Author: DexterXavier
Title: Get Even
Part: 1
Summary: A brother gets fed up with his sister's 
mockery, and their relationship turns violent.
Keywords: mf, m/f, f/m, inc, nc, rape, reluc, piv, 
bd


~~~


The sun beat down harshly that Saturday afternoon. 
Jimmy thanked his lucky stars that his family had a 
pool. The shining water sucked the excess heat from 
him, and buoyed his lithe form as he glided from 
one end to the other.

"Hey Jimmy, get over here."

He grimaced. He was not quite so thankful for his 
sister. "You get over here, Rachel."

"Nuh-huh," she said. "I need you to do something 
for me here. Besides, I'm not getting up. Do you 
see my top being on?"

Without thinking, he snapped his gaze up towards 
her. He cursed himself for being so easy to play. 
Of course she wasn't actually showing anything. She 
laid facing down on a deck chair. Her long, 
strawberry-blonde hair tucked past her shoulder, to 
stay out of the sun's way. Her lean, curved body 
was bare down to her pink bikini bottoms, but 
angles kept him from seeing anything important. The 
ends of her matching top hung down over the chair's 
sides, from where she lay on top of it.

She smirked. Even with her eyes closed, she'd heard 
him turn. "Made you look, you horny little dork. 
Now come on. I'm the boss 'cause I'm older."

"By like ten minutes," he grumbled.

Which put them both smack in the middle of puberty. 
His brain was enough of a mess of hormones and lust, 
and she was hot enough, that she could lead him by 
the balls. The same as she did everyone else. He 
hated that it worked, but it did.

Still muttering, he climbed out of the pool. 
"Alright, what do you want?"

"Good boy." Blindly, she lifted a bottle towards 
him. "Tanning oil, on my back. I'd do it myself, 
but I can't reach."

Well, that wasn't so bad. He drew up a chair next 
to her. The oil felt thick and cool on his hands. 
She gasped when he touched her, but soon relaxed 
into it. She was good at relaxing. The muscles of 
her back were so at ease, they felt soft under his 
touch. Her skin was supple and smooth. He rubbed 
her down all the way to the small of her back... 
and steadily back upwards, just for the sake of it. 
No way did her relaxed body really need a massage, 
but Rachel still purred with enjoyment.

And he liked touching her. The longer he spent in 
contact with her naked skin, the more heat pulsed 
to his hands, to his groin. Some part of him was 
repulsed by those thoughts, some part of his brain 
screaming a reminder that Rachel was his sister. 
But his brain wasn't getting that much blood. That 
voice had only enough strength to make Rachel's 
skin into a guilty pleasure.

Even though he'd long since coated her back with 
oil, she didn't stop him. Quite the opposite: she 
settled in, almost liquid on the chair. "Ooh, 
that's it. You just keep doing that for, like, an 
hour."

He frowned. That kind of presumptuousness, after 
she'd already ordered him up to oil her back? 
Lustful frustration compounded on his indignation. 
On the spur of the moment, he decided to get back 
at her, to get even. He spied the strings of her 
top, still hanging down from underneath her.

He grabbed one, yanked it away, and ran.

"What the--hey! Give that back, you little 
pervert!"

She gave chase, an arm crossed over her chest. It 
wasn't just for modesty. Big breasts like hers 
needed control, especially while she ran.

He led the chase, going inside. He had the head 
start and the edge in basic speed, but wasn't 
invincible. Distraction slowed him down, glancing 
back towards her bouncing chest. He made it to the 
hallway. She caught him, but he turned it around, 
literally. With a spin, he put her back to the wall. 
He couldn't hold the top out of her reach. Instead, 
he pinned her free arm above her head, giving her 
no chance to reach up and take it.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jimmy? Let me 
go!" Her eyes tracked the top dangling from his 
fingers. However she squirmed, she couldn't get 
loose. She had one arm above her head, and the 
other shielding her chest. No way would she--

The latter arm snapped out. He hadn't expected it, 
but he reacted. The top dropped to the floor and he 
wrestled with her until both arms were pinned.

With her at his mercy, he took some time just to 
look at her. A blush covered her cheeks, while her 
bright blue eyes stared at him. Her chest heaved 
with breath, drawing his eye downwards. Big, ripe 
breasts, as beautiful to look at as he'd ever 
imagined. They sloped perfectly, and looked even 
heftier above her tight waist. Pale tan lines 
marked off her usual top, the one now at his feet. 
Pretty pink nipples pointed the way forward.

She fumed, turning her eyes away from him. "So, 
what? You wanted to stare at my tits, is that it? 
Gross."

Again, her mocking words spurred him into action. 
Why should he just stare? He rearranged things 
until one arm barred both her wrists, and brought 
his other hand down. Her breast filled his palm 
with plenty to spare. Her creamy skin slid under 
his fingers, and her flesh was gorgeously soft as 
he gave her a good squeeze.

With a wince, she flinched away from him. "Oh my 
god, are you really that desperate to touch some 
boobs?"

He retaliated, taking her firm nipple between his 
fingers for a long pinch. That made her gasp and 
wriggle. Her back arched toward him, as if to 
lessen the pressure. Then he went right back to 
kneading her, rubbing her. She'd been nice to look 
at, sure, btu it felt even better to touch her. Yes, 
her breasts felt nice, but it was more than that. 
Every cringe fed his lust for retaliation. Finally, 
a chance to get even for all her mocking and 
teasing.

She turned ever redder as he continued. "Alright, 
you've felt me up. Are you done yet? Let me go 
already."

He shook his head. "Not even close to done. I've 
got sixteen years of frustration." He slapped her 
breast from the side, and watched it wobble while 
she hissed in pain.

She started fighting him again. Her arms were 
helpless, but she lifted a knee, ready to kick.

By reflex, he stepped in close, too close for her 
to reach. Something unexpected happened. That move 
pressed his hard bulge into the front of her bikini 
bottoms. Even through the layers of clothing, the 
sensation made them both gasp. He felt heat and 
another softness that caved under his pressure. 
That feeling proved addictive. He rocked against 
her, again and again. He focused so much on it, he 
forgot all about touching her chest.

With each push, Rachel squeaked. Her body grew 
hotter. "What are you doing? C'mon, cut it out!"

His lusts had too much momentum. He couldn't have 
stopped even if he wanted to, and he didn't. Still 
holding her arms up, he pulled his shorts down. It 
felt so much better to grind his bare, free shaft 
against her.

Her eyes grew wide. He thought he saw mixed 
emotions in there -- some fear, some excitement. 
Perhaps excitement from fear. "Wait." She pulled 
back, her ass tight to the wall. Not far enough to 
escape him. "Jimmy, this isn't funny anymore." He 
undid the strings on her bottoms, and let them fall. 
"Stop!"

Instead, he pushed into her wet, waiting pussy. The 
feeling absorbed him, until he barely heard her cry 
of pain and pleasure. It was the best thing yet. It 
only got better as he slid deeper, feeling her 
tightness wrapping around his whole length. With 
each pump of his hips, his movements grew more 
certain. In the end, he just had to let his leash 
go. His body knew what it wanted.

As did Rachel's, despite herself. Her eyes squeezed 
shut and her hips stayed still, but she couldn't 
control everything. She couldn't quiet her voice. 
He heard as her tone turned from anguish to 
enjoyment, with sweet moans of pleasure rewarding 
every thrust. She couldn't keep her inner walls 
from flexing around him, squeezing him in even more 
blissful tightness. Her body had become his to play 
with.

The second he thought that, it was over. The thrill 
was too much, pushing him over the edge. Though 
he'd have liked to keep going, he found himself 
shuddering with climax, crying out in his own, 
lower voice. Without even a first thought, he came 
in her. His cock pulsed within her, spilling 
reckless seed. The orgasm felt like it lasted at 
least a few minutes, well after his cum stopped 
pouring... but it too had to end eventually.

He slumped forwards. Though his muscles grew weak 
and weary, he made sure to use his weight to keep 
her pinned. She glared at him, her cheeks still red 
and her eyes stinging at the corners.

He looked back at her with a languid smile. "Now 
I'm done with you." With that, he dropped her.

She thudded to the floor with an 'oof'. After a 
second's stun, she grabbed her clothes from the 
floor and got back to her feet. A pregnant pause 
lingered while she stayed in shock, staring at him 
and processing what had happened.

Then she slapped him hard, ran into her room, and 
slammed the door.

A moment later, it hit him. He'd just forced 
himself on his sister, of all people. Cold horror 
settled into the pit of his stomach. The lust was 
gone, replaced only by that chill of self-revulsion.

He retreated to his room and didn't come out all 
day. He couldn't face her. He didn't want to. At 
the night's end, he spent hours lying awake, trying 
not to think about what happened.


~~~


He must have fallen asleep at some point, because 
he woke up in the dead of night. Consciousness came 
slowly. Darkness surrounded him. His bed felt 
uncomfortable, like it had weight on it at a bad 
angle. He fidgeted, and turned to try to get more 
comfortable.

Then he really woke, like water had been splashed 
in his face. Because he couldn't move, not very far. 
Something held his arms in place above his head. He 
tugged a few times, figuring out the texture of it.

He didn't think it felt like rope, not that he knew 
what that would feel like. After a few more tries, 
he figured it out. "Bedsheets?"

"Well, yeah." Rachel's voice. "It's not like you 
keep proper handcuffs or anything in here. Like, 
god, I can only work with what you give me to work 
with." She said it like he was somehow at fault for 
not making it easier for her to bind him.

He felt the heat rush to his cheeks. Guilt 
forgotten, he just fumed and struggled, trying to 
get his wrists free by pure force. "Hey, what are 
you doing? Let me go."

"No way," she said. "It's payback time, little 
brother." Smug malice overflowed from her tone.

She threw a leg over his lap, straddling his thighs. 
As he tried to shove her off, he found that his 
ankles were tied just like his wrists. Unless he 
could get something free, he wasn't going anywhere. 
He didn't like his chances, but he fought anyway. 
Right up until Rachel's hand found him.

It wasn't a strike. It wasn't violent at all. Her 
fingers just went to his boxer shorts, tracing his 
manhood. In the summer heat, those shorts were his 
only bed clothes. "Ooh. You're already getting nice 
and hard, aren't you?"

"You... you shut up!" But he couldn't actually deny 
it. He was shocked, horrified at the fact, but fact 
it remained. His manhood swelled, straining at his 
boxers even before she started teasing him. He 
tried to tell himself that it was just because of 
the excitement, the dangerous thrill that came with 
conflict. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he 
thought of what had happened just a few hours 
earlier. He thought of how intensely good her body 
had felt under his. Was it really any surprise that 
he'd grow excited at her being close again?

She just laughed, mirthful mockery in her tone. "Aw, 
no comeback this time? Having some trouble now 
you're the one on bottom?" Her fingers kept moving, 
and he had to fight to keep from crying out with 
her touch. It was more than just teasing, too. She 
found the button on his boxers. With that open, she 
could easily fish out his length.

He hissed at the conflicting sensations: the cool 
air of his room and the warmth of her fingers. The 
latter gripped him, and she jerked him with soft 
little tugs.

"What the hell?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. 
"Did you just break in here to give me a handjob? 
What's wrong with--" A sudden spasm of pleasure 
made him arch up, moaning aloud.

Right up until her hand clamped over his mouth. 
Even in the dark, he could tell she was glaring 
daggers at him. "Make a sound, and I tell everyone 
about what happened this afternoon. As for jerking 
you off... well, I have to make sure you're big 
enough I'll actually feel it."

With that tease as warning, she shimmied closer on 
her knees. He felt the hem of a soft nightshirt 
brush along his thighs, and onto his stomach. The 
shirt flipped up just enough to get out of their 
way. She lowered herself, letting him feel her soft 
lower lips, already heated by her excitement. She 
didn't take him in just yet, oh no. Instead, one 
hand kept him cupped against her slit. She teased 
herself back and forth, caressing her entrance with 
him. Though she kept her voice quiet, she still 
began to sigh with pleasure.

She leaned farther forward, pressing into him. He 
was trapped in so many ways. His limbs were held 
fast, no matter what he tried. Her weight bore down 
on him, keeping him pinned to his bed. And the part 
that made his toes curl and his heart stutter: she 
trapped his length between her slit and his own 
stomach. She didn't even need her hand anymore. She 
just rolled herself back and forth, grinding at a 
steadily increasing pace. As far as she leaned, her 
breasts dragged over his chest with each move. He 
could feel the heat of her breath tickling his neck, 
his chin. He clenched his teeth to keep himself 
quiet. Not because of her threat, but to keep her 
from getting the satisfaction. He wouldn't let such 
a simple grinding get the better of him.

But it had only ever been foreplay. Now, Rachel 
started the main event. She lifted her hips with 
one more slow drag, only to ease herself down and 
truly onto him. She took her time with it -- or 
maybe it just felt like she did, with how Jimmy's 
body screamed for the pleasure she withheld. Her 
breath hitched as she took him in, little by little, 
until her hips finally dropped onto his own.

Her body tensed into an arch, the motion pressing 
her down all the harder, while her sex flexed and 
squeezed around him. She didn't moan, but he still 
heard how her breath went still for several seconds. 
However she tried to hide her pleasure, he could 
feel the racing of her heart in how it made her 
inner walls pulse around him.

Once she had control over herself, she continued. 
First came a shuddering sigh, the closest she'd 
come to voicing her pleasure. Then she started to 
move, rising and falling, impaling herself upon him. 
Each motion had more measure to it than when the 
tables had been the other way around. She dragged 
it out, keeping him stuck underneath her. Not just 
under the stroking of her sex, either. Her fingers 
fanned out, playing across his bare chest and 
stomach. The sensations came as a curious mix: 
simple, squeezing pleasure in a slow trickle, with 
more shuddery and ticklish feelings underneath her 
fingers. His toes curled, his hands balled into 
fists, but he forced the rest of his body to remain 
still. However much it hurt to get so little and so 
slowly, he wouldn't let her win. While she could 
ride him -- he couldn't do anything to prevent that 
now -- he was not going to let her make him help.

Which suited her just fine. She held that slow pace 
by herself. While he found it torture, she drank it 
in, letting her pleasure build piece by piece. It 
took time, with the occasional spasm across her 
body. He felt it in the curling of her fingers 
against his chest. When her sex fluttered and 
squeezed, it took his breath away -- but still, he 
refused to let it make him moan.

In the darkness, he couldn't make out more than her 
outline. That was enough for him to tell when she 
arched again, tossing her head back with a sweet 
sigh. In one whisking motion, she stripped off her 
nightshirt and discarded it. Though he could tell 
she'd stripped, he couldn't actually see her. He 
finally did groan, with frustration as much as lust.

That drew some laughs from her, soft and musically 
pleasure-toned. "Aw. You want to see me naked again, 
don't you?" She leaned over him, far enough that he 
could feel the shifting of air as her chest wobbled. 
Yet, he couldn't feel her skin on his. "I bet you'd 
love to ogle me again. Love to get your hands on me. 
Aw, but you can't, can you?" her fingertips traced 
his chest once more, before moving to her own body. 
"I'm the only one with free hands here. Maybe I'll 
be nice and tell you about it." She sat up straight 
again, putting more of her weight down onto her 
hips. "Ooh, these breasts are fantastic. So big, 
just the way you like them. So firm when I leave 
them alone, but soft and squishy if I give them a 
good squeeze. And my nipples? So pretty and pink, 
and when I pinch them..." She drew a sudden gasp, 
and he felt her inner walls clamp down around them. 
"Feels sooo good. But not nearly..." Her breath 
grew laboured. "Not nearly as good as my clit. Oh, 
it's throbbing right now. Oh. Ohh." 

He listened closely, not just to hear her whispers. 
He heard the slip of skin on skin as she drew 
fingers over herself. He heard the slap of her ass 
hitting his thighs, again and again. The wet, slick 
sound of her pussy sliding on his dick, of her 
fingers working her pearl. Damn the darkness, he 
could almost picture it.

Then she came. He knew it first from the 
convulsions of her sex, squeezing him like a 
fluttering vise as white-hot nectar flowed over his 
thighs. It was a vast change from her slow ride, 
the squeeze giving him a sudden rush of pleasure. 
He had to clench everything to keep himself from 
the edge. The motions rippled throughout her body, 
even slapping her thighs against his sides. She 
muted her voice as much as possible, but he still 
heard a quiet scream, muffled behind her hand.

The storm passed. She was still tight around him, 
but nowhere near the crushing grip she'd had in the 
midst of her spasms. He was harder than stone, but 
he'd lasted. He relaxed, adding a sigh of relief to 
his hurried breaths. "There. You're done now, 
right?"

Rachel gasped a few breaths. He was ready to take 
that as a 'yes', when she finally spoke. "Not until 
you are." She moved again, rising and falling. This 
wasn't as soft as the last. She bounced on him, 
slapping herself onto him. It made a hitch in her 
voice, but she pushed through. "You liked this. I 
could tell. I'm not going to stop until it's 
completely undeniable. I'm going to show you -- 
your body's mine, feeling just as good as I want it 
to."

He'd dropped his guard. He wasn't ready for her to 
ride him like that. That, as much as the sex itself, 
let his orgasm creep up on him. Such a slow build 
had made a behemoth of climax. In the dark, he saw 
stars, sparks leaping amongst them as the ecstasy 
raced through his body. He could finally no longer 
control his hips. He thrusted up into her, pushing 
each spurt of his load deeper, farther. He couldn't 
control his voice, either, and so she closed a wet 
hand over his mouth. It was nothing like when he'd 
had her against the wall. It had a much longer burn, 
lingering in his loins and heating his whole body. 
The pleasure felt like it could last forever. When 
he'd been in control, it was over in a flash. His 
sister knew what made him feel good, better than he 
did. And she could give it to him, whether or not 
he asked for it.

Bliss ebbed slowly. It turned from waves crashing 
hard enough to bowl him over, and into tides 
lapping at his feet. The pleasure was still there, 
lingering, but it had become so much less intense. 
And yet, even that afterglow level was far greater 
than anything he'd given himself.

She sighed with satisfaction. "Now I'm done." With 
a soft breath, she drew her slit off his softening 
manhood. "See you in the morning, little brother." 
As she picked up her clothes, fatigue hit him. 
Sleep came much easier than it had when he'd laid 
himself down, and he passed into darkness for the 
evening.