me, and then withdraws, pulling out some of my pink, inner flesh with each retreat. I hum a single, desperate tone as I clench my jaw and tighten my eyes. I’m trying to hold back the sound that wants to come out, trying with all my might. Eleanor pulls out, pinches her fingers together, and then pushes in all the way to the wrist. My rim screeches with tortuous delight, and I can’t help myself. I cry out into the pillow and sob with want.
“Deeper!” I scream. Eleanor laughs merrily, and obliges.
“I thought you might like it back here,” Eleanor coos, her other hand gently massaging my lower back, “but let me tell you, dearest friend: a cock is much better than my hand. Should I get Tom in here?”
“No!” I scream, but I can’t stop the moan from mixing with it.
“Tom,” Eleanor calls over her shoulder, “she’s ready for you!”
I hear the approaching footsteps of my older brother. Now, I do try to get free. I thrash and squirm beneath Eleanor with all my might, but she just shifts her weight on top of me and subdues me at every turn, all the while sinking her wonderful hand deeper and deeper into my newfound erogenous zone. Tom walks into the doorframe, staring at me, wearing nothing at all. He’s huge. It’s throbbing and curved upward in anticipation, and I reel back in terror and arousal. The latter feeling alarms me; I can’t want my brother, can I?
“Hey, Laurie,” Tom smiles with uncharacteristic confidence, “nice to see you’ve been getting along with my new girlfriend.”
“She was my friend before we were ever a thing,” Eleanor smirks at Tom, “come see what I’ve done to her for you.”
I stare over my shoulder in horror as Tom kneels between my legs on the bed, and looks at the hand that’s buried in my asshole.
“She’s prolapsed a little,” Tom smiles at Eleanor, “you weren’t very nice.”
“She loved it.” Eleanor smiles back, and then kisses Tom deeply. Their lips lock and suck in hedonistic splendor as their fingers entangle in each other’s hair. I’ve never seen a kiss so carnal, so lecherously vulgar in my life. They’re perfect for each other, and somehow, it makes me jealous. I suppress that thought as best I can, but it still lingers. Part of me wants the fire of their lust, to be taken by it, and then, to join in. No, Tom is your brother, Laurie; you have to fight! This is all wrong, all so fucking wrong!
“Tom,” I sob, “don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”
“Sorry, sis,” Tom smiles, and then guides Eleanor’s hand out of my rim, “you just have to get through the hard part, and it’ll all be better.”
Knuckle by knuckle, Eleanor’s hands withdraws. I feel myself coming out with her, and I grit my teeth and growl in agonizing delight. Her last digit pulls from my ruined gape, and I feel my insides flow out of me. I scream and look back in horror as my asshole protrudes in a bud of pink flesh. God, it feels good. Eleanor giggles in delight and claps her hands as Tom reaches forward.
“Don’t!” I scream, but to no avail. My older brother pushes his fingers against the outturned, shiny, pink flesh of my ass, and gently squeezes. The ball of internal nerves blasts their signals up my spine, and I scream out in abject pleasure. My thighs tense, my toes curl, and I come. I come in a ferocious rip that sends my back arching in a wrenching curve with its axis pivoted about my subdued pelvis. I erupt a stream of feminine juices from my urethra and soak the bed beneath me. My hands claw at the sheets, and I scream louder and louder. I don’t even notice that Eleanor is stroking my hair until after the feeling is gone, and my body relaxes in involuntary submission.
“There, there,” she whispers lovingly, “that was just a taste of what’s to come. Are you ready, Laurie?”
I stare up at Eleanor from the tops of my eyes, and look back at Tom behind her. His demeanor is so foreign; it’s like he’s a completely different person. But he’s still my brother, and no matter how good it felt, what he did was wrong. I can’t. I can’t do this. But what choice do I have? He’s going to fuck me no matter what I say or do, I can see it in his eyes. Still, I have my dignity. I won’t say I want it. I’ll never say I like it.
“You people are fucking sick,” I whisper, “I hate both of you.”
“Don’t be so mean, Laurie,” Eleanor giggles as she tousles my hair, “you’ll regret saying that in a few minutes. Tom; fuck your little, bitchy sister.”
I line up my shot, press my tip to Laurie’s prolapsed asshole, and tease her with it; prodding her tender, pink folds with my rigid heat. She moans and pushes her face into the pillow to suppress the sounds of her pleasure. Eleanor runs a loving hand through my sister’s hair, and then looks down at my cock, and nods. Slowly, gently, I guide myself in. First, I push her rosebud back inside her, and she whimpers. Then, my tip stretches the tight, pink rim of her asshole, and she moans. Inch by inch I push deeper inside her, and inch by inch, her back arches from the bed. Her moans rise in their intensity with every bit I push, until my pelvis presses against the fat of her cheeks, and my balls rest on the frothing surface of her slit. Her shoulders pin together, her head rises from the pillow, and she looks back at me. Those blue eyes, my eyes, stare back at me, and they’re pleading, but not pleading for me to stop. No, pleading for me to keep going.
So, I do. I pull out to the tip, and then push in again, and again, and again. Every drive of my hips loosens her resisting inner muscles, until she’s not fighting me at all. Every drive sends her neck reeling back and her lips opening wide. Every drive forces her hands to unclench about the sheets she’s grasping, until they’re relaxed and flat against the bedding. And with every violent drive, her voice loses more of its defiance, and gains more of its pleasure. Now, she’s not just staying loose for me, but clenching and embracing me as I enter her. Now, she’s not flexing her glutes about me, but reaching back with her own hands and spreading them wider. Now, she’s not lying static and whimpering, but driving her hips back against me. Now, she’s not my precious little sister, but my moaning lover. I can see it in the way she looks at me; her mouth agape, her lips quivering and smiling at the corners, her eyes drunk with lust, and her brow furrowed at the peak of her face. She’s mine; all mine.
“You can get off her, Ellie,” I smile to my sadistic girlfriend, “she’s not going to fight us anymore.”
I love a controlling man. I love a man who takes charge of the situation, and imposes his will on me. Usually, that means I like it when a man gets too worked-up and just takes me, but now, I know what it really means: I’m a submissive whore. Tom imposed his will on me, my own brother, and here I am, with his cock seven-inches in my ass, moaning for him while I spread myself wide. I’m disgusted in myself, I even hate myself a little, but I can’t deny the part of me that loves it. The rational half of my mind is telling me this is abhorrent, disgusting and wrong, but the other half, the one that just loves a controlling man, is reveling in this depravity for the exact same reasons. That half absolutely delights in how sick and twisted this whole situation is, and the longer I try to endure the pleasure, the more that half takes control. I’m a mess of duality right now, but ‘luckily’ for me, Eleanor is playing therapist as she straddles my back.
“Just say you like it, Laurie,” she whispers in my ear, “and I’ll get off you, and you can enjoy yourself.”
“Fuck you.” I whisper back, my words interrupted by a constant stream of moans.
“You’re in denial,” she giggles, and runs her hands through my hair, “you can’t even stop yourself from moaning. Just say it: you’re a depraved slut who likes it in the ass from her own brother.”
“No.” I mutter, my moans now morphing into exerted groans as I twist my asshole around my brother’s driving cock.
“Be like me, Laurie,” she whispers in my ear, her breath tickling my lobe, “there’s no shame in it if you have no shame.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask, feeling tears of pleasure welling in my eyes.
“Because you’re my best and only friend, and I need someone who not only accepts who I am, but also participates in the fucked-up things I want to do.” she whispers, “And also, corrupted innocence is a huge turn on for me. I get off watching people go against their morals and fall to their baser desires.”
“You’re a sick piece of shit.” I snap at her, but I can’t stop myself from arching my back and clenching around Tom’s cock.
“So are you, Laurie,” she whispers into my ear, her tongue flicking against my lobe, “now be a sick piece of shit with me, and I’ll eat your pussy.”
It’s too much, too much to take. My mind melts in the heat of my rising pleasure, and the temptation to give in becomes overwhelming. I stare into the loving, green eyes of my best friend, and I confess. I throw away the last of my pride, and accept who I really am.
“I like it.” I whisper.
“What was that?” Eleanor smiles with a raised eyebrow.
“I like it.” I moan, and push my ass hard against Tom’s ramming pelvis.
“I need a little more than that,” Eleanor smirks as she ruffles my hair, “you can do better.”
“I’m a little anal slut,” I whisper, “I’m a little anal slut who likes to fuck her brother.”
“Say it like you mean it.” She sneers.
“I’m my brother’s anal slut!” I scream, “Now eat my fucking pussy, you bitch!”
Eleanor laughs and dismounts my back. She grasps my shirt as I whip upward, and my top is pulled off in a single swipe. I press my naked back against my brother’s heaving chest and look up at him with lust etched across my face. He looks back at me with a possessive desire that bores into my soul. He wants me so bad, and I want him too. I want the kind of fire he and Eleanor have, I want to burn in his passion.
“Kiss me,” I whisper to him as he drives relentlessly into my ruined asshole, “kiss me like you kissed her.”
He does. His lips press against my own, and his tongue pushes into my mouth. I suck his lips as he devours me. It’s sloppy, and wet, and so good. My body surrenders to him; my muscles relax, my insides unclench, and my resistances break down. His kiss radiates through my mouth and seduces every inch of me. I’m his; I’m his little whore.
He grabs the underside of my thighs and pulls my legs forward. Eleanor dips her head into my crotch and pulls my leggings to my knees. Tom parts from our kiss just in time for me to see Eleanor look up at me with her tongue out, before she buries it into my folds. My brow furrows, a moan seeps through my lips, and I push her closer with both hands. Tom leans back, and I fall into his lap. His cock impales me upon impact, and I squeal in delight and drive Eleanor’s face deeper into my crotch. Her nose squishes against my pelvis, her lips puff against my slit, and her tongue pushes further inside me. She muffles a tone of lechery, looks up at me, and smiles from around my curly mound. Her lips suck the tender folds of my dripping cunt, and draw the flesh into her mouth while her tongue pushes between them. My head falls back and rests on Tom’s shoulder as I pant pathetic breaths of ecstasy. He lifts me off his lap and surges upward with a jackhammer of violent thrusts. The sudden fervency of his sex shocks my body into a writhe of twisting vertebrae and gyrating hips. I wail to the ceiling, screaming a fluctuating note that wanes with every pull, and shrills with every drive.
“Oh my god, Tom!” I screech.
“Make her come, Tom,” Eleanor giggles as she parts from my slit, strings of my viscous juices bridging her red lips, “make your whore sister come from her ass.”
Tom grabs my face by the cheeks and forces my gaze to him.
“Is that what you are?” he smiles, “Are you my little whore sister?”
“Yes,” I whimper, nodding compliantly as I revel in his degradation, “I’m your anal slut.”
“You’re just a sick cunt who wants her brother to fuck her ass, aren’t you?” he growls as he power-fucks my ass into a churning mess of chaotic pleasure.
“Yes!” I scream, dropping my ass onto his driving cock as I rise in orgasm, “I’m your bitch! I’m a depraved whore! I’m your slave!”
“My slave?!” Tom laughs, and grips my breasts with a covetous squeeze, “So, you’ll do anything I want?”
“Anything.” I whisper, smiling with half-mast eyes. I would do anything for my older brother, especially in this state.
“Your master orders you to come.” He smiles.
“Thank you, master.” I smile back, and surrender myself to the feeling building inside me.
Tom grips my thighs until the fat protrudes from his knuckles. He spreads them wide, and I anchor my feet outside of his knees, locking my shaking legs in a wide squat. I push Eleanor’s face harder into my pelvis, and growl as her tongue presses against the spot on my vaginal ceiling. Beneath her chin, my nectar is leaking from my slit, sliding down my taint, and lubricating my ferocious sodomy. My asshole is a gaping ruin, and screaming its relentless abuse into the pleasure centers of my mind. My abs flex, my shoulders pinch back, my head falls onto my brother’s shoulder, and my heart races. A torrent of convulsions churns in my depths and the two pleasures of Tom and Eleanor mix within the tempest that rises from my pelvis. It’s a pressure that grows and grows, and my voice carries from my mouth with the rising feeling. My body lurches to the violent drive of Tom’s hips, sending my breasts and ass jiggling into a chaotic blur of rippling flesh. He’s driving so fast I think I’ll break in two, and as the pain reaches its precipice, so does my lustful assent. I screech out, buck my hips, and shower Eleanor with my release. The feeling erupts inside me, and every part of my body seizes in a clenching ruin. Tom smashes his pelvis against me, roars out, and comes in my ass. I sob in delight as his spunk rushes through my desecrated insides. He holds me high in the air; his pelvis pivoted against my ass, his back shaking in strain, and then we collapse onto the bed in an awkward bounce. Heavy breaths and glistening skin mingle with the sweet stench of sex. I ease into a blissful state of gratification; the endorphins seeping into my mind as an evolutionary reward. My body doesn’t care that what I just did was wrong at every level, and neither does my mind. It was the best I ever had. I snuggle up against the heat of my brother, and sigh a tone of satisfaction. I am his, and his alone.
“Wow,” Eleanor whispers, staring up at me with her head resting in my lap, “that was beautiful.”
“You were amazing, Sis,” Tom says breathily against my neck, “you were so-”
“You fucking raped me!” I snarl at him. Tom’s eyes droop in crestfallen shame, and I can’t keep up the façade.
“And I fucking loved it,” I breathe onto his lips, searching his eyes, “how long have you thought about me this way?”
“Forever,” Tom smiles, “always. Did you ever…?”
“I mean…” I giggle, “the thought has crossed my mind, but it was just my brain making connections from ‘a’ to ‘b,’ you know? Like: Tom is a man, men have penises, I like penises, Tom has a penis. It was never an actual thought.”
“And now?” he asks me, pumping his still-erect cock into my ass.
My head falls, and a moan escapes my lips. I can’t come back from this, and I know it. This has ruined me, changed me forever, and I’ll have to adjust to the new reality.
“Eleanor, can you (ahhh) can you (fffuuuck), can you give me my phone?” I ask through increasing moans of pleasure.
Eleanor looks at me inquisitively, and then tosses me my phone. I unlock the touchscreen, page to my contacts, and select the number I’m looking for. Dial tone, and then an answer.
“Hey, Babe,” Ryan’s voice says through the speaker, “you wanna come over tonight and-”
“I’m breaking up with you, Ryan,” I say as evenly as I can through my moans, “don’t call me again; it’s not you, it’s me.”
“Laurie, what the fu-”
“I found someone better.” I hang up the phone, toss to the side and stare at my brother with a twisted smile on my face.
“Does that answer your question?” I ask coyly.
“It does,” Tom smirks back, and then leans against me, “he was a douche anyway.”
“Holy shit, that was cold.” Eleanor exclaims, staring at me in awe, “And you called me a bitch!”
“You said you wanted friends as fucked-up as you are,” I laugh, and grind my ass against my thrusting brother, “well, now you’ve got them.”
“You’re not that fucked up.” Eleanor sneers.
“I just fucked my brother.”
“Ehhhh, you kind of got forced into it,” Eleanor retorts, “so it doesn’t really count.”
“Oh?” I smirk, and pull away from my brother. He pops out my ass with a sheath of my anal flesh still wrapped about him, and I yelp in delight as I’m turned inside-out again. I level my gaze on him, and crawl backward as I lick my lips. He raises an eyebrow at me, and gets on his back, and I do the rest. I look at him from the tops of my eyes as my tongue rests between his balls. I lick my way up, savoring the throbbing pulse of his sack, and then rest the tip of my tongue against his base. I draw it slowly along his underside, tasting his delicious cum and the sweet tang of my ass on his cock. When I get to the top, I wrap my lips around him, and take him slowly into my throat. His head falls back against the bedding, and he groans in satisfaction. I giggle at his loss of equanimity, and suck hard as I lower my head. He reaches the resistance of my throat, and I loosen for him, before taking him all the way in. I gag when I reach his base, but I don’t pull out. I rotate my lips, suckling the rigid skin of his loins, and then slowly draw up. His cum pools in my mouth and I keep it there until my lips close together at his tip. He looks up at me, and I stare at him. Then, I swallow.
“I fucking love you, Laurie.” He whispers.
I kiss the tip of his cock, and watch in rapt delight as it sways from side to side. Then, I look at him and smile broadly.
“I love you too, big brother.” I smile endearingly.
“Hey,” Eleanor yells indignantly, “don’t make me the third wheel! Show me some love!”
“We both…tolerate you, Ellie.” Tom laughs at the beautiful, naked redhead.
“You are permitted to share oxygen with us,” I add, teasingly, “and also water, if you so choose to.”
“Fuck both of you guys,” Eleanor laughs, and slides her body between us, “I put this whole thing together.”
“It was my plan to start with!” I exclaim.
“Oh, this was your plan?” Eleanor laughs, and pushes my prolapse back into my ass. I shudder in pleasure for a moment, and look back at her with lustful eyes.
“Well…” I say, “no, but it was my idea to get you two together.”
“Well, that backfired.” Eleanor giggles.
“Now that you broke up with Ryan,” Tom says, “who are you going to prom with?”
“Prom is fucking stupid,” I chuckle and give my brother a knowing smile, “and too expensive.”
“But you already bought your dress,” Eleanor says, “so the expensive part is out of the way.”
“I haven’t seen you in it yet,” Tom says as he pets my curly hair, “I’d like to.”
“Hmm,” I smirk, “I bet you would. Do you know what I want?”
“What?” he asks.
“I want to wear it for you,” I whisper over Eleanor’s head, “and then I want you to cut it off me.”
I can practically feel Tom’s boner pushing on Eleanor’s back and driving her pelvis against my ass. Her eyes widen and she giggles at me.
“I think you should get that dress on,” she laughs, “like, right the fuck now.”
I sit upright to go to my closet, but something stops me. Through our merriment and lust, none of us heard the car pull up in the driveway. None of heard the back-door open, and none of us heard Mom walking up the steps. It wasn’t until it was too late, when she opened my bedroom door and saw the three of us, that we knew she had come home early.