TITLE    : My Brother's Keeper
STORYID  : my-brothers-keeper-1
SUMMARY  : His dominant sister won't take "no" for an answer!
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2007-07-04
CATEGORY : taboo-sex-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |brother|sister|sibling|dominant|incest bdsm|dildo|butt plug|submissive|slut|


Sue Todd debated with herself as to whether she should bail her younger brother Jake out of jail again. She'd already done so twice, and he didn't seem to have learned his lesson. Maybe some time behind bars, with Bernardo the Butt Bandito might teach him to behave himself--or, at least, not to be caught misbehaving. Jakes wasn't stupid. His problem was that, like most guys, he thought with his balls rather than with his brains.



That's it! she thought. She'd have to teach him to use his brains, not his balls, in deciding what to do and what not to do. It was a good thing, she thought, that, as a professional dominatrix, she had just the right stuff to enlighten him. She smiled at the idea of teaching her younger brother such a lesson. It would be fun.



"Thanks for bailing me out, Sue," Jake said as he climbed into the passenger seat of her cherry red Corvette. "I owe you."



"You already owe me," Sue reminded him. "I can't keep afford to keep bailing your ass out of jail."



"You won't have to," he assured her. "Not again, I swear."



"I've heard your promises before. They're lame."



"Not anymore."



"I'm going to make sure of that." She exited the police station's parking garage, merging with the flow of traffic on Main Street.



He snorted. "What do you have in mind, sis?"



He didn't know that his sister was a dominatrix, but he was going to find out, Sue thought. "You'll see," she said.



Jake, who had graduated from high school a couple of years ago, at sixteen, having skipped a couple of grades, lived with his :older sister," as he insisted upon referring to Sue, who had just had her twenty-first birthday. Although he had his whole adult life before him, he didn't seem to want to be an adult--or to become one--ever. As much as it pained her to think so, it appeared to Sue that he wanted nothing more than to remain a ne'er-do-well, carefree kid who lived off her largesse for the rest of his life. At first, she'd sympathized with her brother. Like her, he was an orphan. They'd lost their parents in an airplane crash when Jake was fourteen and she was seventeen.



She'd petitioned to become Jake's guardian--or "my brother's keeper," as she referred to her role privately--as an emancipated minor, and, to her surprise, the court had agreed to allow her to do so. She'd quit school, a few months before graduation, and had taken a job as a topless dancer at a local gentleman's club, telling Jake she was working as an assistant bookkeeper at an electronics supply warehouse. Dancing half naked for men she'd never met paid well, but paying the mortgage and other bills associated with running a household was expensive. For the first time, as the sole breadwinner, she'd realized just how difficult it was to keep a roof over her head--and Jake's, of course. She had a new appreciation of the sacrifices her parents had made, financially and otherwise. Not only did Sue seldom have the money for a new outfit or a meal at Falls Hills' new fast-food restaurant, Beefy Buns, that had opened between her workplace, The Gold and Silver Gentlemen's Club (named for the gold and silver, sequined G-strings the dancers wore) and Femme Fatale, the notorious clothing store that catered to the transgender crowd, but she also had no social life, unless she could count the lap dances she bestowed on the club's drunken, pawing clients for a few extra dollars.



It was while commiserating with Lola Lulu, one of her colleagues, if an exotic dancer could properly be called a "colleague," that she'd first heard of the opportunity of making "a lot of money" as a dominatrix. "You've got the looks," Lola had assured her. "The question is whether you can be assertive enough, aggressive enough."



"What do you mean?" Sue had asked.



Despite the fact that she spent most nights and weekends half naked, dancing with a pole, while drunken men leered and whistled at her, shouting obscene comments and making lewd suggestions, Sue was fairly unenlightened about the sex-for-hire world, her only experiences with sex outside The Gold and Silver having been a few backseat trysts with dates at Moonlight Drive, the local lovers' lane.



Lola had chuckled. "Girl, let me educate you," she'd said, filling her in on the whole bondage and discipline thing and the need of some men to submit to and to serve a dominant, humiliating woman.



Wide-eyed, Sue had asked, at the end of her instruction, "But why would anyone want to submit to things like that?"



Lola had laughed. Replying with a line from The Crying Game, she said, "Who knows the secrets of the human heart?" Then, she'd added, "You should think about it. You can make some serious money, and the fringe benefits of having a servant--a slave, really--both sexually and otherwise aren't bad, either."



"But I'd feel like a whore," Sue had said, before she'd realized how her statement might sound to Lola, who was a practicing dominatrix. "Oh, wait! I'm sorry! I didn't mean--"



Lola had waved her apology away. "No offense taken. Besides, you don't have to have sex with them if you don't want to. You're the one in charge."



Sue had been astonished. "Really?"



"Really."



"And they'll still pay me?"



Lola had laughed again, at her colleague's naiveté. "Oh, yes, honey. They'll pay."



Generous to a fault, Lola had even provided Sue's first client, Judge Henry Thompson--the same judge who'd remanded Jake into her custody after allowing Sue to bail him out of jail again despite having told Jake, during his last appearance before him, that there would be no bail should the young offender appear again in his court. An hour alone with Sue, in his chambers, had persuaded Judge Thompson to reverse himself and to allow bail, especially after Sue had implanted a butt plug up his ass and masturbated him while she'd explained what she had in mind for her errant brother. "Before I'm through," she'd vowed, as his honor's convulsing cock spewed semen over the wine-colored carpet, "the little bastard will wish you had thrown his sorry ass in jail."



"Yes, Mistress," the judge had replied, having no doubt that the dominatrix's words were true.



After spanking the judge's ass with the wide leather strap she carried in her purse until his buttocks matched the wine-colored carpet in his chambers and tears stood in his eyes, Sue allowed him to return to the bench and issue "his" ruling.



The thoughts in her mind, Sue turned into the driveway, pressed the remote control to activate the garage door opener, and parked her Mustang convertible inside the garage. The door descended behind her as the garage's interior lights illuminated. "Get out," she ordered her brother.



"Sis," he tried to charm her, "I'm really sorry--"



"I don't want to hear it," she snapped. "Just get inside the house!" It was high time her brother learned to be a responsible adult, and she was going to teach him just this lesson. She smiled as she envisioned the long, numerous trainings sessions in store for her kid brother. Breaking him would be arduous, perhaps, but it would also be fun.



Before she was through with him, Jake would no longer be a heterosexual. He wouldn't be a homosexual, either, or even a bisexual. He wouldn't be a transvestite, although that would be a role he'd already learned--or thought he'd learned--to play as well as he'd learned to play the role of a male, if not that of a man. He wouldn't be anything; yet, paradoxically, he'd be everything--or, more precisely, he'd play any and every role. No longer male or female himself, he'd be a pansexual, and his partners would be minerals, sex toys, insects, animals, men, women, transsexuals, groups, and anyone and anything else that Sue, with Lola's help, could think of. He'd be all things to all people (and to some partners that weren't even human). He'd give and take anything anyone wanted to provide or to receive without protest or question. Jake Todd was about to cease to exist. In his place would be reborn The World's Nastiest Slut.



"Go to your room," Sue ordered Jake, who'd, having entered the kitchen, had opened the refrigerator door and begun to chug milk directly from the carton, despite Sue's many previous requests that he use a glass.



He set the carton back onto the shelf and closed the refrigerator's door. Turning, he looked at Sue. When he saw the scowl on her beautiful face, he tried--unsuccessfully--to repress the giggle that welled up onside him. Then, he shrugged. He might as well play along, he thought, and, still giggling, walked past his sister, climbed the steps to the second floor, and entered his bedroom at the end of the hall, on the right. Sue was a step or two behind him all the way.



Opening his bedroom door, Jake paused inside the doorway. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, seeing the frilly feminine underwear laid out upon his unmade bed.



"Put them on," Sue ordered.



"No fucking way!" Jake refused.



Jake felt a stinging slap to his backside. "Do it now!" Sue commanded.



"Ouch!" her brother yelped. "What the fuck's gotten into you?"



Sue delivered another, harder slap to his buttocks. "Move your ass!"



Jake wheeled on his sister. "Don't slap me again," he warned. "I don't want to hurt you, but--"



This time, Sue slapped his face, delivering an eye-watering blow to his cheek. "Don't argue with me! Do as you're told!"



Jake staggered away from her, toward his bed. When the backs of his knees collided with the mattress, his legs buckled, and he sat down abruptly on the bed, beside the frill undergarments.



Sue stood before him, her legs planted shoulder-width apart, her hands on her lips, the scowl still clouding her lovely face. She looked sterner than Jake had ever seen her look in his life. Her glare, like her posture and her entire demeanor, told Jake that she wasn't fooling around, that she was dead serious. "Get your clothes off, and put on your bra, panties, and stockings," she told him.



"Yeah, right," Jake managed to mutter, but the stinging slap to his face, like those to his bottom, had taken much of the fight out of him, and, although he'd threatened to hurt Sue if she persisted in slapping him, there was no way he'd raise his hand to the sister who had been a surrogate mother to him since their parents' deaths, despite the nearness of their respective ages.



Sue took a step toward him, raising her hand. This time, Jake saw, the palm was not open. Her fingers were curled into a tight fist. "I'm not playing with you, Jake," she said, her voice like steel.



Jake surprised himself as he heard his capitulation. "All right, all right." What the hell? If she wanted him to wear a bra, panties, and a pair of stockings, why shouldn't he give her the satisfaction? It wasn't like wearing women's underclothes would make him a woman. Hell, in a perverse way, it might even be kind of fun. "Give me some privacy, and I'll do it."



"You'll do it, all right," Sue confirmed, "but I'm not going anywhere."



Jake snorted, half laughingly, half contemptuously. "Like I'm really getting naked in front of my--"



Sue's fist swung hard against Jake's jaw, and he flinched, his upper body jerking hard to the right by pure reflex. "My God, Sue! What the hell--"



Another blow connected with his cheek.



A third smashed into his ear.



Jake held up his hands, defending himself.



"Put the fucking lingerie on, now!" Sue ordered.



"All right, all right!" Jake cried. He was as much taken aback by the fact that his sister had struck him as he was by the pain that rose in his face from the blows she'd showered upon him. Sue had never so much as slapped him before today, so her use of her fists on him had astounded him. Unless he was willing to fight back, using his own fists against his sister, which he was unwilling to do, Sue might blacken his eye or bloody--or even break--his nose. She might sprain her wrist or break her hand on him. It was better to play along, he thought, than to fight back.



He kicked off his shoes and removed his socks. Standing, he peeled off his shirt. Aware of his sister's gaze, he unbuckled his belt, unzipped the zipper inside his fly, and lowered his jeans down his thighs, over his knees, and past his calves. Stepping out of the pants, he stood before his sister, naked but for his white cotton briefs and the monitoring anklet that the police had installed on him before releasing him into his sister's custody. He was mortified to expose the bulge of his burgeoning erection to his sister. She couldn't help but to notice the jutting organ that made a tent of the front of his underpants, but she didn't stare--or even look--at the protuberance as far as Jake could tell, and she certainly didn't speak of it.



"The briefs, too," Sue insisted.



"Sis, really, you can't mean for me to--"



Sue's fist came up.



Jake shrugged. He'd never suspected his sister harbored kinky fantasies of the sort she insisted her brother be a part, but he knew that no one ever really knew someone else or, for that matter, him- or herself. "Who knows the secrets of the human heart?" a bartender had asked in The Crying Game. Who, indeed? Jake wondered, as, placing his forefingers inside the left and right flanks of the elastic waistband, he shoved them down, sliding his underwear past his hips, and revealing his thick, stiff-standing cock and his tight, risen scrotum as he continued to lower his briefs, stepping out of them as they reached his ankles. Recovering his upright posture, he stood completely naked--completely exposed--to his sister, his rigid prick jutting out from the tight coils of his dark pubic hair. He felt sexy, being nude in front of his sister, who remained clothed, but he also felt humiliated. The conflicting emotions were strangely erotic--but they were also odd and confusing, both unsettling and arousing at the same time. Jake didn't realize it at the time, but he would be in for a lot more confusion as Sue took mastery and control of his life, transforming him into The World's Nastiest Slut.



"Don't just stand there, stupid!" Sue thundered at him as she gave a painful, hard twist to his ear. "Get into your new things."



By "new things," Jake knew, she meant the bra, panties, and stockings.



Dutifully, he picked up the bra. It was a gel-filled, padded bra, he realized, that, since it lifted and separated, would give him the appearance of having small breasts. Awkwardly, he fitted the front of the garment over his smooth, hairless chest and looped its straps over his shoulders. The gel-filled cups felt buoyant, bouncy, and strange against his chest. The back of the bra remained unfastened. He reached behind his back, fumbling at the eyehook as he tried to close the bra. His fingers seemed sausage-size, and he felt clumsy. His sister, he noticed, watched disapprovingly. What the hell did she expect? Jake asked himself. He was doing the best he could. It wasn't every day that he wore a bar, after all. He wondered why the hell he was humoring his sister by doing so, just because she'd asked him--or, rather, had ordered him--to do so. Who the hell did she think she was, anyway, to be giving him orders? For that matter, why the hell was he obeying her? 



Finally, after a few more fumbles, he managed to slip the hook through its grommet, and the bra was fastened.



"Now, the panties," Sue commanded him.



Reluctantly, he took the smooth silk underwear in hand. They were thongs, he realized, which would expose his ass. He was beginning to think maybe he should have slugged it out with his idiot sister rather than let her make a fool of him. What the hell did she think of him? Did she believe he was some sort of faggot sissy boy? A transvestite?



"I'm waiting," Sue announced, breaking in on his reveries.



Again, he shrugged. If she wanted him to wear a pair of panties, why not? There was no harm in indulging his sister's bizarre fantasy.



The panties were easier to put on. He simply stepped into the leg holes, pulled the elastic waistband up to his waist, and smoothed the lace-festooned silk around his pubes and buttocks. His erection had subsided, so there was merely a bulge at the crotch of the panties instead of the tent that would have appeared there a few minutes ago.



Sue was pleased, it seemed, with his appearance so far. "Go on," she prompted her brother. "The stockings are next."



With a sigh, Jake picked up the sheer, seamless stockings his sister had laid out for him. He couldn't believe he was going to put women's stockings on, any more than he could believe he'd donned a brassiere and a pair of frilly panties. Nevertheless, as his glowering sister watched, he began to slip into them.



Teetering on one foot, he lifted the other and started to place his it into the toe of the stocking.



"Stop!" Sue shouted. "What do you want to do, put a run in them?"



Jake said, "What should I do?"



"Sit."



Jake sat on the edge of his bed.



"Slip your thumbs inside the top of the stockings and slide them down, pushing the stocking back, against itself, until it's only about two inches wide."



Jake obeyed.



"Point your toes into the stocking until you meet resistance," she instructed him.



She watched as he did as he'd been told.



"Now, grasp the sides of the bunched-up stocking, one hand on either side."



Jake followed her directions.



"Pull the stocking up, until you meet resistance again."



He did so.



"Repeat this same process again and again until the stocking is on, all the way to the middle of your thigh."



Jake repeated the folding-pushing process until he'd fully donned the stocking.



"Do the same with the other stocking," Sue directed.



Jake repeated the procedure. In a few moments, he was wearing the stockings.



"Now, put on the garter belt," she informed him.



Jake rose, picked up the belt, and stepped into its waistband, pulling it up from the floor until it was in place around his waist. Six straps, or suspenders, dangled from the waistband, two in the back, one at each side, and two in the front.



"Now, sit down again," Sue guided him.



He sat.



"Reach behind yourself," his sister told him, "and find the rear suspenders. Attach them to the tops of the backs of the stockings, but leave some slack in the straps." After several frustrating minutes of fumbling, Jake managed to accomplish this task.



"Now, do the same with the side suspenders," Sue said.



Jake obeyed.



"Attach the front straps," his sister directed.



Jake attached the two remaining straps.



"Now, stand."



He rose.



Sue stepped forward, adjusting the straps. Then, she stood back and gazed up and down at him. Jake had do doubt that he looked absurd, but his sister gave him the wolf's whistle. "You look very feminine, Jake," she announced, a tone of approval in her voice. "But your name! 'Jake' is much too masculine for the new androgynous you."



She studied him for a long moment. "From now on, you're Joey."



Jake made a face. "Joey? That sounds Dopey. It sounds like a faggot's name."



Sue's eyes narrowed. "It's an androgynous name."



"Andro-whata?" Jake asked. "What the hell does that mean?"



"Androgynous," Sue repeated. "It means having both male and female characteristics."



"I'm all man," Jake told her.



"Not for long," Sue answered. "Not after I'm through with you." She giggled. "You're already dressing like a girl."



"This has gone far enough," Jake argued. Expecting a slap. he repressed the urge to flinch.



He needn't have feared being slapped. Instead, Sue grabbed him by his testicles and squeezed mercilessly. It felt as if she were crushing his balls in her vice-like grip. His sister, despite her petite size, was strong--much stronger than Jake had expected. Her long nails pressed hard into the tender flesh of his scrotum, adding to the pain.



"Ow!" Jake cried. "Stop! You're killing me!"



Sue dug her nails in deeper as she squeezed harder. "Who are you?" she demanded.

<hr pg="2" />"Your brother."



She clamped down harder still, her fingernails drawing blood.



"You're going to crush my balls!" Jake protested, suppressing a sob.



She released a bit of her fist's pressure, only to clench her fist again as hard as she could around her brother's testicles.



Jake screamed, as much terror as anguish in his cry.



Sue ignored him. "Who are you?" she demanded.



"Joey!" he cried. "I'm Joey!"



She relaxed the pressure around his balls. "You are Joey," she agreed. "You are neither male nor female. Say it."



Jake, who had now become Joey, repeated her words: "I am neither male nor female."



"Repeat it," Sue demanded.



"I am neither male nor female," Joey said.



"Good." Sue released her brother's scrotum. "Get on your knees," she ordered.



Joey knelt.



"Turn around," Sue commanded him. "Lean your upper body across the bed. Do it now!"



Joey faced the bed, leaning his upper body across the mattress. His buttocks, exposed by the thong panties, seemed vulnerable. He wished they were covered. It was embarrassing to have them on display before his sister. Again, he wondered why he didn't resist her. Why didn't he just tell her he wasn't going to comply with her demands? She may have bailed his ass out of jail, and she may have raised him as a surrogate mother, but neither of those acts had given her the right to do what she was doing now. He ought not to feel so squeamish about bashing her face in when she didn't seem to care how much she humiliated or bashed him.



"Don't move," Sue told him. "Don't you dare fucking move!"



Joey remained motionless. He heard her footsteps on the floorboards as she crossed his bedroom. Then, there was silence. Joey was tempted to look over his shoulder, but he was afraid his sister might be there, behind him, and, if he disobeyed her, she would--well, there was no telling what she might do, not any more. The sister Joey had thought he'd known no longer existed. She'd been replaced, if she'd ever existed at all, by this fierce, cruel, dominating bitch.



His sister's footsteps were heard again as Sue entered the room.



Abruptly, Joey felt something cool and rigid pressed into the cleavage of his bottom, and he jerked forward instinctively. However, his thighs were against the side of the mattress and it, like the bed frame, prevented him from moving. A loud slap sounded as Sue's hand smacked his ass.



"Ouch!" Joey cried.



"No one told you to move," she declared. "In fact, I told you to stay still."



"What's that you stuck between my ass cheeks?" he demanded.



Sue slapped his ass again, harder.



"Ouch! Damn it!"



"Do you want your ass to be purple?" Sue demanded as she delivered another stinging smack to his bare bottom.



"Ow! No!"



"Then keep silent! No one said you could ask any questions."



She shoved another inch of the cool, hard plastic into the furrow between his ass cheeks, and another--and another.



Suddenly, it dawned on Joey what his sister was doing. The bitch was shoving a fucking dildo up his ass!



The dildo seemed odd, though. Instead of becoming gradually thicker in diameter as it continued to penetrate his anus, the object seemed to get very noticeably--and continuously--bigger around, as if it were cone-shaped instead of cylindrical. My God! Joey thought. His sister wasn't shoving a dildo up his ass; she was heaving a butt plug through his asshole, expanding its diameter several times more than it would have been enlarged had she plunged a dildo up his backside. His suspicion that Sue was planting a butt plug instead of a dildo inside his ass was confirmed when, abruptly, he felt something pop through his asshole and into his rectum as a thinner columnar section of the device propped his anus open, the plug's firm, but pliable, plastic base settling firmly over his perineum. Joey need never wonder how a girl felt to have a cock up her ass; his sister, in impaling him upon the butt plug, had demonstrated the sensations to him. He felt full, stuffed, crammed. Oddly, the feeling of fullness was satisfying and reassuring. He found that he enjoyed having his ass be stuffed.



"You like that, bitch?" Sue demanded.



Joey swallowed the last of his pride as, humiliated, he admitted, in a hoarse whisper, "Yes."



A resounding smack of his sister's hand across his impaled backside jiggled the plug inside his anus. "You mean, 'Yes, Mistress,' don't you, bitch?" she thundered.



Joey's cock had stiffened again, but the confining silk panties prevented it from standing straight up against his belly, making him aware of its swollen, aching hardness. "Yes, Mistress," he corrected himself.



"Get up off your knees, slut!"



Joey did as he was bidden, standing, a butt plug inserted into his rectum and his cock bulging beneath the thin, silk fabric of his panties.



"Sit," Sue ordered.



He sat.



She sat close beside him. Tugging the crotch of his panties aside, she took his erection in her fist. Her palm was soft. It felt wonderful, Joey thought, against the sleek flesh of his rigid cock, as did her delicate, but strong, fingers, curled around the swollen shaft. "I'm going to masturbate you," she told him.



Joey wanted to protest. He wanted to say they'd already done things that no brother and sister should ever do. They'd committed crimes that could send them to prison. They'd performed sins that could, perhaps, send them to hell. But he said none of these things. He kept mum, knowing that no good could come from such protests. If anything, they would incur more of his sister's wrath, and he'd felt enough of her fury for one day.



"While I do, you are to say 'I am neither male nor female,' over and over again. Do you understand me?"



"Yes."



Sue squeezed her brother's balls, hard, and he yelped. "Yes, what?"



"Yes, Mistress."



"You'd do well to remember that," she cautioned him. She took his cock in her fist again, pumping the skin up and down, back and forth, upon its straining shaft. "Say it," she commanded.



"I am neither male nor female," Joey said.



"Again!"



He repeated the mantra as his sister manipulated his penis and played with his balls through the soft, silky skin of his scrotum: "I am neither male nor female. "I am neither male nor female. "I am neither male nor female."



Her hand pumped, and he chanted, "I am neither male nor female."



She stroked and kneaded his balls, and he said, "I am neither male nor female."



She jerked and jiggled his cock in the embrace of her hand, and he repeated, "I am neither male nor female."



The butt plug, trapped between the mattress on which he sat and his own buttocks, was fully seated inside his rectum, stretching his anus so that its diameter was over two inches. Its presence, both within the tight, but enlarged, circle of his asshole and within his more commodious bowels, felt comforting. As his sister continued to pound her fist up and down, driving the sleek, taut flesh back and forth upon his stiff, swollen cock, the plug jiggled and waggled, tickling his prostate and stimulating the nerves in and around his impaled anal opening. Despite his rising passion, he remembered to declare, "I am neither male nor female."



"I am your sister, and I am masturbating you," Sue told him. "What do you think about that?"



"I am neither male nor female."



"I'm committing incest with my brother. What do you think about that, bitch?"



"I am neither male nor female."



"I may decide to strap on a dildo and fuck your slut-boy's ass. What do you say to that?"



"I am neither male nor female."



"I may order you to get down on your knees and take a man's prick in your mouth," Sue informed her brother. "I may order you to suck his cock and swallow his sperm. Your reaction?"



"I am neither male nor female."



Sue had increased the pumping action of her fist, tightening and relaxing her grip to coax her brother toward orgasm, and, now, his cock straining and lurching within her fist, Joey's prick spurted fountains of thick, warm, white semen into the air, onto his stomach, and over Sue's hand and forearm. She kept masturbating him, her fist flailing so quickly that it was a blur. More of his syrupy seed launched, it thick jets, from his risen balls. His cock was like a volcano; the lava of his semen continued to erupt and pour in fast squirts and gushes. Sue's fist shook and thrust, rose and fell, even as her brother's fecundating fluid splattered her thumb and fingers, the back of her hand, and her denim-clad thighs.



When he'd finally finished shooting his load, she made Joey stand in the corner, as if ejaculating had been a prohibited, rude, and nasty offense for which he must be punished. As he stood there, the butt plug still lodged up his ass, facing the junction of the walls, he, at her command, continued to repeat, "I am neither male nor female."



At the end of the hour, she asked him, What are you, if you are neither male nor female?"



He hesitated, not knowing what to say.



The butt plug had begun to slide down, out of his ass. She seated it again, sliding it up, between his buttocks, until the conical implant was fully lodged in place once more, and said, "You are The World's Nastiest Slut; that's what you are. Say it."



"I am The World's Nastiest Slut, Mistress."



The addition of the word "Mistress," at the end of his pronouncement, had been uttered without her prompting him to do so. Sue was pleased.



Her younger brother, the former hooligan, had accepted her authority, as he had her characterization of him as The World's Nastiest Slut, and he'd repeated her declaration that he was "neither male nor female."



Now, the real training could begin. . . .

