DISCLAIMER
The following story contains explicit descriptions of
sexual activity and is intended for the entertainment of
adults only. If depictions of sexual acts offend you,
please stop reading now. If you are under the legal age
to read this sort of stuff in your area, go do something
worthwhile and stop polluting your mind with this crap.
Finally, some of the things depicted in this story are
dangerous or unethical; please don't try this at home.
For whatever it's worth, this work is copyright (C) 2000
by The Sinner. You're welcome to download it for your
own enjoyment. You're welcome to repost it to any
newsgroup or on any website as long as you include the
entire work without any alteration (including the
author's byline and these fun little paragraphs at the
beginning). If you do repost it, I'd appreciate it if
you let me know about it; I like to know where my
stories get to.
I welcome any and all comments from readers.
- The Sinner thesinner@bad-candy.com
http://www.asstr.org/~sinner/
--------------------------------------------------------
I would like to thank Mark Reed and JM for their help in
proofreading various parts of this story and catching a
few embarassing mistakes. Any remaining embarassing
mistakes are entirely my own fault. I'd also like to
thank Cal O'Shaw for his many wonderful ideas and
suggestions, for the feedback he provided during the
writing of this story, and for suggesting the title.
--------------------------------------------------------
TV Guide
Chapter One
Alex sighed inaudibly as his sister entered the living
room. Her red hair fell in glistening curls over the tan
skin of her shoulders. A tight blue sweater showed off
her shapely breasts, while the black miniskirt hugged
sleek legs that balanced expertly on shiny black pumps.
Alex felt his young cock stirring at the sight. Damn,
she was hot.
And she knew it, too. Her thick, ruby-red lips turned
upward in a sneer as she caught him leering. "Get a good
look now, Alex. No girl's ever gonna dress up like this
for you."
Alex looked away, his face burning in shame. Katrina
snickered rudely at his discomfort as she took a seat on
the couch across from him. "I feel so sorry for you,
Alex. All that pent-up horniness, and you're never going
to get laid. You're going to spend the evening jacking
off again, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not," Alex replied lamely. It didn't even sound
true to him, so there was no way Katrina was going to
believe him. Especially not after she'd caught him in
his room a few months ago, masturbating in front of his
computer.
"Oh, come on, little brother, don't try to deny it." The
sneer left her face, to be replaced by a mischievous
grin. "Tell you what. Just for the sake of charity, I'll
help you get started. If you pull that cock out right
now and show it to me, I'll show you my boobs."
She was teasing him. There was no way she'd go through
with it. Alex sighed and turned away, looking at the
floor, too embarrassed to get up and leave. His cock was
incredibly stiff.
"Come on, little brother. This is the only chance you'll
ever have to see a great pair of tits without paying for
it. Just pull out the old dick and let me see it. Or are
you afraid?" she taunted.
Alex's cheeks burned. He turned back to look at his
older sister. "No."
"Come on, Alex. What's the matter? Am I not as pretty as
your little computer-sluts?" Alex's shame burned anew.
He'd known she would bring this up. She teased him about
it constantly. "Are they hotter than your big sister?"
Katrina taunted.
Alex's eyes involuntarily flickered down her voluptuous
body. The truth was that Katrina's sixteen-year-old body
was the equal of anything Alex had seen on a computer
screen. Her shapely legs, her taut ass, her round, firm
tits... Alex thought about the chance to see those tits.
His hand moved to the snap on his jeans.
"There you go, brother," Katrina encouraged.
He undid the snap and began to unzip his fly. Katrina's
eyebrow arched in surprise. Alex found himself pleased.
He was finally calling her bluff. He pushed his jeans
and underwear down and his cock sprang free, standing
upright with the most powerful erection he'd ever
experienced. Katrina gasped and her mouth made an "o" of
surprise. Alex grinned.
But his victory proved hollow as Katrina collapsed into
laughter. "That's your prick? It's so tiny!" She doubled
over in mirth as Alex felt his exuberance of a moment
before fade into the familiar misery of defeat. Katrina
continued to laugh. "Well, I suppose it's just as well.
It's not like any woman will ever get a chance to be
disappointed by it!"
Just then the bleating of a car horn was heard outside.
Katrina jumped up off the couch. "Well, I gotta go.
There's my date. Have fun stroking your toothpick,
little brother." She grabbed her purse off the dining
room table as she hurried out of the house.
Alex looked down at his rapidly deflating erection. He'd
never realized he was so inadequate. He slumped his head
in misery as he heard the door slam behind Katrina.
Upon reflection, Alex decided that the diminutive size
of his prick was hardly any surprise. His whole body was
scrawny and underdeveloped. At fourteen years of age, he
was a mere four feet ten inches tall, weighing just
ninety pounds. His skinny frame guaranteed that girls
never looked at him. Katrina's harsh words about his
unattractiveness had hurt because Alex knew them to be
true.
Alex's physical frailty seemed undeserved. His father
had been a professional football player. At forty-three,
Greg Young, the two-time all-pro linebacker, was still
well-muscled and handsome. His first wife, Alex's mother
Doris, had been an Olympic swimmer and had kept her
lithe figure until her untimely death two years earlier.
Their first child, Katrina, had inherited her mother's
good looks, although where the mother's hair had been
blond, the daughter's was a fiery red (a product of her
father's Irish heritage), and her body tended toward the
voluptuous where her mother's was more athletic. Like
her father, Katrina was prettier than she was smart,
scraping by in her classes while climbing the high
school social ladder by cheerleading and dating the
captain of the football team.
Alex, on the other hand, was an anomaly. He had
inherited neither athletic prowess nor physical
attractiveness from his parents. After a disastrous
season of peewee football when Alex was ten, his father
had finally accepted the fact that his son was not going
to be enshrined someday in the hall of fame in
Cleveland. Unfortunately, that hadn't stopped him from
forcing Alex to try a dozen other sports, from
basketball to ice hockey to lacrosse. Each had been a
piece of hell for Alex. Finally, after four years of
this, Greg had come to accept that his his son was not
going to be a household name in any sport, and had
stopped trying to force the issue. Alex knew that in his
father's eyes, he was a failure.
If his deficiencies didn't seem to come from his
parents, neither did his one great strength: his brain.
Alex's intelligence had been certified by a series of
school counselors as genius-level. He'd taught himself
how to program a computer by age ten, and in so doing
had discovered the one true love of his life. The family
had been well off, thanks to Greg's football career, and
where Katrina had an expensive car to drive to school
and a closet full of fancy clothes, Alex had a modern,
high-powered computer in his bedroom. His father told
himself he was encouraging his son's gift. The reality
was that the computer was simply an excuse for poor
parenting; a way of throwing money at his son rather
than trying to understand him. Doris had been the only
member of the family that had ever really cared for
Alex.
The computer at least entertained Alex. He got up off
the couch and went back into his bedroom, sitting
himself down in front of the machine. As long as he had
his fly unzipped, he figured, he might as well jack off
now. And he was getting horny again; with his sister
gone, the shame that had suppressed his libido was
rapidly fading.
He pulled up a picture-viewer and began stepping through
the hoard of pornographic pictures he'd downloaded off
the internet. The pictures flashed up one by one:
classy-looking women bedecked in pearls and lace,
trashy-looking women in plastic and spandex. They were
all pretty. But in his eyes, none of them was as pretty
as Katrina.
Damn! And he'd never even seen her topless. Now that the
moment was past, he realized that even if her boyfriend
hadn't shown up at an inappropriate moment, she probably
wouldn't have shown him her tits anyway. The thought of
seeing his sister's body consumed him. He stepped
through the pictures faster. Maybe one of them would
look enough like Katrina that he could make do. Or
maybe...
Well, why not?
Alex hopped up and ran down the hall to his father and
stepmother's bedroom. He snatched up the picture of
Katrina that stood on their dresser next to his own
picture and ran back to his room with it. Excited, he
removed the large color glossy from its frame and
slapped it down on the face of his full-page color
scanner.
A few mouseclicks brought up some high-powered
photo-editing software. The scanner hummed a bit and the
picture of Katrina's face popped up in a window next to
the picture viewer. The scan was excellent. The picture
was only a couple of months old, having been taken at
the school's annual picture-taking day in September.
Katrina was almost as gorgeous in the picture as she was
in real life.
Fighting his erection, Alex began paging through the
porn pictures. Several minutes and about a hundred
pictures later, he found what he was looking for. The
picture depicted a busty, raven-haired bimbo cupping one
melon-sized tit for the camera while spreading her pussy
open with her free hand. With growing excitement, Alex
tabbed the scissor icon from the photo-editor and used
it to cut Katrina's face out of the portrait. He then
scaled his sister's face down to match the size of the
bimbo's face, and pasted it in on top.
The result was a picture that seemed to depict Katrina
in a lascivious pose, offering herself sexually to the
viewer. The effect was crude, to be sure, especially due
to the fact that the woman had black hair where
Katrina's was red, but Alex's imagination was capable of
smoothing over the rough edges.
No longer able to restrain himself, Alex pumped
furiously at his cock. In some small way, he felt like
he was avenging his humiliation at Katrina's hands. Take
that, bitch, he thought. I can jack off to your body any
time I want.
"Okay, kids, we're leaving," Tiffany announced as she
opened the door and stepped out.
"Bye, Tiffany. Bye, dad," Katrina called from her
bedroom. Greg had been remarried for only a year, and
neither of the kids called his second wife "mom" or any
other maternal title. In Alex's case, it was due to
resentment over his mother's death. In Katrina's case it
was probably because the blonde cheerleader was only
about six years older than she was.
"Bye, honey," Greg responded as he followed his wife out
the door. He paused to look back once at Alex. "You do
as your sister says while we're gone, understand?"
Alex nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."
His father grunted with approval as he turned and left.
It humiliated Alex that his father thought him incapable
of even behaving himself while they were gone. He was
fourteen, after all. He didn't need Katrina babysitting
him.
Katrina strode out into the kitchen, fixing her earrings
as she went to the phone. "Eric's coming over after
Hagen's Brook is over, squirt. I expect you to be
scarce. Understand? Or I'll make sure Dad and Tiffany
know about showing me your prick. Got it?"
Alex knew better than to protest. Katrina was the
favorite child; he was the disappointment. Regardless of
the facts of the matter, Greg would believe anything
Katrina told him. She'd already demonstrated this
several times, making up stories about Alex misbehaving
simply to get back at him for things he'd done to
displease her. Katrina held the upper hand, and Alex
knew that he'd better do what she wanted. "Fine," he
muttered, trying to put enough surliness into his tone
to maintain some dignity, without going overboard and
angering his sister.
"Good," she replied. "You just go back to your room and
jack off with your computer, and everything will be just
fine." Alex glared at her back as she walked into the
living room. But the glare soon turned into a fascinated
gaze as he watched her skirt-covered ass swing
enticingly back and forth. God, she was hot.
Alex poured himself a glass of milk to take to his room
as he heard the anguished dialogue of talentless teen
actors emanating from the living room. The show, Hagen's
Brook, was one of Katrina's favorites. Her interests lay
primarily in cheesepuff dramas about beautiful teenage
kids. Alex found that sort of stuff revolting, but his
sister lapped it up.
It almost seemed to Alex sometimes that Katrina's life
was just an attempt to emulate what she saw on TV. His
sister was obsessed with her own appearance, constantly
primping herself and freshening her makeup. Even when
she was at home, she constantly strove to maintain that
air of fashion-model perfection, even to the point of
always making sure her hair fell smoothly across her
shoulders, or always keeping her lips pursed exactly so.
In addition, she was also constantly concerned with her
social standing at school. Her current relationship with
the captain of the school football team seemed to be
based not so much on any personal attraction as on the
fact that he was the captain of the football team. And
she spent hours on the phone, gossiping constantly about
the social scene at her school, verbally dissecting the
finest details of who was dating who, who was angry at
who, who was wearing what, and all manner of minutiae
that Alex found utterly meaningless.
The whole effect seemed to be that Katrina wanted to
behave like the characters in TV shows she watched. She
wanted to be beautiful, she wanted to be popular, and
she wanted to have a fascinating life. Like the TV shows
were programming her or something.
The show was almost over, which meant that Katrina's
neanderthal boyfriend would be arriving soon. Alex got
his milk and walked back to his bedroom. Even had
Katrina not threatened him, he really had no desire to
expose himself to Eric's presence.
Closing the door to his room behind him, Alex fired up
his computer and sat down. He heard the faint sound of
Eric's car pulling up in the driveway. Well, at least he
had a few hours alone. There was a new software package
he wanted to try.
The program was called FaceMaker. It was a high-end
graphics rendering tool designed to create realistic
simulations of human faces. Alex had gotten it
mail-order on Greg's credit card for about five hundred
dollars. His father and stepmother were willing to pay
for his computer hobby as long as it didn't get too
expensive.
Alex booted up the program and began investigating. It
seemed to allow the user to scan a photograph of a face
into the computer, specify a few key points, and then
animate the face. The face could talk, smile, frown, or
show any of a large number of emotions. Quite
interesting. Alex played around with the demos included
before moving on to the reason he'd bought the package.
Two weeks ago, when he'd scanned the picture of his
sister's face and pasted it onto the picture of a nude
woman, he'd opened up a whole new world of excitement.
He'd pasted his sister's face into over a dozen
pictures, enjoying the effect each time.
But the technique was limited in its usefulness. For one
thing, it only looked realistic with a very small number
of pictures. The woman in the picture had to be facing
straight toward the camera, and the lighting in the rest
of the picture had to be just right in order for the
composite to look realistic.
Also, Katrina's face was always smiling prettily. It was
a gorgeous smile, but when the body it sat on was
offering itself lasciviously to the camera, the sweet
smile seemed rather inappropriate.
Alex loaded up the picture of his sister's face and went
to work. A few clicks of the mouse identified critical
areas for the program -- eyes, lips, nose, chin. And
then Alex clicked on a button, and his sister's angelic
smile turned into a childish pout. He almost laughed at
the effect. Smiling, he clicked again. Now she was
pursing her lips at the camera, eyelids hooded sultrily.
Another click and her tongue was running across her
upper lip. God damn, she looked hot like that.
Through the wall, he could hear Eric's futile attempts
to get Katrina to have sex with him. But Alex knew she
wouldn't, because all the good little high school
princesses on TV didn't let their boyfriends fuck them
unless it was a very special moment. Alex chuckled at
Eric's pleas. Too bad for Eric that Katrina had been
programmed for chastity by those teen dramas. If Katrina
had developed a taste for porn, Eric would be a happy
camper right now. Katrina was defined by the TV she
watched.
A thought struck Alex, causing him to sit bolt upright.
If Katrina was defined by the TV she watched, could
he... It seemed ludicrous on the face of it, but he
rolled the thought around in his brain. It would require
a few new pieces of hardware, and some high-powered
software. He'd also have to do some programming himself.
But there didn't seem to be anything really impossible
about the idea. Could he really reprogram his sister?
He sure as hell had to try.
Alex leaned back, smiling contentedly, as the program he
had just finished hummed happily along. Another program,
running simultaneously, was showing a frame-by-frame
breakdown of the video output. The program showed a
series of images from "Sixty Minutes." Every sixtieth
image, however, was something different -- a photograph
of a buxom blond-haired porn queen gazing lasciviously
at the viewer. It had taken him a few days to get his
new program running properly, but the effect was now
just what he wanted.
After his brainstorm a week ago, Alex had gone to the
local electronics store to pick up the gear he needed --
a high-powered video card for his PC, and several feet
of matching cable. The video card worked with some
coding and decoding software he'd downloaded off the
internet.
The Young family TV was connected to one of the new
digital satellite dishes, a small unit that sat on top
of their house. The cable from the dish carried signals
from the satellite to a box on top of the living room
television, which then picked out the appropriate
channel for display.
Alex's computer, however, had now been surreptitiously
inserted into this chain. Thanks to a well-hidden hole
Alex had drilled from one corner of the living room into
his bedroom, the signals from the satellite dish now
went to his computer first, where they were decoded by
the video board.
That was where Alex's new program came in. The program
monitored the incoming programming, looking at which
programs were being aired on the various channels. When
the program being aired was one of Katrina's teen dramas
-- Hagen's Brook, Richfield High, Daytona Shores, etc.
-- the program would remove one frame out of every sixty
and insert an image of Alex's choosing in its place.
The effect would be unnoticeable to the conscious mind
of the viewer. The television displayed sixty frames per
second, so the inserted image would only show as a brief
flicker -- far too brief to register on a viewer's
conscious mind. But her subconscious would notice, and
would, in fact, be affected by it. Alex hoped the effect
would be strong enough to achieve some interesting
results. Putting the pouting blonde into Sixty Minutes
was just a test, of course.
After the images were inserted, the whole stream of
video was sent back to the video card, which then
recoded it and funneled it to the box on top of the TV.
No one but Alex would know what had happened. And since
the program could access the scheduling information the
satellite dish received, it could automatically start
functioning when any of the specified programs came on.
Alex just had to specify which programs he wanted
modified, and supply the images to be used.
And making the images was going to be the fun part. Alex
fired up FaceMaker and loaded Katrina's face into the
program. He clicked on an icon, and watched as his
sister pursed her lips at the camera, eyelids hooded
sultrily. Another click and her tongue was running
across her upper lip. That was more what he wanted. He
pulled up a photo of a busty redhead thrusting her bare
boobs proudly at the camera. It took him a few minutes
of fiddling with lighting angles and viewpoints on the
face program, but eventually he had a decent match. With
a bit more work, he was able to transplant Katrina's
modified face to the nudie picture.
Alex sat back and examined the result. It was still a
bit crude -- the face was quite literally rough around
the edges. But it would pass casual inspection, and it
was certainly good enough to be used for subliminal
suggestion. For the most part, it looked like his sister
was lewdly proffering her tits to the viewer. He was
pleased.
Now that he had the technique down, he realized he was
going to have to put some thought into what to do with
it. He'd done a little bit of research in the school
library on subliminal suggestion techniques. In the
course of this, he'd learned that the most effective
methods were those that combined a visual image with a
textual message. It had something to do with influencing
both the language center and the vision center of the
brain at the same time. Stimulating both at the same
time was, in theory, dramatically more effective than
stimulating either one alone.
So it would be best to combine text with pictures. But
what was he going to try to do? Getting Katrina to fuck
him straight off the bat was probably out of the
question. Best to start small. His gaze drifted to the
picture he'd just constructed, the one of Katrina baring
her breasts. Well, why not?
He pulled up a text editor and began to brainstorm. "I
like my tits," he wrote. Hmmm. "I want men to talk about
my big jugs." That was another good one. "I love to show
off my big hooters."
His mind raced, and his fingers struggled to keep up.
Katrina stretched as she rose off the couch, using the
remote control to turn off the closing credits of
Richfield High. It had been a fairly interesting
episode, but it had left her feeling a bit... odd. It
was nothing she could put a finger on, but for some
reason she felt strangely conscious of her breasts. In
fact, she'd felt the same effect the last several times
she'd watched TV.
It was ten o'clock, and she knew she should really be
getting to bed. She needed to get a full eight hours of
sleep to look her best. And she had cheerleading
practice tomorrow, so she'd have to spend extra time on
her appearance.
She yawned as she walked to her bathroom. Katrina was
quite proud of the fact that she had her own bathroom.
She'd spent most of her life sharing a bathroom with
Alex, but she'd finally been able to convince her
parents that a girl with her social obligations (she was
a cheerleader, after all!) really needed her own
bathroom, and they'd had a new one put in just last
year.
Katrina washed her face, looking at herself in the
mirror. Her gaze was drawn to her cleavage. The
low-necked T-shirt she wore clung tightly to her ample
bosom. Her eyes traced the curves of the shirt,
examining the size and shape of each breast. It occurred
to her that she had a nice set of boobs. Sure, she'd
always been pleased with her chest, but she'd never
found it so... interesting... before.
She straightened up and pulled the shirt off over her
head, leaving only the white cotton bra covering her
breasts. There they were, firm and round. It was a
shame, she thought, that she didn't get to show them off
much. They were a fine pair of knockers. Men, she
thought, would go crazy over jugs like hers.
Jugs. Yeah, jugs. Men called them jugs. If she had a
chance to show them off, men would talk about what nice
jugs she had. The thought was exciting. She brought her
hands up to cup her hooters. Hooters, yeah. That was
another good name for them. She could picture men
talking behind her back about what a nice set of hooters
Katrina Young had.
Leaning forward, Katrina thrust her chest at the mirror.
Her tongue slid out of her mouth and ran along her upper
lip as she cupped her tits. Tits. Oh, yeah, they were
fine tits. That was what the men would call them.
Katrina swooned at the thought. Nice tits, babe, they'd
say. She reached one hand out to the counter to steady
herself as a wave of arousal swept over her. God, if
only she could show them to someone.
Well, there was someone she could show them to. Someone
she should show them to. Could she? Could she show her
tits to her brother?
She swooned again as the word "tits" passed through her
mind. She had to. Katrina fought to calm her breathing
as she pulled the shirt back down over her torso. Yeah,
she really owed it to Alex. She had, after all, said she
would show him her boobs if he'd show her his prick. And
he'd kept up his end of the bargain. Not keeping up her
end of the deal was really a shitty thing for a big
sister to do. And, she reflected, she'd been pretty
shitty to Alex recently. Of course, she never should
have made that deal. But now that she had, the only
thing for it was to keep up her end of the bargain. Yes,
she really had no choice.
She left the bathroom and strode down the hall to Alex's
room.
Alex closed up his History book, figuring he knew as
much as he was going to know, and that any more studying
wouldn't help him. He hated history. It wasn't like math
or science, both of which came easily to him. History,
like English, was a lot of work. A lot of reading and
memorizing. He was about to get ready for bed when he
heard a knock at his door. "Come in," he said. He was
quite surprised to see Katrina walk in. Katrina never
came to his room. It seemed almost beneath her to be
here.
"Hi, Alex," she said softly. It wasn't her usual tone.
Jesus. Did that mean that the subliminal messages had
worked? He'd inserted a few messages telling her to be
nicer to him, hoping that they might make his day-to-day
life easier. Could it be that it had actually worked?
"Hi, Katrina," he responded, as casually as possible.
"Uh... what's up?"
She bit one lip in seeming apprehension. "Well, I was
thinking about the deal I made with you a few weeks ago,
the one I broke. You know?" She didn't pause for an
answer, but blurted on, "Anyway, I thought I should make
it up to you. So..." Again, before Alex could react, she
crossed her arms over her chest, gripped the bottom of
her shirt, and pulled the shirt up over her head.
Alex's jaw dropped as Katrina's magnificent boobs came
into view. He'd seen them before, of course, when
Katrina made use of the family pool. But this... this
was different. She'd taken her shirt off just for him,
and now all that stood between those magnificent jugs
and his eyes was a thin white bra.
Katrina shook her hair free of the shirt and looked at
him nervously. She reached behind her and worked her
arms. Alex stared even more incredulously as she timidly
pulled the bra forward off her chest, leaving her tits
fully exposed.
Now this he'd never seen before. Katrina's breasts lay
fully exposed before his eyes, the full, round mammaries
topped by soft brown areolae and pert little nipples.
Alex had seen hundreds, even thousands of bare breasts
on his computer screen, but these were the first he'd
seen for real. And they were the most beautiful pair of
tits he'd ever seen.
And more importantly, these breasts meant that it
worked! His scheme was actually working, influencing
Katrina to do things she wouldn't normally do. His mind
spun as he thought of the possibilities. What were the
limits? He was going to have to find out. Maybe next he
should see if she'd show him her pussy. Or maybe even
let him touch it...
"So what do you think, huh?" Katrina asked, startling
Alex out of his reverie. Jesus, here he'd been so busy
thinking about what he was going to do with his new
power that he'd almost forgotten there was a gorgeous
girl standing in front of him topless.
"Uh... well..." His mind raced. What had he put in the
messages? "That's... that's a f-fabulous pair of tits,
Katrina."
Her eyes closed and she groaned softly, her body sagging
against the door frame. Alex's eyes widened in
amazement. Had his words really had that effect on her?
The programming couldn't have worked that well, could
it?
Against his better judgment, he pushed his luck. "I
mean, those are really great jugs you have there, sis."
She moaned again, louder this time, stumbling as she
momentarily lost her footing. Jesus, it was amazing. The
bitch was practically getting off on what he was saying.
"I doubt there's another girl at our school with a rack
like yours," he added.
She gasped, her back arching. "Th-thank you, Alex," she
panted. "I... I have to get to bed." She turned and ran
from the room.
Alex sighed. Ah, well. He would've preferred to spend
some more time looking at those breasts. But then, it
had been fun discovering just how well the programming
had taken. He shut the door before sitting down at his
computer and pulling up the current series of subliminal
images.
There was a series of a dozen composite pictures
depicting Katrina baring her chest to the camera. And
then there was an equal number of plain text messages --
simple red letters on a green background. He'd refined
them since his brainstorming session. The first one read
"I like it when men look at my tits." The next one was
similar: "I'm proud of my beautiful boobs, and I wish I
could show them off." This was followed by "I wish men
would notice my fine jugs," and "I get hot thinking
about men admiring my tits." The last couple were a bit
different: "I really should try to be nicer to Alex,"
and "I need to keep my promises to Alex."
Alex grinned as he reread them. They seemed to have
worked perfectly. The question, of course, was what to
do next.
Katrina slammed her bedroom door and jumped onto her
bed. She hadn't bothered to replace her T-shirt as she
ran down the hall. God, she felt so horny. She lay on
her back, one hand slipping quickly between her legs to
her sex, while the other cupped cupped her beautiful
tits.
Tits. Yes, fabulous, gorgeous, mouth-watering tits.
Knockers. Boobs. Jugs. Oh, God! Her hand worked
furiously between her legs as she pinched one erect
nipple, then another. She'd masturbated before, but it
had never been like this.
It wasn't long before she came, her back arching as she
gasped in sweet release, a wave of pleasure crashing
over her. Her tits were so sexy! She continued to fondle
them as the orgasm passed over her, her hands kneading
and cupping the soft flesh of her wonderful tits.
She'd really have to do a better job of getting them
noticed.
Chapter Two
Alex whistled softly to himself as he manipulated the
image on his computer screen. Life seemed to be going
quite well for him recently. That, of course had a lot
to do with his sister. In the two weeks since he'd
started putting subliminal images in the television
shows she watched, her attitude toward him had turned
around a hundred and eighty degrees.
The bossy attitude had been the first thing to go. She
had stopped treating him as a mere inconvenience in her
life. She no longer threatened to turn their father and
Tiffany against him if he didn't follow her dictates.
Her demeanor had not immediately turned into outright
friendliness, though; her seeming embarrassment about
having exposed her breasts to Alex seemed to be at least
part of the reason for that. But at least she had
stopped being such a bitch.
And then, in the last week, her attitude toward him had
shifted again. She had started to look at him
differently, her gaze lingering on him as they passed in
the hall in the morning. Alex had looked up from the
front page of the newspaper in the morning several times
to find his sister looking not at the fashion and
entertainment section, as usual, but at him. Directly at
him. She'd always glanced away in embarrassment, but
Alex knew what was going on. She found him attractive.
That was because the current phase of her programming
was conditioning her to find Alex... arousing. Every few
seconds or so during Katrina's TV shows, a statement
like "I really want to get fucked by my little brother,"
or "Being around my brother makes me horny," would flash
on the screen for a brief instant. Though Katrina's
conscious mind was unaware of it, the message filtered
down into her subconscious, where it affected her in
useful ways. Interspersed with the messages were
composite photographs Alex had created. The current
batch of photographs included several images that showed
Alex fucking Katrina. Of course, they were only doctored
photographs of other people, but the high-quality
graphics software Alex used made them look realistic
enough for this purpose.
Alex was quite enjoying Katrina's newfound attraction to
him. He didn't want to push things too far -- he didn't
think she'd agree to fuck him just yet -- but he was
toying with her casually. He'd look at her occasionally,
undressing her with his eyes, until she blushed and
turned away. And when they passed in the hall, he would
make sure his body brushed against hers, listening for
the soft gasp she always emitted at the contact. After
years of being toyed with, Alex was delighting in a
little bit of toying himself.
There was a soft knock at his door. "Come in," Alex
called, iconifying the image manipulation program on his
computer screen. He wouldn't want anyone seeing that.
The door opened as he turned around in the swivel chair,
revealing the gorgeous form of his sister. "Hi, Alex,"
she said softly. "Um... Am I disturbing you?"
Alex tried to appear casual. "No, I was just... working
on a programming project."
"Oh," she replied blankly. Alex had also been using the
subliminal conditioning to make her more polite and
civil toward him. That had worked quite well; she was no
longer the royal bitch she'd been to him for most of
their lives. But Katrina still didn't pretend to be
interested in Alex's life or his hobbies. Perhaps in
this case that was just as well.
"Well, I was wondering if you could... um... do me a
favor? I bought some clothes today at the mall on the
way home from school. I kind of want to try them out and
make sure I want to keep them, you know? I could still
exchange them if I decide I don't want them. So... um...
would you mind looking at them and giving me a... you
know, a man's perspective?"
Alex pretended to look surprised. "Yeah, sure, I could
do that," he replied.
"Oh, thank you, Alex. You're really a swell brother.
Okay, I'll come back in a minute." She pranced off down
the hall.
Alex leaned back in his chair, smiling. Making Katrina
find him attractive hadn't been the only objective of
the most recent round of subliminal images and messages.
He'd mixed in other pictures and sentences designed to
cause certain other interesting behaviors.
For example, the picture he'd been working on when
Katrina knocked was a composite image depicting Katrina
wearing a tight pink tube top that left her midriff and
shoulders alluringly exposed while clinging tightly to
the swell of her breasts. The black leather skirt she
was wearing was barely long enough to cover her ass, and
left her stocking-clad legs well-displayed. (Of course,
the body in question wasn't actually Katrina's, but
since Alex had grafted Katrina's face onto the woman's
body, it would fool her subconscious mind. He hoped.)
This image would go into a set that was already running
through the subliminal insertion program. The pictures
depicted Katrina in various skimpy, attention-getting
outfits, always leering lasciviously into the camera.
The accompanying text messages reinforced the messages
-- "Showing off my body gets me horny", "I like dressing
sexy", and the like.
Another set that Alex was running took the concept a
step further. These pictures all involved men looking at
Katrina's scantily-clad body as she gazed back happily.
The messages attached to these kept up the theme -- "I
get so hot when men look at my body," "I love it when
men tell me how sexy I am." As an experiment, Alex had
attached comic-strip-style balloons to some of the men,
with captions like "Damn, you're hot!" and "Wow! Nice
ass, babe!" But Alex was unsure that the "spoken" text
would be noticeable next to the image. Perhaps he should
increase the font size, he mused.
Just then, Katrina reappeared in his doorway, stepping
timidly into the room. Alex's eyes opened wide as he
took her in. Her orange-red hair had been combed out
luxuriously and fell in soft waves over the tan skin of
her bare shoulders. The ends of her hair fell over the
fire-engine-red shoulderless sweater that covered her
torso and arms. The sweater clung enticingly to her
breasts and tapered nicely down her stomach, stopping a
few inches short of the black cotton skirt that
completed the outfit. "Do you like it?" Katrina asked
softly as she turned around to show him her back. Alex
watched as the skirt slid tightly across her legs as she
turned. The outfit was completed by a pair of low-heeled
black pumps that shone in the light.
Alex stood up and made a show of appraising the outfit.
"Wow, this is nice, sis! I mean, it really makes you
look hot!"
Alex grinned behind his sister's back as he heard her
gasp softly. It looked as though the captions had
worked. He ran one hand down the back of her skirt,
feeling her tremble at his touch. He smirked and decided
to try another one. "The skirt really shows off that
nice ass of yours." He was rewarded by a slight shudder
as Katrina drew a deep breath. He removed his hand.
"Turn around and let me see the front again," he said.
Katrina responded immediately, turning to face him. He
made a show of staring at her cleavage. She was wearing
a gold-chain necklace that curved down over her chest
and dipped just underneath the top of the sweater,
deliciously highlighting the upper curves of her tits.
"Yeah, that sweater really shows off your jugs."
He watched in amusement as the effect of the comment hit
her. Her eyes closed as she drew in a sharp breath.
"Th-thank you, Alex," she moaned. Alex watched in
fascination as Katrina fought to keep her composure. He
wondered how far the effect could be pushed. Maybe
even... Hmmm.
"So, didn't you say you had some other outfits you'd
bought, sis?" Alex asked casually. "I'd like to see the
rest of them, too."
"Oh! Um... right," Katrina said, flustered. "Okay, um...
I'll go change. Back in a minute." She turned and
hurried from the room.
Alex sat back down, thinking about what to do. Katrina
had seemed to get quite excited at his words. He didn't
think the subliminal conditioning should have had quite
that strong an effect. None of the literature on the
subject that he'd read mentioned effects this strong.
Why was Katrina getting this excited from his words?
Maybe the answer lay in Katrina's heavy TV viewing.
Katrina spent virtually all of her free time at home
watching TV, primarily those sappy teen dramas he hated
so much. The shows that featured gorgeous young men and
women flirting and romancing each other all the time as
they dealt with all the usual high school trivialities.
As Alex had previously noticed, it seemed that Katrina
spent most of her time trying to emulate the beautiful,
vapor-brained girls on these shows. Alex had observed
that it was almost as though the TV was programming
Katrina; it had been that thought, in fact, that had led
him to the idea of using the TV to subliminally
condition her.
But maybe, he thought now, he'd been more correct than
he realized. Katrina's life, now that he thought about
it, was quite stereotypical. She was a beautiful, rich
suburban girl, a cheerleader who dated football players.
Her interests seemed to be confined to personal beauty,
socializing, and gossip. Alex realized with surprise
that he couldn't think of a single hobby his sister had.
Her father was an ex-football player and her stepmother
was a professional cheerleader, so there was certainly
no intellectual stimulation coming from her family.
(Alex knew that Katrina ignored him, of course.)
So maybe Katrina really was shaping her life to emulate
the teen bubbleheads she saw on TV. And if TV already
held such a powerful sway over her, maybe that would
explain the surprisingly strong effect that Alex's
subliminal images were having on her.
Alex's thoughts were interrupted by Katrina's return.
Again, she stepped timidly into the room, and again Alex
practically gaped at her. This outfit was quite a
contrast to the previous one. Where the sweater and
skirt she'd modeled before had had a sort of elegant
allure, this outfit radiated raw sexuality. A thin black
short-sleeved blouse clung to the top of her body. The
blouse lay open down the front, exposing a generous
amount of cleavage and revealing the white demi-bra
beneath. In fact, it looked as though the blouse wasn't
meant to be closed at all; Alex couldn't see any buttons
or snaps. If the two sides hadn't been tied together
just under her boobs, the whole thing surely would have
fallen open, revealing her breasts in their glorious
entirety.
Katrina's well-toned stomach was bare -- a sleek expanse
of copper skin that stretched down to a pair of white
denim shorts. Katrina did a pirouette, showing Alex that
the shorts were just barely long enough to cover the
curve of her ass. A pair of glossy white heels completed
the ensemble.
"Holy, shit, you look great, sis!" Alex exclaimed. It
had been a genuine exclamation of amazement, not a
calculated attempt to arouse her. But it had that effect
just the same -- Katrina inhaled a sharp breath of
excitement.
"I mean, that tight, sexy little tummy of yours really
looks good exposed like that," Alex commented.
"Mmmmmm... Th-thank you..."
Alex decided to pile it on. "Turn around so I can see
that luscious ass of yours in those hot shorts again!"
Katrina complied, leaning one arm against the wall to
support herself as she swooned. "Ohhhhhh....
unnnnnngh....."
"God, sis, you're going to have every guy in the school
staring at you if you walk down the hall like that!"
"Ohhhhh God," she moaned between pants, "Alex, I..."
"Let me see the front again," Alex commanded.
Katrina turned to face him again, a dazed look on her
face. "Th-thank you, Alex, but... but, please..."
"Man, I just can't get over those magnificent tits of
yours!" Alex exclaimed, cutting her off. "They just look
so mouth-watering under that blouse."
"Ahhhhhh!" Katrina gasped, throwing her head back,
lifting one hand to her face. "Alex... please...
stop..." she gasped between breaths.
Alex grinned, enjoying himself thoroughly. "Man, every
guy at school is going to be staring at those hooters of
yours!"
"Ahhhh... ohhhhh... no... please... don't..." She was
almost hyperventilating now, her hand sliding down her
chest as she leaned against the wall.
Alex took in the sight before him -- his gorgeous
sister, dressed to fuck and horny as hell. He wanted to
fuck her incredibly badly, to throw her on the ground
and dive into her with all the passion his frustrated
adolescent body felt. But he held back. It didn't quite
feel right yet. She was attracted to him now, but he was
concerned that the sentiment hadn't yet had time to
fully settle into her mind. He knew this was not the
moment to screw her. But there was something else he
could do that would be almost as fun.
"Oh, God, Katrina, if you weren't my own sister I'd
throw you on the ground and fuck your brains out right
here," he declared.
The effect on Katrina was electric. She screeched in
passion, her back arching as she fell against the wall
behind her. Her gasping protests melted into a
continuous series of orgasmic screams. Her hips bucked
against an imaginary intruder as her head twisted
violently back and forth, her hair tossing about her
like a brightly burning fire.
Alex watched his gorgeous sister in awe as her orgasm
subsided, her shrieks of passion fading into grunts and
then into soft pants. It hit him for the first time just
how much power he had over this bitch. He'd just brought
her to orgasm with nothing but a few carefully chosen
words. If he could do that, was there anything he
couldn't do?
Tiffany Young stretched her sleek frame langorously on
the couch as she watched TV. It was nearing the end of
Richfield High, and Debbie was trying to explain to her
boyfriend Dominic that even though she loved him very
much, she wasn't ready to sleep with him yet. Dominic
seemed to be having a hard time dealing with it.
Tiffany sighed as she stared at Dominic. God, he was a
hunk. He was barely a few years younger than her. Almost
like the brother she'd never had. She giggled as she
realized that she was feeling a bit warm inside looking
at him. She loved Greg very much, of course, but...
well, there was nothing wrong with a girl fantasizing a
bit about a younger guy, was there?
The discussion between the characters had turned heated.
Debbie seemed to be angry at Dominic, accusing him of
viewing her as a sex object. Well, hell, Tiffany
thought, what was the problem with that? That Debbie had
a sexy little body on her, and if she had any sense
she'd have been prancing around in the raciest clothes
she could find.
Tiffany knew that she got hot whenever men looked at her
body. Why, just last week she'd gone to the public pool
to tan. Sure, she could have used the family pool in the
backyard, but there would have been no one else around.
No men around. At the public pool, she'd reveled in the
looks she'd gotten from men -- the outright stares, the
sly glances, all of it. She'd been looked at that way by
males ever since she'd turned sixteen, but for some
reason it was only in the last few weeks that she'd
found the eyeballs on her so... delicious.
It seemed so unfortunate that this Debbie character was
unable to experience the same happiness from showing off
her body. Tiffany hoped that her stepdaughter wasn't
having that problem. Katrina was such a great girl, with
a fabulous body. Tiffany remembered how stodgy she had
been at Katrina's age, and she regretted not having
taken full advantage of her looks in high school. Maybe
she should help Katrina make full use of her body. A
picture jumped into Tiffany's mind of Katrina prancing
past an appreciative man. Tiffany smiled at the thought.
The show ended with the argument between the characters
still unresolved. Tiffany flicked it off with the
remote. She'd find out tomorrow if stuffy old Debbie
would realize what a fool she was being. That was the
advantage of watching the show in daytime syndication;
she didn't have to wait a whole week for the next show.
On the whole, it was much more entertaining than the
daytime soaps; although Tiffany still watched those, she
found the teen drama to be quite a bit juicier. She
always made space in her day to watch Richfield High.
Cookies! Tiffany bounced up from the couch and hurried
into the living room, her blond hair swishing in the air
behind her. She turned off the oven and popped it open.
Sure enough, the cookies were ready! She used an oven
mitt to pull the pans out, leaving them to cool on the
stovetop. She squealed in delight as she smelled them.
Greg and Katrina would love the cookies. And Alex, she
reminded herself belatedly. He was part of the family,
too.
She felt guilty about the mental slip. She really should
be nicer to Alex, she knew. In the last few weeks she'd
found herself thinking about that a lot, about how
little effort she'd made to connect with Alex, about how
the poor kid really needed a mother figure in his life.
She really would have to try to get along better with
him, to be more... accommodating of his wishes. Yes,
that would be nice. Just then the doorbell rang. Katrina
hurried to the door to answer it, wondering who it could
be. She certainly wasn't expecting anyone.
Standing outside the door was Eric, Katrina's boyfriend.
"Oh, hi, Ms. Young," he said nervously, his eyes
dropping down her body and then darting back up to
re-establish eye contact. "Um... I was wondering if
Katrina was here."
Tiffany's pulse skipped a beat as she felt his gaze on
her. She was rather casually dressed... a simple shirt
tied under her breasts and a pair of shorts. It excited
her that even in these clothes she could distract the
boy's eyes... and such a cute boy, too. "No, Eric,
Katrina's got a special cheerleading practice today. She
won't be home for a couple more hours." She looked at
his face... so handsome! Katrina was such a lucky girl.
"Oh, right!" Eric exclaimed. "Sorry to disturb you, Mrs.
Young," he said sheepishly.
Tiffany smiled at that. "Not at all, Eric. While you're
here would you like to come in and have some cookies?"
She tilted her head coquettishly. "They're fresh out of
the oven." She wasn't sure what she was doing, but...
well, she should be polite to her stepdaughter's
boyfriend, right?
"Um... sure, Mrs. Young, I'd love to." God, he was so
adorable!
Tiffany led Eric into the house, offering him a seat in
the kitchen. The seventeen-year-old boy was quite polite
and gentlemanly as she served him the cookies and some
lemonade, but when her back was turned she could
practically feel his eyes staring at her body.
Seventeen... that made him only six years younger than
her. He could practically be her brother. Tiffany's eyes
closed and she moaned at the thought.
She fought to keep her composure as she sat down with
him and sipped her lemonade, trying to make idle
chit-chat with him about the current football season.
But she couldn't help but come back to that thought: he
was old enough to be her brother. Her little brother.
The thought came fully-formed into her mind.
I really want to get fucked by my little brother.
Tiffany closed her eyes and shuddered as her mind
processed the idea. She had no idea where it had come
from, but God it was true! She felt a moistness between
her thighs. If only she had a little brother. A picture
flashed into her mind of Alex fucking Katrina. God, that
girl was so lucky. The thought of her stepson fucking
her stepdaughter sent a shiver of delight down her
spine.
"M-Mrs. Young?" Tiffany's eyes opened as Eric spoke.
"Are y-you all right?" Tiffany had forgotten he was
there while she'd been thinking about... about fucking
her little brother. Eric. Eric was old enough to be her
brother.
The boy yelped in surprise as Tiffany shot out of her
chair toward him. She silenced him with her lips,
plastering them against his in a lusty kiss. He was
motionless for several seconds, stunned, but before long
he began to respond. Tiffany brought her hands up to his
cheeks as she sucked hungrily on his lips. God, he was
so delicious. Little brother... fuck little brother...
Eric groaned as she began untying the shirt she was
wearing. The kiss broke as she stepped back and pulled
off the shirt, revealing her breasts to him. She looked
him in the eye, expectantly.
She'd been feeling insecure about her breasts for almost
a month now. For her entire life, she'd always been
happy with her breasts. They were a bit small, perhaps,
but they were firm and pert. But then, just recently,
she'd begun to be dissatisfied with them. She'd begun to
think about Katrina's breasts... big and round, the type
that men drooled over. And the more she thought about
Katrina's breasts -- and it had seemed recently that she
couldn't avoid thinking about them -- the more she'd
felt that her own were lacking.
Tiffany wanted her breasts to be noticed. She wanted men
to swoon over her breasts. She wanted men to talk behind
her back about what a nice rack she had, about how great
her jugs were. Maybe... "Eric, do you... do you like my
breasts?"
He seemed a bit surprised by the question. "Well, uh...
yeah, Mrs. Young, they're... really nice breasts."
Tiffany fought to hide her disappointment. Really nice
breasts. Not fabulous boobs, or incredible tits, or
great hooters. Really nice breasts. Was that all they
were? Maybe her boobs would never bring the sort of
attention she wanted.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Eric surged toward her,
resuming their kiss. Her disappointment with her chest
faded a bit as she felt his hands rubbing her ass. God,
she needed to get fucked. Fucked by this young stud. She
snaked one hand down to his crotch and squeezed his
cock.
They sank to the kitchen floor, fumbling with buttons
and zippers as they undressed each other. Tiffany
groaned in anticipation as his rock-hard member slid
free from his jeans. She stretched her legs around his
back, pulling him in toward her, gasping as she pictured
Alex fucking Katrina like this. Little brother fucking
big sister.
Minutes later, Tiffany screamed through a powerful
orgasm, her pussy squeezing the delicious cock of the
boy who could perhaps have been her own brother.
"Bend your head down a bit, honey." Katrina complied
with her stepmother's request, lowering her head to give
Tiffany access to the top of her pinned-up hair. Katrina
had been quite appreciative of her help in preparing for
the Homecoming Dance.
When Tiffany had first offered to help her pick out a
dress for the dance, Katrina had been reluctant to
accept. She'd been afraid that the older woman's
thoughts on what was appropriate wouldn't mesh well with
her own. After all, Katrina had a body she wanted to
show off. She wanted men staring at her, talking in
whispers about how fucking hot she was. And she didn't
think Tiffany would approve of what she wanted to wear.
But she'd seen no easy way to refuse Tiffany's offer, so
she'd bitten the bullet.
Much to Katrina's surprise and delight, though,
Tiffany's attitude had turned out to be anything but
conservative. Tiffany seemed almost as interested in
showing off Katrina's body as Katrina herself did.
Tiffany had appraised each candidate dress critically,
making comments like "Well, that doesn't show nearly
enough leg," and "This one practically hides your
breasts -- with boobs as pretty as those, that's a
no-no." As they'd moved through the selection process,
Tiffany had, if anything, pushed Katrina to try dresses
even more revealing than those she would have considered
on her own.
The shiny silver one-piece dress they'd settled on
bordered on the obscene. The low-cut, strapless top
showed plenty of cleavage. At the bottom, the skirt
ended well short of her knees, displaying a generous
amount of leg. The real feature, though, was the middle
of the dress--it was practically nonexistent. A large
cutout exposed her entire stomach from the round bottoms
of her tits down to below her navel. The cutout wrapped
around her right side, exposing most of her back as
well. The only reason the dress could be called
"one-piece" was the strip of fabric stretching from the
top to the skirt down her left side. Viewed from the
front, back, or right side, it looked as though Katrina
was wearing nothing more than a tight tube top and a
skimpy skirt. The connecting strip was the only
concession to decency.
Katrina was quite satisfied with the dress; it looked
just decent enough for the formal dance, but would
ensure that she got the lion's share of the male
attention. The thought of all those young men staring at
her tits and ass had her wet already. The thought of
them all wanting to fuck her... well, she shivered in
pleasure every time it came to her.
But that feeling was nothing compared to the lust she
felt for her own brother. She knew it was wrong. It was
so wrong for a sister to want to screw her brother. But
she couldn't help thinking about it... thinking about
his cock pistoning in and out of her. She tried to fight
it. She knew she wasn't ready for sex with anyone yet,
just like that girl Debbie on Richfield High. And even
if she were ready, wanting her own brother was wrong.
But she couldn't deny that she did want him. Her left
hand began rubbing the inside of her leg, creeping
slowly upward...
"Okay, I think we're all set!" Tiffany announced
perkily, startling Katrina out of her reverie. "Now how
does that look?" the blonde asked, standing next to
Katrina in front of the full-length mirror.
Katrina gasped. She looked wonderful. No... she looked
better than wonderful. She looked sexy. She looked
fucking hot. Every man at the dance would be lusting
after her.
"Alex!" Tiffany squealed. Katrina turned to look, and
there was her brother, standing in the doorway. "Doesn't
your sister look great?" the blonde gushed.
Katrina gasped as she felt his eyes on her. She wanted
him...
Alex fought to control himself, to stay calm as he eyed
his dolled-up sister. He felt his cock stirring to life
in his pants as he took in the sight. Her
elegantly-styled hair looked quite classy, giving her
the appearance of a rising young Hollywood starlet on
her way to the Oscars. But the dress gave an entirely
different impression. Hell, it was barely a dress. It
was practically a tube top and a short miniskirt. The
thin, stretchy fabric showed off Katrina's luscious tits
and pert ass in considerable detail. The dress and the
matching shiny silver pumps were downright trashy,
making his teenage sister look like the world's
best-dressed street hooker. The contrast between the
classiness of her hair and face and the sluttiness of
the clothes was incredible.
"Uh... yeah..." he responded belatedly to his
stepmother's query, "she looks... great." He licked his
lips nervously as he thought about what he really wanted
to say, words that would drive Katrina wild with lust.
But he couldn't do that in front of Tiffany.
"Oh, come on, Alex," Tiffany said teasingly, "look at
her! Don't you think every guy at the dance will be just
lusting after her?"
What the hell? Alex boggled at his stepmother's words.
"I mean, look at how this dress shows off her boobs and
her ass," the blonde continued, running her hand down
Katrina's flank in an almost salesgirl-like manner.
"Isn't she hot?" she asked, looking pointedly at Alex.
Alex was incredulous. Was Tiffany really saying this?
She'd spent so much time helping Katrina get ready for
the dance that Alex could certainly understand if she
was proud of Katrina's appearance. But her behavior
seemed to be almost that of a madam showing off one of
her prize call girls. As for Katrina, she was staring at
Alex, biting one lip, as though hoping for a response.
Well, then. "Yeah, she looks hot. Really hot," Alex
said. Both women reacted immediately -- his stepmother
with a big, happy smile, his sister with a swoon.
Katrina's response was predictable. Tiffany's however,
was puzzling; Alex had never known her to be so
interested in such talk.
"Oh, that's so sweet, Alex," Tiffany cooed. She looked
at Katrina, then back at Alex, smiling. "Well, I think
you're all set now, sweetie," she said, kissing Katrina
on the cheek. "I have to go run some errands. Don't mess
your hair up. 'Bye, Alex," she said, planting another
quick peck on his cheek as she breezed out the door.
Alex looked after her. That was weird, too. She was
never that nice to him.
But questions about Tiffany were pushed out of his mind
as he turned his eyes back his sister. He felt his cock
swelling in his jeans as he visually traced the luscious
curves of Katrina's body. She looked back at him,
trembling. She was horny, he knew. In an instant, he had
decided. He was going to fuck her. And he was going to
fuck her now.
Stepping forward, he brought one hand up to touch the
fabric of her dress. He could feel her trembling. "God,
you're so fucking hot, sis," he said, trying to keep his
voice as calm as possible.
Katrina drew in a ragged breath. "Alex... no..." she
moaned. "Please don't... oh!" she exclaimed as he
squeezed her tit through the thin fabric of the dress.
"I mean, you just have the tightest, sexiest little body
I've ever seen," he said, punctuating the sentence with
a kiss on her lips. He'd kissed her before, but only in
a brother-sister kind of way. This kiss he left on her
lips longer. God, he hoped he was doing it right. He
fought to control his nerves.
Katrina was unresponsive to his lips on hers, but gasped
softly as he withdrew. Her eyes were closed. Alex
squeezed her tits with both hands, enjoying the effect
this had on her. "No... Alex..." she moaned in feeble
protest.
"Just look at these gorgeous jugs of yours, Katrina,"
Alex said, squeezing her left breast again for emphasis.
Katrina gasped again. Alex kissed her again, and she
responded this time, sucking hungrily on his upper lip.
"Please, Alex, n-not now..." she groaned as they broke
the kiss, but her reaction to Alex's touch spoke much
louder than her words. Alex allowed himself a grin of
triumph as he reflected on how well his programming had
worked. Riding a surge of confidence, Alex gripped the
top of the dress and pulled it downward, exposing her
succulent tits. Katrina's nipples stood erect. Alex
brought his mouth forward to meet one of them.
Katrina gasped as she felt Alex's lips fasten around her
nipple. She fell backward against the wall, Alex
following her as he licked and sucked at her breasts.
Her boobs. Her beautiful jugs. Her fabulous tits. Oh,
God! "Please Alex, I... oh!" Her desperate plea was cut
short as his hand slipped under the hem of her dress and
rubbed her inner thigh. She felt the wetness deep inside
her as her body responded to the intrusion.
"Oh, God, sis, you're just so fucking hot!" Alex
exclaimed, his hand sliding up towards her steaming
pussy. She felt one finger slip between the wet lips.
Katrina could barely think through the delirious
pleasure that fogged her brain. "No... this is wrong...
please..." But it didn't feel wrong. She wanted the
finger inside her. She wanted a cock inside her. Alex's
cock. Her hips bucked slightly, trying to pull his
finger inside. "Oh, fuck..." she gasped. "Fuck...
please..."
Alex lifted his mouth from her tit, a sneer on his face.
"Are you trying to say something, Katrina?" The finger
continued to tease her, wiggling inside her. Then
another finger brushed...
"Oh! Oh, God, fuck!" she mewled as he stroked her
clitoris.
"I'm sorry, Katrina, but I can't understand you," Alex
taunted.
She had to have it. It was wrong, it was humiliating,
but she had to have it. "F-f-fuck me... please..." she
moaned.
She saw the grin spread across his face. "I can't
believe a gorgeous piece of ass like you is really
begging me to fuck her," he teased, sliding his finger
back between her pussy lips.
"F-fuck me, Alex! I need it!"
That seemed to satisfy him. His hand withdrew. "All
right, get on the floor, bitch," he ordered.
Katrina slid down the wall, falling to the floor. Alex
roughly rolled her onto her back. Gripping her ankles,
still wrapped in the straps of the pumps, he pulled her
legs apart. She was willing to be manhandled, to be used
like a piece of meat. Just as long as she got fucked.
She watched in fascination and a little fear as Alex
unzipped his pants and pushed them downward, allowing
his erect cock to spring free. He seemed to be unable to
contain his eagerness, hurrying forward to place the
swollen purple head of his prick at the lips of her
pussy. With one powerful thrust, he was inside her.
Katrina shrieked in pleasure and pain as his member
filled her up. Her hymen burst instantly and she felt
like she was going to split in two. But with the pain
came release, sweet release. Her little brother was
fucking her. She mewled softly as he withdrew, and then
shrieked again as he thrust back inside her.
Alex grunted in triumph as he thrust again into his
gorgeous sister. He'd dreamed about this moment for
years, but he'd never imagined it would feel this good.
The feel of her tight pussy squeezing his prick was like
nothing he'd ever felt. But as incredible as the
physical sensations were, the sweetest part of it all
was watching his sister lying underneath him, panting
like a bitch in heat, yelping every time he thrust into
her. The expensive, fancy dress was bunched up around
her waist, her tits and pussy fully exposed. Finally,
the arrogant bitch was getting what she deserved. Alex
couldn't resist the opportunity to gloat. "You must be
quite a horny little whore, Katrina, if my tiny little
prick is doing this to you." He punctuated the insult
with a sharp thrust.
"Oh!" she screamed at his re-entry. "N-no, I... unh!" as
he thrust again. She was struggling to speak. "You...
you're... ah!... huge! Not... oh, God!... small..."
"What?" Alex stopped his movement in surprise, his cock
almost completely outside his sister's snatch. "What did
you say?"
"No! Don't stop!" Katrina whined, thrusting her hips
forward.
"Tell me what you said," Alex ordered sternly. "About my
cock."
Katrina fell back, gasping. "You're not... small. You're
h-huge. L-Like a horse, okay? Please, Alex! I need it!"
She wrapped her legs around his ass, trying to pull him
inside her.
Alex held himself outside her. "So then why did you tell
me I was so small?"
Katrina hesitated. But apparently she couldn't resist
the lure of Alex's prick. "I was j-just trying to m-make
fun of you," she said, her cheeks red with obvious
embarrassment.
Alex's body shook with rage as he considered this. He'd
make her pay. "Well, feel it now, bitch!" he cried as he
brutally slammed his massive cock inside her.
He was rewarded with a shrill scream from his sister.
Grinning, he withdrew and pounded into her again,
eliciting the same reaction. His cock throbbed with
power as he continued to fuck the sexy cheerleader.
Katrina's legs encircled him, helping to pull him deep
inside her. Cheap little slut, he thought.
"Oh... yes! Yes! Fuck, yes!" she screamed, growing more
and more excited with each thrust. Her hips were bucking
roughly back at Alex as he slammed his throbbing cock
into her. Within moments he felt Katrina's twat
squeezing tightly around his prick, contracting like a
velvet vise. He grinned in savage pleasure. The bitch
was coming on his cock! Her back arched as she screamed
in pleasure, pressing those delicious tits against
Alex's chest.
The feeling drove Alex over the edge. He felt his cock
pulse rhythmically as Katrina's pussy squeezed him
tightly. With an animal-like cry of triumph, he slammed
his cock deep inside one final time, his prick erupting
in a torrent of jizz. His mind fogged with pleasure as
his cock spewed come into his gorgeous sister.
Katrina lay gasping on the floor as she felt her
brother's semen spurting inside her. Her little
brother's semen. Even as her own orgasm subsided, she
still felt a thrill of pleasure at the thought. She had
just fucked her sexy little brother. And she had come to
the most powerful orgasm she'd ever felt.
Part of her felt shame at the thought. She knew it was
wrong. But what the hell was she to do with such a cute,
fuckable little brother? She'd spent the past week
getting wet practically every time she looked at him.
And she knew that he'd certainly been feeling the same
way. After all, she was such a hot piece of ass. What
man... what boy wouldn't want to fuck her?
She was dimly aware that she'd messed up her hair, and
that she'd have to redo it before Eric showed up for the
dance. And she'd have to fix her makeup. And straighten
out the dress. And...
But it was tiring to think about the dance. She knew
she'd be the focus of all the male attention, with cocks
stirring every time she walked by. But there was only
one cock she wanted. The one she had right now. Her
little brother's gorgeous, huge (monstrously huge!)
cock.
Maybe, she mused, if she got home early he'd fuck her
again.
Chapter Three
"Oh, yeah, that's it," Alex gasped. "What a fine
cock-sucker you are, sis!"
Katrina Young exulted at her brother's praise as she
continued to suck on his rock-hard cock. It felt so good
to be appreciated. She tossed her red hair as she began
to pump her head up and down the thick shaft. Her left
hand slid idly up to cup her tit, giving it a squeeze.
It occurred to Katrina that merely a week ago she would
have been revolted at the idea of what she was doing
now.
She wouldn't have been bothered by the fact that it was
Alex, of course. For the last month she'd found her
brother irresistibly attractive. Sexy. She lusted for
his cock for what seemed like an eternity until that
magical night when he'd first made love to her.
No. Not "made love". That would never do. He hadn't made
love to her. He'd taken her. He'd used her like the hot,
sexy babe she knew she was. He'd slammed his meat into
her. She'd been all dressed up for the Homecoming Dance,
wearing that slinky black dress that barely covered
anything. Her stepmother Tiffany had just finished
fixing up her hair when Alex had shown up. And as soon
as Tiffany left, Alex had taken her and fucked her. He'd
made her beg for his cock and then fucked her brains
out.
Katrina shuddered with pleasure as she remembered the
evening. After she'd orgasmed powerfully on Alex's cock,
feeling his cream gushing into her, she'd worked
furiously to restore her appearance. Alex had watched
the whole process, smirking. She'd barely been able to
walk, but she'd managed to make it through the dance
somehow. She'd feigned illness after a couple hours and
persuaded Eric, her boyfriend, to drive her home. She'd
barely been home five minutes when Alex had thrown her
to the ground and fucked her again.
Since then, Alex had fucked her daily, driving Katrina
to several orgasms each time. But even after this had
started, Katrina hadn't found the idea of using her
mouth on her brother's tool appealing. If he'd asked her
to, she would have done it. Hell, she'd do anything he
asked as long as he kept fucking her. But she wouldn't
have enjoyed it.
But then, just about a week ago, she'd been watching
Richfield High, one of her favorite TV shows, and it had
occurred to her that oral sex could be interesting.
Arousing, even. The idea had stuck with her.
Increasingly, she'd pictured herself sucking Alex off,
and gradually, she'd come to realize that she wanted --
no, needed -- to suck him off.
It had all built to this afternoon, when she'd gotten
home from school and come straight to Alex's room. He'd
looked at her as though he knew exactly what she needed.
Without standing up, he'd unzipped his pants and pulled
out his half-erect cock. "Suck it, you gorgeous slut"
he'd commanded. And she had, eagerly.
She felt Alex's hands twining through her hair, guiding
her head gently up and down his thick tool. "Use your
tongue a bit more, babe..." he groaned. Katrina
complied, sliding her tongue back and forth along the
underside of her brother's thick, meaty shaft,
struggling not to gag. She clenched her legs together,
feeling the wetness in her pussy. The thought of
servicing her brother like this got her so fucking hot.
Alex groaned as Katrina's head slid still lower on his
prick. The feeling was incredible! He'd thought he could
never know any finer sensation than that of sliding his
cock into his sister's tight little pussy. This, though,
was at least as sweet. He gazed down at Katrina's shiny
red lips as they slid up and down his shaft. And her
tongue... it was just incredible.
It still amazed him what he'd done to her. A mere month
ago, Katrina had been a stuck-up, self-centered bitch,
concerned only with her own appearance and her social
status at school. Her priorities in life had been
cheerleading, gossip, and television, in that order.
She'd treated Alex, her little brother, like shit.
And then Alex had figured it out. Through a series of
subliminal messages inserted into Katrina's favorite TV
shows, he'd worked some slow changes in his sister's
thoughts. First, it had been her boobs. Alex had always
thought that Katrina had the most gorgeous tits in the
world. The subliminal images had been tailored to give
Katrina the same... interest... in her mammaries that
Alex had. The text messages accompanying them had
reinforced the images, saying things like "I like it
when men look at my tits," and "I'm proud of my
beautiful boobs, and I wish I could show them off."
Slowly but surely, Katrina had grown more and more
obsessed with showing off her large, pert jugs,
displaying them to Alex as often as she could. Even now,
as she sucked his cock, one hand was massaging her
bountiful chest.
From that point on, it had been a matter of gradually
inducing Katrina to do what he wanted her to do, think
what he wanted her to think, and feel what he wanted her
to feel. It was just a simple matter of programming.
Alex had used another set of images and messages to
induce Katrina to spread her legs for him, with messages
like "I really want to get fucked by my little brother,"
and "I need to feel my little brother's cock in my
pussy." Her lust for him had grown and grown, until the
evening of her Homecoming dance, when Alex had finally
taken her, shoving his lust-swollen prick deep into his
gorgeous, sexy sister.
Since then, he'd been slowly programming her to show an
interest in cock-sucking. It had been a simple matter to
insert subliminal messages like "I need to suck my
little brother's cock," and "I want to wrap my lips
around my little brother's thick shaft," into the set of
images his computer used for subliminal insertion. The
rest was, by now, automatic. Alex's computer intercepted
the incoming signal from the satellite dish. Anytime
that one of Katrina's favorite programs was on --
Richfield High, Hogan's Bluff, and a few other sappy
teenage dramas -- the computer inserted a subliminal
image once every ten seconds or so. The viewer, Katrina,
wouldn't notice the images consciously, but the brief
flicker of the image would register on her subconscious.
And the system continued to work beautifully, Alex
thought, watching as Katrina continued to suck his
blood-engorged prick. His sister was now eagerly jerking
her head up and down on his shaft. Alex stroked her
flaming red hair as he pondered what to do with his
gorgeous pet next. He could, of course, just keep
throwing the same images at her, and enjoy having an
eager little sex-kitten available for his constant use.
It would be a long time before he got bored of fucking
Katrina. But still, he felt like there was more he
wanted to do with her than just screw her. He thought of
the massive collection of pornographic pictures he had
on his hard drive. Maybe...
His thoughts were interrupted as he realized he was
going to come soon. It occurred to him that he hadn't
programmed her to want to swallow his come yet. She'd
take it if he came in her mouth, he knew, but she
wouldn't enjoy it. He didn't want to push her beyond the
limits of her programming yet. Besides, that sweet
little pussy of hers would be nice and juicy at this
point.
Alex gently pulled his sister's head up off his cock.
She looked up at him quizzically. She seemed almost hurt
that he'd stopped her blowjob. He grinned. "On your
back, bitch," he commanded. Her trepidation turned into
glee as she hurried to comply. Alex climbed atop his
panting sister, positioning the swollen purple head of
his prick between the glistening wet folds of her labia.
Sure enough, the slut was ready.
Alex howled in pleasure as he thrust into his sister.
Katrina shrieked with delight as her brother's massive
meat slammed into her tight pussy. Her hands continued
to rub and squeeze her tits as she felt him begin to
fuck her, pumping his cock in and out of her trembling
snatch. Her big, beautiful boobs. Her gorgeous jugs. She
just loved her tits!
She came almost immediately, her pussy clenching tightly
around her little brother's manhood, her legs encircling
his ass, pulling him deeply inside her as she screamed
through her orgasm. She felt him coming as well, spurt
after spurt of hot spunk shooting into her stomach.
Katrina's orgasm surged higher as she felt the warm
liquid penetrating her insides, her fingers continuing
to fondle her tits. She'd sucked her brother off so hard
that he'd come practically the instant he'd entered her.
God, she felt so fucking hot!
Even in the light windbreaker featuring the Tigers' team
colors, Tiffany Young was shivering as she jogged up the
steps of the high school, pompoms in hand. "Lexie!" she
called to the similarly-clad woman at the top of the
stairs.
"Oh, Tiff, there you are!" Alexis Donaldson exclaimed,
"It's so good to see you again." Tiffany returned the
proffered embrace. "We were worried you wouldn't make
it! You've been sick for so long!"
"Well, I'm fine now, Lexie," Tiffany responded, breaking
the embrace and stepping back from her fellow
cheerleader. "I just had some medical complications for
a few weeks." Tiffany grimaced inwardly. Medical
complications, indeed. "But I'll be back at practice on
Thursday."
"Well, let's get inside. Everyone else is waiting in the
gym," Alexis said, opening the door and hurrying Tiffany
inside. The two cheerleaders were alone in the school's
small lobby; virtually all the students and teachers
would be at the say-no-to-drugs assembly by now. Well,
she'd have to do this sooner or later. Tiffany unzipped
her jacket and shrugged it off, revealing her
cheerleading uniform underneath.
"Come on Tiff, this way," Alexis called, looking back at
her. The leggy brunette did a double-take when she saw
Tiffany. "Oh my God, Tiff, you had your boobs done!"
Alexis gaped, mouth open, at Tiffany's chest.
"Y-yeah. Well, I just decided I was tired of being so
flat-chested, you know?" Tiffany explained nervously.
Alexis was walking back slowly, head tilting this way
and that as she stared at Tiffany's chest. "Jesus, Tiff,
they're... don't you think they're a bit much?"
"No!" Tiffany snapped. "I think they're just fine!"
"Sorry," Alexis said, raising her hands in placation.
"It's just that you never seemed unhappy with your
breasts before. And then you show up with those..."
"Well... well..." Tiffany stammered. That much was true.
It had only been a month ago, while she'd been watching
one of those teen dramas she liked to watch during the
day, that she'd realized she wanted bigger tits. She
wanted men to stare at her jugs, ogle her knockers. She
got a shiver as she thought about men looking at her
tits. And maybe they were a bit bigger than most
women's. She looked down at her tits, straining against
the fabric of the too-small top of the cheerleading
uniform.
She'd intended to get something smaller, but once she'd
gotten into the doctor's office and started looking at
photographs, she'd gotten so excited that she'd gone
several sizes larger than she'd originally intended. But
hey, why pay a lot of money just to look like everyone
else, if you could look a lot better?
Then she realized Alexis was still waiting for her to
answer. "Well, yeah, I guess I decided pretty recently.
And I happen to like them just fine. So does Greg." That
was true. Greg loved her new breasts. Her tits. Her
bazookas. She shivered with delight again.
Alexis laughed at that. "Well, as long as it's for a
good cause," she said, grinning. "Now, let's get going,"
she said, trotting off down the hall. Tiffany hurried
after her.
They soon met up with the rest of the squad, waiting
just outside the double doors of the school gym, inside
which the entire student body was assembled for a
"Say-No-To-Drugs" program. They spent several minutes
getting organized, during which time Tiffany's
recently-augmented cleavage attracted a few sidelong
glances. Before anyone had a chance to ask her about
them, the school principal introduced them and they
burst through the gym doors and into one of their
standard dance routines. Because the routine was one of
the squad's staples, Tiffany had no problem keeping up,
despite having missed two weeks of practice.
The squad finished the routine with a sharp cheer of
"Drugs? No!" and drew a round of applause from the
students; especially, it seemed, the male ones. The
principal came back to the microphone, thanking the
cheerleaders and introducing the motivational speaker
that was to present the bulk of the assembly's message.
Tiffany filed off the floor with the rest of the
cheerleaders to the seats that had been reserved for
them in the front row of the mass of students. Tiffany
wound up sitting on one end of the row of cheerleaders,
right next to a thin, shy-looking boy. "Hi," she said,
smiling at him.
His gaze seemed locked on her chest. Tiffany thrilled
inwardly. Men had never stared at her tits before. The
boy seemed to shake himself loose from the hypnotic
spell of her cleavage. "H-hi," he stuttered, looking
away nervously.
Tiffany smiled, turning away to watch the assembly. The
speaker quickly grew boring, so she began to scan the
crowd, looking for Katrina. After a few minutes, she
found her step-daughter in the second row from the top
of the student audience. The redhead was wearing a tight
white crop-top that showed off her generous boobs
fetchingly. Tiffany was pleased that Katrina had such a
sexy figure. She was also pleased that the girl wasn't
shy about showing it off, either. There was no greater
compliment that could be paid to a woman than having men
talk about how hot she was, and Tiffany was sure that
plenty of the boys in school lusted after Katrina.
Including, maybe, her brother. For some reason, Tiffany
had spent a lot of time recently thinking about Katrina
and Alex having sex. Images of her stepchildren fucking
each other seemed to jump unbidden into her mind.
Tiffany crossed her legs, trying to subdue the tingling
that was beginning in her crotch. Tiffany groaned softly
as she thought about fucking her little brother. She
didn't have one, but that seemed immaterial. She wanted
desperately to feel her brother's cock slide into her
pussy, feel his massive cock slide into her mouth... Oh,
God!
Her head turned to look at the boy next to her. He
looked to be perhaps sixteen. She was only twenty-three.
He could easily have been her brother. Her brother...
Tiffany reached one hand out to cup his knee. The boy
jerked at her touch, startled. "Excuse me," she said in
what she hoped was a soothing voice. Her nerves were raw
with sexual energy. "Could you show me to the ladies'
room?"
"Uh... s-sure," he stammered. Tiffany stood up. Seizing
on an impulse, she took his hand. The boy was trembling.
He stood up nervously, leading her to the gym doors.
Tiffany knew the entire gym was staring at them, but she
didn't care. She was just going to the bathroom, after
all. She smiled. The boy lead her out the doors and down
the hall to the restroom door. "Here you go, ma'am," her
mumbled nervously, and made as if to leave.
"Wait," Tiffany insisted, gripping his hand tightly.
"Will you come in with me? To make sure it's safe?
Please?" She squeezed his hand once, for emphasis.
The boy's eyes widened as he slowly realized what was
happening. He was silent for a moment, before speaking
in a small voice. "O-okay..."
"Thanks," she cooed, leading him by the hand into the
restroom. Tiffany glanced around, making sure the small
restroom was empty. When she was reasonably sure it was,
she pushed the boy against the wall, planting her lips
firmly on his.
Tiffany was hardly aware of what she was doing. But she
knew she loved it. Her tongue shot into the boy's mouth,
probing, exploring. He was unresponsive, still
trembling. Tiffany brought one hand to his crotch,
feeling the bulge pushing against his jeans. He was
responsive there.
The kid gasped as she broke the kiss. The kid... little
brother. Tiffany sank slowly to her knees, unzipping the
boy's pants as she did. A quick pull allowed his rigid
cock to spring free. Tiffany gasped at the sight. Her
little brother's cock. She brought one hand up to grip
it, rubbing it gently, caressing it with her fingers.
The boy stood stunned, looking down at Tiffany as the
cheerleader stroked his cock. Tiffany looked up, a smile
on her face. Slowly, she parted her lips and brought her
mouth down on the blood-engorged prick.
The sensation that ran through her body was electric.
She sealed her lips around the cock, her eyes closing as
pleasure washed over her. Cock... sucking cock...
sucking little brother's cock... Tiffany shuddered. Her
pussy was damp.
Slowly, she began to pump her head up and down. The boy
began to groan as she did so. Tiffany used her free hand
to brace herself against the wall as she dove deeper on
the boy's cock. She'd gone down on Greg a couple of
times at his request, but she'd never really enjoyed it.
Now, for some reason, she found the idea of sucking cock
incredibly arousing. Sucking... little brother's cock.
It wasn't long before an orgasm washed over her. She
spread her legs and brought one hand to her pussy,
furiously rubbing her erect clit, one finger sliding
shallowly into her snatch. She was dimly aware that the
cock in her mouth was beginning to pulse.
Moments later, the boy gave a sharp cry as his cock
erupted in her mouth. Tiffany fought to control herself.
The warm liquid flowed into her mouth, coating her
tongue in a sticky saltiness. As her orgasm subsided, a
few drops escaped her mouth, spattering onto the tops of
her upthrust tits.
Tiffany collapsed on the floor, the short cheerleading
skirt splaying around her on the floor. She was dimly
aware of the boy zipping up his pants and hurrying out
of the restroom. Slowly collecting herself, she pulled
her spent body up off the floor, stumbling over to the
mirror. The face that looked back at her held a dazed
look, with a rivulet of jism snaking from one corner of
her mouth down her neck to the twin orbs of her
augmented boobs. She grinned in giddy delight at the
sight.
She returned to the gym ten minutes later, the semen
wiped from her face and cleavage and her hair freshened
up a bit. The boy was no longer sitting in the seat next
to hers. Tiffany looked through the crowd as she sat
down, curious. She found him after a few seconds of
searching, sitting with some other boys further up. He
was gesturing furiously as he spoke to his friends.
Tiffany couldn't hear the words, but she had a pretty
good guess as to what the topic of conversation was. Her
suspicion was confirmed when the boy pointed at her,
drawing his friends' gazes to her.
Tiffany blushed and turned her head away in
embarrassment. Embarrassment, however, gave way to
excitement as she thought about what they were probably
saying. Hot babe. Horny little sexpot. Cocksucking
cheerleader tramp. A soft moan escaped her lips.
"Tiff?" Alexis asked.
Tiffany sat bolt upright. "I'm fine," she snapped,
trying to hide her arousal. She squeezed her legs
tightly together, as though that would contain the
wetness between them.
"That's good, sis. Just smile for the camera." Katrina
complied with her brother's instructions, flashing her
most winning smile as the camera strobed several times.
"Chest further out... show off those gorgeous tits."
Katrina moaned softly at the words, thrusting her chest
forward as Alex snapped several more pictures. "Lean on
the bedrail... there we go." Katrina rested one hand on
the wrought-iron frame at the foot of her parents' bed.
Both of them were out for the evening; Greg had his
regular poker night with his old football buddies, and
Tiffany had left shortly afterward, telling them that
she had just gotten word that she had to go to a
surprise birthday party for a friend. So Katrina and
Alex had the evening alone.
Katrina thought excitedly about what was going on. Here
she was, striking sexy poses and smiling at the camera
while her brother shot photos of her. Just like a model.
Just like a hot, sexy model that men would lust after.
She pouted fetchingly at the camera, imagining men
looking at her pictures, men wishing they could fuck
her.
The idea had come to her while she'd been watching TV.
(It was strange, she reflected, how many new ideas had
come to her recently while watching TV. And her teachers
always prattling on about how TV rots the mind. Oh,
please!) She'd been watching Hogan's Brook, one of her
favorite shows, and it had occurred to her that the
girls on the show were on TV a lot. They were always
prancing around in sexy clothes on the show, probably
getting all the men who watched the show really horny.
The realization had come with a stab of jealousy. These
girls appeared on millions of TVs across America every
week. Probably thousands of men and boys lusted after
them. Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of
thousands of men dreaming about fucking them.
And what did she, Katrina, have? How many guys wanted to
fuck her? Maybe a few hundred at her school. It was
hardly fair. Here she was, a hot babe with a fabulous
set of knockers, and barely anyone could see it. Those
bitches on TV weren't hotter than she was; they just had
more exposure. Katrina had known with a sudden certainty
that if she were appearing on TV every week, men all
over the country would be jerking themselves silly
dreaming of her body. That was what she wanted.
Hundreds, thousands of men lusting after her.
It had been a week, though, before she'd done anything
about it. A week in which her thirst to be an object of
lust for throngs of men had grown and grown. A week in
which, every time she stripped naked to get fucked by
Alex, she'd fantasized about cameras shooting at her,
flashing as she posed, showing off her sexy young body.
A week in which she'd struggled to build up her courage.
She'd known that Alex would be the one to help her out.
She remembered vaguely that he'd had a brief interest in
photography a few years ago. And with his computer
skills, she knew that he could get pictures of her
distributed on the Internet, where thousands of men
would see them. She knew Alex could help her.
But there were risks, weren't there? What would happen
if someone at school found the pictures? Her reputation
would be ruined. Everyone would talk about her behind
her back. They'd call her a cheap slut. A whore. She
wasn't prepared for that. Teasing the guys at school
with her clothes and her body was one thing. Getting
fucked by her brother's massive cock every day was
something else. But neither of these things was the same
as being known as a slut. She loved having all the guys
wanting to fuck her, but she absolutely did not want
them to think they'd actually get a chance. Her
reputation was critically important, and she wasn't
willing to risk it.
But her desire to be looked at, to be lusted after, had
grown steadily over the past week. She'd finally decided
to ask Alex to take some pictures of her. She wouldn't
have them distributed. She just wanted to see what she
looked like on film, and fantasize about having lots of
men look at the pictures. Just fantasizing.
She'd finally asked Alex about it just after he'd fucked
her one evening. She hadn't mentioned her fantasy about
being lusted after by hordes of men across the country.
In fact, she hadn't even mentioned undressing. She'd
just asked him to take some pictures of her modeling.
"You know, to see if maybe I want to be a model." That
was all she needed, really. Her imagination could do the
rest.
He'd readily agreed, telling her what she would need to
do, what clothes she should use, and what sort of makeup
she should wear for the photoshoot. Almost as though
he'd known she was going to ask. No, she chided herself.
That wasn't possible. She was being silly.
And here they were, Katrina striking poses as Alex
instructed. She was wearing a low-cut black tube top
that showed off her generous tits and a tight, pink
miniskirt that clung to her legs. The outfit was
completed by a pair of black heels. At Alex's request,
she had tied her long red hair up in a ponytail. "It
completes the look," he'd explained at the beginning of
the shoot. "A sexy little teenybopper." That sentence
had brought on the now-familiar wetness in her snatch. A
wetness that was still with her.
"Okay, now bend over, hands on the railing," Alex
instructed. Katrina complied, bending at the waist and
leaning her weight on the bedframe. "Stick your ass up
higher," Alex ordered as he continued to snap pictures.
He circled around behind her. "Reach around back with
one hand and pull the skirt up a little."
Katrina did so, wondering if this was really necessary.
After all, the skirt was pretty short anyway, and left
little to the imagination. She pulled the skirt up a
bit, and heard Alex snap several pictures. "Higher...
higher... that's it," he commented. Katrina obeyed,
surprised that he wanted it that way. Any higher, and
she'd be showing her damp pussy to the camera. She
groaned at the thought of her pussy on film.
She heard Alex stepping back, and the clicking of the
camera being unloaded and reloaded with fresh film.
"Okay, sis, for this next roll, how about we see some of
your tits? Just pull up the top a bit, all right?"
Katrina froze. She hadn't asked Alex to shoot her
topless. She hadn't told him she wanted to be shot
topless. But... she did want to. And after all, nobody
would see these pictures, so what did it matter?
Katrina turned back to face Alex, nervously pulling up
the tube top and allowing her breasts to spring free.
"Smile," he instructed as the camera began to flash.
Katrina complied, smiling at the camera. Her confidence
returned. This felt right. She could easily picture
herself in the pages of a men's magazine. She brought
her hands up to cup her tits, proffering them to the
camera as she leered, tongue brushing her upper lip.
That felt very right.
Alex grinned as his sister squeezed her tits for his
camera. Sure enough, this was what she wanted. He could
read the lust in her face now. He congratulated himself
once again on a masterful job of programming her. "Okay,
sis, I want you to cup the left one... that's it... now
pout for the camera. Make it sexy, you gorgeous babe,"
he ordered. The words had the desired effect, as Katrina
swooned with delight.
The most recent batch of subliminal messages had been
things like "I want lots of men to lust after my body,"
and "I want thousands of men to dream about fucking me."
The images that supplemented these were drawn from his
online library without alterations: Porn actresses
pouting for the camera, models from men's magazines
spreading their legs or cupping their tits as the leered
at the camera. He'd also included some pictures of
strippers performing, thrusting their bare tits
provocatively at crowds of leering men. It was all
designed to induce Katrina to want to be photographed,
and have her photographs viewed by horny men. She hadn't
admitted it all to him yet, but he knew that was what
she wanted. After all, he'd programmed her.
Alex continued to snap pictures. Katrina followed his
instructions eagerly now, fondling her tits and
spreading her legs for his hungry camera. Getting her to
bare her boobs seemed to have snapped her reluctance
completely. She was really getting into it now. She
didn't have the skills of a professional model -- she
didn't yet understand the best ways to pose, or how best
to show off her body. But she was enthusiastic.
And she followed his instructions well, gradually
removing the top and the skirt. Slowly he coaxed her
through it, moving her from one pose to another -- this
one showing off her full tits with their hard nipples,
that one displaying her glistening wet snatch. Alex
noted with approval that Katrina had shaved her pussy
before the shoot. Every image he'd used in programming
her this week had featured a woman with a shaved pussy.
Katrina had only a small triangular patch of fur
remaining on her lower stomach. The lips of her slit
were smooth and shiny.
Alex used up roll after roll of film on his gorgeous
sister's nubile body. After half an hour of shooting,
Alex decided he had enough. He'd used up a dozen rolls
of film, and Katrina was now panting from the exertion
and excitement, a light sheen of sweat covering her
smooth skin. He'd finished up with some shots of her
from behind, standing on legs spread wide, facing the
bed, bending forward to lean both hands on the bed. The
pose accentuated the curves of her luscious ass while
also exposing the moist folds of her snatch. Alex's cock
felt ready to burst in his jeans. There was just one
more thing to be done.
Setting the camera gently on the dresser, Alex stepped
toward the horny redhead...
Katrina stood, panting, balancing herself on the heels
she still wore. She felt her pussy tingling as she
thought about how sexy she must look. How fucking hot.
That was what she was. A hot babe. She couldn't wait to
see the pictures Alex had taken, to see how sexy she
looked.
The camera fell silent. Katrina stood, panting, waiting
for Alex to change film rolls and resume shooting. She
was exhausted from the session, but still eager for
more. Maybe now she'd get to show off her tits some
more. Her luscious tits.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her rear.
Alex was stroking her ass gently, his hand sliding
across her damp skin. Katrina's pulse quickened as she
realized Alex was going to fuck her. Suddenly, she
realized how much she needed a good fucking. Her legs
trembled as she thought of Alex's thick cock sliding
into her pussy.
"You really enjoyed that, didn't you, sis?" he asked
from behind her, his hand sliding down to her snatch.
"Yeah... yeah, I... Oh!... I l-liked it," she moaned,
gasping as Alex's hand brushed her erect clit. Dammit,
why didn't he just fuck her? Katrina's hips swiveled as
she ground her pussy against her brother's hand, trying
desperately to bring herself to orgasm.
"Well, I was just thinking that we could also make some
money out of this," he mused.
Katrina's hips stopped moving. What did he mean?
"M-money?" she asked stupidly.
"Sure," Alex responded, still stroking her. His other
hand had reached around to her chest, and was now
fondling one erect nipple. "I know of a few web sites
that would pay good money for these pictures. There's a
lot of horny men who'll gladly pay to look at pictures
of you," he explained.
Katrina gasped, her body shaking with excitement. Men
staring at her. Horny men dreaming of fucking her. She
shivered at the thought. But she couldn't do that!
"No..." she moaned as Alex gently stroked her clit. His
other hand had left her breast and she heard the sound
of a zipper. His cock... Katrina fought to focus her
thoughts. "No... Someone might recognize me..."
"Nah," Alex replied. "Even if someone from school did
see your pictures -- which I really doubt, since they'd
have to be twenty-one years old -- they'd never
recognize you. Not in these clothes, with all this
makeup. Come on, sis, a hot babe like you can make a ton
of money selling pictures of herself for guys to jack
off to."
Katrina gasped again as she thought of hundreds,
thousands of men jerking on their cocks, staring at her
naked body. Her sexy body, with its creamy little snatch
and fabulous tits. Alex's thick shaft was brushing
against her pussy lips now. It was sliding slowly back
and forth across her snatch, the skin of the massive
pole rubbing against her rigidly erect clitoris. She
felt her resistance failing. "Noooo... please... just
fuck me, Alex..."
Alex leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "And after
they get done looking at you, they'll go and fuck their
wives and their girlfriends. But they won't be thinking
about the women they're fucking. They'll be thinking
about you. In their minds, they'll be fucking your hot
little body, sis."
That snapped it. She couldn't stand it anymore. She had
to do it. "Okay... okay... sell the... Oh!... Sell the
pictures, Alex."
"Sure thing, babe," Alex responded. "You won't regret
it. You'll get a lot of money out of it." Katrina nodded
absently, but she was so far gone that she barely
understood what he was saying. She didn't really care
about the money. All she wanted was to be seen. To be
lusted after. To have thousands of men fuck her in their
dreams.
A moment later, she was rewarded for her patience, as
Alex shifted the position of his cock and thrust it
forcefully into her dripping cunt. She came barely a
minute later, screaming through a torrential orgasm, her
hips bucking furiously on her brother's massive shaft as
she thought about how many men were going to see her
sexy young body.
"Five minutes, Tiffany!"
"Okay," the blonde replied, acknowledging the club
manager with a wave. She turned back to the mirror,
checking her appearance once more. She'd curled her hair
before leaving the house, and now it fell in lustrous
blond tresses about her made-up face, a few locks
straying forward sexily to brush her cheeks. Eyeshadow
and mascara highlighted her blue eyes, and her lips
shined with bright red lipstick and gloss. Perfect. She
slipped a pair of black sunglasses over her eyes.
Tiffany stood and stepped back from the mirror to
evaluate her whole body. Her bare legs balanced on
three-inch black heels, stretching up to a pair of black
lace panties that barely covered her pussy. Her
already-wet pussy, she realized. A matching bra
struggled to contain her oversized tits, almost
revealing her rock-hard nipples. She caught a few
appraising glances from the other women in the room.
Jealousy, no doubt. Tiffany knew she looked hot. But
still, her nerves were raw. Did she really want to do
this?
The idea had come to her a week ago, while she'd been
alone at home one day watching TV. She'd been thinking
about her new boobs, and how little appreciation they'd
received. They were incredibly fantastic, a really
gorgeous set of jugs. But nobody got to see them. Well,
Greg did, but that hardly counted. He was only one man.
She wanted a lot of men to see her tits. In fact, she
wanted men to see her whole body. She wanted men to
drool over her, to lust after her.
The thought had stuck with her. Pictures had come
unbidden into her head of women striking sexy poses,
showing off their tits, asses, and pussies for the world
to see. Strippers licking their lips for audiences,
shaking their boobs in customers' faces. Women who
commanded the attention of hundreds of men, women who
inhabited mens' fantasies. That was what she wanted. She
wanted to be lusted after.
The feeling had grown stronger as the days passed. Days
of doing nothing but staying home, watching the teen
dramas she'd grown up with. Days of ever more intense
yearning for the chance to show off her sexy body, with
its fabulous tits. Yesterday, she'd gone out after her
TV shows to do some errands. But without really thinking
about it, she'd found herself heading to a section of
town she usually tried to avoid. She'd been drawn to the
Strip Strip, as it was called, a street that boasted
over a dozen strip clubs. She'd driven up and down it,
scanning the various windowless buildings, thinking
about all the men inside staring at bare tits and wet
pussies. She'd been too afraid to go inside, but unable
to pull herself away from the street. At last she'd
spotted a sign in front of one club, the Beaver Trap,
advertising "Open Amateur Night" every Tuesday. Tuesday
was Greg's poker night.
And so, tonight, without really planning it, she'd come
here. Greg had left for his poker game and Tiffany had
just known that tonight she was going to be a stripper.
There really was no question about it. So she'd packed
up a small bag with the black lace bra and panties that
she'd only worn once, on her first night with Greg, and
the matching black heels. After all, hot babes always
wore heels, didn't they? Of course they did. She just
knew it. She'd spent half an hour styling her hair,
teasing it out into a sexy mane of blond tresses. She'd
lied to the kids, telling them that she had to go to a
last-minute surprise birthday party for a friend. After
leaving a hastily scribbled note for Greg, she'd hoped
in the car and sped off to the Beaver Trap.
The sunglasses had been an afterthought, found in the
bottom of her purse while fishing for lipstick. She'd
tried them on and loved them; they added immensely to
the sultriness of her appearance. Without them, she
looked like a timid young woman trying to look sexy for
her man. With them, she looked like... well, she looked
like a stripper.
But could she go through with it? Could she actually be
a stripper? She'd struggled with her doubts during the
drive over to the club. What if someone she knew was in
the audience? Or what if someone who'd seen her
cheerleading recognized her here? That wouldn't be good.
If anyone found out she was here, she'd get kicked off
the cheerleading squad at the very least.
"Tiffany?" She turned from the mirror to see the manager
beckoning to her. "You're on next. Come on out; the
crowd is eager, and they don't want to be kept waiting,"
he said, beckoning with one pudgy hand.
Tiffany shuddered in pleasure. A crowd... a crowd of
men, eager to see her gorgeous body, eager to feast on
her tits, her ass, her pussy. A hundred men, maybe more,
all looking at her.
Her apprehensions vanished as she walked out the door,
following the porcine manager to the back of the stage.
He stopped there, wrapping one meaty hand around her
upper arm. Normally, she would have been indignant at
the implied familiarity, but she accepted his touch
silently, her thoughts only on the crowd of men waiting
to see her. She could hear them cheering wildly. Cries
of "Bring out the stripper!" and "Let's see some meat!"
filtered through the thin curtains.
"Here's the rules," the manager said, wagging a finger
at her. "You can't let them touch your privates or your
nipples. We get a 25% commission on all your tips. You
get one song. Any requests?" Tiffany shook her head no.
"Okay, then. Wait for the deejay to call your name, then
go out and do your stuff, honey." Tiffany nodded mutely
as the manager stepped back.
Mere seconds later, she heard the music fade and the
deejay's voice booming in the front of the club. "And
now, the Beaver Trap proudly presents the next
contestant in our Open Amateur Night. Put your hands
together for Tiffany!" Tiffany gasped in fright as she
realized she hadn't even made up a fake name. She
couldn't... A strong hand on her ass shoved her forward,
through the gap in the curtains and onto the stage.
She was assaulted by a riot of light and sound as she
fought to regain her footing. Multicolored lights
swirled around her as the loudspeakers pumped out a
heavy bass beat. Tiffany fought to compose herself,
peering desperately through the sunglasses in an attempt
to see what was going on. Slowly, they became distinct
as she separated them out from the maze of shifting
lights. Men. Dozens, hundreds of men, all cheering as
they look at her.
She stood stock still, petrified. What was she supposed
to do? She'd spent all week fantasizing about this
moment, about being on stage with all sorts of horny men
leering at her body. But, she realized, she'd never made
any attempt to learn what she was supposed to do once
she got here. She'd never even been to a club like this
before tonight! She struggled to stay calm, thankful
that the sunglasses hid the terror in her eyes from the
crowd.
And then an image leapt into her mind -- a skimpily
dressed woman on a dimly-lit stage, her hips cocked to
one side as she cupped her tits and smiled. Tiffany
seized on it, doing her best to emulate the stripper in
her mind's eye. She leaned on one leg and brought her
hands up to squeeze her boobs, forcing a smile to her
lips. She felt a wash of relief as the crowd gave a
lusty cheer. What now? Her eyes caught a metal pole
implanted in the stage at the end of a long runway. More
images flashed before her eyes as she caught sight of it
-- strippers swinging from the pole, wrapping their
sleek legs around it, squeezing it between their oiled
tits. She had to use the pole. She walked down the
runway to the pole, doing her best to look sexy. The
cheering of the crowd grew louder as she made her way to
the pole. She drank in the catcalls and the stares, the
dollar bills tossed onstage. All these men staring at
her. Just her. She felt her pussy clench at the thought.
Another image came into her mind just as she reached the
pole. She gripped it with one hand, swinging her body
around as she used her free hand to pull her bra down
off one tit. The released breast popped free, drawing
another wave of yells from the men at the tables below
her. She pulled the skimpy black top off her other boob,
drawing more applause. Another image popped into her
mind. She squeezed her tits together, rubbing the erect
nipples between her fingers. The crowd exploded with
excitement, just as another image flashed before her
eyes. She licked her lips lasciviously as she continued
to fondle her tits, and the cheering redoubled. Tiffany
swooned as she felt her pussy tingle with wet
excitement.
The images were coming faster and faster to her now,
driving her actions almost without any need for
conscious thought. She had no idea where they were
coming from, but her brain was too overwhelmed by them
to care. She was vaguely aware of ripping off her
panties and showing her wet snatch to the crowd. Her
eyes traveled from one face to the next, taking in the
lust in each pair of eyes, each staring face driving her
excitement higher. Still under the control of the images
flashing through her mind, she stepped up to the pole,
wrapping her balloon-like boobs around the cold steel
shaft. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening as she
slid her tits up and down around the pole.
Her arousal grew with each passing moment, bringing her
to undreamt-of heights of sexual pleasure. And it was
like sex. Like having sex with hundreds of men. Each of
the men around her, she knew, was fucking her in his
mind, and she felt as though she could feel them all --
a hundred cocks sliding in and out of her moist pussy.
Her tongue snaked out to lick the pole. The mixture of
sweat and oil coating it was hardly appealing, but she
was only dimly aware of the taste as the crowd surged
again in a lusty cheer. Her orgasm crested and her hips
began to swivel furiously as she ground her clit against
the steel pole, desperate to squeeze every last ounce of
pleasure she could from it.
Moments later, the music faded and Tiffany slowly came
to her senses. She'd fallen onto her back during her
climax, but her hips had continued to work, sliding her
snatch up and down that steel pole, feeding the
mind-blowing orgasm. She struggled to her feet,
remembering where she was, as the deejay asked for
another round of applause for her. She crept to her
feet, trembling, and hurried offstage. The orgasmic
pleasure was seeping away, leaving her with a coldness
inside. What had she done?
She rushed into the dressing room, guilt crashing over
her. She'd just stripped naked in front of hundreds of
strangers. What had possessed her to do that? And then
she'd gone and practically fucked that steel pole! She
rushed to re-dress herself, fumbling with the slacks
she'd worn to the club. She had to get out of this
place!
She'd just finished fastening the pants when the manager
burst into the dressing room. "Tiffany! That was
fantastic! You're a sure thing to win the..." He paused
as he realized what she was doing. "Wait... you can't
leave!" he exclaimed.
"I... I have to go," she stammered, pulling on her
blouse and struggling with the buttons.
"But... but you won't be able to collect the prize money
if you don't stay until the end of the contest. You'll
be disqualified if you leave now."
"I need to get home," she replied tersely, not meeting
the manager's eye. She didn't want the money. She wanted
to get out of this filthy hole. She wanted to get away
from her shame at what she'd done.
"But... but..." the manager protested as she picked up
her purse and marched to the door. He followed her,
still sputtering. "Look, at least take my card. Call me
sometime if you want to make some extra money." Tiffany
walked past him, not responding, turning down the hall
toward the read door. She didn't want to walk through
the club floor again.
"Come on, Tiffany," the manager pleaded, "you could
clean up as a dancer. You had every guy out there hard
for you."
Tiffany froze, one hand on the door, stifling a gasp.
All those men, looking at her. Her pussy clenched at the
thought. The sensations she'd felt on the dance floor
returned. All those eyes on her, all those cocks getting
hard just for her. She turned slowly, trying to hold in
the emotions surging through her. "O-okay," she
stammered. "Give me the card." She held out one hand
impatiently.
The pudgy man placed the card in her hand. "Please, call
me anytime. I can work with whatever schedule you need,
and hours that are convenient for..."
But Tiffany was already out the door, running to her
car. She wasn't going to dance again. She'd just taken
the card to shut him up. She didn't want to dance again.
She certainly didn't want to be a stripper. Certainly
not. She definitely didn't want to have all those men
staring at her. All those men lusting after her. All
those men dreaming of fucking her...
Five minutes later, as the furious movements of her
finger on her clit brought her to orgasm in the front
seat of the car, she was no longer quite so certain.
Chapter Four
Tiffany Young glanced around the lavishly decorated
ballroom, trying to hide her boredom. Hundreds of people
were gathered in the middle, mingling and talking.
Talking almost exclusively about football. If one more
person tried to talk to her about the team's chances in
the playoffs, she'd scream.
She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be where she'd
been every night this week. But Greg had been insistent,
saying she went out with her friends every night, and
that with the recent upsurge in her social life, she
hardly paid attention to him anymore. So she'd decided
to give in and come with him to this charity banquet.
And, as she'd expected, he'd abandoned her to go chat
with his old buddies from the team, leaving her to fend
for herself.
His complaints about her absence at home were true
enough; she hardly spent any time with him these days,
and she was almost never at home in the evenings. She
found herself uninterested in her marriage. Greg just
didn't excite her anymore. She felt that she needed
someone... younger. However, Greg didn't know the truth
about where Tiffany spent her evenings. She told him she
was out partying and dancing with her cheerleading
friends. Well, at least the dancing part was true.
Every night when she stepped out on the stage of the
Beaver Trap, she felt like she'd gone to heaven. She
lived for the time she spent on stage, shaking her tits,
wiggling her ass, and spreading her legs for her adoring
audience. Seeing all those men staring at her, lusting,
knowing they all wanted nothing more than to fuck her,
to shove their rock-hard cocks into the glistening wet
snatch she was waving in their faces, was ecstasy. Each
dollar bill waved in her face was a thing of beauty.
Her pussy grew damp as she thought about it. Damn, she
wanted to be there, strutting in front of horny men,
showing off her finely toned cheerleader's body with its
pert, round boobs jutting proudly forth from her chest.
Her big, juicy tits... Tiffany closed her eyes and
sighed as she thought about them. One hand slowly rose
to her chest.
"Honey, there you are!" Tiffany jumped at the sound of
her husband's voice. "I've been looking all over for
you," Greg admonished, leading a tuxedoed young man over
to her. "I'd like you to meet Trent Hillman, the winner
of this year's Jacobsen Trophy. Trent, this is my wife
Tiffany, one of the Tigers' cheerleaders."
Tiffany shook out of her reverie, struggling to remember
her social graces. "How do you do, Trent? I've heard so
much about you. The Jacobsen trophy -- wow!" she
exclaimed, trying to force as much interest as possible
into her voice. She had no clue what the Jacobsen trophy
was, and she really didn't care.
"Th-thank you, ma'am," the boy gushed. "It's really no
big deal," he said modestly.
"Oh, come on!" Greg exclaimed, "He's the best
quarterback in the state! I saw one of his games back in
September, and let me tell you..."
Tiffany tuned out, her mind drifting back to the strip
club. Her thighs were itching. Those thighs, she
thought, should have been spread across a customer's
legs, supporting her as she twisted and turned, shoving
her tits in his face.
At first she'd refused the manager's pleas for her to
give lapdances to customers. She'd been content to dance
on stage, drinking in the lusty gazes of the men in the
crowd. She'd had no desire to come into personal contact
with some hairy, sweaty neanderthal who'd no doubt paw
crudely at her gorgeous body.
And then something had changed. She couldn't really put
her finger on it, but for some reason she'd found the
idea of lapdancing less repugnant. She found herself
looking enviously at the strippers giving lapdances. The
customers gave them money, and they dispensed... sexual
favors. The idea, for some reason, appealed to her. And
so, to the manager's surprise and delight, she had
started to give lapdances.
She'd found the experience wonderful. Men gave her
money, and she provided sexual pleasure. It was so
simple, and yet so fulfilling at the same time. She
delighted in the groans she elicited from a customer as
she pushed her tits into his face. She thrilled to the
stiffening she felt as she rubbed her ass against his
crotch. Once she'd even felt a customer orgasm as she
danced on his lap. She'd almost come herself as she felt
him stiffen underneath her.
She collected twenty dollars a dance, plus frequent
tips. She loved collecting the cash, although she wasn't
really interested in making money. She was just
fascinated by the idea of getting paid to provide sexual
pleasure to men. It made her feel cheap and dirty, and
Tiffany had recently discovered that she loved to feel
cheap and dirty. In fact, she'd recently started feeling
as though she wanted to do even more...
"Tiffany!"
Tiffany shook out of her musings as she realized her
husband hand finished the football story and was talking
to her. "Yes, honey?" she inquired with forced
sweetness.
"Could you entertain Trent for a moment while I go say
hi to some folks?" Greg was looking across the room,
waving at one of his old teammates.
"Sure, honey," Tiffany sighed, remembering why she hated
these functions. Greg always abandoned her with people
she didn't know, leaving her to make awkward small-talk.
"Thanks," he said, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the
cheek as he strode quickly off toward his friends.
Tiffany sighed and turned to face the young guy. What
was his name? Terrence?
She found him staring at her boobs, and smiled a bit.
Now that she thought about it, he was pretty cute, like
a little boy. Like a little brother. Tiffany felt her
crotch growing moist as she looked at him. "Like what
you see?" Tiffany asked teasingly.
The young man jumped, startled. "Oh! Uh... Sorry, Mrs.
Young, I d-didn't mean to..."
"Oh, that's all right," she cooed in her sexiest
lapdance voice. She stepped forward, bringing her face
inches from his. "Why don't we go take a walk and maybe
I'll give you a better look?" she murmured.
The boy's jaw dropped for a few seconds as Tiffany
licked her upper lip. "O-okay," he croaked, allowing her
to lead him away by the arm. Maybe, she thought, the
evening wouldn't turn out to be such a waste after all.
"Okay, now bring your other hand down and spread that
pussy, you cheap little slut." Katrina's ruby-red lips
parted at her brother's words, a soft moan escaping
between them. Damn, she was horny. He'd been giving her
this sort of verbal abuse all evening -- calling her a
slut, or a tramp, or a whore -- and she'd grown more and
more aroused each time. This was the fourth time she'd
posed for Alex's camera. Each photo shoot seemed to be
even sexier and more arousing than the last.
This time she was wearing a tight, shiny, pink dress
several sizes too small for her. Well, it wasn't really
accurate to say she was wearing it anymore -- it had
been pulled down off her tits and up off her ass and now
lay bunched up around her waist. Her feet were tucked
into shiny, transparent plastic pumps and the outfit was
completed by a bubbly pink purse. She looked like a
cheap street whore, Alex had told her.
A whore. Katrina felt a tingle of pleasure run up her
spine as she remembered Alex's words. She loved it when
he talked to her like that. She loved thinking of
herself as a whore. A slut. A tramp. It was strange, she
thought, how quickly her opinions had changed on the
subject. She was sure that even a week ago, she would
have gotten angry at Alex if he'd spoken to her that
way. Now, though? Well, now he was doing it and she was
getting hot as a result. A hot little whore. Oh, yeah.
"Okay, now I want some pictures of you on your back, you
horny little slut," Alex said. "Let's see you finger
that tight, dripping snatch of yours." Katrina groaned
audibly at his words as she rolled onto her back. She
didn't think she could take much more of this.
Alex grinned as his sexy older sister obeyed his
commands, turning onto her back and spreading her
shapely legs for his camera. "That's good. Hold it right
there, sis. Let's see that slutty little pussy." Alex
pretended to ignore the effect his words were having on
the voluptuous redhead, but noted with satisfaction that
she grew more excited each time he talked to her that
way.
It was hardly a surprise, of course. The first few photo
shoots Alex had done with Katrina had produced some very
nice pictures, and Alex had had an easy time selling
them to internet porn sites. But Katrina, despite
enjoying the photoshoots very much (and being very eager
for a fucking after each one) had been nervous when not
in front of the camera. She'd started asking him
questions about where the pictures went and who would
see them. It was clear that although she was excited by
the idea of men masturbating to her nubile young body,
she was concerned about someone she knew seeing the
pictures. She was worried about her friends at school
discovering what she was doing. Katrina's thought
processes were still very much governed by those inane
teen dramas she watched on TV, and just like the girls
on those shows, she didn't want to be known as a slut.
Alex had begun to get annoyed by her constant worrying.
It had annoyed him until he'd remembered he could fix
it. It was entirely within his ability to make Katrina
not only not worry about having her hobbies discovered,
but make her enjoy being a slut. The most recent set of
subliminal messages and images Alex had been inserting
into her television shows had been designed to give
precisely this effect. The messages had been simple
statements like "I want to be my little brother's whore"
and "I love being a cheap slut for my little brother."
The accompanying images featured scantily clad women
engaging in a variety of sex acts. In each image, the
man had a thought bubble containing a phrase like "Wow,
what a horny bitch!" or "This bimbo is one hot little
slut!"
And now it seemed that the pictures and messages had had
exactly the effect Alex had wanted. He'd selected the
outfit specifically to provide a whorish look in order
to test the most recent set of subliminals. It had only
taken the slightest verbal prodding from him to get
Katrina excited. "God, you look like a cheap little
whore," Alex had said, and Katrina had gone wild.
"Okay, let's see you on all fours, slut. Show that
slutty pussy to the camera." Alex grinned as he heard
Katrina gasp in pleasure at his command. He raised the
camera and began shooting.
Katrina felt herself panting heavily as the camera
clicked and whirred behind her. She'd never experienced
anything like this before. She loved the idea of being
her little brother's whore. His bitch. His slut.
The noise of the camera stopped and Katrina heard Alex
setting it on the bed beside her. She squealed in
anticipation. He was going to fuck her! Her
already-moist pussy clenched in anticipation as she felt
him climb onto the bed behind her, his hands coming to
rest softly on her hips. She heard him unzipping his
jeans and felt the round knob of his prick softly
touching the lips of her pussy. Katrina tried to push
herself backward onto his cock, but Alex held her firmly
in place.
"Are you a whore, sis?"
"Y-yes, Alex," she stammered.
"Say it."
"I'm a... a whore," she said in a small voice,
trembling. Oh, God, it was true! She felt a surge of
excitement as she said it. She wanted nothing more than
to be her little brother's property.
"Are you a slut? Are you a bitch?"
"Yes, I'm a s-slut. I'm a... a bitch," she moaned.
"Then take my cock, bitch," Alex responded as he shoved
his erect member deep inside her. Katrina shuddered in
pleasure, squealing as she felt his massive shaft
penetrating her damp pussy. Her slutty pussy. She humped
frantically against her brother, desperate to stimulate
herself to orgasm.
She felt Alex bending down over her, and gasped as she
felt him rubbing her clit with one hand. Katrina could
feel him breathing into her ear as she desperately
humped herself against him. She felt her spine tense
with orgasm as he softly whispered in her ear.
"Slut."
Katrina screamed in pleasure as she felt her brother's
massive shaft explode inside her.
Vincent Stabone cast about the Beaver Trap
speculatively, evaluating the various girls with a
practiced eye. He recognized most of them from previous
visits to the club, but there were a few new dancers.
Time to get to work, then.
He took a seat at an empty table and examined the
prospects while waiting for a drink. The redhead on the
far side of the room looked intriguing. He watched as
she gave a lapdance to a middle-aged executive. Vince
liked her moves, but they seemed a little too
enthusiastic. Too... happy. The smile on her face was
almost sickening. She obviously enjoyed being a
stripper. Vince wasn't looking for a happy girl.
A few tables to the right of the redhead, a petite
brunette was sitting on a customer's lap, chatting him
up. Vince watched carefully as the drama played out. The
stripper was looking for a lapdance, and the customer
was clearly trying to keep her on his lap as long as
possible without paying. Vince noted her growing
frustration with approval. She was definitely a
possibility.
He'd been doing this so long it had almost become second
nature to read these girls, even without talking to
them. The brunette was like an open book to Vince. A
snobby college bitch, she had discovered after a year or
two that the spending allowance she got from Daddy
wouldn't pay for all the fancy new clothes and jewelry
she wanted. So she'd started stripping. It had probably
been just stage dances at first, but the call of money
had worn down her resistance, and she'd started
lapdancing. She lived in fear of her parents discovering
what she was doing in her spare time, but she needed the
money to fuel her shopping sprees.
Maybe he didn't have the details exactly right, but he
knew enough. Vince knew how to work her. It was a scheme
he'd developed and perfected over the last few years. It
had started as a hobby, something to do to amuse himself
in his free time.
Vince was a dealer by trade. He'd begun in the streets,
but his small frame and boyish looks had been a
liability. To deal on the streets, you had to be tough,
and almost as importantly, you had to look tough. Few of
the street gangs had taken Vince seriously, and he'd
realized his life expectancy wasn't very high under
those circumstances.
But he'd discovered an alternative almost by accident.
At a strip club, he'd gotten into a conversation with a
high-powered corporate executive and wound up arranging
a sizeable sale. One week later, that executive had
turned him on to another sales prospect. Vince had
quickly realized that there was a sizeable market of
wealthy businessmen interested in high-grade product.
These men, by and large, had no contacts with the gangs
in the city, primarily because they were intimidated by
the violence associated with them.
At last, Vince's youthful appearance was an asset rather
than a liability. The executives didn't fear him, and he
was thus able to gain their confidence. Since Vince was
the only real conduit for the product he sold, once he
had broken into the rich-executive market he effectively
had it cornered. He purchased from the gangs and sold to
the executives, making a killing in the middle.
One night, while Vince was living high off the brisk
trade with the suits, he'd met a stripper named Cynthia.
Vince had never had much luck with women. Most of the
women he met in his line of work were interested in men
with power. While Vince did have power, in his own way,
he didn't look like a powerful man, and in this case,
appearance was at least as important as reality.
But Cynthia reacted differently, perhaps because she
hadn't known what Vince did for a living. She'd spent
quite a bit of time on his lap, chatting him up well
beyond the usual for a stripper looking for lapdances.
It had dawned on Vince that she was interested in him
because he looked innocent and non-threatening, and
she'd seen far too many seedy men in her time as a
stripper.
Vince had played on her attraction to him, bringing her
to his apartment that night and drawing her out. She
was, it turned out, a college student who'd started
stripping "to make ends meet." Vince explored her
psyche, discovering that she was bitter and angry with
herself, tired of earning money by offering her body to
sleazy men. Vince had played off her emotions, allowing
her to talk about herself without revealing much of his
own life in return.
At last, when he was sure he had her confidence, Vince
had casually mentioned that he had a little bit of
cocaine lying around that a friend had given him. He'd
been afraid to try it himself, but maybe if they tried
it together, it would be fun. After a few seconds of
worried thought, she'd agreed.
It had been a simple matter to get her high on the
pure-grade stuff while only snorting pure flour himself.
Getting flour in your nose was annoying, but there was
no way Vince was going to fuck himself up on his own
wares. She got high, and they fucked like bunnies.
Over the next few weeks, Vince had played on her
affection for him, continually buying little presents
for his "girlfriend." Meanwhile, he'd continued to
provide her with a steady stream of high-quality dope,
intending merely to make sure she would still need him
even if she got tired of him.
It surprised him when he got bored of her, instead. When
he'd insisted that she start paying for her own coke,
she'd begged him not to. She couldn't afford it, she
said. He then hit upon an interesting idea. If she
couldn't pay for it in cash, she'd have to make good by
providing services for his clients. She'd rebelled at
that and left, but after a few days away she'd shown up
on his doorstep, promising to do anything he wanted,
fuck anyone he wanted if he'd just give her a fix.
And thus Vince had begun dealing in a second vice, sex.
He already had the clientele; many of his customers were
eager for a pretty young piece of ass like Cynthia, and
Vince made good money pimping her around. By that time,
he'd picked up two more "girlfriends" with his innocent,
boyish charms.
Vince was now the proud manager of a dozen different
sluts, all of them picked up in high-class strip clubs.
He'd found that his customers liked the fresh-faced
girls he employed, and were willing to pay premium
prices for the chance to fuck some college-aged pussy.
Vince had made a killing by combining the two
businesses; he had his bitches make deliveries for him.
The customer was told to treat the slut like a hotel
minibar; she was available for whatever he wanted, and
he'd be charged for whatever he did with her. Vince made
a killing with this scheme, and supplemented his
earnings nicely by arranging extra dates with the whores
for his clients.
Vince grinned as he watched the petite brunette trying
to elicit money from the man on whose lap she was
sitting. He could see her frustration building as the
portly businessman continued to string her along. She
would do nicely, Vince thought. He accepted his drink
from the waitress and tipped her generously. He would
probably have to wait awhile until the brunette worked
her way around the room to him, but he could be patient.
Tiffany arched her back, thrusting her balloonlike boobs
into the face of her grinning customer. It was getting
late, and she needed to be getting home soon. Greg still
thought she spent most of her evenings hanging out with
her cheerleading friends, and she couldn't stay out too
much longer without him getting suspicious.
This had to be her last dance of the night. Determined
to make the most of it, the blond cheerleader wiggled
her torso, causing her tits to bounce in front of the
customer's eyes. Tiffany giggled as she saw his eyes
widen. The song was almost at an end, so Tiffany pulled
out her final card. Leaning forward, she mashed her
chest into his face, burying him in her cleavage. While
he was occupied with this, she slipped one hand between
his legs to cup the rock-hard lump in his pants. He
gasped in surprise. What Tiffany was doing was against
the rules, but she couldn't restrain herself. Guess I'm
just a slut, she thought to herself.
She felt her spine tingle at the thought. A slut. Yes,
she wanted to be a slut. She loved the idea of being a
slut. Or even a whore. Oh God, that one was even better.
Her hand worked on its own, furiously rubbing at the
stiff cock as she thought about being someone's whore.
She'd been fantasizing about this for a few weeks, most
often while watching TV during the day. She wanted men
to think of her as a mere sex object. The idea made her
incredibly horny.
Tiffany stifled a moan as she felt the swollen cock
under her fingers throbbing with release. The wetness
she felt moments later brought a smile to her lips. For
a moment she toyed with the idea of going home with this
guy, throwing herself at him recklessly, begging for his
cock, becoming the wanton slut she so wanted to be.
But... well, it didn't feel right. He was too old. She
wanted someone younger. Maybe even younger than her.
Besides, she really had to get home.
"Thanks," she whispered as the song ended. "I hope you
enjoyed that as much as I did." She placed a soft kiss
on his cheek and smiled. He gaped at her as she stood
up, zipping up the tight white dress. Tiffany favored
him with a final wink as she turned toward the door that
led to the dressing room.
Tiffany made her way between the tables, politely
refusing the twenty-dollar bills thrust at her. "Sorry,
I have to go..." she repeated. She wanted to stay, she
really did, but Greg would be getting worried soon.
She had almost reached the door when she noticed him. He
was seated at a table by himself, nursing a drink.
Approaching him from behind, Tiffany could only see his
back. He looked... well, he looked young. There was
something captivating about him. She cautiously edged
forward, craning her neck for a better look at his face.
Tiffany gasped when she saw him. He looked even younger.
Hell, he looked too young to even be in the club.
Tiffany felt her pussy moisten as she looked at him. He
was certainly younger than she was. He could have been
her little brother. She gasped at the idea. Being a slut
for her little brother.
All thoughts of Greg and getting home left her mind. She
stepped forward with as much confidence as she could
muster.
Vince relaxed as he watched the brunette give up in
frustration and move on around the room. She was heading
in his direction. Good. It wouldn't be long now.
He was startled by a hand on his shoulder. "Hi there,
handsome," he heard a soft voice say. "Looking for a
little fun?" Vince turned to see a stunning blonde
addressing him.
She was amazing. Everything about her radiated class,
from her immaculately-applied makeup to her elegantly
styled hair to her smooth, tanned legs. Vince couldn't
recall ever seeing a woman this attractive lapdancing
before.
He knew there was no chance of seducing her the way he'd
seduced those insecure, self-loathing college girls.
This babe was clearly an expert. Her appearance showed
an obvious expertise in making herself look good. An
experienced stripper, likely.
And yet, somehow, she didn't quite look like it. She
seemed less confident than he would have expected.
Nervous, somehow. Uncertain. Vince knew that he
shouldn't accept her offer; he didn't want to be
occupied when the brunette finally reached him. But he
was curious as to what was going on in this stripper's
head. Besides, she was fucking gorgeous. "Sure, honey,"
he replied casually.
He sensed something like excitement from her as she slid
down to sit on his lap. Her eyes remained locked on his,
her lips slightly parted. She bit her lower lip
nervously, something Vince found incredibly appealing.
"You... you wanna see my tits?" she asked, one hand
going to the zipper at the top of her dress. The
question stunned him for a second. He recovered, but he
was still mystified. Vince noticed her breathing was
quick and shallow. She was clearly excited. This was
just weird. Her appearance was that of a seasoned
stripper, but she acted almost like a nervous schoolgirl
on a first date.
"Sure, babe, I'd love to see your tits," he replied. A
happy grin spread across her face as she pulled the
zipper downward, allowing her boobs to spring free. They
were impressive: large, round, and obviously fake. Vince
gazed at them intently, admiring them while trying to
understand what was going on.
"Do you like my boobs?" she asked timidly.
"Yeah, they're fabulous, honey," Vince responded.
"Nicest pair I've ever seen." The delirious smile on her
face grew wider at his words. Vince couldn't understand.
The blonde's augmented chest was another clear
indication that she was a professional, but her giddy
reaction to his compliments made that hard to believe.
She was facing him now, straddling his legs, the firm,
round globes of her tits rising and falling inches from
his chest. Her eyes were still locked on his, her lips
parted and moist. He watched in fascination as she
unzipped her dress the rest of the way, exposing her
sleek, tanned stomach and the soft thatch of her pubic
hair. Vince gulped. Jesus, she was hot. He hadn't even
paid her yet.
And there was still the look of nervousness in her eyes.
Tiffany struggled to stay calm. He was so goddamn cute.
She wanted to throw him on the ground and fuck him right
there in the club. But that wouldn't be right, she
though. She wanted him to fuck her, but she wanted more
than that.
She reached down to rub his cock through his pants, just
as she had the customer she'd been lapdancing for a
moment earlier. But this was different. Before, she had
been teasing. Now, she was serious. Her hand squeezed
him tightly and began rubbing urgently. He groaned out
loud at her touch.
She didn't want to ask him. Not here, not now. But she
had to know. She had to know if he would be what she
needed. Her breath grew even shallower as she leaned
forward to whisper in his ear. "I want... I want to be
your slut."
She leaned back and watched his reaction, her heart in
her throat. Her pussy clenched with desperate need as
she waited for his reply. She needed this so badly. She
needed to belong to this... this boy. "Please," she
pleaded softly, "let me be your slut. I w-want to be
your whore."
He was silent for a long moment before responding.
"Okay."
Tiffany almost collapsed with relief. She leaned forward
and kissed him hungrily, her lips and tongue struggling
to taste him. Her hand squeezed his cock through his
pants as her hips humped up and down involuntarily. She
began to unzip his pants.
It came as a surprise when he pushed her away. She
blinked, gasping. Had she done something wrong?
"Not here," he told her firmly. "Go into the back, get
your things and freshen up. Don't change. Keep that
dress on. Meet me at the side entrance in five minutes."
She mewled plaintively and reached for his cock again.
He slapped her hand away. "Do it," he said firmly. "Do
it now."
Chastened, Tiffany stood up and hurried toward the door,
looking back only once. He was still sitting there,
watching her. "Go," he mouthed at her. She obeyed, only
dimly aware of how many people were staring at her.
She stumbled into the dressing room and found the
athletic bag she'd brought with her street clothes. She
opened it to change, but then remembered her lover's
instructions and closed it again. She zipped up the
skimpy white dress and freshened her lipstick. She heard
one of the other dancers enter the room, fresh from the
floor, followed by furtive whispers among the girls in
the room.
Tiffany finished touching up her hair and stepped back
into the hall just as a chorus of derisive laughter
erupted from the room behind her. She heard one of the
girls muttering in a voice just loud enough to hear.
"What a slut!" Her legs almost buckled. God, yes. A
slut. A slut for her little brother.
Vince idled his engine by the side door of the club. He
still couldn't believe what had happened. The stripper,
the gorgeous blond stripper with the perfect makeup and
the boob job, had actually begged him to make her a
whore. It couldn't have really happened, could it? Part
of him didn't really expect her to come out the door. It
was probably some sort of joke. Right now, she'd be
inside with all her friends, laughing about how she'd
toyed with the little boy.
But the door opened, and there she was, still wearing
the slutty white dress and the matching heels. She'd
freshened up a bit, as per his instructions, but
otherwise she still looked like a stripper. Vince popped
open the passenger-side door of his red Porsche. "Get
in." She did so, seating herself opposite him in the
low-slung sports car. She closed the door and Vince
peeled out of the parking lot, heading for his house.
He looked across the seat at his new bitch. She still
looked nervous as she stared back at him. She was for
real. Vince still had no idea why this babe was so hot
to be his slut, but it was obvious that she was. She'd
need some training, but her looks alone guaranteed that
once he'd taught her how to fuck she'd be the most
valuable piece of pussy in his stable.
Training, he decided, could start right now. "What's
your name, honey?" he asked.
"Tiffany," she replied in a small voice.
"And you want to be my whore, Tiffany?"
She licked her lips. "Y-yeah," she responded.
He grinned. "Well, you can start by giving me a blow."
Her blue eyes flicked momentarily downward to his
crotch. "You... you mean n-now?" she whispered.
"Yeah, now, bitch," he replied, allowing a touch of
anger into his voice. "A good slut does what she's
told."
Her eyes closed and Vince could have sworn he saw her
shudder at his words. "O-okay," she replied. Ever so
slowly, she leaned over and began to unzip his pants.
Vince groaned as he felt his cock straining to get free.
There was a look of almost rapturous pleasure on the
blond stripper's face as she pulled his pants open. His
cock sprang forth, already erect. She reached out
gingerly to touch it, then looked up at him
questioningly. "Well?" he asked impatiently. "I don't
have all day, whore."
She quickly took him into her mouth and began to pump
her head up and down. Her technique was inexperienced,
but she was definitely enthusiastic. Vince could hear
her moaning as he watched the mass of blond hair rise
and fall in his lap. Damn, the bitch was hot! "A little
deeper, babe... That's it..." he coached. "Now use your
tongue on the underside... oh, yeah!"
He sure as hell didn't want to get pulled over by a cop
tonight, but he couldn't help breaking the speed limit
as his foot grew heavy on the pedal, his engine stoked
by the eager mouth of his newest whore.
"Oh God, yes, fuck me!" Tiffany screamed as she felt
Vince's cock pounding in and out of her pussy. She'd
learned that being vocal was really important to Vince.
"A good whore always makes a lot of noise while she's
getting fucked," Vince had told her. He'd been giving
her all sorts of instructions, teaching her how to talk
like a whore, how to suck cock like a whore, and
finally, how to fuck like a whore. Tiffany found the
whole thing incredibly sexy; she'd lost count of how
many orgasms she'd had.
Vince's house was quite fancy, sitting on a large lot in
the suburbs. His lawn was nicely manicured, and there
was even a gate at the bottom of the driveway that Vince
had opened with some sort of electronic key. Tiffany had
been amazed at the opulence; she couldn't believe that
someone so young-looking could be so wealthy.
After parking the car in the garage, Vince had wasted no
time ushering her into the bedroom, where he'd begun to
lecture her on exactly how she was supposed to behave.
Tiffany had been confused by this; she was horny and she
just wanted to fuck. But it seemed terribly important to
Vince; he seemed to have very definite ideas about what
it meant for her to be his whore.
So she'd played along, listening as he'd instructed her
on how to walk and how to talk. He'd made her approach
him again and again, offering herself in a different way
each time, sometimes pretending he was someone else.
"Wanna fuck, baby?" "Here's your package, Mr. Johnson.
Is there anything you'd like to give me?" "Oooh, I've
got an itch I was hoping you could scratch." And so on.
It had been repetitive, but it had also been extremely
arousing. Tiffany had found herself getting wetter and
wetter between her legs as she repeated the sexy
come-ons to her boyish lover. She loved playing the part
of the slut. Her little brother's slut.
At long last, he'd ordered her to get on the bed and
undress. "And make it sexy," he'd added. That she could
do. Tiffany went into her best routine from the club,
licking her lips seductively as she pulled the zipper
down the front of her tight white dress. She noted with
delight that Vince's eyes were locked on her balloonlike
tits; she made sure to wiggle them slightly as she
slipped the dress off her body.
Apparently, Vince had been satisfied with her
performance; at least he hadn't forced her to repeat it
over and over again. Her pussy had clenched
involuntarily as he'd made her unzip his pants and pull
out his swollen cock. She'd wanted to jump him right
then, but he'd lectured her again, telling her that a
slut's duty was to pleasure her man first, and only
after that to worry about her own orgasm.
He'd then gone into exactly how she was supposed to
behave while he was fucking her. She was supposed to be
talking the whole time, telling him how good his cock
felt inside her, how hot she was getting, begging him to
keep fucking her. Tiffany was starting to get a little
annoyed at this. Sure, she wanted to be his whore, and
she was ecstatic that he wanted to treat her like one.
But all this talk was just getting in the way of getting
her slutty pussy filled with his cock. Christ, how big
was this guy's ego that he had to give her all these
instructions? But she sat through it, and at long last
he'd finished. "Now, just like I told you. I want to
fuck you."
She'd struggled to remember his instructions. Laying
back on the bed, she'd spread her legs wide. He grinned
in approval, and Tiffany thanked her cheerleader
training for giving her such flexibility. She'd licked
her lips lustily, spreading her pussy open with one hand
while the other idly cupped one tit. "There, that's a
good little whore," Vince had praised her. As usual, the
mere sound of the word "whore" was enough to send a
tingle up her spine.
It had taken Vince mere seconds to jump on top of her
and thrust his cock into her damp snatch. "Now remember
what I told you, bitch," he'd moaned as he began to
stroke his cock in and out of her. Tiffany had done her
best, continually rubbing her tits, caressing his
shoulders and chest, tossing her head back and forth,
and keeping up the dirty talk as best she could.
Vince seemed pleased enough with her performance.
"That's it, honey..." he moaned. "Oh, yeah, gonna fuck
you good, you little slut!" he growled, emphasizing the
point with a quick thrust of his cock.
Tiffany squealed in genuine pleasure, but kept enough
presence of mind to keep talking. "Oh, yeah, baby, give
me that cock! Give it to me hard and deep! Fuck
meeeeeeee!"
"Oh, yeah, that's a good whore," Vince growled as he
continued to fuck her. "You're going to be the best slut
I ever had, Tiffany." Tiffany humped furiously against
him, desperate to bring him off, desperate to fulfill
her duty like a good whore. She felt him stiffen as he
thrust his cock deep inside her snatch one final time.
"I'm coming, bitch!"
"Oh, God! Give it to me!" she screamed. It was no longer
an act. She felt a desperate need for Vince's jism. She
wanted it inside her, to prove that she was really a
slut. Vince's slut. Her little brother's slut. He
gripped her tightly as he erupted into her, shooting wad
after wad of jism deep into her pussy. She arched her
back as her orgasm crested and rolled over her.
It was nearly a minute before she came to her senses.
Vince pulled his spent cock out of her still-twitching
pussy. "That was fabulous. You're one fine fuck,
Tiffany," he remarked casually. Tiffany sighed
contentedly, still basking in the afterglow of her
mind-shattering orgasm.
She felt Vince get up from the bed. "Okay, I want you
dressed when I come back. I need to get some sleep. And
fix your makeup, too. A whore should always look sexy."
Before she could respond, he walked out of the room,
throwing on a bathrobe as he did so.
A little miffed at his perfunctory treatment of her,
Tiffany stood up and dressed herself. It didn't take
long; she'd kept the heels on all through the sex
(because Vince had told her that was that a good whore
did) and the only other thing she'd had on was the
skimpy dress.
She'd just finished reapplying her lipstick when Vince
came back in. He handed her a small cel phone. "When
this rings, answer it. I don't care where you are or
what time it is. You can set it to vibrate, but you'd
better answer it. Answer it and do exactly what I tell
you. Understand?"
Tiffany didn't really, but she nodded anyway. "Good.
There'll be a cab at the front gate in five minutes.
Here's some money to get home. And a little extra for
the fuck. Now go let yourself out. I want to get some
sleep."
Dazed and confused, Tiffany stumbled out of the bedroom
and down the hall. She found the front door and walked
down to stand in front of the driveway gate. The cab, as
expected, showed up momentarily, and she got inside, all
the time hating herself for fucking that asshole.
She was aware of the cabbie's eyes on her upthrust tits
as she gave him directions to the strip club, where she
had to go to retrieve her car. It was obvious what he
was thinking. A young woman in a sexy dress taking a cab
back to a strip club was obviously a whore.
A whore. Well hell, she pretty much was a whore now.
She'd met a strange man, gone home with him, fucked his
brains out, and then gotten some money in return. That
was it. She was Vince's whore. Little Vince's whore.
Little brother Vince's whore. Her hand crept down to the
hem of her dress as she thought about it.
Five minutes later, the bumpy ride in the cab and the
urgent movements of her fingers brought her to a climax.
She no longer cared what the cabbie thought.
Chapter Five
"You should totally buy that for your next date!"
Tiffany gushed. "With boobs like those, you'll be lucky
if some guy doesn't fuck you right when you meet him at
the door!"
Katrina giggled at that. "Oh, come on, Tiff, do you
really think this works for me?" She ran a hand across
the shiny black leather tube top.
"Oh, absolutely, honey! That outfit just screams sex!
Get it with that red skirt and the black fuck-me pumps
and you'll have every cock for miles around standing at
attention. Guys go crazy for that slut look." Katrina
swooned at that last statement, And with good reason,
Tiffany thought to herself. Any girl would be proud to
have a body like Katrina's. It took a special kind of
woman to be a slut, and Katrina should have been
rightfully proud that she had the body for it.
That was, of course, why Tiffany had brought her to this
erotic boutique in one corner of the local mall. She
wanted to get Katrina some new clothes that would
properly show off that fabulous body. Tiffany was so
glad to have a stepdaughter with such potential. Maybe
with a little nudge in the right direction... "You
know," she remarked slyly to the redheaded teenager, "if
you showed that outfit to your little brother, he'd
probably want to fuck you, too."
"Tiffany!" Katrina gasped, her face pale with shock.
"How do you know... I-I mean, how c-could you say
something like that?" she demanded.
Tiffany was taken aback by the reaction. "I'm sorry,
honey, I didn't mean to upset you. It was... well, it
was just an idea." Tiffany knew that if she had a little
brother like Alex, she'd be eager to be his slut. If
Katrina couldn't see how sexy that would be, that was
her problem. "You have to admit, he is kind of cute..."
"Tiffany!"
"Okay, okay... sorry, honey."
"Well... okay," the redhead replied, turning back to the
mirror, her face flushed. Tiffany wondered what the hell
had gotten into the girl. Surely she couldn't be that
big a prude.
Just then, her phone rang. Vince. Her pussy squeezed
involuntarily just at the sound. She blushed at the
thought that within thirty minutes she'd be taking
Vince's cock up her pussy, just like the hot slut she
was for him.
Every single day for the past two weeks, ever since that
night he'd picked her up at the strip club and took her
home for a fuck, Vince had called her. The message was
always the same: she was to meet him immediately at a
certain location, dressed a certain way. Once he'd
called her in the morning while she was making breakfast
for Alex and Katrina and told her to meet him at the
train station downtown in business attire. It had been
difficult to explain to the kids why she had to leave so
suddenly, but she'd made up an excuse about needing to
be at the bank when it opened. Vince had found her at
the station and fucked her in an out-of-the-way
custodial closet, all the while praising her and telling
her what an obedient little slut she was. He'd sent her
home with a fifty dollar "reward".
Once he'd called her at home in the evening, telling her
to show up at a hotel room downtown wearing nothing but
a fur coat. That had been a bit more difficult,
requiring her to explain to Greg that she had to leave
in the middle of dinner to see an unexpectedly sick
friend at the hospital. Thankfully, she'd managed to
sneak the coat into the car without anyone noticing.
Vince had been in the hotel room, of course, and had
been quite pleased to see her nude body under the coat.
He'd rewarded her with a good fucking and another fifty
dollars.
And once he'd even called while she was dancing at the
Beaver Trap. She hadn't gotten the call, of course;
she'd left the phone in the dressing room and Vince had
let it ring for a full half hour before one of the other
dancers had come out to tell Tiffany. He was extremely
angry when she did answer. She'd done her best to
apologize, explaining that there was no way to carry the
phone while she was lapdancing, but he'd refused to
listen. "When I want a whore, I want her now," he'd
explained. "I don't want her in half an hour. That's no
good." Tiffany had begged him to meet her anyway; she'd
already gotten horny just from talking to him. But he'd
refused. "No, I've already got someone else here sucking
me off," he'd told her. "You lost your chance. Now, the
next time I call you'd better answer right away or I'm
not going to call you again. Understand, bitch?" Tiffany
had agreed, crying as she did.
She had never let the phone out of her sight after that.
She kept it on the nightstand while she slept, and even
took it into the bathroom with her when she showered.
She wore it on a belt under her skirt at cheerleading
practice, setting it to vibrate rather than ring. He'd
called her once at practice, and she'd been forced to
fake a bathroom emergency so she could answer the phone.
Faking a sprained ankle had gotten her out of practice
quickly so she could meet Vince at his home and get her
pussy plowed.
Turning away from Katrina, trying to get as much privacy
from her stepdaughter as she could in the tiny dressing
room they were sharing, Tiffany flipped open the phone
and brought it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Where are you?" Vince, of course.
"Ummm... at the Northbridge Mall." Tiffany was confused.
Normally Vince just gave instructions without asking
questions.
"Hmmm... Okay, what are you wearing?"
"Ummm... well..." She looked at herself in the mirror.
She'd been trying on an outfit. "Ummm... sort of a pink
top... r-real small, and a black skirt, and... and some
shoes," she finished, looking down at the five-inch long
spiked heels.
There was a chuckle at the other end of the line. "You
mean slut wear?"
"Y-yeah," she responded, feeling her heart beat faster
at the word "slut".
"Perfect," he replied, chuckling again. "Fix up your
hair and makeup and meet me at the Ashton Street
entrance in ten minutes."
"Okay," she whispered just as Vince hung up. She turned
to look at herself in the dressing room mirror. The
sheer pink top clung to her upper body, displaying the
round globes of her tits. Hot pink fuzz lined the low
scoop neckline and the lower edge of the top, which
barely covered the bottoms of her boobs. The skirt was a
tight black patent-leather number with an ostentatious
silver zipper on one hip. The heels matched the top in
shockingly bright pink, and walking on their five-inch
spikes was a skill Tiffany had only recently mastered.
The outfit was fine, but her makeup and hair certainly
weren't. She'd come to the mall dressed casually, in a
crop-top T-shirt and denim cutoffs, her blond hair
pulled back into in a ponytail. That simply wouldn't do
for Vince. She pulled the band off the ponytail,
allowing her hair to fall to her shoulders. With only
ten minutes to work before she had to meet Vince, there
would be no time to style it properly. She began pulling
it apart, teasing her soft blond hair to increase its
volume. She continued working with one hand while she
rummaged in her purse with another. She wouldn't have
time to do a full makeup job, either, so she'd have to
stick to the basics. Eyeliner first.
"Tiff?"
She almost jumped at the sound of her stepdaughter's
voice. She'd been so preoccupied with taking care of her
appearance for Vince that she'd forgotten Katrina was in
the dressing room with her. "Oh... uh, honey, I just
found out I have to meet a friend in a few minutes. Do
you mind going home by yourself?" She continued to put
on makeup, applying a little blush to her cheeks.
"Uh... no, Tiff. That's fine." Katrina responded in a
tone that was somewhere between shock and suspicion.
Tiffany didn't have time to deal with that right now,
though. She continued to fuss with her hair, teasing it
into a wild mane while her free hand rummaged through
her purse for the right shade of lipstick. "So... uh..."
Katrina stammered, "are you going to meet your friend
dressed like that?"
"Well,,, I... um... I don't have time to change, honey.
Besides, we're going out. Say, could you take the
clothes I wore over here and get them home for me?" She
found a tube of hot pink lipstick that matched the
blouse and began applying it.
"Uh... yeah, sure, Tiff..." Katrina said
disbelieveingly.
"Thanks, honey," Tiffany said. "I owe you one. Oh, and
would you mind not telling your father about our little
shopping trip. I mean, you can tell him we went
shopping, just don't tell him where, okay? I don't want
him to worry over anything. Just tell him I had to meet
some friends and I'll be back late."
"S-sure, but I don't see why..." Katrina began.
"Look, he's your father. Do you think he'd like the idea
of you running around in that?" She gestured at the
black leather tube top Katrina was wearing. Katrina
looked down, then shook her head. "So," Tiffany
continued," let's just let this be a little secret
between the girls, okay?" She grinned. "A little secret
between sluts."
"Okay!" Katrina agreed, suddenly smiling. Tiffany was
pleased. The girl seemed to have a positive attitude
toward sluthood. Now if only she could be convinced to
give her little brother a shot...
But she had barely five minutes to meet Vince. She
looked back at the mirror. Her lips glistened pink in
the overhead lights and her wild hair looked like a
golden halo around her head. Best of all, her pussy was
wet and ready to get filled. "Okay, I gotta go, honey.
Here's the keys to the car." She handed them to Katrina.
"Oh, and here's some money to pay for the clothes." She
gave Katrina a wad of bills -- the money she'd earned
fucking Vince, she recalled, her pussy clenching -- and
hurried out of the dressing room, throwing her purse
over one shoulder. She was vaguely aware of all the
heads turning to watch as she strode quickly through the
mall to the Ashton Street entrance. She would have
preferred to walk around the mall on the outside, where
there were fewer people, but she didn't want to keep
Vince waiting.
Katrina gnawed nervously at her lower lip as she parked
the car. She looked at the pile of bags in the passenger
seat. They contained the clothes she and Tiffany had
picked out at the boutique. Several hundred dollars
worth. She was excited about the idea of showing them
off to Alex, getting him hard until he threw her onto
the floor and fucked her.
But at the same time she was nervous. Did Tiffany
suspect that she and Alex were fucking? Did Tiffany know
that she loved nothing more than the idea of being a
slut for her little brother? Katrina didn't see how it
was possible for her stepmother to be aware of that, but
her comments in the dressing room at the mall had seemed
so... pointed.
Alex would know what to do. She just had to tell Alex
and he would take care of things. As long as she was a
good little whore, Alex would take care of her. She
picked up the bags and hurried into the house.
Alex smiled as he put the finishing touches on another
picture. This one featured Katrina dressed in a
skintight leather suit, her hands cupping her generous
tits as she gave the camera a smoky gaze. This one would
be part of the next set of subliminal images. All of
these featured pictures of Katrina wearing various
slutty outfits -- mesh bodysuits, see-through blouses,
super-short skirts and the like. The text messages that
went with them were things like "I love to look like the
whore I am," and "I want to dress like a slut so
everyone knows I'm an easy fuck."
The current set seemed to be working quite well. Alex
had designed them to ensure that Katrina would do
whatever he told her, immediately and without question.
"A good whore does what her little brother tells her."
"I must not displease my little brother." These messages
didn't really create any new behavior; he was simply
trying to ensure that she wouldn't hesitate to do what
he told her from now on. He had some interesting
ideas...
"Alex?" he heard Katrina ask from the doorway.
He turned in the chair to look at her. Despite himself,
he felt his jaw fall open. Over the last few months,
he'd watched as Katrina had gradually relaxed her dress
code, wearing skirts that stopped shorter, tops that
scooped lower, and heels that rose higher. But through
it all, she'd still maintained a sort of respectability.
This... this was different. What stood in front of him
now was not the girl he'd grown up with, nor the woman
who'd stripped her clothes off for his camera. The
vision in front of him was the distillation of all his
sexual fantasies, an angel of pure lust. From the swells
of her breasts above the jet-black leather tube top to
the curves or her calves as they disappeared into the
black spiked heels, she seemed to have been designed for
one purpose: to excite and satisfy his cock.
"D-do you like it?" she asked, biting her glistening lip
nervously. Her lips were painted a fiery red, matching
her luxurious hair.
"Oh, yeah, sis," Alex replied breathlessly. "God, you
look like a slut." Alex grinned as she closed her eyes
and moaned at his words. It was so easy to manipulate
the bitch. "Jesus, you look like the easiest fuck in
town," he continued, watching as she leaned against the
doorframe to support herself, her knees buckling as she
whimpered in pleasure. "Everyone's going to know what a
sex-starved tramp you are if you go out dressed like
that. Now get over here and blow me, you little
cock-hungry slut."
Katrina stumbled toward him, sinking to her knees
between his spread legs. Alex twirled his fingers
through her hair as he watched her eagerly unzip his
pants and fish out his rigid cock. "That's it. Good
little bitch," he murmured as she took him between her
ruby-red lips and began to pump her hair up and down. He
could tell she was getting aroused just from the
contact. God, she was hot! He leaned back, savoring the
feel of his gorgeous slut-sister's lips on his prick.
The computer! It was still on, a doctored picture of
Katrina displayed on the monitor with the matching text
message below it. "I want to dress like a slut so
everyone knows I'm an easy fuck." It was only luck that
Katrina hadn't looked at the monitor yet. In her current
state of supercharged fuck-lust she might not even
notice, but it wasn't smart to run the risk.
Still... Alex read the message again. "I want to dress
like a slut so everyone knows I'm an easy fuck." He
hadn't actually worked this set into the lineup yet, and
it was already obsolete. Katrina had dressed like this
on her own. So what was he going to do next? He looked
down at the gorgeous bitch sucking him off and an idea
occurred to him. Well, why not?
He deleted the text message and typed a new one. "I love
to sneak into Alex's room in the morning and wake him up
by sucking his cock until he comes in my mouth." Alex
smiled as he switched off the monitor and leaned back in
his chair.
Moments later, his young body shook as his cock exploded
into Katrina's mouth. She swallowed his load eagerly,
looking up at him with adoring eyes as she did so. "What
a magnificent bitch you are, sis," he whispered. Her
eyes closed and her body shuddered. She was coming.
At last, his cock softened and Katrina let him out of
her mouth, planting one final kiss on the purple head.
She was silent for a few seconds before speaking.
"Alex?"
"What is it, slut?" he replied lazily.
"Tiff... Tiffany has b-been saying some strange things."
She seemed upset.
"Like what?"
"Like... how she thinks I should dress up for you... to
get you to fuck me.
"Really? When did she say that?"
"Today, at... at the mall. When we were buying these,"
she said, running one hand along the leather tube top.
This was odd. "Tiffany took you out to buy this stuff?"
"Y-yeah. She was telling me how I should try to dress
like a slut, and helping me pick out clothes."
Alex thought about this. He'd noticed some odd behavior
from Tiffany over the last few months, but this went
beyond anything he'd seen. Actively encouraging her own
stepdaughter to dress like a slut and seduce her
brother? Maybe her marriage to Greg was going sour. It
had never been much of a marriage to begin with, of
course; Greg thought of Tiffany as a trophy and a sexy
young plaything and Tiffany thought of Greg as a source
of money and social status. But perhaps things were even
worse.
"Alex," Katrina asked, looking up from between his legs,
"this isn't going to ch-change anything, is it? I
m-mean, I'm still going to be your slut, right?"
Alex grinned. "Of course, sis. You'll always be my
little bitch-slut." He reached down to squeeze one of
her ripe tits through the leather top, causing her to
squeal excitedly. "Now get on your back, whore. I want
to fuck that juicy little snatch!" Katrina complied
eagerly, laying back and spreading her sleek legs. Alex
pushed up the red miniskirt to find the bitch already
wet. She mewled with pleasure as he drove forcefully
into her tight pussy.
Two hours later, Katrina could barely walk out of the
room.
Vince grinned as he saw his blonde slut standing right
in front of the entrance. Apparently she'd learned her
lesson about being late. He took a better look as he
pulled up next to her. The pink top, the black skirt,
the wild hair -- damn, she looked hot. There was no
doubt, he thought as she opened up the passenger-side
door of his car, that this bitch was born to be a whore.
She settled into the seat next to him and closed the
door. Vince pulled away, navigating through the parking
lot to the freeway ramp. "Damn, you look hot, babe," he
exclaimed as he stole a sidelong glance at her.
"Thanks, Vince," she said in that shy little voice of
hers. Vince loved that voice. Not the hardened, cynical
voice of a whore, but the soft voice of a woman who
still wasn't quite sure what she was doing. "D-do you
want me to blow you?" she asked timidly.
Vince chuckled. He usually took a blowjob while he drove
her somewhere. "No, not this time, honey-tits. I need
you fresh when we get there."
"O-okay," she replied. The uncertainty again. Vince felt
his cock stirring at the thought. He toyed with the idea
of pulling the car over and fucking her right there. But
he couldn't do that. Not today. Time was short enough as
it was.
The trip passed in silence as Vince navigated the
freeway to a residential neighborhood on the edge of
town. He stole occasional sidelong glances at his newest
bitch, and she pulled out a mirror a few times to touch
up her makeup or adjust her hair. Damn, she was a fine
slut.
It wasn't long before they arrived. Vince stopped the
car on the street in front of a large, expensive-looking
house. Light from a few windows pierced the evening
darkness. Vince shut down the engine and opened the
glove compartment. He pulled out a small package wrapped
in brown paper and handed it to Tiffany, who took it,
her eyes questioning.
"You're to deliver this package to Mr. Barrett, in that
house right there. He's a good customer, so you don't
have to press him for the money. He'll give it to you
before he leaves. After he takes the package, he may
want you to entertain him. In fact, he almost certainly
will. You do whatever he wants. He's not into kinky
stuff, so don't worry about that." Her eyes grew wide as
he spoke. Shit, what was the matter with this bitch?
He continued on. "Now, you're a high-class whore, so if
he asks for a price, you tell him that I said your mouth
costs two hundred dollars and your pussy costs three
hundred. After he's done he'll give you the money for
the package and for the fuck, and then you come back to
the car, okay?"
Her mouth opened, but it was several seconds before she
could speak. "But... I... Vince, I... I... I can't d-do
that," she exclaimed in shock.
What the hell was this? Did she want to be a whore or
not? Vince spoke angrily to her. "Listen up, honey. You
told me you wanted to be my bitch. Well, this is what my
bitches do. They deliver my product and they fuck and
blow my customers." She shrunk away from him as he
pointed a finger at her. "Now, you've been playing the
eager little slut ever since I met you, always happy to
do whatever I want just as long as you get my cock in
your pussy. All the time you kept telling me how much
you wanted to be my whore.
"Well, don't you dare go frigid on me now, bitch. This
is it. You're a whore, and I'm your pimp. Your job is to
fuck who I tell you, when I tell you. And I'm telling
you to go into that house and fuck Mr. Barrett. Do you
understand?"
She sat there, trembling, for a full five seconds before
slowly nodding. "Y-yes, Vince."
"Good," he replied. "And one more thing. You act like
you enjoy it. If I hear even one word from Mr. Barrett
about how the new girl didn't do what he wanted, or
didn't seem to be enjoying it, I'll toss you out and
find someone better. Am I making myself clear, slut?"
"Y-yeah," she stammered, biting her lip and looking away
from him.
"Good. Now fix yourself up and get up there."
She seemed to settle down a bit as she used the
sun-visor mirror to touch up her lipstick and hair. When
she was done, she took the package, opened the door, and
stepped out.
It wasn't until she'd closed the door that Vince
realized he'd been holding his breath. He'd been worried
about the consequences of talking to her like that, but
he had no choice. With a slut like that, you had to let
her know who was the boss.
Tiffany struggled to stay calm as she closed the door
and strode up the stone walkway to the front door of the
house. Her mind raced as she struggled to come to grips
with what was going on.
The whole idea of being a whore had never been quite
real to her. Sure, she came running whenever Vince
called, no matter what time of day or where she was. But
that was just... well, it was just that she found him so
irresistibly sexy. And sure, she let him call her a
whore and a slut and a bitch, but that was part of the
fun. It got her so fucking horny to be talked to that
way, to be treated like a tramp. Dressing like a slut...
well, that was just for fun. A joke, almost. A very sexy
joke, but still a joke. And so what if she took money
from him each time they fucked? That was... that...
well, it was just part of the play-acting, wasn't it?
Part of the weird, screwed up fantasy she had of being a
whore for her little brother.
Except that now it wasn't a fantasy anymore. Now she was
walking up to a strange man's door carrying a box filled
with God-knew-what, dressed like a street-corner hooker.
If anyone who knew her saw her like this, they probably
wouldn't even be able to recognize her.
She reached the front door and froze, terrified. Could
she really do this? Could she really fuck a complete
stranger? If she rang the doorbell, she was a whore. It
was that simple. She turned to look back at the car. She
could only vaguely make out its shape in the dim light,
and she couldn't see inside at all, but she knew Vince
was watching her.
She... she couldn't displease Vince. Vince, her little
brother. I am my little brother's whore. I must not
displease my little brother. The sentences came into her
mind unbidden, almost as though someone was speaking to
her. And instantly, she knew they were true. She
couldn't displease Vince. Not because she was afraid,
but because... because it was just wrong for her to do
anything that would make her little brother unhappy. A
good whore does what her little brother tells her. Yes,
that was it. Of course. She turned back to the door and
rang the bell.
Nervous seconds later, the door opened, revealing a
portly, middle-aged man with thinning brown hair. He
looked her up and down, a smile coming slowly to his
round face. Tiffany found herself unable to speak as she
watched him appraise her like a piece of meat. "Well,"
he chuckled, "you must be Vince's newest acquisition.
And quite a hot little piece of ass you are, too." He
stepped aside, waving her in.
Tiffany stumbled on the step as she walked in, but
quickly righted herself. The inside of the house was
quite nicely furnished, but lacked any real personality.
It was clear that Barrett lived here alone. "Well,
sweetcakes," Barrett said, sliding one hand across her
ass as he walked around to face her, "you have something
for me?"
Tiffany struggled to find her voice. "V-Vince says my
mouth c-costs two hundred and my p-pussy costs three
hundred."
Barrett laughed out loud. "Getting a little bit ahead of
things, aren't you, babe?" he asked. Tiffany didn't know
what he was talking about. "I meant the package," he
said, pointing to the box in her right hand.
The package. Right. Her face reddening with
embarrassment, Tiffany handed him the box. He took it
eagerly. "Come on into the living room while I check it
out," he said, walking through a wide doorway into the
spacious living room. He motioned Tiffany to a seat on
the plush leather couch, which she nervously took, and
sat himself down right next to her. He opened the
package on the coffee table, revealing a number of
plastic bags containing a white powder.
"Mmmm, looks good," he enthused, opening one bag to take
a sniff of the contents. Tiffany blanched as she
realized what she had just delivered. Her suspicions
were confirmed when Barrett opened a small box on the
table and removed a mirror, a razor blade, and a small
metal tube. He tapped a small amount of powder onto the
mirror, used the blade to push it into a straight line,
and finally snorted it up through the tube. Cocaine.
Jesus Christ, Vince was a drug dealer. "Oh, yeah, that's
good stuff," Barrett murmured as he wiped his nose. "You
want some, honey?"
Tiffany did her best not to show the disgust she was
feeling. "N-no thanks, Mr. Barrett."
He looked at her as though she were crazy. "You sure?
It's pure shit. Most of you whores love it."
"No, r-really, that's okay, Mr. Barrett."
He shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself. Why don't you get
started blowing me while I do another line?" he said
casually, spreading his legs apart to provide access to
his crotch.
"O-okay, Mr. Barrett," she stuttered, sliding off the
couch and positioning herself on her knees in front of
him. She brought her hands up to unbuckle his belt and
pull open his fly. She pulled down his slacks, allowing
his member to spring free. She hesitated, but only for a
minute, before wrapping her lips around it and sucking
on it.
She heard him snort again, followed by a groan of
pleasure as she began using her tongue on the underside
of his cock. She struggled to remember everything Vince
had taught her about giving a blowjob. She pumped her
head up and down vigorously as she sucked, eliciting a
series of moans from Barrett. "God damn, that's good,"
he exclaimed, one hand coming to rest on her head. "Best
two hundred dollars I ever spent."
Two hundred dollars. That was what her mouth was costing
him. She was earning two hundred dollars for Vince by
sucking this guy off. Two hundred dollars for her little
brother. Because she was his whore. Tiffany felt her
pussy grow damp as she pumped faster on Barrett's shaft.
"Oh, God, oh God!" he moaned. "Stop... stop..." he said,
pushing her head back off his cock. Tiffany looked up,
confused. "Gotta have your pussy, babe. If this is a two
hundred dollar mouth, I gotta get my prick into that
three hundred dollar pussy. On your back, on the couch,"
he growled.
Tiffany complied, pulling herself up onto the couch and
reclining. Wasting no time, Barrett pushed the tight
black skirt up her legs, bunching it up around her waist
and exposing her moist pussy. "No panties," he grinned.
Gripping one of her upthrust legs with each hand, he
pulled her wide open and slid his shaft inside.
Tiffany mewled in pleasure at his entry. She was
surprised, shocked even at how horny she was. But her
body responded on its own, her hips meeting Barrett's in
a perfect rhythm as he began to fuck her. "Shit, you've
got a sweet pussy, babe!" he exclaimed as he slammed his
cock into her.
The training Vince had given her kicked in almost
automatically. "Oh, God, your cock feels so huge inside
me, Mr. Barrett. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" she squealed.
"You got it, honey!" he growled as he slid into her once
again. "God damn, you are so fucking tight!" he
exclaimed.
Still acting on the lessons she'd learned from Vince,
she pulled the pink top up off her boobs, bunching it up
on her chest and letting her balloonlike tits bounce
free. She used her hands to fondle and knead them,
hoping to arouse Barrett even further with the display.
It worked. "Holy shit, those are the most incredible
tits I've ever seen!" he exclaimed. His eyes locked onto
them even as he continued to pound her snatch.
"Do you like them, Mr. Barrett?" she asked coyly. "Do
you like my tits?" She rolled her erect left nipple
between her thumb and forefinger, licking her lips
lasciviously.
"God, yes! They're fucking fantastic!" he exclaimed,
pistoning his cock furiously in and out of her sizzling
snatch. "Vince was r-right," he moaned, "when he s-said
you were the best slut he'd ever had!"
Vince's best slut. "Th-thank you Mr. B-Barrett," she
cried, the lust in her veins rapidly coming to a peak.
His best slut! She was Vince's best slut! She was so
excited to be able to please Vince like this. Please her
little brother!
That thought sent her over the edge, her pussy
contracting in orgasm around Barrett's thick cock, her
back arching as she continued to fondle her beautifully
big tits. "Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeee!" she screamed.
Moments later, he came as well, his cock throbbing
inside her as he shot his load deep into her tingling
pussy. Her three hundred dollar pussy. She felt so proud
to be earning money for Vince. She was his best whore
and she was determined to make him proud.
Her orgasm persisted, fogging her brain with delight as
she savored the feeling of Barrett's prick buried inside
her. The torrent of come spewing from him abated, and he
pulled his cock out, rolling off of her to kneel on the
floor. She whined softly at the vacancy in her pussy.
"Wanna fuck s'more..." she mewled plaintively.
"Please... cock..." She reached her hand out to gently
stroke Barrett's softening member.
"Not now, sugar-tits," Barrett said. He turned back to
table and began pouring out another dose of cocaine.
Frustrated, Tiffany began to stroke her still-sensitive
pussy with her fingers. She worked one finger inside,
closing her eyes as she worked on her pussy. It was a
poor substitute for a cock, but she had to get herself
off!
She heard Barrett snorting another line, but paid no
attention, moaning softly as she wiggled the finger
inside her snatch. "Well, damn," she heard him say,
"looks like you really do need another fuck. Tell you
what. Blow me until I get it back up and I'll do you
doggy-style."
Tiffany squealed with delight, clambering down off the
couch and rushing to take Barrett into her mouth. She
sucked furiously as Barrett snorted again, and it was
only a few minutes before his shaft hardened in her
mouth. The ensuing fuck was much slower than the first,
but no less satisfying for Tiffany, bent over the coffee
table, her ass high in the air as Barrett took her from
behind. She came three times before she finally felt him
shudder and empty his cock into her. This time she felt
satisfied, although she still wanted to fuck some more.
But Barrett was worn out. He retrieved a large wad of
bills and counted off two thousand three hundred
dollars, handing the wad of cash to Tiffany, who was
struggling to re-dress herself in the pink top and black
skirt. She had to let herself out; Barrett had gone
eagerly back to the coke. She felt a thin rivulet of
come drip out of her pussy and trickle down her leg as
she walked back to the car. Vince let her in and she
handed him the cash as she sat down.
"Let's see..." he muttered as he counted the bills.
Tiffany felt her body grow tense as she watched him. She
had done all right, hadn't she? "Fifteen hundred for the
package, which means you earned me... Wow, eight
hundred. Eight hundred on your first trick! You got him
to fuck you twice?" Tiffany nodded eagerly. "Damn,
you're a fine whore!" She beamed at the compliment.
"Well, a quarter of that is yours, so here you go," he
said, pressing two hundred dollars into her hand.
"You've earned it." Tiffany took the money, proud that
Vince was so pleased with her.
He started the car. "Fix up your makeup and you can suck
me off," he told her. Tiffany opened her purse and
eagerly began touching up her lipstick, already
anticipating the sweet taste of Vince's cock. She was
happy to please her little brother in any way she could.
Happy to be his whore.
Alex grunted in frustration as he struggled to move the
pieces of the puzzle. It was one of those sliding-number
games. He was usually a whiz at these, but this one
wasn't cooperating. He felt like he was on the verge of
solving it, but every time he tried to move a piece into
place it just got more confusing. And now, just to add
to his distractions, his slut of a sister had started
sucking his dick. The stupid little whore couldn't stay
away from his cock. But it felt...
Alex opened his eyes to see the ceiling of his bedroom.
The dream melted away as he savored the sensation of
soft lips sliding up and down his shaft. Katrina had
been waking him up like this for a week. Alex
congratulated himself on his own cleverness. Having a
cock-hungry slut to use as an alarm clock actually made
waking up a pleasant experience.
His cock rapidly stirred to attention. Katrina's
technique seemed different somehow this morning. More
experienced, perhaps. Alex closed his eyes and sighed as
the slut picked up the pace of her pumping. He was going
to come in record time if she kept this up. Well,
perhaps the slut deserved a little reward for her hard
work. "Okay, hands and knees, bitch," he declared. "I'm
going to come in your tight little pussy this morning."
"Silly Alex," Tiffany giggled. "I don't have time for
that."
Alex's head snapped up, looking down at his crotch. His
eyes bulged out of his face as he stared in disbelief.
The lips wrapped around his cock weren't those of his
sister; they belonged to his blonde stepmother. She was
wearing nothing but a skimpy red bra, matching lace
panties, and high heels. "Tiff... Tiffany?" Alex asked
incredulously. "Wh-what are you doing?"
"Waking you up, honey," she replied, removing her mouth
from his cock for an instant. "Now lie back and let me
finish," she admonished.
Stunned into silence, Alex fell back onto the bed. What
the hell was going on? This wasn't a dream; he'd already
woken up. Surely it wasn't possible to have a dream
about having a dream. Was it?
It felt too good to be a dream; Tiffany's cocksucking
technique was quite well-developed, and despite his
confusion and embarrassment Alex found himself quickly
approaching orgasm. He felt his crotch spasm as his cock
shot its load into his stepmother's mouth. All through
it she continued teasing him with her tongue and lips,
drawing every last bit of come out of him.
At last, he was done. His body sagged as he felt the
last of his spunk leave him. He was aware of Tiffany
rising from the bed. She looked down at him, fixing him
with a lusty gaze as she brought a finger up to wipe a
small rivulet of his come away from the corner of her
mouth. She brought the finger to her mouth, licking off
the white cream. "Good morning, Alex," she whispered
lustily.
Just then, Katrina appeared in the doorway, wearing an
outfit very similar to Tiffany's, albeit in black rather
than red. She looked at Tiffany, then at Alex, then back
at her stepmother. "Tiffany!" she yelled.
Tiffany grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, honey. You snooze,
you lose. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go fix
breakfast." She slid past the stunned redhead and out of
the room. Katrina looked back at Alex's flaccid cock,
her lower lip trembling. She looked to be on the verge
of tears. "Alex..." she whined.
"Not now, Katrina," Alex said. He had to figure out what
was going on.
"Alex..." Katrina pleaded, "Please... let me... let me
suck your cock..."
"Oh, fine, go ahead," Alex sighed, leaning back to give
her access to his cock. His cock-hungry slut of a sister
gasped in relief as she ran over to the bed. Moments
later she had taken him into her mouth and begun sucking
eagerly. Alex was only dimly aware of her efforts,
however; his mind was busy trying to understand
Tiffany's behavior.
Tiffany pulled a compact out of her purse and checked
her makeup as she rode the hotel elevator. She touched
up her lipstick and fussed with her hair a bit, making
sure she looked as sexy as possible. Satisfied, she put
away the compact and pulled the fur coat tighter around
her. This was her first job without Vince along, and she
was feeling a bit nervous.
Over the past week, she'd made at least one delivery for
Vince every single day. Just the day before, in fact,
Vince had driven her around town to make three different
deliveries in one afternoon. Every delivery, of course,
meant a fuck, sometimes more than one. After the first
few days, Vince had doubled her prices, telling her she
was the finest slut in town. She'd been so proud to hear
that. That meant she got paid a thousand dollars for a
suck and fuck. Well, actually Vince got most of that.
She was his bitch, after all. But it was enough for her
to know that her body was worth a thousand dollars.
Tonight, though, was different. There was no delivery
tonight; tonight was purely a sex job. That was fine
with Tiffany. She would do whatever Vince told her --
she wanted nothing more than to please him -- but it
really made her nervous to be delivering drugs. Tonight
she was a birthday present. Vince had already been paid;
all she had to do was go to the hotel room, fuck the
birthday boy, and leave.
The elevator reached her floor and she stepped out into
the hallway, holding the coat closed with one hand. She
found the door she wanted and knocked softly. Letting
the coat fall open to reveal the skimpy dress she wore
underneath it, she struck a sexy pose, leaning one hand
against the doorframe. This was probably the only time
in the guy's life that he'd get the chance to fuck a
thousand-dollar pussy. She wanted him to know he was in
for the time of his life.
The door opened, revealing a nervous-looking young man.
He was well-built and athletic-looking, but definitely
underage. Something about him looked vaguely familiar,
but she couldn't quite remember where from. Well, no
time for that now. She licked her upper lip and spoke in
a lusty voice. "Happy birthday, honey." She ran one hand
along her hip, caressing the thin material of the silver
dress.
"H-hi," the boy stammered. "C-come on in," he added,
stepping back out of the doorway, his eyes flicking
feverishly up and down her body.
She stepped into the luxurious hotel room. "So how old
are you, stud?" she asked, looking around at the elegant
furniture.
"Eighteen," the boy responded in a small voice. Tiffany
groaned with excitement. Like a little brother to her.
She felt the familiar clenching in her pussy as she
thought about it. Fucking her little brother. Being a
slut for her little brother. The idea got her so horny.
She turned to face him, smiling coyly. "A handsome guy
like you, you're probably pretty popular with the girls
at school, huh?"
"Uh... well..."
Tiffany ran one hand along his arm, squeezing his bicep.
"Damn, you're built." It was true; he was very muscular.
"You've got those cute young things throwing themselves
at you, don't you?"
"Well... I..."
She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the coat
open to reveal her fabulous body. "Be honest with me..."
She thrust her chest forward, emphasizing her generous
cleavage. "Am I as pretty as they are?" She ran one hand
idly over the round globe of her right tit.
The boy swallowed, trembling. "Y-yes."
She smiled. "You're so sweet. Now come here," she said
in a husky voice, running her tongue along her upper lip
for emphasis. He stepped nervously toward her, and she
pulled him down to her, kissing him lustily. Their
tongues met eagerly as she sucked hungrily on his lips.
"Oh, you hot young stud," she moaned as their lips
parted. "Tell me..." she whispered. "Have you ever
fucked a cheerleader?"
"N-no," he stammered, eyes widening.
She kissed him again, shrugging off the coat and
caressing his muscular arms. "But you want to, don't
you?" she asked. "You see them around school, wearing
those skimpy outfits..."
"Oh, God," he moaned, his eyes closing as she pulled his
body down to meet hers.
"... jumping up and down at football games, showing off
their hot little bodies. Makes you just want to throw
them on the ground and fuck them, doesn't it?"
"Y-yeah... oh, yeah," he gasped as she slid her pelvis
against his crotch.
"Well, guess what, honey?" she asked coyly. "Tonight's
your lucky night." She kissed him again. "Tonight I'm
going to be your little cheerleader."
"Oh, God," he moaned as she caressed his back.
Tiffany felt her pussy growing wet as she seduced the
boy. It was too bad she hadn't brought her cheerleading
uniform with her. Oh, well. "But I want you to promise
me something..."
"Wh-what?"
"I want you to promise me you're going to fuck me like
you want to fuck those little cheerleader bitches at
school." She smiled wickedly. "When you're fucking me
with that delicious cock..." She grabbed his crotch for
emphasis. "... I want you to imagine I'm one of those
sexy young teases at school. I want to feel like I'm one
of those stuck-up little bitches while you bang me." The
youth was gasping already as she unbuttoned his shirt.
"Can you do that for me, honey? Can you make me feel
like I'm the bratty little cheerleader, and you're the
studly captain of the football team popping my cherry?"
"O-okay"
"Oh, good, I've always wanted to get my pussy fucked by
a hot young hunk." She pulled him down to the bed,
gripping his shoulders tightly as she wrapped her legs
around his ass, grinding her crotch against his through
their clothes. The fantasy she was constructing was
getting her incredibly horny. She didn't roleplay like
this with the regular clients. The older men didn't
really spark her interest like that.
But this was different. This young man... this boy got
her incredibly horny. The idea of being a hot young high
school cheerleader getting fucked by him had her pussy
dripping with lust. In fact, there was only one thing
she wanted more...
Swiftly and certainly, Tiffany rolled the boy over,
pinning him face-up to the bed while she lay over him.
"I know," she whispered, "something even hotter. Let's
pretend I'm your sister. I'm your horny older sister."
The boy was staring at her, transfixed. "At school, I'm
the snobby cheerleader, showing my hot little body off
to all those horny boys, just being a stuck-up little
cock tease."
Tiffany slid down his body and swiftly unzipped his
pants. She was making it up as she went along, and yet
it was like she knew every word by heart. "But there's
only one cock I really want." She freed the boy's shaft
from the confines of his slacks. "I want my little
brother's cock. And when I get home from school, all I
want to do is be my little brother's slut." She stroked
the erect member with one hand, licking her lips as she
stared at it rapturously. "I'll do whatever he wants
just so I can have his cock."
Tiffany dove onto the boy's rigid member, slurping
hungrily as she pumped her head up and down. He gasped
and moaned as she swirled her tongue along the underside
of his cock. She paused after a few strokes, her lips
hanging just above the swollen purple head. "Do you like
it, little brother? Do you like it when your sexy big
sister sucks your cock?"
"Oh, God! Don't stop! Yes! Yes!"
"Tell me to suck it. Tell your sister to suck your
cock."
"Suck me, sis! Suck me!"
Tiffany obliged, taking his member into her mouth once
again. She groaned with pleasure as the boy's words
fueled her own incestuous fantasy. Never before had she
delved this far into her little-brother fetish. It felt
almost real this time.
That morning, when she'd sucked Alex off, she'd felt a
glimmer of the excitement she was feeling now. The urge
to give Alex a blowjob had hit her every morning for the
past week. Finally, she'd yielded to her desires and
done it. It had been an incredibly erotic experience. If
only Alex could be her brother rather than her stepson.
She continued to suck the boy as she felt her pussy
clenching with desire. She felt him approaching orgasm
and slipped his cock out of her mouth. Not yet. She
couldn't let him come yet.
Tiffany massaged his engorged prick gently with one
hand, stimulating him just enough to maintain his
erection. He humped desperately against her fingers.
"Oh, God..."
"Not yet, little brother," Tiffany said soothingly.
"Your big sister still wants to feel your cock up her
pussy." She rose to her knees and straddled his stomach,
pulling the flimsy dress up to expose her dripping
snatch. She positioned her tight ass against his erect
member and began softly humping up and down, massaging
his prick with the firm cheeks. The boy gasped and
moaned as she stimulated him, and Tiffany felt her
juices dripping from her pussy to pool on his tight
stomach.
Tiffany shrugged the dress's straps off her shoulders,
letting it fall to expose her boobs. She smiled as the
young man goggled at her chest. "Do you like your big
sister's tits?" she asked, massaging them. "Does your
sister have a nice rack?" She twirled her left nipple
between thumb and forefinger.
"Oh... oh, yeah," he gasped.
"Well, why don't you show your sister how much you like
her big tits?" she asked, leaning forward. She fell to
her hands, hanging one ripe melon over the boy's
quivering lips. She gasped as she felt his mouth
encircle the erect nipple, slurping and sucking at it.
"Oh... Oh, God, yes! Suck it, little brother." Bent over
as she was, his cock was now nestled against the folds
of her smoothly-shaved pussy. The youth sucked harder at
her tit as she ground her pussy against the rock-hard
shaft.
"Yeah! Suck your sister's big boobs!" she exhorted,
shifting her body so the other erect nipple was in front
of him. He took it eagerly into his mouth as she kneaded
the tit with one hand. "None of those little cheerleader
sluts are built like your big sister, are they? None of
them have tits like these, do they?"
"N-no... no, sis," he groaned around her tit. Tiffany
growled with delight and pushed her boobs harder against
his eager lips and tongue. In her mind, she really was
seducing her little brother. God, Katrina was so lucky
to have someone like Alex. If only he were her brother.
She'd almost felt like he was that morning when her lips
had been wrapped around his gorgeous cock.
She had to have it! Tiffany rolled onto her back,
pulling the breathless boy on top of her. "Your sister
needs your cock in her pussy," she breathed. "Show your
big sister what a stud you are." She spread her legs,
pulling him toward her. "Fuck me. Fuck your big sister."
The boy needed no further encouragement and promptly
sank his prick into her dripping snatch. "Oh, God!"
Tiffany gasped as she felt her pussy split open with his
penetration. "Yes! Fuck me like you want to fuck those
little cockteasing cheerleaders at school!"
"Oh... oh, yeah..." the boy gasped as he slid his shaft
in and out of her cunt.
Tiffany humped back at him, her pelvis rising to meet
his thrusts. The sensations were more intense than any
she'd ever felt before. But there was more she wanted.
"Tell your sister what a filthy slut she is!"
"You're... you're a s-slut, sis!"
"Tell her she's a whore! Call your sister a whore!"
Tiffany groaned, pinching and kneading her tits as she
ground her hips against her young lover.
"You... you whore! Slut!" he growled as he continued to
fuck her.
"Harder! Harder!" Tiffany shrieked. "Show your big
sister what it's like to have a real stud in her pussy!"
She was rewarded with an acceleration of his pace. She
grunted every time his cock slammed into her, each
thrust driving her one step closer to the powerful
orgasm she felt building within her. "Tell me... ugh!
Tell me... ohhh!... I'm your bitch!"
"You're... Ugh! You're my bitch, sis!"
He had barely done more than echo her words, but it was
enough. Her body exploded in ecstasy as she screamed
incoherently through the most incredible orgasm she'd
ever experienced. Her pussy spasmed around the boy's
cock, and she was aware of his seed spurting into the
depths of her cunt. Ever the showgirl, she arched her
back and cupped her tits as the burning pleasure
consumed her body.
After what seemed an eternity of release, she collapsed
to the bed, exhausted. Sweat ran off her face into her
hair, its scent contributing to the odor of sheer animal
lust that permeated the room. Her chest heaved as she
sucked in great gasps of air. The boy, mercifully, was
able to support himself on his outstretched arms and
didn't collapse on top of her.
She lay there, panting, the young cock in her pussy
slowly softening. Her mind drifted. She'd come so close
to realizing her dream. Fucking her little brother,
blowing her little brother, being a slut for her little
brother. In her mind, she'd done it, and as a result
she'd come more powerfully than she ever had before.
"Happy birthday!" The shout came from several men at
once. Tiffany looked up and struggled to make sense of
things through the post-orgasmic haze. The walk-in
closet on the far side of the room had opened up,
revealing perhaps a dozen or so large men. Familiar men,
somehow...
"Quite a performance, there, Trent," one of the men said
enthusiastically. "You handled this sweet little filly
just as well as you handled that touchdown drive in the
state championship."
Trent... Football... Tiffany turned to look at the boy,
her mind reeling as she recognized him. The young
quarterback from the banquet! Christ, not only had she
met him before, he'd already fucked her! Surely he'd
recognized her. Had he been too shy to say anything? Too
horny? Then who were...
"After seeing his workout," another man remarked, "I
think we're going to have to recommend that the Tigers
draft him when he gets out of college." The group
laughed uproariously at that, slapping each other on the
back and exchanging high fives.
Tigers... Oh, God. Tiffany turned to scan the faces of
the group, praying that she wouldn't recognize any of
them.
"Tiffany?" asked an astonished voice.
She looked, and there he was. Strangely, the only thing
she could think of was the trickle of come she felt
dripping from between her wide-open legs.
"Holy shit!" Greg exclaimed. "That's my fucking wife!"
Chapter Six
"God damn it! How could you do this to me?" Greg
thundered. Alex heard his fist slam against something
and recoiled from the door where he'd been listening. He
replaced his ear in time to hear Tiffany sobbing
something in response. Greg continued to yell at her.
"Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? To have
everyone know that my wife is a fucking whore?"
That was typical of his father, Alex thought. His
marriage was falling apart and all he could think about
was himself. Then again, Tiffany had never been more to
Greg than a pretty face to show off to his friends and a
sex object to inflate his own ego, so his
self-centeredness now was hardly surprising.
Alex jumped as he heard another loud bang from inside
his parents' bedroom. "And everyone saw you, too. All my
friends saw you fucking that kid, knowing that you got
paid for it! I'm a goddamn laughingstock!" he bellowed.
Tiffany just continued crying. "Who is he?" Greg yelled.
"Who's your pimp, you slut? Tell me where he lives! I'll
break his fucking neck!"
"His name's Vince. I... I don't know where he lives..."
Tiffany said, almost too quietly for Alex to make out.
It was the first coherent thing he'd heard from her.
"You don't know? Doesn't he talk to you? Tell you who to
sell your ass to next? Give you your hard-earned money?
Tell me!"
"I d-don't know. He just calls me and picks me up and
t-takes me to... deliver his drugs and... and do it..."
"Jesus Christ, you stupid slut! You deal drugs, too?"
The sound of a breaking lamp came from within the room.
As quickly as he could, Alex turned and hurried down the
hall to his room. There was nothing more to learn from
listening to this, and Alex was worried about what might
happen if Greg discovered him eavesdropping.
Alex sat down at his computer and tried to think. Greg
and Tiffany had gone out separately the night before to
party with their respective friends. Alex had taken
advantage of the evening to do another photoshoot with
his sister. He'd dressed her up in the leather tube-top
and microskirt she'd bought a week ago and had her model
on the hood of Greg's luxury car. She'd performed
admirably, cupping her tits and spreading her pussy for
the camera as she writhed all over the sleek car. Alex
had rewarded her for her efforts by fucking her over the
car's hood and depositing a nice large load of semen in
her hungry twat.
Greg and Tiffany had come home together around midnight,
after Alex and an exhausted Katrina had already gone to
bed. He'd almost been asleep, but Greg's yelling had
woken him up. He'd tried to listen, but hadn't been able
to learn anything useful. All he'd been able to make out
was Greg yelling "Whore!" over and over again, Tiffany
crying, and Greg periodically hitting things.
This morning, though, he'd been woken up by more
yelling, and had taken the risk of sneaking down the
hall to eavesdrop at the master bedroom door. It sounded
as though Tiffany had actually behaved like a literal
whore, having sex with a stranger in exchange for money.
And she was being managed by some pimp who'd arranged
things so she couldn't trace him. Smart guy, it turned
out.
What had driven her to this? What had made her want to
be a whore, to take orders from someone? Granted, she'd
always been more or less a sexual ornament for Greg, but
at least that had been a conscious decision on her part.
She was a gold-digger, sure, but she'd always been in
charge of her own life.
"Alex..." He turned to see his sister standing in the
doorway, her voluptuous body barely contained by the
black lace nightie she wore. "I'm sorry... I didn't know
you were going to get up early," she said remorsefully.
Oh, right. She was here for his morning blowjob. Well,
it might help him relax. "That's okay, slut. You can
suck me now," he said casually, spreading his legs.
Katrina squealed with girlish glee, hurrying over to
kneel between his legs. Alex watched as she pulled down
his boxer shorts and began rubbing his cock. He never
got tired of watching her, proud of how well he'd
programmed her. Mere months ago she had been an arrogant
bitch to him, and now she was a well-trained sex toy.
Among other things, he enjoyed these morning blowjobs.
Yesterday, though... yesterday had been different. It
had seemed like a dream at the time, but he was quite
sure of what had happened. Tiffany, not Katrina, had
woken him up with an exquisite bit of fellatio. Alex had
been utterly shocked, and had spent most of the day
wondering why that had happened. He'd forgotten about it
when Greg and Katrina had come home fighting and not
thought about it again until just now. Why had Tiffany
done that? She certainly wasn't being programmed to.
Or was she? Alex was only dimly aware of his sister's
supple lips sliding up and down on his cock as he used
his computer to check out the last set of subliminals
he'd used on Katrina. "I love to sneak into Alex's room
in the morning and wake him up by sucking his cock until
he comes in my mouth," read the first one. Not "little
brother's cock", the language he'd used in the other
messages, but "Alex's cock". He'd gotten sloppy,
apparently. But still, Tiffany wouldn't have had a
chance to see this message, would she?
His fingers flew across the keyboard as his luscious
sister sucked his cock more and more eagerly. Alex
opened up the log for the subliminal-insertion program.
The last time the images had been used was in a block
between 9 and 10 PM the evening before. Sure, that was
the regular timeslot for Hagen's Brook. He'd let Katrina
watch it while he set up the photographic equipment in
the garage.
The next most recent entry in the log, though, was a
surprise -- 1 PM that afternoon. What the hell? Could
that be right? Apparently it was. It was Richfield High,
appearing on one of the local rinky-dink stations.
Syndication, then. And that was during the day, when
Tiffany would have been home alone. So Tiffany was
watching the teen dramas in syndication during the day.
And since Alex had configured the software to insert the
subliminals for any airing of the show, Tiffany was
getting the programming as well as Katrina.
Alex let out a whoop of delight. He didn't have all the
answers, but he'd made the breakthrough. Tiffany had
been programmed, and was still being programmed. The
excitement sent him over the edge, and his cock exploded
inside his sister's hungry mouth. "Swallow it, baby!
Swallow it!" he growled, sliding his fingers into her
fiery tresses, bucking his hips into her wet mouth. His
mind marveled at the possibilities in front of him.
As his orgasm subsided, he heard a distant thump as Greg
hit something else. His sister looked up at him, a
rivulet of his semen running down her chin from one
corner of her mouth. "Alex," she said softly, "I'm
scared."
Alex felt a deep pang of concern. He didn't want to see
Katrina so upset. Sure, she was a cock-craving slut, but
she was still his sister. "Don't worry," he reassured
her, gently caressing her soft hair. "I'll think of
something."
Tiffany groaned as she looked at herself in the mirror.
There was no denying it; she was fucking hot! She was
wearing one of her slut outfits -- a tiny pair of black
shorts that clung tightly to her crotch and a black and
white zebra-striped halter top. Black spiked heels and
an assortment of necklaces and bracelets completed the
outfit. It was a look that had served her well as a
stripper, and later as a prostitute.
She felt another surge of arousal as she remembered. It
had been over a week since she'd dressed like this. A
week since that night at the hotel when Greg had found
her fucking that boy. She hadn't dared wear anything
sexy since then. Greg was already angry, and Tiffany was
frightened of what he might do if he saw her dressed so
provocatively.
There had been publicity, of course. The story of the
cheerleader moonlighting as a whore had been on the
front page of all the papers. Tiffany had, of course,
been "temporarily" suspended from the cheerleading
squad. She had no doubt that the suspension would soon
become permanent. She was pretty sure Vince hadn't tried
to call her; he wouldn't want the publicity. At least,
the cel phone hadn't rung.
And now, with the kids at school and Greg out getting
drunk with his friends, she had her first opportunity in
a week to dress up in her finest slut-wear. It had also
been a whole week since she'd gotten fucked. She didn't
know how much longer she could go without a good
fucking. She didn't want to see Vince again -- she was
leery of re-exposing herself to the drug trade -- but
she still wanted to be a whore. A slut. She needed a man
to take orders from. A younger man. A boy, even. She
reached down to stroke her pussy through the shorts.
She heard the front door slam. That would be Alex, home
from school. Her pussy clenched as she thought abut him.
She'd found herself fantasizing about him a lot lately.
He was only nine years younger than she was. They could
have been brother and sister, couldn't they? If only it
had been that way. She wanted nothing more than to mount
his shaft and ride it until he came inside her.
It was wrong, she knew. She shouldn't be thinking about
her stepson that way. But she couldn't help it. She
remembered how delicious his cock had tasted a week ago
when she'd snuck into his room and sucked him off. To
have it in her pussy...
She heard Alex going to his room. Well, damn it, how
long was she expected to go without getting fucked? She
needed cock, and Alex was here. Greg hadn't even wanted
to fuck her recently, so it was hardly her fault. She
had no choice but to go and give Alex the ride of his
life. After taking one last look in the mirror to fix
her hair and check her makeup, she strode confidently
down the hall to Alex's room.
Alex squinted at the computer monitor as he fiddled with
the mouse. He was putting the finishing touches on the
next batch of subliminal images and messages. He was
entering unexplored territory with this new batch.
After he'd figured out that Tiffany was watching
Richfield High in daytime syndication, he'd started
programming her separately from Katrina. It had required
a trivial modification of the image-insertion software
he'd written, but the bulk of the work had been in
producing a second set of subliminals for Tiffany.
By re-examining the subliminals he'd used in programming
Katrina, Alex had been able to make a pretty good guess
as to how Tiffany had interpreted the programming. Most
of the images and messages had been aimed at making the
target into a sex toy for her little brother. In
Katrina's case that had, of course, been Alex. Tiffany,
though, had no little brother. As a result, Alex
suspected that she'd latched onto this Vince character
as a substitute. He wasn't sure how she'd met him,
though. Professional cheerleaders didn't usually come
into contact with pimps, as far as Alex knew.
"Alex?" The timid voice came from the doorway. He turned
and there she was. Alex's jaw dropped. It was one thing
to know that his stepmother was a whore. It was another
thing entirely to see her dressed up like one. Alex felt
his cock rapidly stiffening at the sight of the stunning
blonde in the doorway. "I... I was wondering if there
was anything I could do for you," she murmured.
Alex could think of a million things she could do for
him. The programming had clearly taken. She was his,
body and soul, just like his sister. He wanted her to
suck his cock. He wanted to lick her tits. And of
course, he wanted to fuck her tight little pussy.
But for a moment, his curiosity outweighed his libido.
"Tell me where you met Vince," he demanded. She
hesitated, biting her lip and looking away from him. "I
said tell me, bitch!"
For a brief moment, her eyes closed and her body shook.
Alex grinned. "I... I met him at a club," she said
nervously.
"What kind of club?"
"A s-strip club," she stammered.
"Ah, I see." And he did see. He'd programmed Katrina
with an exhibitionist streak and used that to get her to
pose nude for his camera. Tiffany had gotten the same
programming, but without anyone offering to make her a
porn model, she'd been forced to find another outlet for
her desires. Interesting... and potentially quite fun.
Alex turned back to his computer for a moment and pulled
up a music player. "So you're a little stripper-slut,
aren't you?" he asked.
She gasped at being called a slut. "Y-yeah."
"Well, then, strip for me, you little tramp." He hit a
button and the speakers next to his computer came to
life. The song was the latest Chrissy Knight tune --
total crap, admittedly, but Alex kept it around because
the strong beat and the overt sexuality made it good
jacking-off music. Or in this case, good stripping
music.
Tiffany seemed to respond almost automatically, her hips
swaying sultrily to the music. Alex watched in
fascination as her hands slid up and down her sleek
body, pausing here and there to cup her round tits or
rub her pussy through the thin fabric of the tiny
shorts. She seemed almost to become part of the music.
Alex grinned as she blew him kisses and licked her shiny
red lips. His cock was already straining against his
jeans.
It had taken him months and months to turn his sister
into his own personal sex toy. It had taken barely a
week to do the same to his stepmother. Of course, he
hadn't been starting from scratch with Tiffany. She'd
already been programmed into sluthood; she'd simply been
without a natural master. Once Alex had realized she was
available, it had been simplicity itself to retrain her
to serve him. "Alex is my little brother," the message
had read.
Tiffany had slid the shorts down her sleek legs and
discarded them on the floor, and was shaking her tight,
round ass at him. Alex found himself more aroused than
he'd been in a long time. Tiffany was a lousy
stepmother, but Alex couldn't deny that she was a
fabulous stripper.
Tiffany sat down on Alex's lap, smiling lustily at him
over her shoulder as she unzipped the front of her top.
She felt her pussy clenching as she continued to sway to
the teenybopper music. God, she was so horny. Alex was
her little brother. She no longer felt like she was
pretending. He was her little brother, and she was going
to fill herself up with his wonderful cock.
Tiffany reached behind her, wrapping each of her hands
around one of Alex's and pulling them forward to place
his hands on her pneumatic tits. She gasped as he
rewarded her with a quick squeeze. She ground her ass
against his knees, feeling the heat rising in her
snatch.
Tiffany removed his hands from her melons, putting them
in his lap behind her. Then, with a practiced flair, she
lifted one leg and swung it over his head as she
swiveled her body to face him. She was thrilled to see
the stunned look on Alex's face. She'd wowed dozens of
customers with that move, but none of them meant as much
to her as her dear little brother.
Letting the music driver her, she wiggled her boobs in
Alex's face, licking her lips as she did so. Alex took
the proffered snack, licking first one nipple, then the
other. Tiffany experienced a minor orgasm, partially
from the physical stimulation but mostly from sheer
pleasure that Alex liked her tits.
Unable to restrain herself, Tiffany reached down to
unzip Alex's jeans. Still wiggling to the pulsing music,
she pulled down his boxer shorts, allowing his
magnificent cock to spring free. Tiffany gazed at it in
fascination, reaching down tentatively to stroke the
thick shaft. She'd sucked on it a week earlier, but it
hadn't looked quite so... beautiful... then.
The music ended, and Tiffany looked up at Alex. She
needed his cock. She needed it desperately. He was
smirking at her. He knew how desperate she was. She just
looked at him, silently begging. At last, he spoke. "Go
ahead. Take a ride, slut."
Panting with lust, Tiffany wasted no time lifting her
ass and positioning her snatch above Alex's long, thick
cock. Quivering in anticipation, she lowered herself
onto the fleshy shaft, shuddering as she felt her
insides split open by the meaty phallus.
A surge of ecstasy shot up her spine as she impaled
herself. Tiffany felt more full than ever before. Alex's
dick wasn't the biggest she had ever been fucked with,
though it was close. But somehow, Alex's cock seemed to
fit better than any she had ever felt. It was as though
her pussy had been designed to sheath this wonderful
cock, every curve of her cunt fitting snugly against
Alex's manhood.
Slowly but surely, she began to hump her ass up and
down, sliding her pussy up and down her little brother's
prick. The skills Vince had taught her kicked in almost
automatically. "Oh, fuck... yeah... fuck me... huge
cock... feels so good... pussy..." Her panted words were
partly the result of her training as a whore, and partly
the result of the pure fuck-lust coursing through her
body. Tiffany noted triumphantly that Alex's eyes had
closed and his mouth gaped wide open. He'd be ready to
come soon, ready to shoot his creamy load into her eager
snatch.
She grinned. It was time to show him what this pussy was
capable of.
Alex groaned as the sexy blonde rode his cock. This was
simply incredible! He'd never thought anything could
feel this good. Katrina was a pleasure to fuck, there
was no doubt about that. But Tiffany was something else.
It was obvious that Tiffany was a professional. She
lacked the youthful exuberance of Katrina, but her
experience made up for it. There was no wasted effort;
her every motion seemed calculated to drive him closer
and closer to orgasm. He'd been proud of turning Katrina
into a slut, but now he realized the truth. Katrina was
still a girl playing at being a slut. Tiffany was the
real thing -- a creature who cared only about cock.
Suddenly, he felt something new. The walls of Tiffany's
cunt began to alternately tighten and relax, squeezing
his cock with a regular rhythm. "Oh... god..." Alex
groaned, his mind reeling with the sensations coming
through his cock. He would never have even though
something like this was possible.
"Oh... yeah..." Tiffany moaned, "cock... so big...
fuck... pussy..." A steady torrent of profanity issued
from her mouth in a soft, gasping voice. She was
obviously enjoying herself, but the words seemed
calculated to arouse him. And arouse him they did; the
bitch had clearly learned a lot from her career as a
whore.
The massaging action of Tiffany's tight snatch drove him
quickly to orgasm. She could apparently sense it too;
the stream of lewdness grew louder and faster as the
pressure built inside his balls. "Oh, yeah, fuck fuck
fuck, big cock, tight pussy, fuck fuck fuck!" His hands
gripped the blond stripper's thighs as he felt his prick
explode inside her.
Tiffany was coming, too, her cunt spasming around his
throbbing member. Alex struggled for breath as he shot
his load into the slut's snatch, her muscles squeezing
him tightly, sucking every last drop of jizz from his
balls. Never in his life had he imagined an orgasm like
this one.
When it ended at last, Alex slumped back into his seat,
exhausted. Tiffany still sat astride him, the globes of
her tits heaving as she panted. Her body was covered
with a sheen of sweat, and her hair had fallen in a
tangled mass partially covering her face. Alex reached
up to idly caress one of her nipples. Even in her
freshly-fucked state, she moaned at the touch. What a
fantastic bitch, Alex thought. He was lucky the
programming had worked out the way it did.
The next piece of programming, he knew, was also going
to require quite a bit of luck.
Greg Young lowered himself once again into the recliner,
popping open his third beer of the afternoon as he
returned his attention to the game. It was only the
beginning of the second quarter, and the Tigers were
already down by two touchdowns. They'd just gotten the
ball back, but Greg swore as he watched the first-down
pass attempt fall incomplete.
The TV cut to a shot of the cheerleaders on the
sidelines. Sluts, Greg thought. He felt the anger rising
within him as he remembered the night two weeks ago when
he'd discovered the truth about Tiffany. She'd told him
she loved him and pretended all along to be a devoted
wife, but in truth she'd been a whore.
His lips curled in a sneer as he watched the
cheerleaders jumping and kicking, waving their pompoms.
Sluts, no doubt. Any one of them would probably spread
her legs if the price was right. That, he realized, was
what he wanted. Fuck marriage. He didn't need a wife. I
just need a few good sluts, he thought.
The action resumed as the Tigers tried a running play on
second down. The play began smoothly, but the running
back was met at the line of scrimmage by an opposing
linebacker, who hit him like a freight train and laid
him out flat on the ground. I used to do that, Greg
thought. Whenever some uppity running back had tried to
run into his turf and steal yards from him, Greg made
sure to teach him a lesson. Back in his glory days, no
one stole from Greg Young.
But that was what that damn pimp had done, wasn't it?
What was his name? Vince. Yeah, that was it. Vince had
stolen from him. Vince had stolen his goddamn wife from
him. Greg shook with rage as he thought about it. That
bastard had taken Tiffany from him and turned her into
his whore. His slut. Damnit, Tiffany was Greg's slut!
And what was Vince doing now? Probably getting laid.
Vince probably had it all. Vince had money. Vince had
power. And most importantly, Vince had plenty of hot
pussy whenever he wanted it. It wasn't fair. Greg had
worked hard, and what did he have? He had no job; the
network had fired him when the news had broken that his
wife was a whore. He had no respect; he'd become a
laughingstock in the community. And to top it all off,
he wasn't getting any pussy. It wasn't fair. I deserve
better. Greg thought. Better than that cretin Vince,
certainly.
The Tigers tried another running play on third down,
this one a sweep around the right side. The running back
got a good five yards of penetration into the backfield
before getting hit by the same linebacker. The hit
knocked the ball loose, and the linebacker stumbled
after it, scooping it off the ground. Greg groaned in
frustration as he ran into the end zone, but he couldn't
help but admire the guy. That was the way the world
ought to work. If someone showed you disrespect, you
should just beat him up.
And take his stuff.
Tiffany sighed as she picked up the black mesh bodysuit.
She didn't know Katrina had one of these. She held it
up, inspecting the thin, soft fabric. The bodysuit had a
filmy translucency to it; it certainly would leave the
wearer's body fully visible. Good. This meant that
Katrina was buying slutty clothes on her own. Tiffany
was glad that her little sister knew the importance of
showing off that hot body of hers.
Well, okay, technically Katrina wasn't her sister, just
like technically Alex wasn't her brother. But it was
just so easy to think of her that way. After all,
Katrina was only six years younger than her. It made a
lot more sense for Katrina to be her sister than her
daughter. Besides, Katrina was almost a grown woman. She
needed a big sister more than she needed a mother.
I need to teach Katrina how to fuck. It was true. She'd
come to realize over the last week that Katrina needed
guidance if she was going to become a good slut. Tiffany
had a duty to be the big sister that Katrina needed, to
show her how to please a man.
Tiffany finished folding the laundry, pleased to find an
almost complete lack of female underwear. Good. Another
thing Katrina had learned well -- underwear just gets in
the way. Tiffany herself wasn't wearing any. All she had
on was a tight pair of cutoff jeans -- she just loved
the way they hugged her pussy -- and a short-sleeved
pink shirt tied off under her tits, leaving her tan
tummy bare. If Alex wanted to fuck her, there wouldn't
be any silly underwear to deal with.
The thought of getting fucked by Alex sent a shiver of
delight down her spine. The past week had been the most
sexually fulfilling time of her life. Alex had taken her
daily, shoving that massive cock into her mouth or her
pussy -- Tiffany really didn't care which; she came
either way just from the pleasure of servicing her
little brother. And she loved the way he treated her;
always telling her what a good whore she was. She truly
was her little brother's slut, and she'd never been
happier.
Picking up the basket full of folded laundry, Tiffany
headed down the hall. She walked quietly past the living
room, stopping only long enough to make sure that Greg
was still watching the game. As long as he was still in
front of the TV she didn't have to worry about what he
might do. Greg had never hit her, even when he'd flown
into screaming fits of rage. But it seemed that every
time his anger was a little more intense, and more
things got broken. She was afraid of him. They no longer
slept together; Greg spent every night on the couch in
the den.
Trying not to think about Greg, Tiffany headed on down
the hall to Katrina's room. Thankfully, her high heels
were quiet on the carpeted floor, so Greg hadn't been
aware of her presence. Katrina's door was open, so
Tiffany carried the basket in without pausing. What she
saw inside certainly made her pause, however.
Katrina was there, crouched on hands and knees on the
bed. Her clothes--a frilly white skirt and a skimpy
peasant-girl blouse--lay on the floor. Katrina herself
was naked but for a pair of white heels. Her brother lay
under her, his pants unzipped while Katrina pumped her
head up and down on his cock.
They hadn't noticed her yet; Katrina was facing away
from the door, and Alex's eyes were closed. Tiffany
watched for a moment as Katrina's head pumped quickly up
and down on her brother's shaft. The teenager's fiery
red hair flew wildly about as she sucked her brother's
member with wild abandon.
"Oh, Katrina..." Tiffany said sympathetically.
Katrina sat up in alarm, her brother's cock popping free
of her mouth. "Tiffany!" Alex looked merely surprised,
but Katrina seemed to be in a state of panic.
"Oh, honey, please," Tiffany said soothingly. "Really,
I'm happy for you. It's great that you're doing this."
Katrina's panic changed to confusion. "Wh-what?"
"Oh, Katrina, really, I don't want to embarrass you.
It's just... well, you're doing it all wrong." Katrina
just stared at her blankly. "Oh, stay there. Let me show
you," Tiffany said, setting the laundry basket down on
the dresser and closing the door. She walked over to the
bed, kneeling beside it and placing her head next to
Alex's cock.
"Now you can't just treat a cock like a popsicle. You
have to caress it. Let it out of your mouth every once
in awhile and just lick it. Tickle it a bit. Here's a
good spot," Tiffany said, pointing to the spot where the
purple head met the underside of the shaft. "Like this."
She extended her tongue and ran it lightly across the
base of the helmet, eliciting a groan from Alex. "Try
it."
Cautiously, Katrina stuck her tongue out and licked the
spot Tiffany had just shown her. Alex groaned again, his
hips shifting a bit. "That's it, sweetie," Tiffany
encouraged. "Now run your tongue all the way around the
base of the head... yeah, that's it. Now a couple of
strokes up the length of the shaft. Make sure you hit
that sweet spot I showed you!" Alex was gasping for air
as Katrina followed her instructions.
"Okay, now hold back for a minute, honey; we don't want
him to blow his wad just yet." Katrina backed off,
looking to Tiffany for further instruction. "Now, if you
want to cool him down a bit, just play with his balls
for awhile. But remember, they're tender, so you have to
be gentle with them. Watch." Tiffany used her tongue to
tickle the nearest of Alex's testicles, her tongue
lightly brushing the wrinkled surface. She looked up to
be sure Katrina was paying attention before gently
taking the entire thing into her mouth. After a moment
of gentle sucking, she let it go. "Now you try it, baby.
Hold his cock while you do it, and remember to be
gentle."
Hesitantly, Katrina followed Tiffany's example, ticking
Alex's nuts with her tongue before taking one between
her deep red lips. "Yeah, that's a good girl," Tiffany
encouraged. "Now do the other one." Katrina switched,
leaving Alex's scrotum covered with her saliva. "Okay,
if you think you're such a hot slut," Tiffany said
impishly, "let's see you do both at once!" Katrina
struggled to take both nuts into her mouth. Alex's eyes
were wide open and glued to his cock as his sister
spread her mouth wide, finally engulfing his entire
scrotum.
"Wow!" Tiffany gushed, genuinely amazed. She was rarely
able to do that herself, and certainly not to someone as
well-hung as Alex. "Okay, tickle him a little with your
tongue and then let him go." Alex spent a few seconds
gasping and moaning before Katrina released him from her
mouth. Katrina looked up at Tiffany expectantly, one
hand encircling the base of Alex's cock.
"Okay, I think it's time to get him shoot his load with
a little sucking. But it's important to get this right.
You need to go slow and deep. Take him as far in as you
can and then let him out slowly. And suck hard on the
upstroke, too. Watch." Tiffany leaned forward, wrapping
her lips around Alex's member. She lowered her head
until his pubic hair brushed her nose before withdrawing
slowly, sucking as she did. After one more stroke to
demonstrate the technique, she let him go.
"See? Okay, now go ahead and suck him off, honey."
Katrina complied, following Tiffany's example. "That's
it, sweetie, suck him good," she encouraged, noting with
approval the concavity of Katrina's cheeks as she slowly
withdrew her head from Alex's cock. "Slowly, slowly...
good... Okay, now keep doing that but start sliding your
tongue back and forth on the underside while you do
that." Alex grunted, his back arching as Katrina
continued to suck him. Tiffany quickly shed her clothes
as she watched the horny teenagers.
"Now honey, this is a visual thing for him as well.
Nothing gets a man hotter than seeing those lips of
yours sliding up and down his shaft. So make sure to
keep your hair out of the way. Just sweep it all over
one shoulder, like... there you go, that's a good girl.
And make sure to tickle that sweet spot whenever you
can," Tiffany added. Alex's groans grew louder as he
thrashed on the bed.
Tiffany placed a finger at the base of Alex's cock,
feeling for the telltale throbbing. Sure enough, there
it was. "Okay, honey, he's going to blow his wad soon.
Just keep going, and when you feel him about to come,
stop what you're doing and take it all in." She leaned
in to whisper a final piece of advice in the redhead's
ear.
Sure enough, Alex came a few moments later, his hips
bucking, ramming his cock into Katrina's mouth. Katrina
held on, though, her lips remaining fixed on her
brother's shaft throughout his orgasm. "Good girl, good
girl, he's almost done..." Tiffany said encouragingly.
When at last Alex had finished coming, Tiffany climbed
up onto the bed, kneeling beside Alex's midsection.
"Now, let him go... that's it..." Katrina let Alex out
of her mouth, rising to her knees. "Oops, you let some
get away, honey!" Tiffany exclaimed as a strand of jism
dribbled out of the corner of Katrina's mouth. She'd
done it on purpose, of course; that was what the last
whispered instruction had been. Men loved to see their
spunk dribbling out the corner of a whore's mouth, as
though she'd been trying to swallow but just couldn't
keep up.
Speaking of things men loved to see... "Here, let me
take care of that, sweetie," Tiffany cooed, leaning over
to take Katrina by the shoulders. Slowly, Tiffany
extended her tongue to lick the stray come off her
sister's chin. The taste was delicious. She traced the
sperm's path upward until her tongue brushed Katrina's
lush lips.
I want Alex to see me kiss my sister.
Katrina was trembling, her eyes locked on Tiffany's.
Slowly, Tiffany brushed her lips against the redhead's.
Then both women opened their mouths and tasted each
other with abandon, their tongues snaking between their
locked lips. Tiffany was surprised at how much this
aroused her; she'd never been interested in other women
before. But... well, Alex was watching. She couldn't
tell if she was responding to Katrina or to the fact
that Alex was watching.
They continued to kiss for a few minutes, Tiffany
savoring the taste of Alex's come in her sister's mouth.
Tiffany ran her hands over Katrina's nubile body,
cupping her firm tits and stroking her lush hair.
Tiffany gasped as she felt Katrina's hands on her own
nipples.
At last they broke for air. After looking into each
other's eyes for a few seconds, they both looked down at
Alex's cock, which had once again begun to stiffen.
"Well," Tiffany said wickedly, "now that I've shown you
how to use your mouth, let me teach you a thing or two
about what your pussy is for."
Spreading her knees wide, Tiffany reached for Katrina's
hand. "Half of being a good fuck is in the muscles. Now,
stick a couple fingers up my pussy, honey. Go ahead,"
Tiffany urged. Somewhat hesitantly, Katrina complied.
Tiffany did her best to ignore the stimulation Katrina's
fingers were providing in her cunt. "Okay," Tiffany said
as she began to rhythmically flex the muscles of her
pussy, "do you feel that, sweetie?"
"Yeah," Katrina replied, her voice small.
Tiffany took her sister's free hand and placed it flat
against her lower abdomen so she could feel the muscles
flexing inside. "You see? It's all in the muscles. Now
you try it. Go ahead and mount Alex's cock, baby. There
you go, that's a good girl..." Tiffany said soothingly
as Katrina gently impaled herself on the now-rigid
shaft. "Now flex your muscles just like I showed you,
honey." Tiffany felt Katrina's stomach, offering
pointers as Alex began to groan.
"That's it... a little slower, honey. Make it
sensual..." Katrina was learning remarkably quickly. She
was going to be a very talented slut. "All right, baby,
let's start pumping now, but make sure you keep your
muscles working. Flex those legs... there we go. Good
girl," Tiffany praised as Katrina began to hump up and
down on Alex's cock. "I think you're getting the hang of
it, honey." Alex was once again thrashing in pleasure on
the bed.
"Now honey, the half that isn't in the muscles is in the
mind," Tiffany said. "I want you to just concentrate on
your pussy for now, but pay attention to what I'm saying
because you're going to have to learn this, too."
Tiffany leaned forward, speaking in a throaty whisper.
"Oh, God, you're so fucking hung, Alex. Look at that
huge cock crammed into that tight little pussy. The poor
little bitch doesn't stand a chance against a cock like
that."
"Look what you're doing to her, Alex. She's such a
cock-hungry little slut. She's already swallowed that
massive load you shot down her throat. I could taste
your sweet jizz in her mouth. And now she's back for
more. You can see how fucking horny she is. She loves to
feel that thick cock of yours."
"Just look at her. She's like a bitch in heat. The poor
little slut needs your come, and she's going to keep
humping and humping until she gets it. The little whore
wants your jizz. She wants to feel your cock blast that
sweet jizz right up her tight little pussy. Fuck her.
Fuck her! Fuck her!" Tiffany exhorted, her cries
becoming more intense as Alex's groans grew louder.
Alex came at last, his body shuddering. Katrina orgasmed
simultaneously, shrieking in ecstasy as her back arched.
Tiffany smiled as she watched her sister come. Katrina's
orgasm was uncontrolled, without any real art to it.
That was something else she would have to learn, how to
channel and control her own orgasm to maximize Alex's
pleasure. But she could learn the fine points later.
She'd performed well so far, and the slut deserved her
reward. Tiffany leaned over the joined crotches of her
siblings, extending her tongue to lick up the milky
white fluid leaking from Katrina's still-spasming pussy.
When at last Alex's orgasm subsided, Tiffany rose to her
knees, planting a soft kiss on her sister's lips. "Good
girl," she said. "I'm so proud of you, honey." They
kissed again, deeply. Tiffany felt Katrina probing her
mouth eagerly, no doubt desperate to taste Alex's come,
just as Tiffany herself had been a few minutes earlier.
At long last their lips parted. Katrina heaved herself
off Alex's cock, falling exhausted to the bed. Tiffany
stifled a frown. Katrina had to learn that pleasing a
man didn't end after he'd come. But there was time for
that, too; ample time for Tiffany to finish training her
sister. In fact... Tiffany looked at Alex's semi-erect
cock.
"Okay, that was fantastic, sweetie, but there's more to
it than that," Tiffany said, swinging one leg over
Alex's body to straddle his torso. "Now watch me,
honey." Alex was staring at her disbelieveingly. She
flashed him a sultry smile as she massaged his cock with
one hand. He'd be good for one more ride; she could feel
his member stiffening in her hand. Maybe under normal
circumstances she wouldn't be trying to bring the boy to
a third orgasm, but there really would never be a better
time to demonstrate proper technique to Katrina. Tiffany
groaned as she slipped Alex's cock into her dripping
snatch. Besides, she felt like she'd go crazy if she
didn't get a good fucking.
"Now the first thing to remember, honey, is that your
hands should always be busy..."
Alex rolled out of bed the next morning feeling like
he'd been kicked in the nuts. He sorted through his
memories of the previous afternoon, trying to remember
everything the girls had done to him. After
demonstrating proper technique for Katrina by riding his
cock until he came, Tiffany had then insisted that
Katrina take another ride to show that she had learned.
And then, as if that wasn't enough, Tiffany had insisted
on riding him one more time herself, to show Katrina
what she'd done wrong. The horny little sluts had been
insatiable!
Alex limped over to his computer and pulled up the files
he'd been working on for the next batch of subliminal
messages. He opened a new text message and typed
carefully: I will not use my brother as an educational
aid.
With a grunt, Alex saved the message and stumbled down
the hall to the bathroom, wincing with each step as his
overworked cock cried out in pain. He was quite certain
that if Greg's football game hadn't ended, Tiffany would
have spent several more hours instructing Katrina. But
the only thing stronger than the girls' cock-lust was
their fear of Greg.
Everyone was afraid of Greg now. He never talked to
anyone, and his face bore a permanent scowl. For the
most part, the other family members avoided him. He
looked like a man ready to explode, and Alex knew that
Katrina and Tiffany were afraid that he would turn
violent soon.
Alex sighed as he looked in the mirror. The girls didn't
know it, but Greg would get violent soon. Alex had made
sure of it. Every sports show that had appeared on the
family TV over the last two weeks had been filled with
violence-inducing subliminal imagery. No doubt Greg
would have been a real pain in the ass with or without
the programming, but Alex was pretty sure the
subliminals had built up far more rage inside him than
would otherwise be there. It was not a matter of whether
Greg would turn violent, it was just a question of when,
and who would be in the way when it happened. Alex had
set everything up as well as he could. At this point it
was all down to luck.
Alex stepped into the shower, trying not to think about
the delicate balancing act he was trying to perform.
Tiffany stirred slowly as she became aware of the phone
ringing. Stretching languorously, she picked up the
handset. "Hello?" she yawned. There was nothing but a
dialtone. The phone continued to ring.
A realization hit her and she sat bolt upright. The cel
phone was ringing! Still nude, she dove across the room
to her purse, which was sitting on top of the dresser.
She fumbled within it until she found the small blue
phone. Trembling, she held it in her hand, watching the
lights flash as the phone continued to ring. She felt a
warmth in her pussy as she remembered how important this
phone had been to her. The tool Vince had used to summon
his best slut. She lifted her finger to turn on the
phone.
No. She couldn't answer. Alex had been very specific
about that. She had to take the phone to him. Gripping
the phone tightly, she hurried down the hall. The shower
was running. Alex would be in there.
Alex jumped as the shower curtain flew open. It was
Tiffany, nude, thrusting a cel phone at him. What the
hell? He looked at her blankly.
"It rang," she said. "You told me..."
"Oh, right, right!" Alex exclaimed. He stumbled out of
the shower, taking the phone from the confused blonde.
Pausing to wrap a towel around his waist, he ran back to
his room. This could be the chance. If he was lucky...
After a few minutes of digging around, Alex pulled a
short telephone cable out of a box of miscellaneous
junk. Fumbling, he plugged one end into the back of his
computer and the other into a slot on the cel phone.
Struggling to stay calm, Alex loaded the interrogation
program, and the computer began talking to the phone.
Alex sat back to wait while data flowed back and forth
between the computer and the phone. He'd done some
research over the last few weeks, tracking down obscure
information on cellular phone communications protocols.
It turned out that modern cellular phones, including the
one that Vince had given Tiffany, transmitted and
received a lot of extra information in the course of a
phone call. The programmers of the phones had stuck in
all this extra information transfer in order to make it
easier to debug the software. As was typical with
projects completed in a hurry, they hadn't had time to
remove all the extra data-transmission routines. The
program Alex was running was designed to pick up the
little scraps of data left behind by the debugging
routines. With any luck...
The program finished, spitting out a few lines of text.
Alex grinned as he read it. Last received call: Status:
unanswered Domain: local Time: 12 JAN 09:12:14
Originating number: 3085556943
Alex quickly ran the phone number through a
reverse-directory website, which gave him the expected
name, Vincent Stabone, and an address. Pay dirt.
Alex jotted down the name and address on a scrap of
paper before running down the hall, still wearing only
the towel. There was only one thing left to be done, and
the sooner the better. He burst into the master bedroom
without knocking, surprising Tiffany.
"Here," he said, thrusting the scrap of paper at the
still-nude blonde. "Copy this down. Quickly."
Greg groaned as he lifted himself off the couch. His
head spun as he reached out to steady himself.
Struggling to remain upright, he tried to remember what
had happened last night. He remembered going to a bar
with his few remaining friends and getting plastered.
He'd made a pass at this incredibly hot little bitch and
gotten angry when she'd shot him down. His friends had
dragged him out of the bar and somehow gotten him home,
where he assumed he'd fallen asleep on the couch, fully
clothed. And so for two full weeks in a row he hadn't
gotten any pussy.
Another shitty night out. And it looked like this was
going to be another shitty morning, which would
inevitably lengthen into another shitty day. After
finding his bearings, Greg dragged himself into the
kitchen, looking for some food. He'd finally sat down
with a bowl of cold cereal and a glass of orange juice
when he noticed the note. It was a small piece of pink
paper, folded carefully and lying on the corner of the
table. Tiffany's, no doubt. Curious, Greg picked it up
and unfolded it.
It was Tiffany's handwriting, all right -- all curves
and swirls. Greg read it once and then read it again.
Slowly, he stopped chewing. His hands shook with rage as
his growing anger burned through the hangover. Got you,
you little bastard, he thought.
His mind clear, Greg stood up and strode quickly to the
front door, pausing only to make sure his keys and
wallet were in his pocket. Maybe it wasn't going to be
such a shitty morning after all.
"Oh yeah, that's it... Good little slut," Vince groaned
as the sexy brunette sucked his cock. What was her name?
Allison? Angela? Didn't really matter. What mattered was
that she was his whore now. His first new bitch since
Tiffany.
Tiffany. Vince grimaced as he thought of her. The finest
bitch he'd ever owned, lost to sheer dumb luck. True,
renting her to that birthday party had been reckless,
especially before he'd had complete control of her. But
how the fuck could he have guessed that she'd be a
fucking cheerleader married to some ex-jock? Well, it
was all part of the past now. The fact that she hadn't
answered the phone a few hours ago was pretty much the
clincher. She wasn't coming back. Best to concentrate on
the future.
Vince grinned as he returned his attention to his new
slut. He'd picked her up a couple of weeks ago at a
strip club. She was a typical spoiled college bitch,
doing laps at the club as a way to pay for all the
expensive things that Mommy and Daddy wouldn't buy for
her. Vince knew exactly how to handle her type. He'd
played on his boyish looks, getting her to trust him
before bringing her home and getting her high. Snorting
coke provided a welcome change of pace to her dull life.
That had been a week and a half ago. He'd brought her to
the house every evening since then, giving her lessons
in how to please a customer before letting her snort a
few lines. He didn't phrase it in those terms, of
course; she had no idea that within a month she'd be
giving blowjobs to any john that asked. She thought he
was just teaching her how to please him; as far as she
knew it was just a simple drugs-for-sex transaction.
Although she tried to hide it, Vince knew she was a bit
miffed at being treated like a piece of property. The
thought made him grin. If only the bitch knew what was
in store for her.
In a couple weeks she'd be firmly addicted to Vince's
high-grade cocaine and Vince knew he'd be tiring of her
body. At that point, he'd inform her that she'd have to
start paying for her blow. She'd beg and plead, telling
him she couldn't afford it. Some of the bitches actually
tried to pay for it themselves for a few weeks before
despairing and begging him for it. Once she'd realized
how dependent she was on him, he'd make her the offer:
He'd give her all the coke she needed, and she'd let him
sell her pussy to whoever he wanted.
Vince grinned as he looked down at his cock, sliding
smoothly in and out of the slut's red-painted mouth.
This one had picked up the basics real fast. Vince never
had to remind her to put on her makeup or fix up her
hair; she'd already learned how important it was to
always look sexy. The bitch would make a fine addition
to his stable. Vince felt himself approaching orgasm.
Time to teach the slut to swallow, he thought.
Just as he felt his orgasm start to build, the doorbell
rang. "God damn it," he muttered as he pushed the
brunette off his cock. Swearing profusely, he stood and
threw on a bathrobe. "Stay here until I get back," he
instructed the slut. She nodded meekly as he strode out
of the room. Whoever this is, he thought, it'd better be
good.
"Whaddaya want?" he growled as he opened the door.
The caller was a tall, thickly-built man. A goon sent by
some crime lord? "You Vincent Stabone?" he asked. He
looked a little too clean-cut to be someone's muscle.
Besides, Vince couldn't think of anyone he'd pissed off
recently.
"Yeah. Who the fuck are you?"
He had barely finished the question when a meaty fist
slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him
and sending him sprawling to the floor. Gasping for air,
he looked up as the man walked in and closed the door
behind him. "Who..." he wheezed. "Who sent you? I'll
d-double whatever they paid you..."
The man reached down to grab him by the neck, lifting
his skinny frame off the ground like a rag doll. "I sent
myself, asshole. You stole my wife." With that, he swung
his arm around, throwing Vince into the wall.
Greg smirked happily as the little shrimp collapsed to
the floor, his face bleeding. "You won't be so pretty
when I'm through with you," he growled, picking up the
gasping Vince by the throat. Weeks of pent-up rage came
to the surface as Greg pummeled the pimp's body with his
free hand. Revenge was a wonderful thing. "You stole my
wife and made her one of your whores, you sonofabitch!"
he yelled, tossing the battered Vince to the floor
again.
"T-Tiffany?" he asked in an almost whiny tone.
"P-please, man, I didn't know she was married!" He
struggled back to his feet.
Greg walked casually over and punched him in the jaw,
spinning him around and sending him back to the ground.
"Well, that was a mistake, wasn't it?"
Vince made no move to get back up this time, merely
rolling over onto his back so he could see Greg looming
over him. "P-please... I'll give you anything...
anything..." Greg picked him up by the throat again,
pinning him against a wall.
"W-who are you?" asked a small voice from behind him.
Greg turned to look. The speaker was a girl -- a
gorgeous girl. She couldn't have been older than twenty.
Thick brown hair framed a fresh face, and the bedsheet
she was clutching in front of her could only partially
hide her voluptuous body.
One of the whores, then. Greg looked at her for a long
moment, his cock stirring in his jeans. He looked at
Vince, bleeding on the floor, and then back at the girl,
and came to a sudden decision. "Go back to the bedroom
and don't come out," he commanded the whore.
She glanced down at Vince before whispering "Okay," and
turning to hurry back down the hall. Greg watched her
go, enraptured by her tight, naked ass. Obedient whore,
he thought.
He turned back to Vince. "Do you want to live?" Vince
nodded weakly. Greg grinned. "Then you're going to give
me everything."
Greg spent the next hour squeezing everything he could
out of Vince. He forced Vince to write everything down.
Names, addresses, and phone numbers of clients,
suppliers, and whores. He forced Vince to dig up the
deed to his house and sign it over to Greg. Some of the
clients were lawyers; Greg expected he'd be able to
blackmail one of them into making things nice and legal.
Vince showed him the secret strongbox where he kept his
money and his products, and Greg memorized the
combination to the lock.
Once Greg was convinced he'd gotten all the details of
the entire operation, he'd forced Vince to start making
phone calls. With the phone in one hand and an ice pack
in the other, Vince told the suppliers that he would be
leaving town for awhile, and that his good friend Greg
was going to be overseeing his operation for a year or
so. The suppliers were the important ones; Greg knew
that he could strong-arm the customers and the bitches.
Once Greg was satisfied, he handed Vince the key to
Vince's second car, a beat-up Dodge he used occasionally
when he needed a low profile, and a thousand dollars
from the safe. "Now," he told Vince, "you're going to
drive out of town and keep going until you're out of the
state. And you are never, ever going to come back. If
you do, I'll kill you. Do you understand?"
Vince's lip was too swollen for him to speak. Defeated,
he nodded silently. Greg took him to the car, searched
it, removed the handgun from the glove compartment, and
threw Vince into the car. He tossed in a clean T-shirt
for Vince to change into; the cops might have noticed
that the one he was wearing wasn't supposed to have all
those red spots. Greg stood and watched as the former
pimp drove down the driveway and off down the street.
Satisfied, he walked back into Vince's house -- no, his
house now, and strode back to the bedroom. The girl was
waiting as instructed. Her brown eyes widened as he
stepped into the room. "W-who are you?" she asked,
shrinking away from him.
Greg grinned as he strode over to the bed. "I'm your new
boss," he told her as he unzipped his pants. His
rock-hard cock sprang free. The gorgeous brunette's eyes
grew wide as she stared at his shaft. "What's your name,
bitch?" he asked as he climbed onto the bed.
"A-Alicia," she stammered.
"And what was your arrangement with Vince?"
"H-he gave me... d-drugs and I... I..."
"You were his whore, right?"
She looked away. "Yeah," she muttered.
"Well, you're my whore now. I'll give you the shit you
need and you'll do whatever I tell you. Understand?"
"O-okay."
"Now spread your legs, bitch," Greg commanded. He felt a
thrill as the slut obeyed him. And there were a dozen
more just like her on Vince's list... Greg surged
forward, grunting powerfully as he slammed his cock into
the sexy brunette, savoring the tight feel of her wet
pussy.
It was barely a minute before he came, his pent-up
frustration exploding into the moaning whore beneath
him. He grinned in triumph as he watched his jism seep
out of her pussy around his cock. He still had a lot to
learn, he knew, but he was looking forward to his new
life.
Epilogue - Nine Months Later
Greg Young opened the front door. A lone figure stood on
the porch. "Hi, son," Greg said. "Come on in."
"Thanks, Dad," Alex replied, stepping inside. He was
dressed in slacks and a shirt. The clothing couldn't
entirely hide the changes in his body. Alex had started
to put on some muscle.
Greg felt a pang of regret at having gone so long
without seeing his son. "I've really missed you, Alex,"
he said, trying and failing to meet the boy's eyes.
"Yeah, me too, Dad." The words were simple but sincere.
Greg looked at him. Had he ever really known the boy?
"I... I'm sorry... I..." The ex-football player choked
up, unable to continue.
"It's okay, Dad." Greg felt Alex's arms around him --
small but surprisingly strong. He hugged his son back,
struggling not to cry. "It's good to see you again,
Dad."
"Yeah. You too, son." By unspoken agreement, they
released each other. "So... um... how's Tiffany?"
"She's doing good. Her... uh... her career is really
taking off," Alex replied.
That was good, Greg thought. He knew that his ex-wife
had started stripping again. With a body like hers, it
was only right that she should be showing it off and
making money from it. A pity he hadn't realized that
when they were married. But then, nobody was ever
perfect. "She's taking good care of you, right?"
Alex smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."
"And how about Katrina? You two are getting along all
right, aren't you?"
Alex's grin grew broader. "Yeah, we're fine, Dad. Don't
worry."
"All right," Greg said, ruffling his son's hair
playfully. "Come on in," he said, leading the way to the
living room.
The room was largely the way it had been when Greg had
"acquired" the house from Vince. A black leather couch
dominated one wall, flanked by a matching easy chair and
love seat. An elegant brick fireplace was built into
another wall next to a well-stocked wet bar.
The only real addition of Greg's was the big-screen TV
on the wall opposite the couch. Perhaps the only thing
that hadn't changed for Greg in the past nine months was
his love of sports. He still spent every weekend on the
couch in front of the TV, just as he always had. Of
course, these days he always had a couple of the whores
around to take care of things -- getting him beer,
fixing him a sandwich, blowing his prick, that sort of
thing. Tonight, of course, he had made sure to have a
few extras available, just in case.
The six scantily-clad young women sitting in the room
turned their heads almost in unison as Greg led his son
in. "Girls," Greg said, ushering the boy into the room,
"this is my son Alex."
As if on cue, the girls stood up and swarmed all over
the boy, cooing excitedly. Greg watched as the six
party-girls fawned over the boy. "He's so cute!" gushed
Cindy, a slender blonde wearing a shiny gold tank top
and matching bikini panties. She rested one hand lightly
on Alex's shoulder and began to softly caress, looking
at him hungrily.
"Just like his father," enthused Lisa. The top-heavy
brunette, clad in a low-cut, high-hemmed black dress,
was busy rubbing her barely-contained tits against
Alex's other arm. The expression on her face was equally
lusty.
Brandy, a statuesque, raven-haired beauty wearing a tube
top and microskirt, was standing directly in front of
the boy. "I wonder how much like him," she remarked
slyly, winking at the others as she gently brushed her
hand against Alex's crotch. The six hookers erupted in a
fit of collective giggling.
Greg smiled as he watched his finest sluts fawn over his
son. He'd told them before Alex arrived that they'd be
expected to treat Alex well and do whatever he wanted.
But he hadn't expected them to be so infatuated with the
boy. He could see it in their eyes, though. They wanted
him.
Greg didn't understand it, but he was proud nonetheless
that the bimbos found his son so hot. Alex, too, seemed
to be pleased as he looked up and down the girls' trim
bodies. No doubt the boy was trying to decide who to
fuck first. Greg looked on as the boy began reaching out
to the vixens, stroking an ass here, squeezing a tit
there. The girls giggled at his touch and flirted back,
presenting their bodies for his perusal. Greg was proud
of them, too, proud that his son found his sluts so
sexy.
Smoothly but firmly, Alex pulled his collection of
fawning females over to the couch, where he sat down.
Brandy and Cindy snuggled up on either side, while Lisa
positioned herself behind the boy and began rubbing his
shoulders. The other girls began to pout, but Greg
stepped in quickly, sending Stacy and Nikki to the bar
to fix drinks for everyone. He pulled Alicia onto his
lap as he settled into the easy chair. The brunette
purred contentedly as Greg began idly rubbing her legs
and ass.
"So is the TVBox working okay for you?" Alex asked from
the couch. Alex had his arms around the two bitches
flanking him, his hands idly caressing their breasts.
Brandy and Cindy sighed contentedly as they rubbed
Alex's legs and shoulders.
"Huh? Oh, uh... yeah, it's working fine," Greg replied,
glancing nervously over at the black VCR-like box that
sat on top of the TV. It had been a gift from Alex
several months ago. It was plugged into the TV on one
end and into the feed from the satellite dish on the
other end. According to Alex, it was supposed to work
kind of like a VCR, except without tapes.
But Greg had been totally unable to figure out how to
work the damn thing. The remote control for it featured
a bewildering array of buttons and switches with labels
like "MXP ON" and "FTCR 2". The directions that came
with the unit were written only in Japanese. He'd spent
a few hours trying to work the thing before giving up
and watching a baseball game. He'd fully intended to
take it down and put it away, but after a few hours
watching TV he'd changed his mind. After all, it was a
father's obligation to accept his son's gifts
gracefully. And the box didn't interfere with his
regular use of the TV. It just sat up there on top, the
green power light shining happily.
And really, the box had made him realize just how bad a
father he'd been to Alex. A good father, he'd realized
while watching TV, had certain responsibilities to his
son. He had a duty to make sure his son was
well-supported financially. He had a duty to respect his
son's wishes and do whatever he was asked. And, of
course, he had a duty to make sure his son got plenty of
pussy.
Greg smiled as he watched the horny sluts on the couch
fawning over his son. Cindy was gently tickling the
boy's ear with her tongue while Brandy had pulled up her
tube top to show Alex her firm, round boobs. Alex toyed
idly with an erect nipple, eliciting a moan from the
black-haired bimbo. "And the tapes? Are they working out
all right?" he asked.
"They're great! See for yourself," Greg replied,
chuckling. Shortly after the TVBox had arrived, Alex had
sent Greg a box filled with copies of an instructional
video titled "Pleasing Your Man in Bed." The note
accompanying the shipment had suggested that Greg might
want to distribute the tapes to his girls. The whole
thing had seemed a bit weird to Greg, but he'd decided
that as a father it was his duty to accept his son's
gifts gracefully. So he'd given them out to the whores.
Surprisingly, the sluts had loved the tapes. Whenever he
had a few over for an evening of fun, they'd invariably
start talking about how much they enjoyed watching the
videos, and how much fun they had practicing what they'd
learned. For the first time, it seemed that the girls
really enjoyed the sex.
And they'd apparently learned quite a lot. Greg's
customers had always been very happy with his girls, but
shortly after the tapes arrived, customer satisfaction
skyrocketed. Demand for Greg's whores had nearly
doubled, and he'd been able to raise his prices and
increase his revenue substantially. When a second box of
videotapes ("60 Minutes to Giving Better Head") arrived
from Alex a month later, the sluts had eagerly accepted
them, and shortly thereafter Greg had raised the prices
of his hookers again.
It was shortly after the third batch of videos had been
distributed that Greg began noticing another change. The
girls had slowly begin to lose interest in the drugs. At
first, Greg had been worried -- if they got to a point
where they no longer needed his supply of coke, then
he'd have no power over them, no way to keep them in
line.
But at the same time, he'd started to think that being
in the drug trade wasn't a good idea anyway. While
sitting in front of the TV, he'd start to feel guilty
about extorting his sluts that way. And he'd worry about
what would happen if the cops tracked him down.
And so Greg had sat by while every girl in his stable
had stopped snorting. Amazingly, none of them had wanted
to leave him. Their hunger for cocaine seemed to have
been replaced by a hunger for cock, and his cock in
particular. They remained faithful and obedient, happily
letting Greg sell their mouths and pussies to anyone
with the cash, and they fucked their johns with a
passion that had been missing before.
Greg had taken the opportunity to get out of the drug
trade completely. Some of his customers had grumbled,
but they still came to him when they needed an
enthusiastic girl to fuck. Greg's whores were making him
money hand over fist, and it was silly to endanger that
by exposing himself to the drug trade.
Greg's reminiscence was interrupted when he realized
that his cock was straining against his jeans. Alicia
had been grinding her tight little ass into his crotch
for several minutes now, and his body had naturally
responded. Time to do something about that. "Blow me,
babe," he ordered.
The brunette smiled at him as she slid off his lap and
came to her knees between his outstretched legs. Sweet
little Alicia. She'd been the first of his bitches, and
she was still his favorite. He rarely pimped her
anymore, preferring instead to keep her around the house
as his personal maid, cook, and sex toy. Greg watched as
she pulled his rock-hard shaft out of his pants,
brushing her thick brown hair out of the way as she
fastened her luscious red lips around it. He sighed in
pleasure as the horny slut slowly began to pump her head
up and down on his prick, her eyes shining with lust.
He looked again at Alex. By this point, Cindy and Brandy
were both nude, save for their high heels and the dangly
jewelry that tinkled merrily as they rubbed their bodies
against the boy's. Alex's pants were lying on the floor
and his legs were spread, with each girl straddling one
leg facing him. The little tramps were slowly sliding
back and forth, rubbing their exposed pussies against
him as they stroked his erect cock with their hands.
Greg was pleased to discover that his son was quite
well-hung. The girls seemed quite happy about it as
well. Lisa was still standing behind Alex, rubbing his
shoulders and chest while her pillow-like tits cradled
the back of his head, her eyes locked on his massive
member.
"Gawd, Alex, you're so big!" Brandy cooed in her sexiest
voice. "I sure would love to have that monster in my
tight little pussy," she groaned, squeezing the base of
his shaft.
"Not now, bitch," Alex said dismissively. Brandy seemed
a bit taken aback by his response, biting her lip
nervously. Greg chuckled softly at the slut's
discomfort. He was quite sure that Brandy wasn't used to
having men refuse her advances, and he was proud of his
son for reminding the strumpet of her place.
"So business is good?" Alex asked, turning to his
father.
"Pretty good," Greg replied, running his hand idly
through Alicia's hair as the whore continued to blow his
wand. "Except..." He paused. Should he really be
burdening his son with his worries?
"Except what?" Alex prompted. There was an odd tone to
his question. Almost as though the boy already knew what
was bothering his father.
"The girls are earning me plenty right now, but... Well,
there's no new blood coming in. All I've got are the
whores that Vince left me. They're great, but I'm not
getting any new ones. I'm afraid the customers are going
to get bored without some new pussy." He felt guilty
immediately. Surely he shouldn't be bother Alex with his
business problems. "Sorry, I know there's nothing you
can do about it..."
"Well, actually," Alex said as he reached between
Cindy's legs to rub her pussy, "maybe I can." He
continued on, seemingly unaware of the blonde's sharp
gasp of pleasure. "Tiffany mentioned that some of the
other strippers at her club have been asking about what
it was like to be a whore. Maybe she could feel them out
a bit, see how interested they are, and maybe send a few
of them to you?"
Greg was amazed. "Yeah... yeah, that would be great.
Even if it was only one or two, I could really use the
help. I've doubled the prices on my bitches since I took
over this operation, and I'm still having a hard time
meeting demand."
Alex grinned. "I'll see what I can do, dad."
"Thanks, son," Greg replied. More than ever, he
regretted all the years he'd spent without really
knowing his son. What a great kid Alex was. "By the way,
are you getting enough action at home? If you want to
borrow one or two of my sluts for a week or so, I
could..."
"Uh... that's.. that's okay, Dad," Alex replied
hesitantly. "I'm... um... I'm doing all right. Thanks
anyway, though."
Greg chuckled. "Silly of me to ask, I guess. You
probably have a couple of foxy cheerleaders giving you
pussy night and day, don't you?"
"Well... yeah, I guess you might say that," Alex replied
with a wry grin.
Brandy chose this moment to make another play for the
boy's cock. "Alex," she breathed in a sultry sex-kitten
voice, "have you ever fucked an eight hundred dollar
pussy?" She used one hand to spread her cunt-lips open,
displaying the wet pink flesh inside for the teenage
boy. She licked her shiny red lips for emphasis.
Brandy's snatch was the most expensive in Greg's stable,
which made her something of a prima donna.
Alex seemed nonplussed. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe
later." He turned his attention back to Cindy, his
fingers caressing her lithe body.
Greg smiled as he watched Brandy grow more agitated.
"Alex," she said urgently, "don't you want to try my
pussy? Everyone says I'm the best fuck in town."
"Not now, slut," he answered sternly.
"Please, Alex," Brandy whined. "I can make you feel so
good!" She leaned forward, her crotch humping urgently
against Alex's leg.
The boy turned to look at Greg. "Horny little slut,
isn't she?"
Greg chuckled. Alex had reduced the stuck-up bitch to
desperate pleading. Greg felt immense pride in his son.
The boy... no, the man knew how to twist a slut around
his finger and make her beg to be used. A real chip off
the old block, even if he wasn't a football player.
"Alex..." the raven-haired bimbo mewled. "Please... fuck
meeeeeee..."
"Oh, all right," Alex sighed. "If you're going to keep
whining about it, then go ahead and show me this
wonderful pussy of yours," he said, leaning back into
Lisa's plump chest. Brandy squealed with glee and
climbed onto Alex's lap. The horny bitch wasted no time
impaling herself on Alex's manhood, groaning
unintelligibly as she slid her pussy around his cock.
Greg watched as his prime-cut slut began humping up and
down his son's shaft, her hips twitching and rolling as
she did so. Alex would be experiencing the ride of his
life as the whore's well-trained muscles massaged his
massive prick. Greg noted with pride that Alex had the
presence of mind to guide Cindy's head down to his
crotch, where the blonde began to eagerly lap at Alex's
cock and Brandy's engorged clit.
Greg tore himself away from watching his son long enough
to push Alicia's mouth off his cock and reposition her
on the floor, lying on her back. Greg climbed atop her
and thrust his engorged member into her sopping wet
snatch, eliciting a cry of delight from the gorgeous
brunette. Stacy and Nikki, who until that time had been
waiting patiently on the love seat, came over and began
caressing Greg's body, occasionally licking the base of
his pistoning shaft and rubbing Alicia's erect nipples
and clit.
Fifteen minutes later, Greg shuddered and came, his cock
pumping wad after wad of jism into Alicia's hungry twat.
As was always the case with his sluts, Alicia came when
he did. The walls of her pussy tightened rhythmically
around his throbbing member, squeezing every last drop
of man-cream out of his balls. Greg rolled off of the
spent whore, and Nikki and Stacy dove in to clean up,
their tongues eagerly licking the sticky fuck-fluids
from Alicia's snatch and Greg's shaft.
Greg looked up and realized with a start that Alex
hadn't shot his load yet. Brandy was still humping
furiously, groaning in frustration as she sought to
bring Alex to orgasm. Greg was amazed; he himself had
never lasted more than five minutes inside Brandy's
exquisite pussy. The hussy looked to be on the edge of
tears as she struggled to extract the come from Alex's
cock, her chest heaving as she bucked against him.
At last, she fell on top of him, panting with
exhaustion, her crotch lying still. "I... I... I
can't..." she gasped.
"Then get off," Alex commanded. Brandy looked up at him
pleading with her eyes. "Now, bitch!" he growled. The
whore nodded, lifting herself off his cock. Alex turned
to Cindy. "Climb aboard, slut," he commanded.
The black-haired diva-slut sank to her knees in defeat
beside Alex as the slender blonde, her lips and chin
shining with love juice, positioned herself astride
Alex. Trembling, she placed her dripping wet snatch
directly above his meaty prick. With a shriek of
pleasure, she gratefully impaled herself on Alex's tool,
moaning in delight as her tight twat was stretched to
accept his manhood. As Cindy began her first upward
thrust away from Alex, her head dipped forward, the
blonde tresses hiding her face, but not the groans of a
bitch in heat.
Greg looked on, amazed. Somehow Alex had withstood a
quarter hour of Brandy's well-trained pussy. He noticed
Lisa was almost smiling as she continued to massage
Alex's shoulders and chest. The whores were all friends,
but there was always a bit of rivalry among them. Brandy
would surely catch a few catty remarks about her eight
hundred dollar pussy coming away empty. Well, it served
the stuck-up bitch right, Greg thought.
It didn't take long before Alex shot his wad inside
Cindy, causing the blonde whore to shudder with an
orgasm of her own. Greg watched proudly as Alex's spunk
dripped out of the slut's tight twat. Alex wasted no
time ordering Brandy to clean up the resulting mess. The
humbled bitch did so willingly, responding to Alex's
command without hesitation. The kid was a natural at
handling sluts.
A real chip off the old block.
"Now spread your legs a little further, Tiffany," Alex
ordered. The blonde complied, pulling her legs open with
her hands. "Tongue a little further out, Katrina...
there we go." Tiffany watched as the gorgeous redhead's
tongue extended toward her pussy. Alex's camera flashed
appreciatively. Tiffany moaned as Alex moved his camera
in for a close-up shot of Katrina licking her moist
snatch. The whole scene was getting her so fucking hot!
"Alex!" the blonde gasped. "Hurry up! I neeeed it!" She
squirmed under Katrina's curvaceous body, trying to
grind her overheated crotch against the redhead's moist
tongue.
"Stop fidgeting, slut!" Alex snapped. "You're going to
stay there until I get this shot."
"But Alllll-eeeex!" Katrina whined, "we've been doing
this for hours! I need it toooo!"
Alex lowered the camera and fixed the two girls with a
stern glare. "Listen to me. We're going to finish this
shot if I have to tie you sluts to the bed." Tiffany
gasped in pleasure as she thought about the last time
Alex had tied her up. But she fought down her
excitement. Alex was angry, and it wouldn't do to get
him angrier. A good sister always tried to keep her
little brother happy. "Now," Alex continued, "if I hear
another peep out you bitches before we get done, you're
both going to go to bed without getting any cock. Am I
making myself clear?"
Tiffany nodded silently and saw Katrina do the same.
Alex had stayed at his father's house over the weekend,
and it had been almost three days since either of them
had felt Alex's manhood inside them. Both girls' pussies
ached for the filling that only Alex could provide.
They'd tried everything they could think of over the
last two nights to satiate their cock-lust -- tongues,
fingers, and even the assortment of toys they posed with
for pictures.
Alex had come home that afternoon to find the girls
passed out on the bed, their pussies joined by a huge
double-dildo. They'd spent hours and hours grinding it
against each other, desperate to reach orgasm. Try as
they might, neither of them had been able to come. To
make matters even more frustrating, Alex had insisted on
doing a photoshoot before fucking them. The hours of
posing for the camera had worn Tiffany's nerves raw, her
cunt aching for Alex's wonderful manhood. Tiffany knew
that her sister was just as desperate for cock as she
was, and neither of them wanted to risk going another
night with a painfully empty pussy. Besides, it was the
right thing to do: good sisters always did as their
younger brother told them.
"Good," Alex said. "Now spread your legs a little
further, Tiff. There you go. Good slut. Now Katrina,
let's see a little more tongue..." The boy raised his
camera again and began snapping pictures. Tiffany tried
to relax and let her mind wander as Alex continued to
shoot. Tonight was her night off from work, and she was
looking forward to it.
Not that she didn't enjoy her work; far from it. Tiffany
was the most popular stripper in the Beaver Trap's
lineup, and she took pride in the fact that men drove in
from miles around to see her perform. Tiffany was the
club's featured entertainer, the showcase attraction,
and she worked hard to put on the sexiest performances
she could.
Of course, her success wasn't entirely due to her sultry
good looks or her energetic, sexually charged dancing.
She owed a lot of her popularity to the public-relations
work Alex had done for her. Alex had figured out that
the publicity she'd gotten in newspapers and on TV after
being exposed as a hooker could be used to her
advantage. Tiffany sighed. Alex was so much smarter than
his sisters.
Alex had set himself up as her manager and started
making phone calls to all sorts of places -- supermarket
tabloids, daytime talk-shows, porn magazines -- setting
up interviews, TV appearances, and photo shoots. The
next two months had been a whirlwind of activity as
Tiffany bounced from one appointment to the next. One
day she was being interviewed for one of the supermarket
scandal sheets, the next she was spreading her legs for
some adult magazine photographer.
In between appointments, Alex had insisted that she
watch plenty of TV to help her relax. Tiffany had been
uncertain about this at first -- she really wanted to
spend her free time getting fucked by Alex -- but she
had complied with his wishes. After all, a good sister
always did what her little brother told her. And it
really had relaxed her. She had been amazed at how
comfortable she felt through the whole process.
Everything seemed to come naturally. She was perfectly
at ease spreading her pussy and cupping her tits for the
photographers' cameras. She had no trouble discussing
how much she enjoyed stripping with a tabloid reporter.
The whole process was tiring, but in the end it paid
off. The publicity had made her the hottest sensation on
the strip-club circuit. Tiffany had nearly orgasmed on
the spot the first time she'd seen herself on the cover
of Party Girls magazine. Horny men flocked to the Beaver
Trap from miles around to see the legendary
cheerleader-turned-whore-turned-stripper.
Alex had used her popularity as leverage to strike an
exclusive deal with the Beaver Trap. Tiffany didn't know
the details; she let Alex manage the money. He was so
smart... and so sexy. All she knew was that her name was
up in lights on the Beaver Trap's marquee. Even after
all these months, she still got a thrill out of walking
on stage knowing that all those horny men were lusting
after her fabulous body, that they'd come from miles
around just for the chance to see her shake her tits and
spread her pussy. And she still orgasmed every time she
rubbed her clit against that steel pole.
Tiffany worked five nights a week. Usually, Alex would
take her and Katrina to bed around eight and spend a
couple of hours fucking them both, or letting them suck
him off. Then Tiffany would leave for work and spend the
next four or five hours performing at the Beaver Trap.
She'd come home around three, exhausted but happy, and
climb into bed with Alex and Katrina.
And then three hours later she'd wake up to find Katrina
rubbing her pussy or licking her nipples. After a few
minutes of foreplay, the two horny vixens would go about
waking Alex up, their lithe tongues caressing his
magnificent cock, bringing him to orgasm as he awoke.
Some mornings, Alex was frisky enough to give his
bitches a good-morning banging afterwards. Once Alex was
satisfied, Tiffany would make breakfast for the family
and see Alex and Katrina off to school before crawling
back into bed to sleep until noon, dreaming about the
steamy fuck-fest the three of them were going to give
her that evening.
The past weekend, of course, had been different. Alex
had spent two nights at his father's place for the first
time since the divorce. The divorce had been quite
painless; Greg had allowed Tiffany to keep the house and
custody of the kids, and had agreed to pay a rather
generous amount of alimony and child support. Or at
least that's what Alex said; Tiffany found it easier to
let Alex handle that. Numbers were just so confusing.
Tiffany thought it was just wonderful that Alex and his
father got along so well. She'd been afraid that their
first visit since the divorce would be stressful for
Alex, but he'd come home very happy and very relaxed.
And that TVBox that Alex had given his father! After
buying it, the boy had spent days in his bedroom with
the device open and electronic parts lying everywhere.
When Tiffany had asked about it, Alex explained that he
was making some special improvements to the box so that
Greg would be able to get the most out of it. What a
wonderfully generous boy he was!
"All right, sluts. One last set and then we're done."
Tiffany felt her pussy warming anew, eager for Alex's
cock. "Tiffany, you stay right where you are. Katrina,
climb on top of your sister and give her a nice big
kiss. I want to see those wet little pussies snuggled
right up next to each other." Tiffany smiled as the
gorgeous redhead positioned her voluptuous body above
Tiffany's own and leaned down to touch lips.
Tiffany melted into the kiss, sucking hungrily on
Katrina's full, pouty lips, her tongue probing the
redhead's soft mouth. Knowing that Alex was watching and
taking pictures was a huge turn-on. "That's it, you
horny little lesbo-sluts. I'm getting hard just watching
you," he said, his camera clicking furiously. Katrina
groaned into Tiffany's mouth, and the blonde felt her
own pussy clenching at her brother's words. The two
sisters always loved to fuck each other, but they found
it doubly erotic when Alex was watching. Tiffany got so
excited at the thought that they were putting on a show
for Alex's entertainment.
"Okay, you little bimbos, let's see some pink. I want
you to spread each other's pussies wide open." Growling
with lust, Tiffany stretched one arm out between
Katrina's legs, spreading the lips of her sister's
clean-shaven snatch. She whined softly as she felt
Katrina mirroring the action with her own pussy. Their
kissing became even more urgent as Alex moved the camera
in close to their exposed cunts. Tiffany's spine tingled
as she thought about all the horny men who would be
looking at those pictures.
She gasped as she heard Alex set down the camera and
unzip his pants. "All right, you horny little sluts,
that's all for today. Time for some fun. Now just stay
right there and keep those cunts wide open." Tiffany's
body grew tense as she felt Alex's hands on her hips and
the head of his cock brushing the sensitive lips of her
snatch. She was going to get to go first!
The blonde ex-cheerleader screamed in delight as Alex
gripped her hips tightly, his massive cock slamming into
her aching pussy. All the tension of the last three days
flowed away as her snatch stretched to accommodate
Alex's wonderful cock. "Oh, God!" she moaned. "Give it
to me, Alex!"
Alex grunted as he felt the blonde stripper's cunt
squeezing his rock-hard prick. Tiffany's pussy didn't
have the same tightness to it that Katrina's did, but
Tiffany's technique was still better-developed than the
redhead's. Alex slowly slid his shaft out of the moist
snatch, withdrawing himself until the purple head of his
tool was almost visible before sliding his manhood back
into Tiffany's dripping cunt. The blonde groaned in
passion as her well-trained body once again began
rhythmically squeezing his meaty shaft.
He smiled as he watched the two sexy sluts on the bed
eagerly kissing each other, their hands caressing each
other's lovely bodies. Katrina's tongue glistened with
wetness as the redhead eagerly licked her sister's
luscious tits. It was all for his benefit, of course.
The bimbos always made sure to give him a good show.
Tiffany had taught Katrina a lot of things about putting
on a performance.
And Tiffany knew a lot about performing. The blonde
stripper spent ten hours a week just practicing --
working on new dance routines and learning how to take
off new costumes in the most lust-inducing ways. Alex
had arranged to have a metal pole installed in the
basement just for Tiffany to practice with. And all the
hard work was paying off -- the sexy ex-cheerleader was
drawing record crowds to the Beaver Trap to see her
tits, ass, and pussy. The club was making money hand
over fist.
As for Tiffany, she wasn't making any money at all.
Rather, she was being paid in the form of equity in the
club. In another three months, Tiffany would own a
controlling interest in the Beaver Trap. Six months
after that, she would own the whole thing lock, stock,
and barrel. Which meant, of course, that Alex would own
it.
And what a fine day that would be! Alex had big plans
for the club. The first order of business would be to
install video monitors in all the backstage areas of the
club. The monitors would serve to help the dancers to
more fully enjoy their jobs. It was important, after
all, for employees to have a high degree of job
satisfaction. Of course, as the manager, Alex would have
to make frequent trips backstage to pump up the
employees' morale. He chuckled at the thought.
Alex was also rather impressed with the job his father
was doing managing his own business. He'd been taking a
gamble by sending Greg after Vince, but it had paid off
handsomely. Greg was making a bundle, enough to support
Alex and the girls through alimony and child-support
payments while Tiffany earned a share of the Beaver
Trap.
It had also been risky to try to get Greg's whores off
of the drugs. Two of them had been so addicted that
going cold turkey had almost killed them. Greg had given
them each several thousand dollars and cut them free so
they could get professional treatment. Alex hadn't
micromanaged that; it had come about naturally as a
result of Greg's programmed compassion for his bitches.
It was a shame to lose them, but Alex knew that both he
and his father slept easier at night than they otherwise
would have.
And anyway, the sluts Greg still owned had turned out to
be fantastically good lays. Alex had had a thoroughly
enjoyable weekend, taking the opportunity to sample the
skills of each of the six bitches on hand. Six talented
mouths, six exquisite pussies. Alex loved Tiffany and
Katrina dearly, and thoroughly enjoyed fucking their
brains out regularly, but the weekend at his father's
had taught him the pleasure of variety. He was already
looking forward to his next visit with Greg. Of course,
he already had another plan in motion to acquire some
fresh playthings. The new scheme had meant delaying
Katrina's debut as a stripper, but Alex felt it was
worth that.
Tiffany was bucking and screaming now, an orgasm
crashing through her luscious body. Alex chuckled as he
felt her pussy contracting around his member. The poor
slut had been starved for cock all weekend, and she had
barely lasted five minutes on his tool.
Alex himself was nowhere near orgasm yet; he still had
to fuck Katrina, so he was pacing himself. Over the
recent months, Alex had taught himself to control his
own orgasm, staying calm and savoring the pleasure of
fucking his bitches for long periods, sometimes hours at
a time. He wasn't one of those men who never let himself
come; far from it. Alex always made sure to give his
sluts a nice load of spunk at the end of the evening as
a reward for all their hard work. But he'd found that he
preferred one big, long ejaculation to several small
ones.
That self-training, of course, had allowed him to
withstand the skilled pussy of that stuck-up slut Brandy
at his father's place the other night. Even then, it had
been a near thing, requiring all of Alex's willpower to
keep from exploding inside her. But he'd done it, and
he'd thoroughly enjoyed teaching the arrogant bitch a
lesson.
Tiffany had finished coming. Alex withdrew his cock from
her exhausted pussy, drawing a moan of pleasure from the
spent blonde. Now it was her sister's turn.
Ah. Katrina. Alex's thoughts went back to the beginning
of their relationship. He remembered how his lust for
his sexy older sister had started this whole adventure.
There would be other cock-hungry sluts, other
sex-starved bitches, other dripping-wet pussies. But
there would never be another quite like dear old
Katrina.
Alex groaned in pleasure as he slipped his rock-hard
member into his sister's dripping cunt.
Katrina screeched in passion as she felt Alex's massive
manhood stretching her tight, wet snatch. After a whole
weekend without cock, the feeling of her brother's meat
inside almost sent her into an immediate orgasm. "Fuck
me, Alex!" she screamed, grinding her pussy obscenely
against his crotch, desperate to get herself off. "Fuck
meeeee!"
"Settle down, bitch!" Alex responded sharply, slapping
her on the ass. "One more outburst like that and I'll go
back to your sister's pussy."
Katrina felt ashamed as she fought to control herself.
She'd been so horny that she'd forgotten everything that
Tiffany had taught her about pleasing a man. How selfish
she'd been to think of her own pleasure before Alex's!
She forced herself to be calm, letting Alex dictate the
pace of the fucking. A good slut takes care of her man's
needs before her own. "Oh, Alex... Your cock feels so
good..." she moaned lustily, her pussy squeezing her
brother's rock-hard shaft. Tiffany had taught her how
important it was to remind Alex what a stud he was.
Tiffany had taught her so many things in the last few
months. Like how to shave her pussy bare so it would
shine in the lights of a strip club stage. And how to
use her tongue to tickle the sensitive spots on a cock.
How to oil her tits before mashing them around a steel
pole. Exactly how to lick her lips in order to make men
cream their pants. How to take care of inch-long
fingernails and how to hold a cock without digging them
into it.
"Oh, God, yeah," the redhead moaned, twisting her head
back and forth as Alex continued to pound into her. Her
pussy was quickly heating up as the pleasure from Alex's
prick rocked her cock-hungry body. "Fuck my tight little
pussy with your big dick," she groaned. She felt
Tiffany's agile tongue on her nipple, and reached up to
cup her generous tits, making sure Alex had a good view.
"Oh, God, you're so huge!" she cooed in her best
sex-kitten voice.
Katrina was frustrated, though, that she wasn't able to
use most of her new skills. She couldn't start stripping
professionally until she turned eighteen. She wanted so
badly to go out on stage and show off her sexy body with
its tight round ass, ripe juicy tits, and soft pink
pussy. She wanted to have hundreds of men lusting after
her body, dreaming of fucking her. Katrina had begged
Alex to let her lie about her age. She knew she could
pass for eighteen. But Alex had been very firm: she'd
have to wait until she was legal. It all seemed so
unfair, but she didn't try to argue. After all, a good
sister was obedient to her little brother. So she did
what she could, practicing her moves downstairs, looking
at herself in the mirror, and putting all her energy
into the photoshoots she did with Alex. And of course
she still spent plenty of time watching TV.
"Oh, yes!" she shrieked, pumping her hips desperately
back at her brother's cock. "Fuck me, Alex! Fuck
meeeee!" No longer able to control herself, Katrina
screeched and moaned, her body thrashing madly as a
tidal wave of orgasm washed over her. Tiffany's mouth
had moved from her tits to her pussy, driving the
redheaded teenager to new heights of ecstasy as Alex
continued to pump her pulsating snatch.
Katrina mewled as she felt his shaft sliding out of her
cunt. "All right, you little sluts, you better be able
to finish what you started," Alex said as he sat down on
the edge of the bed, spreading his knees wide. "Let's
see if your mouths can do what your pussies couldn't."
The two whores raced off the bed and dropped to their
knees in front of him. Katrina leaned forward, snaking
her tongue out to gently stroke the base of Alex's
shaft. She watched patiently as Tiffany took him into
her well-trained mouth and slowly began to pump her head
up and down, her shiny red lips sliding smoothly along
the thick phallus.
"Share with your sister, now," Alex instructed. The
blonde let his shaft slide out of her mouth, a sheepish
look on her face. Katrina brought her head up, swiftly
devouring Alex's manhood. She carefully began to suck
him off, trying to remember all the little tricks
Tiffany had taught her. She brushed the long, red hair
away from her face, making sure Alex had an unobstructed
view of the blowjob. "Oh, yeah, that's it, babe," Alex
moaned. "Blow me, bitch, blow me!" Katrina loved it when
he gave her little compliments like that. She really
wanted nothing more than to please Alex and service his
cock.
In a few weeks, though, school was going to start, and
she wasn't going to be able to spend all day with him
anymore. Katrina had begged Alex to let her drop out of
school, telling him how much better a slut she could be
if she could spend all day at home practicing. But
again, Alex had been firm, insisting that she was going
to go to school and complete her senior year. And so
Katrina had accepted that she'd have to wait; after all,
a good sister did what her little brother told her.
But at least there would be some good things about it.
Katrina was looking forward to seeing her friends again.
Her gorgeous, sexy, cheerleader friends. She didn't know
why, but the thought of being in a locker room and
seeing them naked had been getting her really excited
recently. Alex had even suggested that she could have a
lot of slumber parties with her girlfriends. Staying up
all night and watching TV with all of her sexy friends
sounded like so much fun!
"Katrina," Alex said, his lightly scolding tone jerking
her back to reality. She looked up, startled, her head
frozen in mid-stroke. "Share with your sister."
Embarrassed, Katrina let Alex slide out of her mouth,
moving her head down to resume licking his balls as
Tiffany moved in to continue the blowjob.
The girls continued for another twenty minutes,
alternately sucking on Alex's cock. At last, though,
Katrina felt Alex's massive member begin to pulse in her
mouth and began to increase the tempo of her strokes. It
wasn't long before Alex bellowed in ecstasy, his hands
firmly grabbing Katrina's head. Moments later, the cock
between her lips pumped mightily, sending spurt after
spurt of thick, salty jism into her hungry mouth.
Katrina sucked eagerly on the exploding prick, savoring
the wonderful taste of Alex's man-cream.
This was what she loved more than anything else, the
sensation of Alex's come flowing into her body. She felt
so close to Alex when he came inside her, so...
sisterly. Nothing made her happier than being Alex's
slut. Not stripping, not posing for the camera. Nothing.
A good sister, she thought once again, is a slut for her
little brother.
At last, Alex's cock stopped pumping come into her
mouth, and Katrina relaxed, gently sliding the softening
prick out of her satisfied mouth. She leaned back,
looking up happily at Alex, her cheeks filled with his
spunk. She knew what was coming next, but she waited for
him to say it.
"Share with your sister, Katrina."
Katrina turned to face her gorgeous older sister. The
two girls embraced, their sexy bodies squeezing tightly
against each other for Alex's viewing enjoyment. Their
lips met softly and the girls kissed deeply, Alex's
thick jism flowing from Katrina's mouth to Tiffany's.
Katrina felt the blonde's tongue sliding into her mouth,
eagerly lapping up the milky fluid.
Katrina felt the come leaking out of their mouths,
trickling down her chin and falling onto her boobs. She
heard Alex chuckling and experienced another warm glow,
pleased that he was enjoying watching his come drip all
over his bitches' tits.
She was so happy that the three of them had grown so
close. She knew that whatever happened, Alex would take
care of her and Tiffany, keeping them safe and giving
them all the cock they needed. And together, the three
of them would face the future as one happy family.