How much pleasure she got out of obeying me.
By the end of the week, I felt like I was going crazy. During the day, I was avoiding my sister, afraid of inadvertently giving her another command, another instruction that she’d blush with pleasure while she obeyed.
Each night, I was rubbing one out while imagining exactly that. Imagining the look on Kim’s face as I told her to kneel, to serve me, to fulfill her purpose.
As I told her she was my good girl.
On Friday night, I decided I couldn’t take it any longer. My dick had lost the earlier battle, but it had won he war. I knocked on my sister’s door, walking in before she could answer. Before I could talk myself out of it.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I found: my sister, kneeling on the floor. She wasn’t on her phone, she wasn’t reading anything. She was just kneeling, like that was how she was most comfortable.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Oh hi,” she said, looking up at me with a smile. My cock was already hard, but I’d tucked it into my waistband so she couldn’t tell.
“H-hi,” I said. She didn’t make any move to stand, and both of us blushed at what was happening. My sister, kneeling submissively in front of me. In front of her brother.
In front of her master.
As Kim continued smiling at me, I realized that I didn’t have a plan. Not really.
“Stand up,” I ordered, and Kim’s eyes lit up as she obeyed. She was wearing a very similar outfit to what she’d worn in the attic; a pair of shorts that showed off her legs, and a white tank top that hugged her small breasts. I took a moment to admire her body once more; she was slender, but with nice curves. Feminine without being busty.
She wasn’t my type, I tried to remind myself. I liked white women with huge chests. But I’d just spent a week jerking off while thinking about my sister’s body, and it was getting harder to remember what my type *was*.
My sister trembled with pleasure as I stared at her small round breasts, her flat stomach, those wonderful legs that seemed to go on for miles.
“Kneel down again,” I instructed breathlessly, and Kim complied immediately, taking a knee in front of me once more.
I could have done that all night, just instructed my sister to stand and kneel, watched her blush deepen each time she did.
But I wanted more. I needed more. I’d been so cautious in the attic, and a litany of unanswered questions had been running through my mind ever since.
What if I asked her to do more? What…what would my sister do, if ordered?
“Stand up,” I ordered, enjoying the shiver of pleasure that went through my sister’s body as she obeyed. “Come here.”
Kim moved forward until she was standing directly in front of me, so close that I could practically feel her breath. I didn’t know what to do…I’d never been with a woman, I’d never so much as kissed a girl. My sister couldn’t be my first kiss, could she? What if I did it wrong?
What if she rejected me?
“Are you wearing a bra?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer, and a look of confusion passed over my sister’s face.
“N-no?” she replied.
Crap. Had the question been too sexual? Too weird?
Or was it because I’d asked a question, instead of giving a command? Kim craved submission and obedience, but maybe that didn’t include…I dunno, interrogation.
“Tell me what day it is,” I ordered, and the look was back. It was almost like drowsiness, like when my sister was told what to do part of her mind switched off.
Maybe it did. Maybe it was like my battle with my cock – in order for my sister to go against her self-confident nature, her brain had to give up control to her pussy.
Or maybe it was just that if she were just following orders, she didn’t have to think. She only had to obey.
My cock twitched at the thought.
“Friday,” she replied breathily, and I smiled.
“Good girl.”
She didn’t cum. I don’t know if it was because she’d followed so few orders, or if last time she’d still been under the direct thrall of the tape, or hell – maybe she’d just gotten off before I came in, and the kneeling was a post-orgasm thing.
But unlike in the attic, my sister didn’t cum when I called her a good girl.
That’s not a complaint, to be clear. Her response to my compliment was still pretty damn hot.
Kim’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a silent gasp. Her entire body was flushed now, and her nipples were hard little nubs poking through the thin fabric of her tank top.
“Tell me what color your panties are,” I asked, my voice hoarse. Kim’s eyes widened, and I saw a silent struggle take place inside her mind. “That’s…that’s an order.”
She caught her breath at that, closing her eyes as though her response to my words was overwhelming her, like that simple phrase was too hot to handle.
But after a few moments, they opened again, staring into mine.
“N-no,” she said, sounding like it was an intense effort to get the word out. She looked like she had when first listening to the tape, when she’d managed to start standing up. “No. I…I can’t.”
“Kim…” I began, but my sister set her jaw, looking more like herself than she had all week.
“No,” she said again, putting her hand on my arm and firmly guiding me to the door. “I’m sorry, b-but…no.”
She closed the door behind me, and I looked back at it, stunned.
Shit.
Chapter 3
It took me a while to process what had just happened. I stood outside my sister’s room, my mind whirring.
She’d all-but-cum when I’d thanked her for turning the lights on, but when I’d told her to tell me what color her panties were – not even show, just tell me! – Kim had suddenly found a backbone, and kicked me out of her room.
I’d assumed the tape had made her a complete submissive, ready to obey my every command…but my first instincts had been correct.
The tape was only one of three, after all.
As I was standing there, reflecting on what had happened, I heard it.
A sob. Coming from inside my sister’s room – a single, loud sob. She must have thought I’d left (I’d been standing there for at least a minute), that it was safe to let it all out.
For a moment I felt incredibly guilty. I’d made my sister cry, something that I don’t think she’d done since our father’s death.
I know I hadn’t.
For a moment I wanted to return to her room, offer her a brotherly shoulder to cry on. But even as the impulse hit me, I knew it wouldn’t happen.
Maybe that sounds awful, but…I dunno. I know myself. I know my family.
We’re not built like that.
The sob wasn’t followed by another. I pressed my ear against the door, briefly considering running to the kitchen for a glass. Does that really work, or is it only a thing in cartoons?
But I didn’t need it. Even through my sister’s unlocked door, I could hear exactly what she was saying:
“There is no greater pleasure than to please my master. I was born to serve.
“To live is to serve.”
My eyes widened as I listened to my sister repeat the entire contents of the video, word-perfect. Was she even aware she was doing it?
I had to stifle a groan at the thought. For reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand there was something incredibly hot about the idea of Kim not even knowing she was saying it. Repeating a mantra of submission, completely unaware of the words coming out of her mouth.
I listened as she finished the entire spiel, spending several minutes parroting what Kiki the geisha had ordered she say. Then, to my delight, she began again.
I left halfway through the third repetition, too worked up to listen any longer. As I came onto my stomach that night, that was the image running through my head – my sister, kneeling (somehow, I knew she was kneeling) beside her bed, mindlessly pledging her submission to her master.
Pledging her submission to me.
***
For the rest of the week, I experimented with what commands my sister would and wouldn’t follow. Cautiously, at first, sticking with the most mundane requests: “Open the window.” “Grab me a soda.” “Tell me what the weather’s like outside.”
But I was quickly emboldened, as each and every command was met with the same response: a flushed face. Immediate, unhesitating obedience.
And then, when I thanked her, staring directly into Kim’s eyes, a bite of the lips and a full-body shudder.
So long as it wasn’t sexual, it seemed that my sister was *extremely* happy to obey.
I started pushing things. Still nothing directly sexual, but…certainly the kinds of requests that no brother should make of his sister.
“Kneel beside me while I read.” “Take my shoes and socks off for me.” “Clean my flute with your tongue.”
No, that isn’t a euphemism. I’d played flute for a decade and a half, and there was something incredibly hot about the idea of watching Kim lick my (literal) instrument clean.
I think that was the instruction she’d enjoyed obeying the most – perhaps just because it had taken the longest. For almost half an hour I watched as my sister used her tongue to remove any trace of dirt or grime from my flute.
My pants grew tight as she maintained eye-contact, her entire body visibly thrumming with pleasure as she obeyed my command. When she was finally done, Kim was panting, staring me in the eyes as she kneeled in front of me and told me she was done.
“Good girl,” I responded, and for the second time, was rewarded with the sight of my sister’s orgasm. I watched as she gasped and trembled, her eyes rolling back in her head as she came, her body quaking in the aftermath.
“Th-thank you,” she finally gasped, her eyes wide as she gazed up at me.
That’s when I tried again. Something less extreme than last time, but still definitely sexual.
“Tell me how much you enjoyed that,” I ordered, my voice breathy, my tone firm.
Again, it was like a silent war was waging inside my sister. It was clear that she wanted to obey, that she wanted to do as I commanded. It was like her every pore was urging her to do it, to serve her purpose, to obey her master.
But, just as I thought there was a chance I’d succeeded, that Kim was going to describe the pleasure I’d just given her…it was like someone flipped a switch, and the sexy, submissive Kim vanished.
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