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From: Don Winslow <dwin2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Big Sister
Date: Mon, 21 Aug 2000 19:10:05 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Big Sister.txt" begin>
Big Sister Gets Hers (D/s m/F humil spnkng)
by Don Winslow
(dwin2001@Yahoo.com)
Part 1
Ronny flopped on the couch. He was bored. He turned on the TV, surfed
rapid-fire through all 53 channels, and immediately snapped it off. He got
up to roam around the quiet house, just going from room to room, aimlessly,
feeling tingly and kind of restless. It came to him: he was free in the
big house; the place was all his! For the entire day, he could do anything
that he wanted! His parents, off to see Uncle Vinne and Aunt Grace,
wouldn't be back till late. And "the bitch", as he always referred (in
private) to his snooty sister, Shelly, was with her stuck-up girlfriends,
probably hanging out at that stupid mall.
Thoughts of his big sister brought a funny feeling over the gangly
teenager. Shelly really was a pain-in-the-ass. The way she'd toss her
ponytail and stick her nose up in the air when she turned away to pointedly
ignore him, as if he were beneath her...it just burned him up. She was
sooo smart; and now that she was a big deal, being a college girl and all
-- she was too much! To hear his mother tell it, nothing her pretty little
princess could do was wrong, while he was the one who was always in trouble
for something. His parents picked on him for everything, while precious
Shelly could get away with murder.
Usually she could, anyway. But every once in a while, when his Dad
decided the kids were getting out of hand, his Dad would get mad. Then
look out! When Dad got in one of those moods, someone was going to get a
whipping, and even the bitch might get it.
Dad would take off his belt, and you knew right away. He didn't have to
say anything. You'd have to follow him to the bedroom, and there he'd make
you drop your pants and lay over the back of a big heavy chair, while he
gave you a good lickin'. Ronny was usually the one on the receiving end,
but every once in a while it was his sister who had to make the dreaded
trip to the bedroom; he just loved to listen to the sounds coming from
upstairs; her squealing and yelping each time the ol' belt whomped her
precious ass. It was music to his ears. Then, afterwards, to see her come
down the stairs, forced to rejoin the family, still sniffling back the
tears, and rubbing her hurting butt, her eyes on the floor so she wouldn't
have to see her little brother's big grin. It almost made up for all the
times he was the one to have to make the trip upstairs. Almost, but not
quite.
Of course, since she became a big deal college girl and all, she figured
she was too old to get a whippin'. But Dad had threatened her more than
once, while Ronny sat quietly at the supper table, hoping, desperately
hoping, only to be disappointed at the last minute. Still, Dad did remind
her that, in his opinion, she wasn't too big to spank, and that as long as
she lived under their roof she'd obey their rules, or else. Ronny believed
him, and so did Shelly.
But she was sneaky, and she could still get away with lots of stuff. He
knew she was a sneak; and to him, she was hopelessly stuck up -- "the
bitch". Always ready to boss him around, telling her "little brother" to
do this or do that. So, since he thoroughly detested his overbearing
sister, it came as surprise to him when he found out the other guys thought
she was one hot chick. In fact, they had agreed, of all their sisters, the
snippy blonde with the long legs was the one they'd most like to fuck.
Their words got him thinking about Shelly. Of course he'd never
consider fucking his sister; still, he had to admit, she did have nice
legs, long and smooth, so that he wanted to touch them. And she had a neat
set of tits, he recalled with a smile. Brian had called them "a pair of
doorknobs". He remembered the time they had practically bumped into each
other when she came out of the bathroom, still damp from her shower, and
wearing nothing but that thin, peach-colored robe of hers. He practically
ran into those firm boobs of her, sticking out, right up front. You could
even make out the girl's nipples, right through the thin, slightly damp,
and tightly stretched silk robe. Ronny went to bed early that night,
sporting an enormous hardon. He simply had to jack off. It took only a
few seconds of rubbing his aching prick up and down on the sheet and
thinking of those jiggling tits and those big, jutting nipples, till he
came with a shuddering explosion.
Ronny loved to spy on his older sister, something he did whenever he got
a chance. But after the eyeful he got outside of the bathroom that night,
he thought of her a lot, and he plotted his moves more much deliberately.
He waited for the chance for her to forget to close her door to her
bedroom, hoping he might be lucky enough to catch her undressing someday.
Shelly wasn't very careful, and if she was in a hurry, which she often was,
she might easily leave the door ajar. Just once was his patience rewarded,
when she raced into the house, still wearing her waitressing uniform, and
flew up the steps to hurriedly change. Peeking out from his own bedroom
across the hall, he saw his chance. She left the door open just a crack!
Stealthily, he crept out into the hall and edged closer. As he eased up to
the open door, scarcely daring to breathe, he saw her!
She had, by now, stripped down to bra and panties. The discarded
uniform, along with a pair of pantyhose, had been flung carelessly on the
bed. The slender, blond-haired girl was standing with her back to the
door, giving him a view of that tall, leggy body, banded by the bra straps
and a pair of violet panties that rode low on her hips. Barefoot, she was
stepping into a pair of jeans. As he watched, she bent over, struggling to
pull up the tight-fitting jeans. Though Ronny sometimes was lucky enough
to see his sister's bare legs in shorts, or even better when she wore those
short nighty pajamas of hers, and once or twice, he had seen her in a slip,
he had never seen her in her underwear before. He stood mesmerized by the
sight of that panty-clad bottom jutting back at him -- pale, violet colored
panties, edged in lace, the shiny fabric drawn smooth and tight over the
twin curves of Shelly's plump little behind. His prick surged in his
pants, and he reached down to touch himself.
Suddenly, the girl straightened to zipper up her snug jeans, sending her
watcher back behind the door jamb. But immediately he peered cautiously
around again, just in time to see Shelly, now in blue jeans and bra, pad
over to the chest of drawers.
He studied the flimsy brassiere, thin violet ribbons looping her slim
shoulders, a narrow band of lacy elastic spanning her smooth back, widening
under the arms to form soft, silky half-cups that cradled those small tits
of hers. And he could just see the tops of those high-set breasts, bulging
slightly, as they were pressed into the uplifting cups. He watched her
root through a jumble of T-shirts, selecting one that would do. Quickly,
he ducked back, as she turned around, pulling the T-shirt down over her
head even as she headed towards the door, stepping into her sandals on the
way. On tiptoes, he scurried back to the safety of his room, and very
cautiously closed the door behind him with a quiet click, just as he heard
Shelly's door slam shut as she started down the hall.
He had been very nearly caught, but...he had seen his sister in her
panties! The sight inspired him, leaving him excited, with a burning
curiosity, an impossibly stiff hardon, and a surprising surge of renewed
interest in his pretty blond sister. Shelly prancing around in panties and
bra was a sight he would never forget! It stayed with him, to interrupt
his thoughts when he least expected it. He took it to bed with him that
night, and for many nights thereafter. And it was a sight that drove the
randy teenager to have to see more. He kept taking chances, daring to get
a glimpse of her. He knew he was pushing his luck, but the danger made it
even more exciting. And he couldn't stop himself.
Part 2
And so that Saturday afternoon, when the bored teenager, alone in the
big house, restlessly prowled from room to room, he knew he would end up in
his sister's room. Lately, a strange feeling came over him when he entered
this room-- it was quiet and almost spooky. It was girl's bedroom. Of
course, it had always been a girl's bedroom. But it smelled differently,
kind of lemony, and the pictures of horses and meadows and whales had given
way to a huge poster of some dark-haired movie actor, a big hunk of a guy
with no shirt, and a sly, shit-eatin' grin.
Now he sensed that this bedroom held secrets, feminine secrets. There
were dresses and blouses, and slips, purses and high heeled shoes, makeup
and lipstick and nice-smelling perfume. One drawer held socks and
stockings and pantyhose, belts and scarves. He was surprised to find the
black stockings were still in there, tucked away in back. Shelly had only
had a chance to wear them once, a few years ago, when she tried to sneak
out the front door in that tight dress and those black pantyhose, and Dad
caught her at the bottom of the steps. He made her go right back up to her
room and change, grumbling to Ronny's mother that he wouldn't have his
daughter looking like some whore. At the time, Ronny was puzzled by the
remark, but Brian told him later that black pantyhose were really hot, and
now he could see the point. After sampling the misty black nylon with his
fingertips, he closed the drawer. It was the next drawer he was really
interested in -- that was where she kept her underwear.
He opened up the treasure chest and smiled. It was all there before
him: a jumble of bras and panties, slips and other lacy, feminine things.
He delved in to root through the lingerie, scooping up a pair of
cream-colored panties, fingering the slick nylon, rubbing the satiny fabric
between his fingers, savoring the delicious, sexy feel of the creamy,
frilly silk. Suddenly the thought struck him! His sister wore these
panties...next to her cunt! His sister's cunt..her twat, her pussy! The
wild thought powered his prick, which had been stiffening in his pants,
giving him an instant, full-blown hardon. With excited fingers he tore
open the front of his pants, shoving jeans and jockey shorts down to his
knees, letting his surging prick spring free in the cool air.
The smooth slick feeling of those slippery panties, wrapped around his
cock was heavenly! The hot teenager closed his fingers and pumped a few
times, slowly and experimentally. He had to be careful; he felt the rise
of pleasure, and knew he was near the edge. And he didn't want to come,
not just yet! He wanted to savor the moment, the wild, crazy sensation of
having his sister's panties wrapped around his cock, while he thought of
her cunt, and squeezed himself so tight he groaned.
"Well, lookat what I found!"
Ronny spun around at the words, his hand still holding his cock
sandwiched in the bunched panties. Shelly stood in the doorway! He had
been got caught, red-handed, with his sister's panties wrapped around his
cock!
Part 3
For an eternity, Ronny just stood there, stunned, staring incredulously
at his older sister, who had magically appeared in the doorway...catching
him jacking off ! His hand jerked away as if it had been burned, dropping
the bunched underpants to the floor. For a moment, he stood paralyzed, his
slowly expiring hardon sticking out, subjected to his sister's sneering,
superior grin. With a wave of deep embarrassment, he reached down to tuck
himself in.
"No. Leave it alone," his sister warned him, her eyes on the semi-hard
penis, sticking out obscenely and now pointed directly at her.
"Just leave it."
He looked at her doubtfully.
"You better do what I say, snot, unless you want them to know what you
were doing in my bedroom with my underwear, you dirty little sneak."
Ronny felt horrible, totally humiliated. He just wanted to die! Shelly
had him right where she wanted him, and he knew it. He stood by
helplessly, with his cock hanging out. Mortified, he felt the heat rush to
his cheeks, trying to think of something to say.
"Er., look, Shell, I'm sorry...," he stammered.
But she just smirked. The bitch! He hated that superior grin of hers!
She knew it infuriated him.
"Just shut up, snot. I'll tell. You know I'll tell. And Dad'll go
ballistic. You won't be sitting down for a week after he gets done with
you. And then I'll make sure this dirty little secret of yours gets back
to old Clinton High..."
He shuddered. The bitch was relishing every minute of this. And the
worst thing was that he knew she'd do it.
"Ah, c'mon, Shell, I'm sorry." he whined. "I won't do it again, I
promise."
The tall blond girl stood with hands on her hips, studying her brother's
shrinking cock, that now hung drooping before him.
"You know what, snot? Maybe I won't tell. Maybe this might just be our
little secret."
Ronny's hope's roller-coastered, soaring up and plunging down at her
next words.
"That is, if you do what I say, exactly what I say."
Ronny watched her turn and go back to carefully close, and then lock,
the bedroom door. Then she brought a small chair over, so she could sit
down directly in front of him.
"Now we might just make a deal, snot. Here's how it's gonna work. You
get to go ahead and finish what you were doing when I came in. And I get
to sit here and watch you doing it."
It took a while for the words to sink in. Ronny didn't move.
"I want to see you jack off, stupid," she hissed in impatience, "and you
better do it, you dirty sneak, or you know what'll happen!"
The warning was clear enough to the anxious teenager, but he still
couldn't get himself to move.
"Come on, Shell, you can't make me.."
Shelly interrupted him with that familiar tone of voice she so often
used with him -- as though she were an exasperated adult patiently
explaining things to a hopeless child..
"I can make you do any thing I want, Little Brother. And what I want
now is to see you do it. Go on. You can use my panties if you want. Go
on now, pick 'em up!"
Ronny avoided looking at her. His head hung low, and he kept his eyes
on the floor, but he did as he was told, retrieving the fallen panties and
bringing them up to his crotch. By now his hardon had expired, but the
touch of the silky wad to his shrunken cock sent an instant flash of
excitement thorough him. For a moment he held himself using the bunched
panties to sandwich his cock.
"Do it, Ronny. Show me how a guy whacks off," she urged in an excited
whisper.
Slowly, he began to finger his cock through the thin, slippery silk. It
didn't take long till it began to expand and thicken with the first surge
of lusty male power. Ronny closed his eyes and gripped himself harder,
curling his fingers around the swelling shaft, squeezing, rubbing the cool,
silky smooth panties up and down in slow prelude to masturbation.
The sensations were indescribably delicious: the exciting tickle of the
rubbing fabric merging with the throbbing upsurge of deep-seated pleasure.
He groaned. And through half-opened eyes, he saw his sister sitting on the
edge of her chair, staring at his cock, captivated by what she saw. Her
female fascination fired something deep inside him, and he instantly
stiffened into a rock-hard erection. The pleasuring hand moved more
confidently now; firmer, harder, faster, stroking up and down in an easy
rhythm. Ronny felt his knees weaken, and he swayed as his eyes closed once
more to savor the thrill.
Shelly saw his eyes tighten down into slits, and his jaws clench against
the excruciating pleasure. The hand that gripped his cock was pumping up
and down faster and faster till it merged into a furious blur, and the boy
arched backwards.
He let out a tight-lipped grunt, and then exploded in a burst of semen
that rocked him back on his heels, as it shot up into the air and arched
down to splatter on the rug, just missing her foot. She stared, fascinated
to see the erupting cock, the shower of gobs of sperm, that diminished to a
surging dribble, throbbing out, more weakly now, trickling down over his
hand and her closely-held panties
Ronny was breathing heavily now. He staggered back to sit on the bed,
his shoulders heaving. Absently, he dabbed at his oozing cock with the
wadded panties. Shelly watched him closely, waiting till she judged he had
come back down to earth.
"You did good, Little Brother, coming just for me, like that. Maybe I
won't tell after all. Maybe this'll be our little secret? You can put
that away now," she said eyeing his depleted cock.
Relieved, Ronny tucked in his still pulsating penis, and quickly zipped
up his jeans. He stood up to leave.
"Wait a minute. You're not just going to leave those there like are
you", she stopped him pointing to where the splattered panties lay next to
the bed.
He looked at her, confused.
"Pick them up, stupid, and then go and wash them out. I don't want your
cum all over my panties, What would Mom think, when she did the wash?
She made him make a quick trip to the bathroom to wash out her
underwear, and when he returned and she inspected the job, she showed him
how to drape them over the radiator so they might dry out. Only then was
he allowed to go.
Part 4
Ron knew their secret was safe, since neither of them could say a word
about what had happened that day in Shelly's bedroom without both of them
getting into real trouble. Still, he seethed with venegrence. The awful
humiliation burned deep inside him. He swore he'd see that his sister paid
for what she'd done to him. He was patient, but he knew that somehow,
someday, he would get his revenge on the stuck-up, overbearing bitch who
had sat there smirking while he pleasured himself at her command. And then
one day, as often happens with such things, his chance came quite out of
the blue.
That night, Shelly had invited over several of her girlfriends. Two of
the girls, Ron thought, were kind of hot, although they wouldn't give him
the time of day. Shelly met her friends at the door and they all raced
immediately to her room, shouting a greeting to his parents on their way up
the stairs. Every once in a while you could hear them giggling through the
closed door. He sat in the livingroom with his parents watching TV,
vaguely listening to the sounds from her room, feeling bored. He got up to
go out on the porch. It was a warm summer's night, and he got to
wondering, not for the first time, about what the girls did when they got
together.
He went down to front lawn and then circled the house, till he came to a
place just below her open window. It was then, as he stood looking up at
the lighted window, that a curious odor came to him, smoky and
sweet-smelling. He recognized that smell. It was pot! Burning marajuana
-- he was sure of it! Straining to look up, he thought he saw a faint
whiff of smoke come from the open window. Immediately a plan formed in his
mind.
Walking swiftly but stealthily, he raced back into the house, past the
livingroom with his unsupecting parents, to get his mother's polaroid
camera. Armed with the camera under a jacket he quickly threw on, he made
his escape past the TV watchers, and back out to the sideyard. He was
trembling with excitement, forcing himself to be careful, as he climbed the
big oak tree that stood outside his Sister's window. Ron climbed this tree
many times as a kid. He knew that there was a certain place, up among the
branches, where you could get a good view into the room. He sometimes made
the climb in hopes of getting a peak at his sister undressing, but she
almost always drew the drapes. This time they were left open, undoubtedly
to let the telltale fumes escape.
He edged up to see over the window sill, and he saw all four of them
sitting on her bed in a loose circle. They were sharing a toke, giggling
and laughing while rock music pounded from his sister's CD player. He
couldn't make out what they were saying, of course, but that didn't matter.
It was obvious what was going on. Trembling with excitement, he opened the
camera and adjusted the settings. Working to hold it steady, he pointed it
at the lighted room and squeezed off several shots as the funny little
cirgarette was being passed around. His parents wouldn't tolerate their
kids smoking, but they went absolutely crazy over just the thought of
drugs. They would have been totally shocked to find their precious little
princess was getting high...in their very house!
As the first picture emerged from the camera, the grinning teenager felt
a deep surge of satisfaction. By the dim light, he studied the photo in
his trembling hand. It wasn't too good, but it was clear enough to make it
out. He had her! He knew he had her! Now, to plot his revenge.
****** ****** ***** Of course, he knew he'd have to wait till they were
alone in the house: it was almost two weeks, with the incriminating photos
carefully hidden in the dictionary he kept over the desk in his room. Just
knowing they were there, filled Ron with wild elation. From time to time
he'd sneak them out to study them, grinning and chuckling to himself. His
mood was upbeat. Even his mother noted that he wasn't so "sulky' of late.
He just smiled at her, and at his sister, assuring them he was "just fine."
Shelly's eyes narrowed. She didn't trust him, and probably sensed that he
was up to something.
It was only a matter of time till his parents went on one of their
regular trips to Aunt Grace's. Aunt Grace was sick; (she was always sick)
and mother was worried, so off they went. Shelly was seldom forced to go
on these family outings anymore, and increasingly Ron found he could get
out of them too, if he had an excuse. Usually, he pleaded that he had
extra homework to do, and that almost always worked to get him out of it.
So, on that Saturday, and Ron stood behind the front door, watching as
their car pulled away, waving back at his mother, who always looked back as
she left. Then he turned away, his heart racing with excitement. He made
himself stop and think: would have to get a grip on himself, to take it
slow and easy. He had her all to himself, and today, she would pay!
***** Retrieving the photos from their hiding place, he marched straight
to Shelly's room. He had practiced this day many times in his mind. He
would throw open the door, and stride in, confronting her, presenting her
with the damning evidence. He tried the knob. The door was locked! He
cursed, and knocked, hard.
"Shelly, open up!"
"Go away! I'm busy."
"Shelly, you better open this door. I got something to show you.
Something you're gonna want to see."
He waited, finally the door opened just a crack and she peered out at
him, an expression of annoyance on her face.
"What do you want?"
"I want to talk to you," he said, holding the pictures behind him.
"What have you got there?" she demanded, instantly suspicious.
"Something you're gonna want to see. Let me in."
She stepped back to let him in. He couldn't help grinning at her, as
she stood in the doorway in her tank top and cut-offs, a scowl on her
pretty blond face.
He had rehearsed this moment many times: what he would say, as, with a
dramatic flourish, he produced the evidence of her pot-smoking., and shoved
it under her nose. But as he brought the photos out from behind his back,
she surprised him by making a grab for them. His reactions were quick; he
thrust the set of photos out at arm's length away from her. Although Ron
had always been "little brother," he had undergone a spurt of growth that
now put him an inch or two taller than his older sister. He used his long
gangly arms, and hard, wiry body to keep her at bay.
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" he cried. "I'll let you see them. In
fact, I want you to see them. You can look, but don't touch." She stopped
trying to snatch at the pictures he held up high over his head, and backed
off.
Ron knew he had her attention now. He sat on her bed, and patted the
place next to him. She plunked down on the bed, but not too close, her
suspicion deepening. Trying to supress a smile, he held up the first
picture: There was Shelly and Erin, sharing a joint! The next showed
Shelly: the funny little cigarette between her lips, her eyes closed,
taking a deep drag! He watched her as she silently took in each, while he
showed her all six pictures.
Once again, she tried to snatch them away, but he anticipated her
reaction this time and was a half-second faster. The hand holding the
pictures shot up over his head, just as she sprang at him, knocking him
backwards onto the bed. Shelly was on him like a wildcat, scrambling up
his outstretched body, desperate to get at the damning evidence.
He tossed the pictures over the edge of the bed, and as she scrambled
after them he wrapped his arms around her hips and rolled her over onto her
back. Then he was on her and they were wrestling, like they did when they
were kids. But this time it was different, wonderfully exciting to feel
her lightly-clad body rubbing against his. She continued to struggle under
him; he relished the exciting feel of her: her warm, soft, girl's body
squirming under him. He felt a creamy rise of pleasure. Then he managed
to overpower her and, straddling her waist, pinned her to the mattress by
her upraised wrists.
She looked up from under her bangs; fire in her hard brown eyes.
"Let me gooo, you creep," she grunted through clenched teeth, arching
back off the bed, and inadvertently giving the boy an eyeful of her frisky
breasts in their loose halter top.
"Whoooa, settle down Shelly. We gotta have a little talk."
"Let me uuup!" she demanded. Still the same old bitch!
"Not till we've talked about those pictures."
The girl ceased struggling. "Let me up, and we can talk," her voice was
unemotional.
He didn't trust her; knew she was only waiting for a chance to get her
hands on the pictures.
"No, I like you right where you are," he said, easing back to sit on her
belly.
"So what do you want, creep?"
"First of all, I don't like you calling me names. In fact, why don't
you just shut up for once, and listen."
He had practiced this speech many times in his mind, but now with her
beneath him, glaring up at at him from under those blond bangs, he was
momentarily flustered.
Summoning up his courage, he took a deep breath and plowed on.
"The way I look at it is, that if I show these little beauties to Mon
and Dad, you've had it. Mom'll go on the warpath. You'll be grounded for
a month. And you know what Dad'll do. He'll use that strap of his on that
precious ass of yours till its black and blue. You won't be able to sit
down for a week once he gets through with you."
For the moment, she only glared at him, wondering perhaps if he was
serious, and deciding he probably was.
"What do you want?" The voice she used was flat, uncaring. As though
she didn't give a damn.
If not accepting defeat, she was at least becoming more reasonable.
Ronny knew this was a critical time. She could go either way. He was
close, very close, but he had to be careful.
"Ok, Shell, here's the deal. You remember that time when I was messin'
around in your drawers? And you came in, and made me...do what you wanted?
Well, now you're gonna do what I want. I'll tell, and I got the evidence
to show them.
Shelly who was a bright girl, in fact quite bit smarter than her younger
brother, grasped the situation immediately. He was blackmailing her!
There was no doubt in her mind that the snot would carry out his threat.
Her parents thought any kind of drugs were the work of the devil, and her
Dad would spank her unmercifully. An involuntary shiver ran through her at
the thought.
Her hard eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked up at the grinning
bastard who hovered over her. She fought to control herself, forcing out
the words:
"What do you want?"
His eyes lit up in barely controlled triumph.
"I'm gonna make a deal with you, bitch." He said the last word with
increased boldness now. He felt sure he had her! "The way I look at,
you're gonna get a spankin' Either I tell and Dad beats your ass black and
blue with the strap, or... I do it...with my hand. He was quick to add.
You decide."
He held his breath, petrified that she still might refuse.
After what seemed like an eternity, with the two of them just staring at
one another, she was the first to blink. Her blond lashes fluttered down.
"I want the pictures," she said in a quiet, but implacable tone.
Ron's grin widened. He couldn't help smiling. "Sure Shell, sure. I'll
give you the pictures as soon as we're through here. I promise. But
first, you have to do what I say...exactly what I say."
"All right, get off of me," she grunted reluctantly.
Ron slowly dismounted, wary of a sudden attack. He didn't trust his
sister, and he wasn't totally sure she had been subdued. But she just lay
there, staring at the ceiling, passive, and seemingly acquiescent.
Ron got off the bed to bring over a small, gold metal chair, and place
it at the center of the room, in front of the big mirror that hung over the
vanity.
He plunked down on the chair, planted his spread feet, and, giving her a
big smile, lightly patted his blue-jeaned thigh. "Ok, bitch, now bring
your ass over here." The teenager was clearly enjoying himself.
Big Sister Gets Hers (D/s m/F humil, spnkng)
Don Winslow
Part 5
The leggy blonde slowly gathered herself up, and climbed off the bed.
Unusually subdued, she padded barefoot over the carpeted floor to stand
before her seated brother, her eyes avoiding his, studying the rug at his
feet.
"How do you want me?" Her voice was hushed, barely audible, a note of
defeat in it. She stood there like some lovely blond robot, tall and
aloof, in those short shorts that left most those sleek legs deliciously
bare, eyes lowered prettily. For a moment Ron could only stare at the girl
in wonder. He couldn't believe this was actually happening! The thrill
that went through him made him realize he was getting a hardon.
"Over my lap," he managed to get out, though his throat was dry and
constricted.
There was pause, while Ronny waited, scarcely daring to breathe.
Then...she did it! The slender blonde came to him and slowly lowered
herself, to lay submissively over his lap, presenting her brother with her
upturned, denim-encased ass, just as he had ordered!
For a long moment, he sat there, savoring her solid weight across his
wide-spread thighs, studying the seductive invitation his big sister's
precious ass presented to him in those snug denim shorts. The sight
inflamed his lust. Instantly, his growing hardon sprung up into full
prominence, becoming hopelessly entangled in his underwear.
He could feel her body tense up as she waited. Finally, he reached out
and lightly tapped her on the crest of those rounded contours. "No, this
isn't right. These shorts'll have to go."
The girl didn't move. He shifted his knees.
"Go on," he urged in a strangled voice, "take 'em off."
"You didn't say anything about taking things off," came the annoyed
protest from the inverted blond head.
"Just the shorts," he was quick to re-assure her. I can't spank you
with your shorts on. Honest, Shell. Just your shorts, and that's all. I
swear".
"Just the shorts?" she asked, still deeply suspicious.
For a spilt second, he stopped to consider: spanking her pantied behind
might not be quite as nice as spanking her bare-assed, but he was afraid to
push her too far. She might suddenly refuse; call the whole thing off. So
he decided to settle for what he could get.
"That's all," he promised solemnly.
With a deep sigh of exasperation, the young blond woman lifted herself
back up off her brother's lap. A wild wave of triumph went through the boy
as he saw she was going to obey him. But when she stepped away, to turn
her back on him as she worked open her cut-offs, he got suddenly annoyed.
"No. Turn around. And come over here." He knew he was pressing her,
but he just had to watch her as she stripped for him.
With her hands at the front of her loosened cut-offs, she stepped closer
to her seated brother, so close that her denimed crotch was only inches
from his eyes. She marveled at how confident he seemed, how suddenly
mature and masterful her little brother had become. At that moment, she
saw him in a new light. Little brother was growing up, and judging by the
telltale bulge in his jeans, which she happened to notice, he was becoming
quite a well-hung guy. The thought sent an odd quiver through her. Shelly
lowered the zipper down the front of her shorts and, with thumbs hooked in
the waistband, rode them down her hips to her knees, there to let gravity
take over so that the loosened shorts dropped straight down her naked legs
to come to rest ringing her ankles.
As the descending shorts were worked lower before him, Ronny's
fascinated eyes were greeted by the sight of the underpants his sister wore
that day -- a silky, pastel yellow pair of hipsters, banding the creamy
smoothness of her lean, lightly tanned body. He thought he could make out
the slight mound of her pussy and even a trace of pubic hair through the
reinforced front of the thin, tautly-drawn nylon; the thought sent his
hardon stiffening to even greater heights.
Shelly saw him staring right at the front of her panties; and decided it
was best to get this over with, before something else happened, something
that neither of them could control.
Kicking away her shorts, she stepped around beside his chair, and
lowered herself once more into the humiliating position, her lithe body
draped limply across the widened thighs of her little brother.
Ronny was in heaven! Never in his wildest dreams, did he hope to have
the snooty, overbearing bitch in this hands like this! A wild surge of
jubilation shot through him; he barely suppressed a triumphant cry.
Beaming down on Shelly's upturned rump with a benevolent smile, he gazed
entranced at the tightly-packed panties -- the bitch's precious, perfect,
little ass that she'd often waved in his face, was now so nicely offered to
him, to do with what he would. So plump and neatly rounded, the dark crack
between the cheeks evident through the taut nylon, and down there between
her legs...the bulge of her pussy! He felt the surge of lust in his prick
and adjusted himself, sending a hand into his jeans to free his suffocating
cock from its tangle of his jockey shorts. Once his penis stood erect, he
shifted her weight in his lap, so that the lanky blonde lay with one solid
hip pressing against his upright cock.
Almost reverently, he touched the seat of her panties with his
fingertips, sliding the thin silk over the pert curves, making little
circles, enjoying himself immensely.
"What are you doing! Let's get this over with!"
The annoyed tone she took with him instantly destroyed his good mood,
and he smacked her lightly.
"No hurry, Shell. They won't be back till suppertime. He patted the
pantied ass in front of him. "And I don't like you telling me what to do.
You better be nice to me." A flash of inspiration came to him. "In fact,
maybe I'll start right now, if you ask me real nice."
She didn't move. He knew she was laying there, seething with rage; she
might decide to lash out at him. He slid a hand under her the back of her
tank top, pressing the flattened hand on the small of her smooth back.
Then he reached down, gathered up her dangling pony tail, and clutching the
hank of silky hair in his fist jerked back on it, yanking her head up and
back as he pinned her to his knees, so she cried out. He let her just a
bit of slack but held tight, pulling on her hair.
"All right, all right," she yelped, "I'll do it."
He jerked a bit, then gave her just a bit more slack.
"Say it," he teased. Say 'Please spank me, Ron.'"
"Spank me, Ronny" she grunted though teeth clenched against the pain.
His iron grip never slackened, but he stopped pulling on her hair long
enough to deliver his next warning.
"You didn't say please, and I don't like Ronny. Call me Ron. In fact,
I want you to call me 'Sir'. Say it! say it now: 'Please spank me, Sir.'"
He knew she hated every moment of this, but she was in his power,
helpless over his lap, with her head being hauled back by the hair till she
arched up and was held bent backwards in a bow.
"Okay," she shrieked in surrender. The hand slackened its grip.
"Please spank me,...Sir," she said gasped out in a breathless whisper.
He yanked savagely. "I can't hear you."
"Yeeouch...Please spank me, Sir," she yelled out.
He let go of hair -- for which she was immensely grateful. Her head
fell forward, sagging down, the pony-tail once more dangling, still within
his reach.
Contrary to what she wanted, he would take his time, forcing himself to
proceed slowly, for he wanted to savor every minute of his big sister's
humiliating punishment. Her squirming in his lap had caused the panties to
rise up and they were now slightly askew and tangled in her crotch.
Taking the slippery silk between his fingers, he adjusted her cute
little panties for her. On a whim, he began playing with them, lovingly
smoothening out the tiny wrinkles that had formed, and pulling them up into
place so that they were stretched perfectly taut over the twin domes of
Shelly's pert rearend. The panties were the sort of low-riding hipsters
his sister preferred.
Again he began to slide the slippery silk over the rounded contours
using first his fingertips, and then, his hands. He fitted his curved
palms to Shelly's rearcheeks and squeezed, kneading them moving the
delightful small mounds around, till she sucked in a breath and hissed:
"Ronny...no! Please."
"Shut up, bitch." He frowned at her calling him Ronny, and delivered a
stinging slap, that sent one little mound wobbling. He quite enjoyed that!
Grabbing the back of the waistband, he yanked her panties upward,
hauling the stretching fabric to its limits, drawing the gusset tight up
into her crotch, and exposing the bottom crescents of her smiling
undercurves peeking out below. She grunted. He couldn't resist sampling
that sliver of exposed asscheek, then pinching it between his fingers.
"Yeeeeouch," the girl yelped, head and shoulders shooting up in
surprised reaction.
Ronny only smiled, immensely enjoying himself. Now he restored the
legbands to their rightful place, so that those plump little cheeks were
barely confined by the curving bands of lacy elastic. He took this time,
neatly adjusting her panties, edging them up at the hips, smoothening them
over the mounds, till he had them perfectly in place once again. All the
while he was itching to lay into her, and his cock was aching, pressing
urgently against her pantied hip.
"Now, I think you're all nice and ready, bitch," he pronounced. "I
never done this before, so we're gonna start with a few practice spanks.
Then, you have to count them out. Just like you do for Dad. I'll tell you
when to start."
She lay inert in his lap, and didn't say a word, but he noticed her
tense up in anticipation, her buttocks clenching under her panties.
He raised his flattened hand over his head and swung, aiming directly
across the twin mounds of his sister's pantied behind to deliver a slap
that was crisp, but nor hard.
"SMACK!"
The solid feel of his hand bouncing off the hardened mounds was deeply
satisfying to the excited boy. He looked down at the rearend raised over
his knees, and smiled to think his dream had finally come true. For all
the years of indignities he had suffered at the hands of his superior older
sister and her snooty friends, it was payback time. He had her right where
he wanted her!
He opened his thighs even further, balancing her till she lay with her
lanky body extended over his lap, her shapely legs, close set, and angled
down so that her toes dug into the rug; and at the other end, her head hung
low, the pony-tail, dangling down to almost touch the floor. Raising his
right knee slightly elevated her bottom, presenting the rounded contours of
her taut, pantied behind...to deal with as he pleased!
Taking a deep breath, he whacked Shelly's bottom a second time,
relishing the bouncy feel, the firm resiliency as his flat hand ricocheted
off the tight little mounds in a glancing blow that sent them wobbling.
"SMACK!"
The impact of the second smack sent the tense girl bounding up in
startled reaction, legs flying up in back, head and shoulders jerking up;
she let out a tiny 'yelp'. For a moment he sat with his hand firmly on
cupping those panty-covered cheeks.
"Now, bitch, You're gonna get a dozen, and I want you to count them out,
just like you do for Dad."
Three swift spanks followed in rapid fire order, spanking her hard this
time, to show he meant business. The fury of the assault caught his victim
off guard, and she yelped and managed to get out the required count in
time. She knew her failure to call them out, would merit her an extra dose.
Shelly yelped and bounded up in recoil as he struck the quivering mounds
of flesh, again and again, hitting her, hard and determined. The blows,
delivered with a flattened hand, glanced off the wobbling mounds in rapid
fire succession, each one getting a tiny "ouch" from the girl who called
out a number in the same high pitch.
After the first three he paused. there was a pause. Shelly gasped,
gulping for air, sniffling -- immensely grateful for the chance to catch
her breath. He watched as his big sister's cowering cheeks clenched and
hollowed spasmodically. And his smile broadened when he saw them tighten
in anticipation of the next set, steeling herself for what she knew -- was
to come.
He let her wait for a few seconds longer, let the anticipation build.
He laid a proprietary hand on her reddened, throbbing behind, and she
cringed under it. He tapped her reassuringly, watching her cheeks clamp
fearfully at the slightest touch.
Now he hauled back, and this time, using a cupped hand, caught her
solidly, right across the twin domes. Shelly's body straightened and
jerked convulsively, as he spanked her again and again, savoring the bouncy
resiliency of those solid, meaty mounds. He concentrated on the center of
the domes, the tops, the bottoms, walloping her ass in a methodical
spanking that soon had his victim kicking up her heels and squirming wildly
on his lap. Placing his left hand flat on the small of her back to pin her
down, he smacked her squirming bottom two or three more times, admiring the
dance of her rear cheeks under the rain of stinging smacks as she thrashed
about in her fiery torment.
The solid "SMACK" of whacking his sister's impertinent behind, with her
screeching the number, was music to his ears!
"SMACK!...Eight! SMACK!....Nine! SMACK!...Ten!"
The boy was wildly elated, his breath coming in mighty heaves, as he
brought his tingling hand down to lay it on the heaving mounds, relishing
the feel of those warm smooth mounds through the slippery fabric, rubbing
the panties all over that throbbing bottom in little circles, while Shelly
whimpered.
Relieved that it was over, the girl let the tension drain from her body.
Her butt slackened, becoming soft and malleable under the panties. A
wicked idea came to him. He couldn't resist. He had spotted the sneakers
earlier, peeking out from under her bed. Very carefully, so as not to
alarm the girl in his lap, he reached down and picked up the canvas shoe by
the toe. She didn't stir. He raised it high, and swung with all the years
of pent-up frustration he had to endure at the hands of his bossy sister.
"CRACK!...YEEEOCH!! she screeched, bounding up right off of his lap,
and doing a little agitated dance, hopping on each foot, while she
furiously rubbed her aching behind.
"That wasn't fair!" she complained, in a whinny, little-girl voice. He
sat watching her ruefully rub her bottom.
She turned her back on him, as she went over to retrieve her fallen
shorts. Quickly, she drew them up her legs, and fastened them around her
waist, her eyes avoiding his.
"Are you satisfied now?" she spat out, like it was an accusation.
"Yeah, Shell, that was fun!" he gloated. "Now we're even!"
"Yeah," she conceded, "we're even....for now."
THE END
For more of Don Winslow's erotic fiction visit:
http://www.nauticom.net/www/lchan
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