Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By JetBoy

I was lying on the couch, an ache in my neck where it was propped against the hard armrest. I didn’t bother to move, though, as the dull pain seemed to fit perfectly with my mood while I listened to my big sister’s pleading, desperate voice crackling over the telephone.

“…and so now I’m going to lose the house, if I don’t raise the money in two weeks. I don’t know what to do. Kris, is there any way you can help me?”

Megan fell silent, having reached the end of her latest tale of woe.

I gave a long, deep sigh. “I can’t, Meg,” I murmured, and she let out a strangled whimper.

In case you’re already writing me off as a heartless bitch, let me explain. The word my sister forgot to add to the end of her plea was again. A very important word, that.

You see, I’d been bailing my sister out of personal jams for years, loaning her money more often than I care to admit. She’d be behind with her bills, or lose her job, or some emergency would pop up – and there she’d be, at my doorstep with a new sob story. Megan could be responsible with money when she really put her mind to it. But then she’d get some crazy impulse or cockeyed scheme that would have her burning through her savings and maxing out every credit card, and suddenly she was back at square one. I love my big sister to bits, but this cycle she was locked into was driving us both insane.

The last time Megan came to me for money, I wrote her a check for $50,000 and told her gently as I could that it was a gift, not a loan, and that it was absolutely the last time. Period, paragraph, end of sentence. That, believe it or not, was only nine months ago.

“Megan, what happened to the money I gave you last year?” I was trying to keep the exasperation I felt from coloring my voice, clutching the telephone receiver so tightly it hurt.

I swear I heard her wince on the other end. “I tried to – to play the stock market… it didn’t work out.”

Obviously, I told myself. “I invested a lot of what you gave me in an internet seed company.” I was speechless. “You know – flowers, vegetable seeds.”

“Selling them online?” I managed to ask, finally. “Packets of seeds?”

“Well, yeah. And I had other expenses, you know!” she said, already growing defensive.

I sighed into the phone again. “Look, I’m sorry your investment didn’t work out. I feel awful about it, honestly I do. But, Meg… we can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

“It’s not like you can’t afford it, Kris,” she said, a hint of anger already creeping into her voice.

“That’s not the point, Megan…”

“I can’t believe you won’t do this for me – and after all the times I’ve helped you!”

I sighed. The last time I remember Megan helping me was when I was seven, when she put a Band-Aid on my skinned knee.

“I’m sorry, Megan,” I told her again, “I love you, but I can’t bail you out anymore.”

From there, the conversation pretty much went to hell. Soon she was yelling, crying, and slinging insults. I tried to stay calm and rational, but there were limits. Finally, on the verge of exploding myself, I apologized again, told her I still loved her, and hung up.

Despite knowing I was doing the right thing, it felt awful. I really do love my sister – I even like her, most of the time. Being her safety net had grown awfully old, though. I’d given Megan a leg up so many times that now she acted like she was somehow entitled to my help. And blowing her top when I told her no really was the last straw. I do honestly want my sister to be happy and secure, but I’m not going to let myself be used.

That day, I spent so much time brooding over Megan and her problems that I was late leaving work. Before I left, I checked my voicemail and listened to her messages. There were five of them. At first she was still blustering and angry, then they grew apologetic. By the last one she was begging again, pleading for help or just a place to stay “until I’m back on my feet.”

Then when I got home, I discovered half a dozen more messages from her on the answering machine! By then, I was so frazzled that I deleted them all without listening.

I collapsed into a nearby chair, lost in thought. My sister claimed to need help, but I was no longer sure that giving her money was help. Really, it was more like feeding a bottomless pit.

She doesn’t need a loan, I thought, clenching my jaw. Christ, she needs a – a keeper!

And that’s when the idea hit me. The craziest idea imaginable – but it was also strangely inviting.

Well, I told myself, it’s not as if I’ve never taken over another woman’s life before.

It was ridiculous. She was my sister, after all. But once there, the thought just wouldn’t leave my head. I began to run through the pros and cons of it all.

The more I pondered my idea, the more intriguing it seemed. It would solve her problems, and let me give Megan the help she needed without being her doormat. Plus, I had to admit that the thought of it got me excited. I’d always had a secret crush on my big sister, ever since I first realized my attraction to girls back in high school. She’d been the first person I’d told after figuring out I was gay, but Meg had no idea that I’d masturbated to steamy fantasies about her more than a few times.

Of course, in order for this idea of mine to pay off, Megan would have to agree to it in the first place. I was almost certain she would refuse. But there was only one way to find out for sure.

It was a hell of a risk, revealing my secret self to my sister. But the possibility, however remote, that she might actually consent to my scheme – well, it was too enticing to resist.

After making up my mind to follow through with this insane plan, I decided to call Megan the next day and let her know I’d be dropping by. This was one proposal that would have to be put to her in person.

The next day was Thursday. I got to work early and spent some of the morning planning out details, on the off-chance that Megan decided to accept my offer.

Around eleven, I gave Megan a call. When she heard my voice, she immediately tried to launch into an obviously rehearsed apology.

I didn’t give her a chance to get started. “Megan… Megan. Listen to me. I can’t talk now, I’ve got a meeting in two minutes. There is something I want to go over with you, though, and it might be a solution to your problem. Can I come by tomorrow?”

I was extending a straw, and she clutched at it with both hands. “Um, yeah, of course. So… what is it?”

“I’d rather talk about this face to face. I’ll be there at eight, okay?”

She agreed, her voice buoyant with renewed hope, then we exchanged goodbyes. I knew she wouldn’t sound nearly as chipper when she got the gist of my proposal.

After leaving work the next day I drove home, took a shower, changed clothes and spent about an hour making myself look especially hot. Then I gathered up everything I needed, stuffed it in a brown leather carry-all, got back into the car and hit the road.

I felt excited and a bit light-headed as I drove, on my way across town to see my sister – and maybe, just maybe, change her life.

Megan answered the door, a bit surprised at how I was dressed. Instead of the casual clothes she usually saw me in, I was wearing snug black leather pants and a tight, sleeveless red top. I’d gone without a bra, and my nipples were clearly visible.

She came up and gave me a hug, her larger breasts pressing into mine, sending a ripple of desire through my belly.

Drawing away, Megan gave me a weak smile. “I’m sorry, sis. I shouldn’t have been such a bitch to you.”

“Don’t worry about that – it’s not important,” I assured her. “But we do have something to discuss.”

“Sure, c’mon in. I mixed up a pitcher of Cosmopolitans.”

We moved into the living room, Megan quickly pouring me a drink. I dropped my bag on the table and sat down in the big recliner. My sister’s lips pursed slightly when she heard the brass studs on the bottom of the bag click against the table, but I ignored her; this conversation wasn’t going to go the way she liked, and it was best to make that clear from the beginning.

“You said… you thought you could help me?” She began tentatively.

“No,” I corrected her. “I said that I might have a possible solution.”

“But doesn’t that mean…”

“No, I’m not here to give you money. I told you that I wasn’t doing that again, and I meant it. I can’t keep bailing you out, Megan. How many times have we been through this? And each time, you always end up back in the same hole.”

Megan looked sad, and a little hurt. I felt bad for her, but that didn’t make what I said any less true.

“No, money isn’t the solution.”

She spread her hands helplessly. “Then what?”

“What I’m about to offer you probably isn’t going to be anything you want, Megan… or even anything you care to know about, but it’s only fair that you’re given the option. It’s there for you, if you’re willing.”

“What – what option? Just tell me, for God’s sake!”

“I’ll get to it… but first I want to explain some things.” She nodded, and I continued. “Megan, you know that I’m gay, but there’s more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I have interests that go beyond sex with women.”

Megan looked confused, but was listening; so I went on.

“You see, I’m not just a lesbian. I’m also a dominant.”

She tried to process this. “So… you like to – to control other women?”

“Yes,” I replied calmly. “I take female lovers, and then I make them mine… completely and utterly mine. Basically, I own them.”

“Jesus,” she whispered.

“All of which brings me back to this situation of yours. Megan,” I told her gently, “you don’t need money. Giving you more of it won’t solve your problem; it’ll just delay it for another couple of months. What you do need is someone to take care of you.”

“What do you mean? I – I don’t understand,” Megan said.

“If you want, you can come live with me, and I’ll look after you. In exchange, you’ll do what you’re told. It’s really not much different from a job, in a way… but you get room, board, and all your needs taken care of instead of a salary.”

She still wasn’t getting it. “What, like a maid?”

I shook my head impatiently. “No, not like a maid. Just listen. I’m talking about you giving yourself over to me.” I paused, and then dropped the bomb. “What I mean, Megan, is that – well, you’d be my sex slave.”

She sat back suddenly, eyes wide with shock. It had been staring her in the face, but she’d refused to see. Now that she had, she couldn’t believe it.

“This is… some kind of joke, right?” she asked me hesitantly.

“No, Megan. I’m completely serious.”

“But how? Why? You want to have sex with me? Kris, we’re sisters!”

I reached out to touch her knee. “You’re a very desirable woman,” I said softly, “and I think we could be really good together.” She only shook her head in disbelief. “Megan, stop thinking by society’s rules, give what I’m saying a chance. We’ve always loved each other as sisters… this is just taking our feelings to another level.”

She raised her face to mine, now pale with shock. “Jesus, Kris… how long have you felt this way about me?”

I could have lied and told her something less scary than the truth – something like, Oh, it sort of struck me last night, just how much I’d love to take you to bed. But I had to be honest with my sister, especially now.

“Since I was fifteen,” I replied, somehow managing to keep from looking away.

“My God,” Megan whispered, and she began to cry.

I sat quietly, hands folded in my lap, staring silently at my sobbing sister as the cold weight of reality settled onto her. She was in trouble, and this time no one was going to hand her the money to make everything go away.

“I’m sorry, Megan,” I said with a deep sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t like the idea, but I felt I had to give you a chance to hear it.” I slowly stood and reached for my bag. “I’ll just go.”

I turned to leave, but then Megan said, “Wait.” Her voice was heavy, sullen.

“What?” I asked.

She took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself. “I should at least know what this involves. Tell me the details.”

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

“I should at least hear you out,” she mumbled bitterly. “I owe you that much, I suppose.”

“You don’t owe me…”

“Whatever, Kris… just fucking tell me!” She seemed close to hysteria. I guess I couldn’t blame her – this was a lot to absorb at once.

“Okay, but it’s not very complicated. First, I’ll pay all your outstanding bills. I’ll give you a room, food, and all your necessities. I’ll take care of you. In exchange, you sign all your assets over to me, including the house. Most of all, you give your complete obedience to me, and do what you’re told.”

“Wh-what kind of things would I do?”

“Really, you’d have to be willing to accept almost anything. You’ll have to do whatever I tell you to – dress the way I like, for one thing. And sex, of course. I get to fuck you whenever I want, however I want. There will be regular sex, some bondage, maybe even spanking. Some of it you might not like, some could even hurt, but you’ll never be injured. And some of it… you might really enjoy.”

She nodded a little distractedly, her cheeks bright pink as she stared at her knees. “Would you be sharing me? With other women?”

I shook my head. “No. My lovers are only allowed to enjoy sexual pleasure with me.” I saw her shiver at the word lovers – whether from dread or excitement, I didn’t know.

She suddenly raised her head, her eyes burning into mine. “Do you think I should do it?”

I was actually startled. “What?”

“Well, you’re still my sister, right? And you’re the one with all the good advice.” I caught a hint of sarcasm in those last two words. “What if someone else was making this offer? Would you tell me to go for it?”

I gave that a bit of thought. “I don’t know,” I finally said with a sigh. “If you honestly hate the idea of giving up control of your life, you’d be miserable with me. And you’re not completely without other options. You can liquidate your assets, declare bankruptcy – get used to living with less.” I shrugged. “You’ll be fending off bill collectors for years, at the very least… but you’ll still be your own woman.”

Nodding her head with a faraway look in her eyes, Megan seemed to close down for a couple of minutes. She was obviously thinking, but I couldn’t read her. Instead I waited patiently, giving her time to decide.

After several minutes of quiet reflection, her eyes met mine. “I’ll do it.”

I was too surprised to speak at first, but recovered quickly. “All right, then.”

“You fucking bitch,” Megan muttered, staring evenly at me, “I should hate you for this.” She slumped back on the sofa. “But I’m just… so damned tired. I can’t beat my head against the wall anymore, trying to make it and only g-getting by.” She stifled a sob. “So I guess I’ll be your little sex toy, if that means so much to you.” She was struggling with tears, but finally managed to choke them back. Closing her eyes, she sat motionless for a long moment, composing herself. Then she looked up at me. “When do we start?”

I fixed her with a steady gaze. “Megan, are you absolutely sure about this?” She gave me a curt nod. “Then it starts right now.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her face going slightly pale.

Standing, I said to her, “Come with me,” and led my sister into her bedroom.

I set my hold-all down and started going through her underwear drawers. Megan watched me passively as I started removing things and tossing them on the bed, setting aside a few choice items. That accomplished, I sprawled out on the bed, watching my sister. Her expression was still impossible to read. In fact, she wasn’t even commenting about my boots on her fancy bedspread.

I gestured toward the smaller pile. “Change into those.”

Megan said nothing, wouldn’t even meet my eyes as she started to undress. She didn’t try and make it a tease, but in a way her simple, unadorned movements made the act more provocative. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. Then she reached back, unclasped her bra and let it drop, making no move to cover herself. Next came her pants, and socks, then finally she was pulling down her panties and stepping out of them to reveal a neatly trimmed pubic triangle. She dressed with the same economical motions, and soon stood before me in white socks, a white t-shirt thin enough to show off her nipples, and tiny pink panties with white hearts.

I gestured to Megan to kneel, and she did without complaint. Going back to my bag, I pulled out a collar and slipped it around her neck. It was black leather with a simple D-ring hanging at the center of her throat. Her eyes were fearful as I buckled it; as if she realized for the first time what she was getting into.

She gave me a beseeching look, fingering the collar. “D-do I have to…?”

I said nothing, only folded my arms and gazed evenly at her. Finally, her cheeks crimson, she meekly bowed her head, staring at the floor.

I studied her for a few beats, then nodded. “Good.” I jerked a thumb at the heap of clothes I’d selected. “These are the things you’ll be bringing along. All the rest stays behind. I’ll buy you a new set of clothes later this week. Now go through your personal items, and figure out what you want to take. Only what you absolutely need.”

Megan gathered up a few photo albums, her old teddy bear, and a shoebox full of letters and postcards. Then she opened the top drawer of her night table and took out a small pile of books. I could tell by the way she held them that these were important to her, and wandered over to see what they were.

“My diaries,” she said when she saw me looking. “I’d like to keep writing in them.”

I nodded. “Of course,” I said, picking up one of them and idly flipping through its pages. I wasn’t reading anything, just seeing how she would react to me perusing her personal thoughts – she didn’t. Instead she began to go through her jewelry box, discarding most of the contents.

“These are the things I really want to keep,” she said, pointing at what remained in the box. “It’s mostly heirlooms or antiques, and a couple of special gifts. The rest is all the stuff I don’t care that much about.”

“You can keep the things you want, but mostly you’ll be wearing little or no jewelry.” I paused. “Of course, I might want to have you pierced in certain places.”

I expected her to register shock at that, but she simply nodded and began packing. A few minutes later, she closed the last suitcase. “That’s everything.”

I took out my car keys and handed them to her. “Go put your bags in the trunk.”

When she returned, I told her, “We’re leaving now. Put something on, but only on your lower half. The rest stays as it is.”

She wriggled into a small pair of denim cut-offs that went perfectly with what she had on, then slipped on a pair of cute pink sneakers. Straightening herself, she took a deep breath, then reached for her purse. “Okay… I’m ready.”

We walked to the front door in silence. As we entered the foyer, Megan said “Wait.” Opening her purse, she fished about inside for a few seconds, then produced a set of keys, handing them to me. “Here. This one is the house key, this is to the car. You can throw the rest away.”

She opened the door, emerging into the late afternoon sun, turning to take one last look into the home that had been hers for eight years. Then she strode away without so much as a backward glance.

I locked the house, we got in my car, and I started driving. After a few minutes, it became obvious I wasn’t heading to my place. My sister glanced at me, biting her lip, then meekly asked, “Where are we going?”

“To get your hair done,” I said.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.

I pulled into the parking lot of a mostly-deserted salon. It was run by a friend of mine, who had kept her place open late as a favor to me.

As we got out of the car, I pulled another surprise from my bag. I went up to my sister and clipped a chain leash with a leather handle to her collar. She made as if to object, but fell silent, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Trailing the lead in my left hand, I led her inside. My friend Sandra was there to greet us when we came in. She came forward and gave me a hug and a kiss while my sister fidgeted at the end of the leash. There were no other customers, only Sandra and her assistant.

Sandra gave me a look of admiration – flavored, perhaps, with a hint of envy. She is also a lesbian dom, with similar tastes to mine. “My, this one’s certainly a find,” she murmured, “how long have you owned her?”

My sister blushed hotly at that, but remained silent.

“Starting today,” I replied. “She’s making her debut.”

“So,” Sandra asked, “what’s your pleasure tonight? Here to get your pet groomed, are you?”

I gave that comment a small chuckle. “I am. Megan here needs a new hairstyle,” I said. “Something young and flirty. Nothing too elaborate. And no dye – I want the carpet to match the drapes.” That last got a laugh from everyone – well, everyone who wasn’t collared.

Sandra nodded, and I handed Megan’s leash to her. She took it and led my sister to her work area. I trailed along, to watch what happened. “This is Rosie,” Sandra murmured, “she’s my best stylist.” I gave her assistant a nod. She was a petite redhead with an incredible ass that seemed to beg to be spanked. I wondered if she had ever been one of Sandra’s pets.

Rosie tried to ask my sister’s opinion on a possible style, but Megan just shook her head meekly and mumbled, “It’s not up to me.” I was pleased to see my sister assuming a subservient attitude so quickly.

Rosie flushed a little, and looked at me uncertainly. I just smiled and told her “Use your own judgment,” and soon she was snipping away.

Megan has light chestnut-hued hair, with coppery highlights. I’d always wished for her color, but she insisted that I was luckier being blond. She never did much with her hair, though. She kept it long, and mostly just let it hang loose or pulled it into a ponytail.

Rosie cut her hair short, about level with her chin, then gave Megan a layered bob with razor-finished edges. It looked marvelous on her, and made her look younger. She was 28, but looked more like a college student with the new cut, maybe post-grad but still fresh and sassy. It looked good enough that I was a little jealous. Megan seemed happy with it, too, gazing in wonder at her image in the mirror.

“Oh, Rosie, that’s perfect! You did a marvelous job,” I told her.

“It really is nice… thank you,” Megan said softly.

“It turned out even better than I expected,” Rosie admitted, as she finished brushing away the loose hairs from Megan’s shoulders.

When she was done, Rosie led Megan back to me, a charmingly bashful expression on her face as she handed back the leash. I thanked her again, and handed her a folded bill.

“Here, this is for you.” Then, offering her my card, I said, “And this is for if you ever decide you’d like to try being on the other end of the leash.” I gave her a smile and a wink.

We got back into the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

“You really do look great, you know,” I said, turning onto the road.

“Thank you. I really like it, and I didn’t expect to,” she said.

A few minutes passed quietly, and then she said, “Can I ask questions? About this, I mean.”

“Of course you can.”

“Why are you trying to make me look younger? I mean, the haircut, and then you dressed me up like I was in – in an X-rated sleepover movie. Is it just because I’m the older sister?”

“No, not really. Though there’s probably a little of that there. Truth is, I just like the look. And since I can tell you what to wear, you have to deal with my tastes.”

She blushed and averted her eyes, but I could tell that this was very intriguing to her. I began to wonder if my sister had naturally submissive tendencies.

We pulled into the parking lot of a popular neighborhood café, which was pretty busy at that time of evening. As soon as I switched off the ignition, Megan put her hand on my arm.

“Do I have to wear this,” and she indicated the leash, “in there?” Her voice was tiny, terrified.

“You belong to me now,” I said evenly, “so you do if I tell you to.”

She was shivering. “Please, Kris… please don’t make me! It’s too – too public. I’m n-not ready.” She placed a hand on my arm. “Please…”

I hesitated. Truth be told, I hadn’t even planned to have Kris wear the leash in the cafe, not feeling the need to humiliate my sister. She didn’t know that, though…  and even if it wasn’t genuine, a touch of mercy given at such an emotionally charged moment might soften her up even more.

“All right,” I said very quietly, very deliberately as I unhooked the leash from my sister’s collar. “I won’t make you. Not tonight.”

Megan was nearly overwhelmed with relief. “Thank you – thank you, Kris!” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I was just afraid–”

I silenced her with a raised hand. “Don’t thank me,” I told her. “Just understand this. I’m going against my own desire as a favor to you. That won’t happen again.”

Her happy face instantly became sober. “I understand,” she whispered.

“One more thing,” I added, my voice still even. Suddenly I grasped my sister’s arm, violently yanking her across the car seat to me. A tiny squeak of alarm escaped her throat. My face was an inch from hers as I hissed, “I will bring you here again, Megan. It might be a week from now, maybe a month, maybe more – but I will lead you in there, and you’ll be wearing this leash. Only by then, you’ll be proud of it, wanting everyone there to know you’re mine.”

She gaped at me, made as if to speak, then stopped.

“Now come on,” I continued, “let’s go.” I got out and crunched through the gravel that filled the parking lot, not even bothering to wait for Megan. By the time I’d reached the door of the café, she was at my side and breathless, having raced across the lot to join me. Pleased, I held the door for her, gesturing my sister inside.

We sat down, ordered coffee and sandwiches, and resumed the conversation.

“So, why is it that you want to put me on a leash, anyway?” she asked, staring down at the table top, still a bit shaken from my display of force. “Is it to – to embarrass me?”

“No, in fact I’d rather you enjoyed it, or learned to. I do it because I like being in charge.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dominance is about control… making you do things. But something like making you pass the salt doesn’t really mean very much – you’d do that anyway. Getting you to do something you wouldn’t normally do is much more satisfying. And pushing you way past your comfort limit can be an incredible thrill – for both of us, sometimes. That’s a big part of it, but there’s another reason: you belong to me, and I want to show you off.”

“That’s… sort of childish, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, sure,” I grinned.

“Okay. So how come you aren’t making me calling you ‘Mistress’, or something like that?”

I made a dismissive gesture. “Hmmmf. That’s just… acting. It’s for people who get dressed up in spiked heels and corsets to play dom-and-sub games on weekends. I mean, if forcing someone to address you as, say, ‘Goddess’, honestly gets you excited, okay. Otherwise, I don’t see the point.” I studied my sister, intrigued by her curiosity. “Any more questions?”

Well… yeah. Why do you let me speak to you without, um, being spoken to first? I thought rules like that were, you know, the kind of thing dominants were totally into.”

I reached out to take Meg’s hand. “Look, sis… you’re mine now, and I’m going to use you as I please. But that doesn’t mean that I’m trying to turn you into a mindless Barbie doll. The reasons you mean so much to me as a sister are the same things that make me want to fuck you. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” she softly replied.

“Now, it’s my turn to ask a question. I know this whole situation is weird, maybe a little scary. But on some level… you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

She blushed, then took a moment to ponder my words before she answered.

“I’m not sure. It’s all mixed up with everything inside. I’m still kind of in shock about things, but I think I might… might like this idea of belonging to someone. You being my sister makes it weird, but I have to admit that the whole idea is definitely – well, it is kind of interesting.”

“Good,” I said, giving her hand a little squeeze. “It’s a start.”

Our food arrived at that moment, and as the waitress left, I glanced into Meg’s eyes and firmly announced, “We’ll finish talking later.” Then I shifted my attention to the plate before me, as if my sister wasn’t even there.

She got the message, and we ate our meal in silence.

Once the plates had been cleared away and the check delivered, I dawdled over my coffee, as if we had all the time in the world. In truth, I was eager to get home with my new toy, impatient to play with her. But I also wanted to give Megan a lesson in the art of submission. Waiting is a huge part of being a slave, and I was interested to see how well my sister could deal with it.

She acquitted herself well – occasionally shifting in her seat, but remaining docile, showing no overt signs of impatience. I was impressed.

Setting down my empty cup and rising from my seat, I announced, “Time to go.” I dropped a twenty on the table, then we exited the café together.

Meg was silent, lost in her thoughts as I drove us home. I could sense her growing tension as I turned into the driveway.

“Leave your bags for now,” I told her as I parked. Meg nodded, a tiny shiver rippling through her when I opened the glove compartment and took out the leash. She paused to see if I would attach it to her, but I simply folded it into my left hand, opened the car door and set off for the front door, my sister following meekly behind.

When we were inside I told Megan, “Lose those shorts and shoes, but leave the rest.”

Once she had stripped down to her thin top and panties, I fastened the leash to her collar, then began to lead her deeper into the house, to my bedroom.

“You’re going to… do things to me now, aren’t you?” my sister said in a small voice.

“Bright girl,” I purred as we entered my room. It isn’t stylish, but it’s luxurious and welcoming. The carpet is plush, with extra-thick padding, so the floor is comfortable for any games I choose to play with my lovers. The furniture is soft, overstuffed, and upholstered in sensuous leathers and fabrics. Finally, there is a large canopy bed with velvet curtains.

I guided us over to a cozy leather loveseat and we sat down, facing each other. Megan was shivering slightly, and it wasn’t because she was cold.

So,” I said, placing a hand on my sister’s bare thigh, “now that you know your situation, do we have a problem?”

“You and me, you mean? Having sex?”

“Yes.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Probably,” I smiled, “but that wasn’t my question.”

“I… I don’t think so.”

“Good,” I said. Lashing out quickly, I seized her hair and jerked her head back, thrilling to the sound of her gasp. I pushed her back against the arm of the love seat and slowly arched her backwards, then I moved forward on my knees until I was straddling my sister’s waist. I looked down into her eyes and said, “Very good.”

Then I kissed her, hard and deep, forcing my tongue into her mouth.

Megan was too startled to react at first, but then she relaxed, surrendering herself to my passion. And slowly, tentatively, she began to kiss me back. She slid her tongue along with mine, responding to my movements but making none of her own.

Finally, I leaned back and sat up, studying her. Meg was flushed and trembling – from sexual excitement or fear? I wasn’t sure.

“Get on the floor,” I told her.

I was still on top of her, so she had to work herself free. I was pleased that my sister didn’t even attempt to get me to move. Instead, she shimmied her way from between my thighs and slid to the carpet. She knelt there before me, the slightest hint of a smile on her face.

My entire body was throbbing with anticipation. Meg seemed to be falling naturally into her role as a sub.

I turned to face her and sat back down, extending my legs out to either side of her. “Now take off my boots and pants.”

She wrestled the tight boots off one at a time, followed by my socks. Then, her lips slightly parted, Megan reached up and unzipped the leather pants. Grasping them, she tugged them down my legs and off. I wasn’t wearing panties, and her eyes widened even further at the sight of my shaved vulva.

“Kiss my feet,” I ordered. “Then my legs.”

Megan looked a little surprised, but took my right foot in her hand, lifted it up, and gently kissed it. Then she surprised me, sliding her tongue between my toes.

I loved the sensation of her warm, wet tongue, I loved watching her service me in such a lewd way, and I loved that it was my own beautiful sister doing it. Pulling off my shirt, I tossed it aside.

Now nude, I leaned back, purring with delight as Megan continued to pleasure me. She had finished with the foot and was working her way up from my ankle using long, soft strokes of her tongue – it was divine. She had to move up and lean forward over my legs as she progressed higher, past my knees. I felt the recently clipped ends of her hair trailing enticingly over my skin.

Soon Megan was licking my upper thighs, and looked for all the world as if she was about to venture in between them without being asked. I burned for the touch of my sister’s mouth on my cunt, but she had unfinished business.

“Don’t forget the other leg,” I said, and she bowed down to begin again with my left leg. I reveled in the gentle point of pressure that was her tongue as it brushed along my skin. Soon enough, Megan was nuzzling my upper thighs again. I reached down to stop her with a firm hand on the shoulder, then pushed her away.

Meg blinked foolishly at me as I guided her onto her back, then straightened myself to tower over her. I stood, gazing down at my new slave, heart racing like a wild stallion as I dreamed of the freaky, twisted incest games I would play with my big sister. I’d been an acting dominant for eight years; but what I now had with Megan was something new, so big and thrilling that it stole my breath away.

This was no time for reflection, though. My slave sister was lying at my feet, ready – if not yet fully willing – to service me.

Slowly, as if I had all the time in the world, I straddled Megan’s face. My eyes met hers, and I smiled. Without a word, I lowered my shaved sex to her mouth.

Megan’s tongue flickered out, barely making contact before jerking back. Then, when the sky didn’t fall, she moved in closer and started licking me with long, slow strokes. She didn’t really have any technique to speak of, but I’d expected that. I simply directed where I wanted her to lick by moving my pelvis, presenting new areas to her tongue, letting her explore the contours and folds of her new lover’s vagina.

It wasn’t long before she seemed to relax and grow a bit more adventurous. A surge of pleasure flowed through me as Meg brought her mouth into play, kissing and sucking at the wet flesh. For someone who, I was fairly certain, had never been sexually intimate with another woman, my sister seemed to have a hidden talent for cunnilingus.

I was shifting my hips as I fed Megan my pussy, squirming atop her face, enthralled by the soft liquid sounds her mouth made while she ate me.

Then I gave my sister another surprise, moving forward and shifting my weight slightly. Suddenly, Megan’s tongue was gliding over the crack of my ass. She froze beneath me.

“No one told you to stop,” I admonished her.

Gulping audibly, she complied. I felt her tongue slip back between my cheeks, brushing my anus.

“Harder… deeper!” I hissed.

And she did it. Her tongue was now burrowing between my cheeks, licking up and down the dark cleft. I was overwhelmed, ecstatic; my older sister was rimming me. Soon she was growing bolder, pressing her mouth into my asshole in a lewd French kiss.

“Oh, such a naughty, dirty little girl,” I moaned, scissoring my nipples with twitching fingers.

I could not believe this was happening. Whatever expectations I’d had of how Megan would respond to being forced into pleasuring me, it was nothing like the reality now playing out on my bedroom floor, with my sister turned slave eagerly feasting on my cunt and asshole.

Believe me, I knew what it was like to be serviced by a reluctant lover – and at that moment, Meg was anything but reluctant.

I let her lick my asshole for a while, then shifted again, guiding her lips to my throbbing clitoris. I couldn’t wait another minute to come; every atom of me was screaming for release.

Grinding my cunt into her face, I rode her mouth while she sucked and licked at me. I could see her glazed eyes from where I sat, and I forced myself to stare into them as the mother of orgasms smashed into me like a tsunami.

I fell forward onto my hands, shivering helplessly as jolt after sizzling jolt of pleasure ripped through my body – and through it all, Megan’s tongue continued to bathe my sex. “Not so fast,” I gasped, “s-slower.”

The movements of my sister’s tongue grew languid, soothing, carrying me down from the peak of ecstasy as my climax dimmed to a comforting haze. My tension dissipated itself with one long, deep breath, and I eased myself off Meg’s face, kneeling beside her.

She was a beautiful mess. Her hair was awry, cheeks flushed, face smeared with my juices. Her lips, chin, cheeks, even the tip of her nose all glistened wetly.

I bent down and gave her another kiss, my lips gently brushing hers. Megan responded with a passion that startled me, her tongue seeking and finding mine. Unable to resist, I returned her kiss with a renewed heat of my own, humming as I savored the sharp tang of my pussy on Meg’s lips.

Finally I pulled away, the two of us staring into each other’s eyes, both breathing heavily. I raised myself into a sitting position, trying to calm my pounding heart, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Up on the bed,” I told her.

Without a word Meg stood, then padded over to crawl, catlike, onto the canopy bed. She twisted herself about to sprawl on her back, her legs enticingly parted to reveal a wet patch on the front of her skimpy panties.

Quickly moving to her side, I roughly stripped my sister of those panties and her shirt, deciding to leave the cute little socks on her feet. “You did that well,” I said to Megan as I undressed her. “Was it really your first time with a woman?”

She blushed, then whispered, “Yes.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see how good you get with a little practice,” I said, then bent to remove a few sexy underthings from a wooden cabinet at my bedside. “Did you enjoy it?” I asked as I sat on the bed and started pulling on a pair of black stockings. Megan was watching me curiously, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“I think so,” she murmured shyly. “It was very different, and not what I expected, but… yeah, I liked it.”

“Good.” I fastened a garter belt around my waist and clipped the stockings to it. I moved back to the cabinet, this time pulling out a nine-inch strap-on cock attached to a harness, which I casually buckled on. Meg’s eyes widened as she took in the size of the thing. I remembered her telling me once about a guy who she’d dated for at least a year, giggling about his small penis. Well, she’d feel every inch of this.

I climbed up on the bed and knelt between Megan’s legs. Leaning down, I gave her a gentle, lingering kiss as I carefully positioned the tip of the dildo at her vaginal entrance. Without warning, I grabbed her hips and dug my knees into the bed.

Holding her tightly, I thrust forward, driving the entire length into her in one powerful stroke.

Megan gave a choked scream and tried to scramble away from the invading phallus. But my grip on her was powerful; she was unable to escape. Instead, she gave me a wounded stare.

“For God’s sake, Kris!” she gasped. “Th-that really hurt!”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t ready for that! You knew it would hurt.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, confused. “But… why?”

“Think of it as an object lesson,” I told her.

“Wh-what?”

“I did it, dear sister, to show you that I can take you however I want, whenever I want. And,” I growled, rocking my hips back quickly and plowing into her again, “soon there will be a time when you’ll love for me to do you this way.”

I didn’t give her time for more words. I plunged in and out of her, fucking Meg with rapid, forceful strokes, giving big sister everything I had. It was harsh, even brutal. I knew that.

But I also knew how on edge she was. She’d been engaged in forbidden sex play for at least half an hour, and had yet to come. She was wet – so wet she squished with each thrust of my cock. She wasn’t ready for me when I first penetrated her, and I’m sure it hurt, but at this point that pain was just more fuel for the fire that roared inside her. After just a couple of those savage strokes I could feel her open to me, her body accommodating my assault.

And on the fifth stroke, she came. Her body arched violently, her fists pounded on the bed.

“Oh… oh, fuck!” she gasped. So I did.

I gave her no time to recover, no respite, no opportunity to catch her breath. I worked my hips like some kind of crazy piston, plunging my cock into her again and again. She bucked furiously beneath me, gasping audibly, fingernails biting into my back. But I continued to give it to my sister, hard, fast and deep.

Before another minute had elapsed, she came for me again. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, OH!” was all she was able to get out.

I moderated my pace after Megan’s second orgasm, using slow, long thrusts at first to give her a chance to recover. Once I heard her breathing normally I settled into a steady, constant rhythm. I pressed my body into hers until we were nearly nose-to-nose, locking eyes with my sister as I fucked her. Our breasts met on each downstroke, nipples occasionally brushing together.

“Put your legs around me, Meg,” I commanded. She drew both legs up to wrap them around my waist, squeezing me tightly with each stroke.

Then she stiffened beneath me and groaned as she burst into yet another orgasm – smaller than the previous two, but still plenty intense.

I claimed my sister’s mouth with mine, kissing her as passionately as I had ever kissed a lover. Her tongue instantly flashed to life, tangling with my own. My head swam, and I marveled once more at how easily my sister had given herself up to me.

She began coming regularly after that. Almost as soon as one was over, another orgasm would overtake her.

Megan’s body was shuddering in near-constant waves of bliss beneath me as she took all nine inches of my prick. That, coupled with the friction from the strap-on against my clit – not to mention the taboo eroticism of this entire encounter – soon had me speedily building to my own climax. As I felt its approach, I slid a hand between me and Megan. I sought out and found her clit, pressing down on the little bud with my finger.

The effect was electric. Her body shook and spasmed helplessly. Her orgasms, already coming closely together, joined into one continuous, raging storm of pleasure.

I kept driving into her writhing body, bringing myself ever closer to my own peak. As I came, I pinched Megan’s clit and twisted it sharply. She arched up, body rigid, and let out a loud keening wail. She held herself motionless for a few long seconds, and at the same time I ground the strap-on into her with my own orgasm. Then she went limp, falling back onto the bed in a sweaty heap.

I stared down at my sister in awe. Meg had come so hard that she’d passed out.

I carefully extracted the wet dildo from my sister’s body, then sat back on my haunches, gazing thoughtfully at her glistening sex. Reaching out to slide a finger through her nether lips, I collected a sample of Meg’s nectar and tasted it. Mmmm, ambrosia.

Unbuckling the strap-on, I tossed it aside. Then I sat down next to her and took Meg’s head into my lap, waiting for her to regain consciousness. A few minutes passed before she began to stir.

“Welcome back,” I said softly when her eyes fluttered open.

She blinked a few times, then gaped at me in disbelief. “Oh, my God,” she said, closing her eyes again.

“How do you feel?”

“Mmmm, a very tired, sore, and worn-out kind of wonderful…”

“I take it you’re satisfied, then?” I asked, chuckling.

“I’m not sure I can feel them – are my legs still attached?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes, very satisfied.” She gazed adoringly at me. “That was… beautiful, Kris.”

Unable to resist a sudden impulse, I murmured, “You did amazingly well for your first time, Meg.” I stroked her face. “Hmmm… I think my pet deserves a special treat.”

And without another word, I slipped out from beneath Meg, then knelt between her thighs. I bent down to kiss her sticky vulva, then began to gently bathe her slit with my tongue, soothing the tender flesh.

I was surprised to find myself doing this. With my other slaves, I only went down on them as a saved-up reward, never for something as ordinary as a good performance in bed. But the hunger I felt at that moment for my sister’s pussy and this sudden desire to give her pleasure was too powerful to deny.

After licking Meg for a couple of minutes, listening to her sighs of contentment, I crawled up the glorious length of her body and into her waiting arms. We kissed tenderly, our tongues mingling for a brief moment.

We slowly parted, and my sister reached up to touch my cheek, her eyes moist.

“I love you, Kris,” she breathed. “I mean, I really, really love you.”

“I love you too, big sister,” I cooed. “Maybe, just maybe, we could forget sometimes that you’re my slave… and you and I can just be lovers.”

“I’d like that,” she admitted. “But not right away, though. I have to learn to be a good slave first. I want to… to serve you in every way you want, Kris.”

I stroked my sister’s moist brow. “When you say things like that, sweet Meg,” I whispered, “you make me very happy.”

She shook her head in amazement. “God, I never imagined I could want something like this. But now it seems so… so right. All those wimpy, boring guys I’ve been with…” She reached out to touch my face. “You understand me better than any of them did, Kris. You know me better then I know myself.”

“Shhh,” I whispered, taking my sister into my arms. “No more talking for now. Relax.”

We lay entwined for several minutes, then I rolled to the side, stretched myself, then told Meg, “Okay, time to get up. We’ve got to get you settled in.”

She rose unsteadily to her feet, then gathered up the few items she’d been wearing. I took my dressing gown from its hook and slipped it on, not bothering to fasten the tie. Reaching for Megan’s leash, still dangling from her collar, I told her, “Come.”

I led her through the house, down a flight of stairs to a room beneath the kitchen area. Opening the door, I ushered her inside.

It was a small-to-medium sized bedroom, with a queen-sized bed and simple furnishings. The room was plain, without much in the way of decoration.

“This is your room,” I announced.

“Servant’s quarters?” Megan questioned after looking around.

“Slave’s quarters,” I replied with a smile. “It doesn’t look like much now, but we’ll fix it up however you want. We’ll discuss that later. Now,” and my voice grew stern, “tomorrow morning, I expect you in my room by nine o’clock. If I’m asleep, don’t wake me, just sit in the chair near the foot of the bed and await my orders. There’s a lot more we’ll need to cover, but it can wait till then. Any more questions?”

Megan shook her head, obviously overwhelmed by it all.

“Well, you’ve had a taste of your new life. Do you think you can handle it?”

Megan smiled and nodded her head. “I do. It’s the hottest, best sex I’ve ever had… and with my own sister!” She clutched my hand tightly, then pressed it to her lips. “I want to be the best slave you ever had, Kris,” she whispered.

“Until tomorrow, then. Good night.” I drew my still-naked sister into my arms and kissed her fiercely, then turned and left, closing the door behind me.

I padded back to my bedroom, confused and concerned by the wild whirl of thoughts somersaulting around in my head.

My personal relations with the women who’d been my slaves – there had been five, so far – had ranged from cool to friendly, though I’d certainly felt a strong physical desire for each of them at the time. You see, a certain distance had to be maintained between keeper and pet, so the pet would do anything – anything – for a scrap of affection or a kind word. It was my most effective method of binding a slave to me, body and soul.

But what I now felt for my sister seemed vastly different. My body was still tingling from the sex we had just shared; I found myself already yearning for more of her kisses. I’d actually gone down on her after our first fuck, instead of my usual approach: to deny a slave the touch of my mouth until she was literally willing to crawl to me for it.

And what was it I’d said to Meg? “Maybe we could forget sometimes that you’re my slave… and you and I can just be lovers.” Where in God’s name had that come from?

Was I falling in love with Megan?

When I had the inspiration of making a sex slave of my sister, it seemed like a great idea if I could get her to go for it. I was feeling a sharp hunger for a new plaything, and I’d lusted after Meg for more than ten years. God knows, she needed someone to take charge of her.

Now I was beginning to think that I’d outsmarted myself. It looked as if this slave might be changing her keeper’s life, just as much as I would be changing hers.

Well, what the hell, I told myself with a shrug as I entered my room. However this plays out, it won’t be boring. 

Sighing contentedly, I shed my dressing gown, crawled into bed, and quickly fell asleep.