The time had finally come. I found it hard to believe.
Jennifer was sucking her brother’s cock and crying.
It was a beautiful sight. Particularly so as I knew how much Jennifer was hating it.
That was exciting.
Watching her doing it was exciting too. Jennifer was good at it. Damn good. And I should know—I had trained her. I had enjoyed that training, too, although Jennifer had not. But she had learned, all right. And now that training was paying off for young Jerry. Because Jennifer knew she had damned well better do her best. Even though she was hating each moment, hating it with a terrible passion, hating me and hating Jerry and hating what I was making her do to him. And I ws making her do it slowly, lovingly, protractedly, drawing out Jennifer’s submission, degradation, humiliation. Trampling Jennifer’s will and her spirit into the dust. Showing her what she was.
My slave.
My plaything.
My thing.
And Jennifer was slowly sucking, her head slowly moving up and down, up and down, Jennifer’s mouth taking all of Jerry’s cock into it, into her throat, sliding it out, Jennifer’s lips caressing, kissing, sliding around Jerry’s stiffness, Jennifer’s well-taught tongue licking, slowly, laving, stroking, slithering, up and down, back and forth, building Jerry’s passion, slowly, so slowly, and Jennifer all the time crying, just sucking and crying, sobbing softly, soft little sobs, whimpers, gasps coming from that working mouth and throat as Jennifer prostrated her body and her soul and went on sucking her brother’s cock, as I watched.
Jerry, it must be said, didn’t mind this at all. Most of Jerry’s young life had been spent hating, fearing and lusting for his big sister. Who was always bullying, patronizing, contemptuous and snobbish. But not now. And this history, this now violated relationship, was what was making Jerry’s pleasure such a triumphant joy, and Jennifer’s subjugation such an agonizing, almost insupportable horror and humiliation.
And in addition to all that, Jennifer had to know, as Jerry was indubitably hoping, that this was only a start. Just the beginning of what could be a very long night. For Jennifer, crouching over Jerry’s crotch—with Jerry lying naked on his bed—was still fully dressed. I was making her suck Jerry’s cock with all her clothing on. In a way this was adding to Jennifer’s shame, but in another way it left still to come that time when I would ask her to show Jerry, to show to her kid brother, that young, round, luscious, lust- inspiring body. Ask—I say ask, though my asking Jennifer anything had the force of a command—my softly crying girl to stand before that very brother and strip for him, strip slowly, taking off her clothing bit by bit, exposing it all to him, baring those high round breasts, those long luscious smooth legs, and all the rest of it, all of that scrumptious young body.
And as for what Jennifer would do with Jerry after that—with him and to him and for him. It would be lots of fun for Jerry. Lots of fun for me. No fun at all for Jennifer.
Or I thought I might make Jennifer strip while she was still sucking Jerry. Taking all her clothes off as she still held his cock in her mouth, wriggling and squirming while trying with difficulty to rid that body of blouse and skirt and stockings and bra and panties, still sucking, still crying with agony and humiliation, stripping that body naked. I could envision Jennifer, at my command, lying flat out on top of Jerry’s willing body, lying with all of her pressed against him, into him, writhing, at my command, writhing, grinding against him, as she told him all the things I was going to make her do for him, sobbing into his ear as she gasped out in detail all those lascivious joys Jerry was about to undergo at his sister’s forcibly submissive hands. And body.
But now Jerry was coming and Jennifer was moaning and swallowing, moaning and taking Jerry’s spunk into that gulping throat, Jerry shooting and howling, Jennifer moaning and swallowing and choking and swallowing and gasping and swallowing.
It drove me wild and I had Jennifer suck me too, and Jerry, watching, got hard again. So I had Jennifer strip for him. Crying as she did.
And I said, “Jennifer, tell Jerry to hurt you.”
Jennifer didn’t want to do that.
“Jennifer,” I said.
“Hurt me, Jerry,” Jennifer said.
“Again,” I said.
“Hurt me, Jerry,” Jennifer said, crying.
Jerry hurt her.
Jennifer screamed.
Jerry hurt her again.
Jennifer dropped to her knees.
“Again,” I said.
Jennifer said, “Hurt me, Jerry,” and Jerry did, and Jennifer writhed on the floor.
Jerry fell on top of her.
I said, “Put your legs around him, Jennifer.”
Jerry did it to his sister, hard and brutally, as Jennifer clamped her luscious thighs and curving calves around him and twisted that body against him and screamed and yelled and howled and shouted and shrieked and cried and squalled in agony and pain and horror and humiliation and shame and degradation and debasement and I put my cock in her ass and fucked that young gorgeous bucking crying body….
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