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http://www.incesttaboo.com/incestgrrl

[Story Name] Sisters learn spanking can be hot
[Author] Unknown
[Type] Brother/sister

Ok, get this.  I'm bi.  It makes it easier in this business.  There's
a good supply of male clients for my services, and an even better
supply of women.  A lot of my clients are high power people, people
who spend a lot of their day controlling other people.  Then they come
to me, and I do the controlling.  And while I enjoy dominating a man,
I treasure dominating a woman.  So I don't charge them as much.  It's
still hard work.  Dreaming up scenarios, and making sure you know how
much your client can endure takes energy and imagination.  It's damned
hard work.

Still, I get off on it.  No, I didn't torture cats as a child.  I
simply
found out that I enjoyed spanking people, and there were people around
who
liked to be spanked.  It just grew from there, and for that I have my
sister
Karen to thank.

I guess it started when I was put in charge of my little brother and
sister.
Mom and Dad both started working evenings when I was fifteen, and I was
put
in charge until 10 p.m. So if I caught Karen or Joey being naughty, I
spanked them.

A spanking was very simple then.  Karen was twelve and Joey was only
eight,
and they tended to fight like the dickens.  If they were just being
mischevous, I tended to let things slide just as Mom would.  But if
they
broke something, or one of them hit the other, the offending party got
spanked.  I simply led them into my bedroom, explained what I was going
to
do and why, had them remove outer garments, and spanked them on their
bottoms thru their underwear.  Then I sent them off with a loving
admonishment.  I never had to spank either one of them more than once
or
twice a month.

Until I was seventeen and a senior in high school.  One night, while I
was
studying, I heard Joey scream, and there was Karen, looking smug, while
Joey
grimaced and said she had hit him.  When I asked, she confirmed it.  I
marched her into my bedroom, delivered the ten smacks I considered
appropriatte.  She didn't seem at all concerned during my "lecture,"
which
made me a bit angry.  So I think I spanked her a little bit harder than
usual.  She marched merrily away when I was finished, pulling her jeans
up
as she walked.

And then the next night, she did the same thing.  Out of nowhere, she
slapped Joey.  And I spanked her again.  Two nights later, the same
act.  I
spanked her, but I spoke to Mom about it, too.  Apparantly, Mom's
lecture
hit home, somewhat, because Karen never struck Joey again, not for
thier
whole lives.  But Karen still made trouble, in different ways.  One
night it
was refusing to get ready for bed.  Another night it was refusing to do
her
chores.  For a week, I let it slide, because I really didn't want to
spank
her too much.  Or maybe, as I can see from this end of things, maybe I
was
afraid that I was enjoying it too much.

Well, one night Karen walked up to the table, and without saying a
word,
spilled cola on my homework.  No accident, this was absolutely
predetermined, and designed to piss me off.  Well, one week of her
pranks,
refusals, and just plain nastiness had me pretty angry with her, so I
ordered her into my room.  I dispensed with the lecture, announced that
tonight I I was going to spank her until her bare bottom was red.
"Bare?"
she asked.

"Yes, bare!"  And without furthur adieu, I put her over my knee, pulled
down
the panties of her baby doll nightie, and began to deliver twenty of
the
best.  Karen squirmed, Karen squiggled, Karen fought, and Karen yelped.
 I
delivered ten on her right buttock, and ten on her left buttock, wide
handed
smacks which left red impressions of my long, thin fingers on her soft,
white skin.  When it was over, Karen leapt from my lap, and I realized
that
her breathing was ragged.  She ran from the room, and I heard her door
slam.
I might have felt sorry for her then, except that I was too
flabberghasted
at my own reaction.  My pussy was dripping wet, my breathing was
ragged, and
my clit was on fire.  It wasn't the eroticism itself that unnerved me.
I
was no stranger to sex.  No, it scared me to think that I was enjoying
it
this much.  Scared me a lot.  And with my sister ...


A week went by.  I tried to be especially nice to Karen, and lenient to
both
brother and sister.  But Joey, pissed off at Karen over another of her
shenanigans, had hit her.  I walked in on the fight just as Karen was
readying a swing at Joey, and called it to a halt.  After determining
that
they were both at fault, I took Joey into my room, gave him the
lecture, and
spanked him thru his pajama bottoms.  As he went, I realized that even
though I had taken it easy in administering the blows, I had had a very
definite reaction.

I called Karen in.  I gave her a lecture about teasing Joey, and called
her
over my knee.  "Not bare this time?" she asked, and she looked
disappointed.
"No, not bare, " I said, and then I realized what was going on.

"You enjoy this?"  I exclaimed. It was as much an exclamation as a
question.

"So do you," Karen countered.

"NO I DON'T," I cried, and I grabbed her, took her over my knee, and
began
spanking her panty-covered butt.  But inside, I knew she was right.  I
did
enjoy it.  There was a definite charge to being in control, to having
Karen
or Joey subservient to me.  And it was erotic, too, in a way that I was
somewhat afraid of, especially since it was my sister who seemed to
provoke
the stronger reaction.  After I had delivered ten very cry-provoking
strokes, I caught my breath and stopped.  I was breathing very hard.
So was
Karen.  She was moaning.  Even though I had stopped, she was wriggling
her
bottom as if begging for more, as if I was still delivering blow after
blow.

So I did.  I pulled her panties not just down but practically off, down
to
just above the knees so she couldn't kick her legs, and I proceeded to
give
her ten on the right butt, then ten on the left butt, then another ten
right, another ten left, until I felt myself shudder in a small but
potent
orgasm.  I grabbed Karen tight lest she fall, and she did this amazing
thing
which at once shocked and pleased me.  She turned and grabbed me around
the
waist, and reached up to hug me tightly.  She forced her legs around my
knee
and in a few seconds, she too was having an orgasm.  Then we lay
together on
the bed, breathing heavily, sighing, embracing.

Then, after I somehow dragged myself up and started Joey on the road to
bed,
Karen and I talked.  Karen, it turns out, had been "enjoying" the
spankings
for a long time, almost a year.  She would leave my bedroom for her
own,
pull off her panties and rub her bruised skin and moist pussy until she
came.  "I wanted you to spank me.  I wanted it so bad ... so I acted as
bad
as I knew how."  As she said this, she put her arms around me, nuzzled
my
neck.  It was at once comforting and unnerving.

She was a sweet kid, if mischievous.  And precocious.  She was
obviously
more comfortable with her sexuality than I would have been at her age.
Good
enough in school, popular with a great many of her schoolmates, she was
quite a bit unlike me.  I had been more of a loner, an intense studier.
Teachers respected me for my work; they respected Karen for her
personality.

And Karen was also one thing I was not ... Karen was very, very pretty.
 Oh,
she was still a kid, really.  She was fourteen and a half, and going
thru
all those female body changes.  Her hips were still slender, but her
tits
were round with high, proud, rosy nipples.  Her hair was long,
straight, and
black, and it sort of naturally stood off her face.  Parts of Karen
still
looked twelve, other parts of Karen looked sixteen.  But all parts of
Karen
looked good.

I had had no inkling that I might enjoy a lesbian encounter, and would
never
have thought of anything involving my own kid sister.  And yet ... I
couldn't deny that I'd enjoyed spanking her.  Or deny that I'd enjoyed
her
reaction.  Or deny that I was enjoying having her arms around my waist,
her
head resting on my breasts.

But I said none of this to her, I simply kissed her, and sent her off
to
bed. Yet over the next few weeks, I had fantasies regarding Karen,
fantasies
involiving spanking, caressing, and a whole lot more.  In waking hours
I
wondered just what Karen would be willing to take, and how it might be
arranged.  Images of Karen bound to the bed, helpless, blind- folded,
never
knowing where or how I'd touch her ... images of her excitement and
anxiety,
not to mention my own.  And other thoughts came to me .. of Karen, on
my
orders, licking my tits, my ass, my pussy.  And images of what
pleasures I
could bestow on Karen, and the humiliating poses or situations into
which
she might be put.

While these thoughts took shape within me, I let Karen get away with
her
rebellion ... for awhile.  For even as I wrestled with these thoughts,
I was
also using them to plan what was to be the seminal experience in my
sexual
career...

Almost a month passed.  I had no reason to spank either Joey or Karen
in
that time.  I had not had a date, nor much contact with my friends,
either.
Whatever Karen had awakened in me, it was consuming me.  When my plans
had
gelled, I began watching for infractions.  Karen didn't disappoint me.
I
think she was itching for it, too, for her behavior towards me, (not
towards
Joey,) steadily grew more rebellious as the month went by.

I was fixing dinner for Joey, Karen and me, and Karen was due home from
the
library at 5:00 p.m.  Six o'clock approached, and Karen was still not
home.
I sat Joey down, and while he ate, I went to my room and got an
envelope
with a letter I had prepared for Karen.  I left it out on my bed, and
returned to supper.  At 6:30, Karen breezed in, acting as if nothing
was
amiss.  I instantly set upon her, let her know I was angry with her,
and
that she would be punished.  She shot me an angry glare, but I could
tell
that this was just what she, too, had been waiting for.  I told her to
go up
to my room, read the letter on the bed, and wait for me.  I promised to
bring her some dinner.

Karen left, feigning rebellion.  Joey said "She's really gonna get a
talking-to, isn't she?"  I nodded.  When we had finished, I cleared
away the
food, and while Joey washed the dishes, I prepared a sandwhich for
Karen.  I
asked Joey if he'd done his homework, and he nodded, so I let him go
down to
the basement to play and watch TV.  He liked to turn the TV down there
to a
high volume; I was, tonight, inclined to let him.

I waited about fifteen minutes before ascending the stairs, carrying
the
sandwich.  I wondered if Karen would be in my room or not. For here is
the
text of the letter I had written:

      "Karen.  You have once again disobeyed our house
      rules.  I therefore order you to put yourself at my
      command for your punishment.  You will submit to
      whatever I command.  I will not tell you much about
      what I plan for you, but it will involve spanking, and
      you will be restrained.  If you do not accept this, I
      will inform Mom and Dad that I can no longer control
      you and that the task of disciplining you will now be
      in their hands.  If that is so, I will not expect to
      find you in my room when I get there." 

      "However, if you are in my room, I will assume you have
      accepted my terms.  In that case, I wish you to prepare
      my room and yourself for your punishment.  In the
      bottom drawer of my chest you will find a black shoe
      box, and several towels.  Place one of these towels on
      the bed, and lay out all the items you find in the
      black box.  One item will be a black velvet choker.  I
      want you to put that around your neck." 

      "Next, I want you to place the big ottoman in front of
      the mirror.  If you are dressed, you are to remove all
      your clothes except your bra and panties. Fold them
      neatly and lay them on top of my dresser.  If you are in
      nightclothes, then I wish you to remove your nightgown.
      If this leaves you naked, then you may wrap yourself in
      a towel.  Then you are to sit on my bed and await me."


I knew what I hoped she'd do, for I was beginning to enjoy the slightly
evil
feelings which were welling up in me.  And when I opened the door, I
smiled
inwardly, for there was Karen, in her bikini panties and lacy bra,
sitting
anxiously with her hands knotted between her bare knees.  Around her
neck
she wore the black choker.  On the bed was the towel, several leather
thongs, and a pingpong paddle.

I put the sandwich on the dresser.  Karen's eyes went to it.  "You may
have
that later.  First you must accept your punishment.  Are you prepared
to do
everything that I command?"  Meekly, Karen nodded.  I exclaimed, "That
won't
do!  I must hear you agree," And I held her arm, tightly but without
malice.
"Do you accept my terms?"

"Yes," Karen said, in a hushed, rather fearful voice.  Was she having
second
thoughts?  She probably hadn't counted on my demanding that she
undress, and
it was easy to infer from the letter that I wanted her naked for her
ordeal.
That implication, I guess, had been enough to turn rebellion into
anxiety.

"Good."  And I went into my large walk-in closet to prepare myself.  I
stripped everything I was wearing, tossed into a corner of the closet.
I
took care to see that Karen could not see me as I put on the black
panties,
the black bra, the black peignor, and the black leather gloves.  Then I
stepped into my black high heeled shoes (only three inches ... back
then I
knew nothing of what was expected of me!) and strode out into the room.
"STAND!"  I ordered.

Karen stood, and there was fear in her eyes.

"Strip!" I commanded.  Karen hesitated, and I grabbed her arm.  "Delay
only
brooks more punishment, Karen ... "  She shook free, took a few steps
back,
and proceeded to remove her bra.

Heaven help me, but when she took her bra off and let her tits swing
free, I
almost had an orgasm then and there.  That she had obeyed me, that she
was
agreeing to expose herself to me, these were new and exciting ideas to
me,
and I welcomed the feelings I experienced at my very first very sight
(since
Karen's puberty,) of her high, proud breasts, with the uptilted nipples
pointing to the ceiling.  To think that sometime in the evening I would
feel
those small, round globes, feel them at my desire if not hers ...

And then she had removed her panties, and stood naked, the only flesh
hidden
from my eyes the small band covered by the choker.  I knew in that
moment
that women would now be a part of my sexual life, for the rush I felt
far
eclippsed anything I'd ever felt while looking at a man.  Yet, too, I
knew
it was not just that Karen was my gender, but that she was my sister,
and
this made it all doubly forbidden, and therefore doubly enticing and
exciting.

As I picked up bra and panties from the floor, I saw that Karen's eyes
were
downcast, her hands folded lightly over the small triangle of pubic
hair.  I
leered at her, and commanded her to look me in the eye.  "Look forward,
and
do not move.  You are my slave now."  Karen obeyed.  I could scarcely
beleive the power I had over her.  "Hands at your sides.  And part your
feet."  She did so, and I caught a bit of trembling as I circled her,
admiring her slim hips, her small, round butt, her high breasts, her
slim
waist, her lovely nose and eyes.  She didn't move an inch, despite her
nervousness.

Then I reached out to touch her.  I did not do this suddenly, rather I
slowly extended my fingers toward her nipple, and even as I watched, I
could
see it harden in anticipation.  I suppose she had expected I would
cause her
pain, that I would tweak it between my fingers ... and I would, soon
enough.
But for now I simply reveled in the anxiety I caused her, and I simply
put a
single gloved finger to the nipple and let it rest there for a moment.
Then, slowly, I put two fingers on either side of the nipple, resting
them
against her rockhard aiereole. I could feel her brace for the pain ...
but I
did not squeeze, simply began rolling the nipple in my fingers until I
heard
her begin to breath with sexual tension.

Then I pinched and pulled in a quick motion.  Not enough to really
cause
pain, but enough to shock Karen out of her reverie.  Karen stiffened at
that, and a tear formed in her eye.  No, she had not counted on such
devastating cruelty.  And neither had I.  I was aghast at how naturally
all
this was coming to me.  So I moved on to the actual punishment, the
delivering of blows.

"Lay down on the ottoman, and put your hands behind your back," I
ordered,
and she did so, but slowly, tentatively.  I fought the urge to grab her
and
force her down.  The ottoman was high enough that her knees comfortably
touched the ground, and broad enough so that her whole torso lay on
top, her
head hanging just a bit over the edge.  Her hands lay limply upon her
back,
and I bound them together with one of the leather thongs.  I then
ordered
her to spread her legs, which, surprisingly, she did without question.
Thereupon, I bound her knees to the legs of the ottoman with two more
leather thongs.

Then I stood back to drink in the scene.  Binding her knees had spread
the
cheeks of her ass just enough that her buttocks were flattenned just a
bit,
which made them more vulnerable.  It also gave me a glimpse of her
cunt,
which I appreciatted, a bit to my surprise.  There was also just a hint
of
her breast flattened against the ottoman, jutting out from beneath her
torso.  It all made her look so helpless, so vulnerable.  And for a
moment,
I had a twinge of guilt, of doubt.  Yes, Karen had, in her way,
suggested
this, yet I had probably carried it out beyond her capacity to imagine
it.
I worried that I was hurting her.

Then she started straining against her bonds, trying to raise herself
from
the ottoman.  That brought me right back, and I moved to sit on the bed
beside the ottoman.  I said, quietly but forcefully, "Stay down and
still.
And not a sound!"  Again, surprising me, Karen obeyed.  I put my hands
on
her buttocks, felt the smooth skin, caressed it, kneaded it ... and
then I
said the word "One," and delivered a stinging slap to Karen's right
rump.
Karen shook with each of the twenty blows I delivered, ten on each
buttock,
but her breathing was deep and heavy when I again kneaded the now pink
skin
of her butt.  I picked up the paddle, and again announced "ONE!" I
delivered
ten blows with the paddle, five to each buttock, and I could see the
pain in
Karen's face as each stroke fell.  But I could also smell the distinct
odor
of musk rising from her pussy.

I proceeded to caress Karen's butt, powdering it and rubbing in some
mineral
oil.  Every few seconds, however, I gave her a quick slap, at random
intervals, so that she never knew when a blow was coming.  This, I
could
tell, was really exciting Karen, for she was squirming not in pain but
in
ecstacy.  After about ten minutes of this, I decided to switch tactics.
 I
let a bit of mineral oil drip down into the crack of Karen's ass, and
began
massaging her anus and her vagina.  But I would not let her acheive
orgasm
yet.  She was crying out my name in erotic agonay when I stopped.

I was beginning to get quite hot myself, and I was deter- mined to have
my
release before allowing Karen hers.  I untied Karen's from the ottoman,
but
bound her knees together, then led her, still on her knees, to the edge
of
the bed.  I sat down on the bed with my legs spread around her, and
ordered
her to bring me to orgasm by whatever means she might devise.

This was really a night of surprises for us both.  For Karen didn't
hesitate, which I found astonishing.  Eagerly, hungrily, Karen reached
for
my cunt with her mouth, kissing it, licking my thighs, forcing her nose
against my clit, chewing at my panties with her teeth.  She managed to
pull
my panties to one side with her teeth, and then she proceeded to dart
her
tounge into my cunt.  I was on fire, not just between my legs, but all
through my body.  I tried to prolong it, savor the feel of my sister's
face
against my most private parts, and I did the best I could.  But the
whole
scene was so intoxicating that in just a few minutes, I forced my hands
hard
against Karen's head, as if it was possible to bring her closer to me
than
she already was.

And then I exploded.  Noisily, too.  I thanked heaven for the orgasm,
thanked heaven too for the noisy TV I could still hear from the
basement.
When the spasms subsided, I held Karen's head close to my crotch,
stroking
her hair gently for many minutes.  I could feel Karen shivering, and
realized that it had been a turn-on for her, as well.  I found I wanted
to
pleasure her now, but I also wanted to retain my power over her.  I
continued stroking and caressing Karen's hair while I reviewed my
options.

Meanwhile, Karen was wriggling her way up onto the bed, despite her
bound
wrists and legs.  I used the opportunity to assert my supremacy.  I
stood
up, grabbed Karen by the arm, and dragged her back to the ottoman.  I
untied
her knees, ordered her to spread her legs, only this time, she was on
her
knees and looking straight into the mirror.  I placed the ottoman over
her
lower legs and bound her ankles and knees to the ottoman's legs.
Finally,
to complete her helplessness, I slipped a final thong thru her bound
wrists,
and tied them firmly to her waist.

I took a moment to simply look at her tied there, helpless, and felt
heady
with power.  I stood to her side, but easily within her view, and began
to
undo the bra I wore.  I approached her, my tits jiggling, and placed my
bra
lightly over her shoulder.  I don't know what made me do what I did
next,
but it was inspired, I think.  I removed my panties, still wet and
heavy
with my odor, and I arranged them on Karen's head so that her eyes were
visible thru one opening, with the moist spot directly over her nose.
I
pulled the panties tight against her face and secured them with a
safety
pin.  She was shaking, fearful, I think that I was about to punish her
again.

And in a strange, erotic way, I was about to punish her.  Not only was
she
placed in what had to be a humiliating, helpless pose, she was forced
to
confront her own image in the mirror.  And with the smell of me in her
nostrils, too.  I walked right up to her, my pussy only inches below
her
face.  I reached down with both hands and caressed her breasts until
her
nipples were hard.  Then I walked behind her, and ran my hands over her
skin, especially over her still reddened buttocks.  With my left hand,
I
reached around and took hold of her nipple, squeezed and rolled it in
my
hand until Karen's face was full of pleasure.  With my right hand, I
squeezed and carressed her rump.  Then, in unison, I tweaked at her
nipple
and slapped her rump.  If she had not been so well bound, Karen would
have
jumped ten feet at the shock.  Then I returned to caresses again,
occasionally pinching her nipple, occasionally slapping her rump
softly.

When I could see her start to squirm, I moved to straddle the ottoman
and
sit behind Karen, and I reached around with both arms to cover her
breasts.
This was all even more intoxicating for me, for I was very aware of her
against me, her back against my breasts, her hands bound behind her and
against my belly, and the sight of her reflected in the mirror.  Both
of us
could see my hands against her body, both of us could see the reaction
the
scene was having on her, both of us could see the wild animal passion
in
Karen's eyes.

I pulled really close, let one hand drop between Karen's legs and began
to
caress cunt and breast all at the same time.  In her ear I whispered
"Not a
sound ..." and Karen managed, although how she managed, I do not know.
For
now I was doing her in earnest, ravaging her neck with my teeth, biting
softly in areas where her hair would cover any marks.  And I was now
kneading her breasts with my left hand, and the fingers of my right
hand
were busily exploring the precious cleft between her legs.

As I said, Karen continued to surprise me.  For even as I drove her
closer
to the brink, even as I felt her begin to quake and shiver against me,
Karen
reached with her bound hands to make contact with my own dripping cunt.
This drove me wild, and I began rubbing my hand against her clit with a
force I hadn't meant to apply.  But Karen was a trooper, all right, she
took
it all as pleasure, not pain, even when it clearly hurt.  I moved both
hands
down to her cunt, spreading her lips with my left and delving along the
wet
cleft with my right.  It took every ounce of concentration I had to
continue
servicing Karen, but when I felt her finger enter my cunt, go deep to
rub
against the pulsating tiny toungues which lined my vagina, I could no
longer
contain myself.  I had not meant to do this, but I, too, slipped a
finger
into Karen's cunt, and added to the preassure on both our clits, our
fingerings pushed us both over the edge.  And to be able to watch it
all in
the mirror ...

I think I blacked out for five or six seconds after I came, it was so
intense.  When I came too, I spasmed for close to five minutes.  Karen,
who
I now held lightly against me, was shaking wildly, and I realized that
my
finger was still deep inside her, my palm still hard against her clit.
But
Karen wasn't complaining.  Even bound as uncomfortably as whe was, she
was
reveling in it, and when she came, it was with such force that she
almost
knocked me off the ottoman.

When the spasming was over, and both of us were still, Karen delivered
the
final surprise of the night.  For as soon as I had loosed my panties
from
her head, she turned her head over her shoulder, reached around and our
lips
made contact.  Her toungue darted out to part my lips.  And to my own
surprise, I let them be opened, and we kissed fondly and deeply.  I
untied
her completely, and she removed my bra and panties, and we lay down
naked
together on the bed.  That there was still passion to be aroused was
pleasantly amazing, and we wrapped our legs around each others' thighs
and
rocketed each other to one more earth- shattering orgasm.

When our senses cleared, I kissed her and held her, and we giggled a
bit,
feeling closer than we had in years.  Presently, Karen said, "You know
what?
I could eat four of those sandwiches!"  I laughed too.  I put on my
bedclothes, noted the time, and went off to put Joey to bed.  I found
him
practically asleep in front of the basement TV.  I turned the TV off,
which
woke him, and he ambled off to bed at my command.  I returned, a pair
of
sandwiches in hand, and found my room arranged in its usual order.
Karen
was still lounging naked on the bed, though she had a towel draped over
her
hips.  I joined her, but I did not undress.  We ate our sandwiches,
laughed
and talked, cuddled and caressed until we heard our parents coming up
the
driveway.  With a final kiss, Karen grabbed her clothing and ran for
her
room.  But not without saying "I can't wait for next time ... "

I went down to greet Mom and Dad, with those words echoing in my ears.