﻿Maids

by Pan



Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2024-02-16 22:38:17
Chapters: 27
Words: 28,746
Publisher: mcstories.com
Story URL: https://mcstories.com/Maids/index.html
Author URL: https://mcstories.com/Authors/Pan.html
Summary: Alex gets revenge on his bitchy sister and her friends.
Erotica Tags: ff, ft, hm, in, mc, md, mf





TABLE OF CONTENTS


Chapter 1: The Package

Chapter 2: French Maid

Chapter 3: Help Me

Chapter 4: A Bicurious Moment

Chapter 5: Talk About It

Chapter 6: Carwash

Chapter 7: A Sex Thing

Chapter 8: Free Time

Chapter 9: Rules of the Collar

Chapter 10: Leashed

Chapter 11: New Job

Chapter 12: The Party

Chapter 13: The Party II

Chapter 14: The Party III

Chapter 15: The Party IV

Chapter 16: The Party V

Chapter 17: The Party VI

Chapter 18: Visits

Chapter 19: Meetings with the Manager

Chapter 20: Visiting Marg

Chapter 21: Motherly Concern

Chapter 22: Motherly Concern II

Chapter 23: Motherly Concern III

Chapter 24: Visiting Marg II

Chapter 26: Marg’s New Plan

Chapter 27: Waiting for Alex

Chapter 28: The Deal



	Chapter 1: The Package

“Clean your room? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Alex just smiled at his sister’s response. He hadn’t expected her to agree, but he felt better now that he’d offered.

“If you do, we’re square,” he said, giving her one last chance to accept.

“Fuck that,” she said, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder. “It’s your fault for being such a cry-baby anyway. Tell Mom I’m going around to Sasha’s.”

As Cindy flounced out of his room, Alex’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to her ass. She was wearing skin-tight jeans, and they emphasized the perfect curve of her rear.

Alex’s sister had a gorgeous body, just like all of her friends. And, like Cindy, they clearly reveled in showing off their skin—every second weekend Alex would walk outside to find the whole group sunning themselves in bikinis, an evil glint appearing in their eyes when he began stammering, unable to look away from their plentiful cleavage.

That was how they’d gotten him. Cindy’s best friend—Marg—had pretended to be attracted to him. She’d casually flirted, invited him to accompany her to the kitchen, and then when they were alone she’d turned on her smolder, and asked him to undress.

He’d been so stunned by her sudden interest that he hadn’t even hesitated. As soon as he lowered his pants, she’d burst out laughing—which had clearly been a cue for the rest of the girls to open the door and take a photo of him, standing awkwardly naked in the middle of the family kitchen.

It had been such a pointless, petty prank—and now, he’d offered his sister a chance to get even. All she needed to do was clean his room, just once, and he’d forgive her.

But she’d refused. And as he got hard at the sight of his own sister’s ass leaving his bedroom, he breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t have felt right if he’d carried out his plan without offering her an “out”—now that she’d rejected it, he could move forward without any feelings of guilt.

He was going to be seeing a lot more of that ass. And she _would_ clean his room—whether she wanted to or not.

* * *

That night, when Cindy got home, she was surprised to find a parcel on her bed. She hadn’t ordered anything, and it wasn’t her birthday for another month or two.

Tearing off the brown paper packaging and casting it aside, she found a simple black collar inside, with a two-word tag.

“Wear me.”

Cindy tilted her head to the side. Had she been paying more attention, she would have noticed the lack of postmark on the box, and had she been just a bit more suspicious then she would have considered the potential of a prank—or revenge—but she didn’t even question it, just casually slipped the collar around her neck, and jumped when it snapped itself shut.

“What the fuck?” she asked herself under her breath, and as she reached up to remove the black accessory, was shocked to find herself standing up and making her way into Alex’s room for the second time that day.

Alex was asleep when she entered, and she found herself unable to say anything that would wake him up. She couldn’t scream, or shout, and she’d somehow lost all control of her body.

It was dark in her brother’s room, but she’d been in there enough times to be able to navigate to his bed without mishap. Reaching out, she lifted up the covers and slipped beside him. Her eyes were wide with panic as her hands made their way down her brother’s sleeping body and slipped into his pajama pants.

“Alex,” she whispered. “Help me…”

Her brother didn’t respond, and Cindy couldn’t do anything but stare into the darkness as she took her brother’s flaccid penis into her hand and started slowly stroking and pulling it.

“Alex,” she repeated, horrified at the feeling of his growing erection. This time, to her relief, she got a response.

“Mmm?”

“Alex, help me. Someone sent me a collar, and…”

Cindy trailed off as a sickening thought came into her head. Alex’s response to his older sister sneaking into his room and stroking him to hardness should have been surprise and disgust, but instead…

The collar. He’d sent it.

A feeling of sick rage began to rise in Cindy, amplified by the sound of Alex’s breathing getting faster. He was going to cum, by his own sister’s hand.

“Good girl,” he murmured, as his cock jerked in Cindy’s hand, spurting cum into his own underpants. “Put those in the laundry, would you?”

“Fuck you,” Cindy whispered, trembling with rage, but to her horror, she unwillingly began to obey him. Her arms reached down and slipped his pants off. She managed to isolate his underwear and put them in the laundry.

“I don’t know how you did this, but I’m going to get you for it…”

“G’night sis,” Alex replied, and Cindy vowed that she’d wipe that smug tone from his voice if it was the last thing she ever did.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](http://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 2: French Maid

The next morning, Cindy woke up to discover that she had control of her body once more. Her hands immediately shot up to grasp the collar around her neck.

A pulse of arousal hit her, and her hands were trembling too much to unbuckle the clasp.

With a shudder, she remembered what she’d been forced to do the previous night. How was this even possible? Surely Alex wasn’t…

Surely he wasn’t attracted to her.

Cindy suddenly felt like she was going to throw up, but when she ran over to the wastepaper basket in her room and heaved, nothing came out. She began to lay down on her floor, when suddenly her body stopped obeying her impulses, and she walked over to her wardrobe.

“No,” she whispered. “No no no no…”

She was helpless to do anything but watch as her hands undressed her, neatly folding her clothes and placing them over the back of her chair. Soon, they undid her bra and slipped her panties down her long legs, leaving her standing in her room absolutely naked, praying that her mother—or brother—wouldn’t walk in. It seemed that the collar prevented her from speaking in anything but a whisper; she wouldn’t even be able to call out a warning to her mother.

To her surprise, she reached under her bed and pulled out another box. This one had images of its contents on the outside, and Cindy soon realized what was within—a French Maid outfit. She couldn’t do anything but watch as her hands unpacked it, and slowly began dressing her in the costume.

Dark stockings that ended just above the knee, and a black garter belt to hold them up. It was a two-part outfit, barely concealing more than the bikinis that Cindy and her friends loved to wear—the top was a black bra with white, frilly lace, and the bottom was a micro-skirt which barely concealed anything. Cindy watched in horror as her hands lifted out a small white headband, expertly putting it in place atop her head—and to finish the outfit, a pair of black, six-inch heels.

There were no panties in the box.

Cindy barely had time to react to her parody of an outfit before she found herself trotting out of her room, down the hallway, and knocking on Alex’s door.

“Come in,” he replied cheerfully, his smile not even faltering at the look of pure hate on Cindy’s face as she opened the door.

“What the fuck have you done to me,” she whispered, but Alex ignored her, gesturing to his desk.

“I bought you some toys,” he said, and although Cindy desperately tried to resist, she couldn’t do anything to stop herself from marching over to the desk and picking up the feather duster that Alex had left there for her.

“Have fun,” he said, putting his hands behind his head and watching as his sister bounced around his room, dusting and picking everything up.

Before long, the room was spotless. Cindy tried to shut her eyes and pray that it would all soon be over, but was surprised to discover that she couldn’t—she could blink, she could close one eye at a time, but she was unable to totally block out what was happening to her.

“Now,” Alex said, standing up and unzipping his pants. “All this cleaning has made you nice and wet, hasn’t it?”

With a gasp, Cindy realized that he was right. She hadn’t even noticed, but as she’d been cleaning, she’d been getting more and more turned on—her nipples were practically bursting out of the top she’d been forced to wear, and her pussy was dripping with arousal.

“Let’s see what we can do about that…”

Cindy froze as Alex reached out and slowly fluttered his fingers along her side. She turned to face the wall, leaning forward so that he would have total access to her perfect body, and was unable to contain a moan of pleasure as he ran his hands up and down her waist and hips.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he muttered, and she was confused to find herself blushing at the comment. This was her brother—she wasn’t supposed to care what he thought of her. No, more than that— _he_ wasn’t supposed to _think_ of her in that light, but here she was getting hot and bothered by a simple compliment from him.

What the fuck was going on?

Cindy panted as he groped her ass, and sighed with pleasure as he reached one hand between her legs to verify how wet she was. She wanted to hate it all, but she couldn’t stop her body’s reaction…suddenly her memory of last night wasn’t one of disgust and horror, but of arousal.

She’d gotten her brother off. The thought should make her sick, but now all it did was make her…hungry.

Hungry for more.

Cindy was surprised to find that she had control of her body once more. A part of her wanted to turn around and slap Alex, beat him into a bloody pulp, but instead she found herself arching her back, pushing her ass against his…

Presenting herself.

She was presenting herself to her brother.

“Do it,” Alex said, and Cindy reached down and unzipped his pants.

“This is wrong,” she gasped, and she could feel Alex’s smug smile in response.

“Then stop,” he said, but she couldn’t. She directed his erection between her legs, and pushed herself back against it. All too quickly he was entering her—her little brother’s cock was inside her, filling her up.

Cindy tried to shut her eyes, pretend that it was someone else, but she couldn’t.

She couldn’t shut her eyes, and she wanted him too much to pretend.

Standing in the middle of her brother’s room as he amateurishly thrust inside her, over and over, Cindy moaned with pleasure. It was quickly clear to her that this was his first time, but in that moment she didn’t care about his technique (or lack thereof)—she just cared about how good it felt, how much she needed it.

Before long, Cindy was cumming. She wanted to scream out, but all she could do was gasp and hiss.

“Yesssss,” she said breathlessly, even as Alex’s thrusting lost all rhythm and she knew that her brother was cumming as well.

Her entire body shook as Alex pushed as deep inside her as he could and stayed there, twitching as his balls pumped their cum inside her body.

After what felt like an eternity, he withdrew, and the reality of the situation suddenly hit Cindy like a ton of bricks.

Her brother had done something to her. Not only to make her dress like his maid, but to…to make her _want_ him.

What the fuck?

“Alex,” she said in a whisper, wanting to ball her fists but dismayed to discover that she was no longer in control of her what her body did, but he ignored her.

“Thanks for that, sis,” he said with a grin. “Now head back to your room and clean up a bit. I don’t want my maid making a mess, do I?”

Cindy expected her body to march out, as it had been all day, but instead she dropped to all fours.

_Oh, no…_ she thought, not even able to whisper.

Alex smiled. Watching his sister’s well-fucked pussy drip cum as she crawled out of the room was something he could get used to.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](http://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 3: Help Me

For the rest of the day, Cindy had control of her body in all but two regards. Firstly, she found herself completely unable to take off the collar or the French Maid outfit. Her hands simply wouldn’t let her.

She managed to rest her hands on the collar a few times, or press her palm against the French Maid dress’s buttons, but if she tried to do anything like remove them, she suddenly got too turned on to release herself.

Secondly, she wasn’t able to tell anyone what was happening.

As soon as she returned to her room, she logged onto her computer and pulled up Facebook chat.

“Help!” she typed to Marg, surprised when the message went through.

“what’s up?” her friend responded, and Cindy went to type a summary of what her perv of a brother had done to her.

When she was done, she hit send, and gaped at the screen, shocked at what she’d actually sent.

“I’m horny ;)” the message read. It didn’t make any sense—Cindy was sure that she’d typed for at least a minute, but all that she’d sent were two words and an emoticon.

“lol,” her friend replied immediately. “not much i can do about that, sorry. get a vibrater?”

Cindy shut her laptop, afraid of what would send if she kept typing, and lay back on her bed.

She could get out of this. She was sure of it.

To her relief, her brother didn’t call her in again, and she didn’t find herself compelled to move towards his room. He stayed out of her way, and so she spent the day wandering the house, cleaning and dusting all the common areas as she tried to come up with a plan.

At 4pm, her body stiffened, and she found her legs marching her up the stairs. She swallowed nervously, dreading what was to come…but to her surprise, she found herself turning toward her own room. Once within, she slowly stripped out of the French Maid outfit and returned it to its box.

Suddenly in control of her own body again, she turned to face the door, expecting her brother to walk in. But again, she found herself surprised—the door to her bedroom remained firmly closed, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

After waiting for a few minutes, she decided to get dressed, and she again found an unexpected restriction. She could pull out any clothes she wanted, but when it came to actually getting dressed, the only clothes that she could slip into were her sluttiest outfits—low-cut tops, short skirts. She could put on panties, but only thongs, and whenever she tried to put on a bra she found herself throwing it over her shoulder instead.

Finally, Cindy got dressed in the least provocative outfit she could—a denim mini-skirt and blue tank-top. Without a bra, the tank-top showed more cleavage than she was used to, but it was something that she could imagine herself wearing around the house.

She just hoped that Alex would be more lenient when she had to go out. The knowledge that he controlled her wardrobe horrified her…and, to her dismay, slightly thrilled her as well.

Had he implanted this newfound submissiveness, or was this damned collar just bringing it out?

* * *

“That’s a nice collar,” Cindy’s mother said the next morning. Against her will, Cindy’s face moved into a warm smile.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

_Your son is making me wear it,_ she wanted to scream. _He’s using it to control me—he’s controlling my body, my mind. I want to take it off, but I can’t._

But instead, she just resumed eating her breakfast in silence.

“Now, Alex tells me that you’re doing his chores this week.”

This time, Cindy couldn’t even respond with words, and she just silently nodded.

“I don’t know what sort of arrangement you two have reached; I just want to make sure he’s not taking advantage of you.”

“Of course not,” Cindy softly said in response. “Alex wouldn’t do that.”

“Whatever you guys work out,” her mother said with a smile. “Just make sure it gets done.”

As soon as her mother left for the day, Cindy was alarmed to find herself moving upstairs, and immediately changing back into the French Maid outfit. It seemed that any time her and her brother were alone in the house, this was what she would be wearing.

Even worse, the moment she put it on, she dropped to her hands and knees.

Alex was asleep in his room, and as Cindy dutifully crawled towards his door, she found herself getting wet in anticipation of what was to come. As much as she hated her brother, as much as she hated the situation, she had to admit that nothing had ever turned her on as much as thinking about his cock, thinking about what it was going to do to her.

In that moment, even if she had been able to change her path, she didn’t know that she would have.

Silently opening the door, she moved onto his bed, and before her brother woke up, Cindy had his cock halfway down her throat.

She’d never gone down on a guy before—she’d always thought it was dirty, slutty—but the feeling of his hardness sliding in and out of her mouth was one of pure bliss.

Alex’s eyes sleepily fluttered open, and he smiled at the sight of his sister’s lips wrapped around his cock.

“G’morning,” he said, his voice thick with lust—or was it sleep? “I see someone is back for more.”

_Fuck you,_ Cindy thought, and narrowed her eyes in anger. In response, Alex just laughed.

“I’m not controlling you,” he grinned. “This is all you, sis.”

Cindy was shocked to discover that he was right. She had total control over her body—she probably couldn’t bite down, but ever since she’d wrapped her lips around his cock, there had been nothing compelling her to continue fellating her brother.

She considered spitting his cock out, storming out of the room…but what was the point? Her collar would just bring her back, and she’d keep doing what she was doing.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes (finally, she was allowed) and continued bobbing her head up and down.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 4: A Bicurious Moment

“What is that?” Marg asked, wrinkling her nose. Cindy sighed; it was lucky that her mother had seen the collar as “trendy”, but expecting the same reaction from everyone was unreasonable.

“Nothing,” she whispered, wishing that she could explain everything, tell Marg exactly what it was, get her help taking it off.

As soon as she’d left the house, she’d tried to remove it herself. Whenever her hand moved too close to it, she found herself involuntarily dropping to her knees instead. Trying again while she was on her knees caused a powerful wave of arousal to overcome her, and when she attempted to push through that, her hands had instead moved to her tit and pussy, and she’d started frantically groping herself.

Cindy hadn’t managed to regain control of her body until two orgasms later. She was just lucky that she’d tried to remove it while sitting in her car, and not somewhere more public.

“It’s weird,” Marg said, and Cindy nodded automatically.

At least it distracted from the slutty outfit she’d squeezed herself into.

“I know,” she replied, and Marg rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s your funeral. Wear whatever you want.”

Cindy hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until Marg changed the subject, and started talking about the date she’d been on the previous night. Exactly what would have happened if Marg had continued to press she wasn’t sure, but she was certain she didn’t want to find out.

Halfway through the conversation, Cindy’s eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t even realized, but as her friend spoke, Cindy’s attention had been drawn to the smoothness of Marg’s neck, the swell of her breasts underneath her top. Without consciously meaning to, she’d been checking out her best friend…and liking what she saw.

_Alex._

Cindy wanted to be furious at her brother, but in that moment, her focus was on ensuring that Marg didn’t notice her flush, her increased heartbeat.

If her best friend noticed that Cindy was checking her out, the teenaged girl would become an outcast. Wearing a collar and dressing like a slut had already put her on shaky ground—sudden lesbian tendencies would be enough to tip her over the edge.

Until that moment, Cindy had never had so much as a bicurious moment, but all at once she could see the appeal of the female form. She wanted to tear Marg’s clothes off, or soak her with a hose and make her outfit cling perfectly to her curves.

She was overcome by an intense desire to press her lips against Marg’s mouth, against the nape of her neck. Cindy wanted to run two fingers up her thigh, between her legs, listen to the moans, the grunts of pleasure as she brought her to orgasm after orgasm…

“Are you all right?”

Cindy forced a grin in response to her friend’s query.

“Of course I am,” she said softly. “Didn’t get much sleep is all.”

No. She could never do any of that. Marg wasn’t interested, and even if she was, it would cross a line, and their friendship would never be the same again.

Besides, it wasn’t like she _really_ desired her friend. It was just her collar…Alex had given her bisexual tendencies. Just like he’d made her submissive.

Right?

* * *

“Oh god, sis…you’re so good at that.”

Cindy rolled her eyes, even as a flush travelled through her body at her brother’s compliment. Over the last few days, they’d fallen into a fairly predictable routine—whenever they were alone at home, she’d wear a French Maid outfit. The rest of the time, she’d dress in a slutty outfit.

And, of course, she always wore the collar.

For some reason her mother thought the collar was cool, but Cindy had seen her lips pursing whenever she caught her daughter in a new set of revealing clothes. Still, she hadn’t said anything…Cindy knew they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

Sometimes Alex would leave her alone for the day, sometimes he’d call for her, sometimes she’d just find her legs moving her towards her brother’s bedroom. He’d fucked her twice more since that first time, but more often than not, he’d compel her to wrap her lips around his cock…and then relinquish all control.

One time, Cindy had spat his cock out and walked away. She’d expected her legs to force her back into the room, and maybe some kind of punishment—a spanking, or a rough fuck where she didn’t have an orgasm.

Instead, she’d been allowed to slam her door…and then immediately lay down on her bed to masturbate.

Two orgasms later, her legs were shaky and her mind was whirring. The whole time she’d been getting herself off, she’d been imagining Alex’s cock in her mouth. That _had_ to be the collar, right? She’d never even thought about blowing a guy while playing with herself before, let alone her geeky little brother.

But the thought kept playing at the back of her mind—what if it wasn’t? What if she was just getting off, thinking about the latest sexual stimulus she’d had? After all, it wasn’t like going down on her brother was the worst thing in the world…

…on some level, she sort of enjoyed it.

Not the fact that it was her brother, of course. But he was so appreciative, and he obviously found it _super_ sexy. There was something hot about that—he was so attracted to her that he didn’t even care that she was his sister.

He didn’t even care that she wasn’t into him.

Alex had gone to the trouble of making some kind of mind-controlling collar, just so he could have _her_. That was sick and wrong, obviously…but it was also, somehow, kind of hot.

At least, she thought she thought it was hot. Maybe all her thoughts were implanted.

After that, she didn’t stop blowing her brother when he relinquished control. And as he complimented her and admired her body, she found herself getting warm.

Soon, she was shocked to realize that going down on her little bro was one of the highlights of her day.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 5: Talk About It

“Cindy, honey, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

Cindy tried to force a smile, tried to look innocent, but it was obvious that her mother saw right through it.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she replied, and there was an awkward pause.

_She’s not going to say it,_ Cindy realized. _She’s waiting for me to bring it up._

_…how much does she know?_

A chill ran down Cindy’s spine at the thought—her mother had obviously noticed the change in her daughter’s wardrobe, but what else did she suspect? Had she noticed that for the past month, Alex hadn’t done any of his own chores? Had she noticed Cindy bringing him breakfast in bed on days when the collar compelled her?

Had she noticed Cindy occasionally spending the night in her brother’s room?

_Keep quiet,_ Cindy told herself. _If she knows, she’ll definitely say something…and if she doesn’t, talking will only make it worse._

The minutes ticked by, Cindy and her mother just staring at each other in silence. Cindy was, as always, wearing her collar—it sat above the tight pink T-shirt that she’d bought from the mall on the weekend. Her tits stretched it out obscenely, and it left almost half a foot of midriff exposed…but it still covered more than most of the outfits that she was “allowed” to wear.

Finally, the older woman broke the silence.

“Cindy, love, if anything is happening, you know you can talk to me.”

The sincerity in her mother’s voice surprised Cindy, and before she even thought about what she was saying, she started to tell her mother the truth—that her brother had turned her into his own personal sex slave, that she spent all day and night displaying herself for his pleasure, and that there was no one she could talk to about it…

At least, that was what she tried to do.

“Mom, I’m so horny,” she began, her mother’s eyes widening at the words coming out of her daughter’s mouth. “I’m always wet, and no matter what I do I’m just not satisfied.”

Cindy’s hands clamped over her mouth as she realized what she’d just said. Again, the mother-daughter pair sat in silence, as the sexually-charged words that she blurted out sank in.

“Well,” Cindy’s mother said at last, a nervous quaver in her voice. “That’s…um, well, that sounds…tough.”

In response, Cindy just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“And I’m not sure what I can really do to help you with that, but…well, I’m sure that the way you’re dressing isn’t helping.”

Again, Cindy nodded, her sad eyes pleading for her mother to understand what she was _actually_ trying to say, what she’d _really_ meant.

“But I’m glad you told me,” her mother said, her voice softening slightly. “That sounds hard, and if there’s, um, anything I can do…let me know.”

Cindy nodded, and a single tear rolled down her cheek as she fell into her mother’s warm embrace.

* * *

“I told you,” Cindy snapped. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

In fact, she wanted nothing more than to talk about it. But if her experiences in the past week had taught her anything, it was that trying to share the predicament she was in wouldn’t lead to anything but declaring how horny she was…or worse.

A few days after talking to her mother, Cindy had made the mistake of trying to take off her collar again. She’d been on her way to her friend’s boyfriend’s 21st birthday party—she had considered skipping it, but she hadn’t been to a party since the collar had first arrived and was starting to get cabin fever.

Her dress had been revealing but classy, a form-fitting piece that was something that even the old Cindy would have worn to a fancy do. Not that the party was particularly fancy, but Cindy was beginning to tire of the glances and whispered comments from her friends.

She’d wanted to go the party…and she’d wanted to look _good_.

But the collar, of course, ruined the look of the entire outfit.

As she’d been driving to the party, Cindy had glanced in the mirror and seen it. She hated the collar—she hated the way it made her dress, she hated the things it made her do. And she hated how much it made her _enjoy_ what she did with her brother—right before leaving the house, Alex had fucked her to three shuddering orgasms, and even as she drove, she’d unconsciously begun counting down the hours until she’d feel him inside her again.

In a fit of pique, her hand had reached up to unclasp the collar, to throw it out the window and leave it by the side of the highway forever more.

At least that was her intention. Of course, that wasn’t what happened.

Instead, she had been hit by a wave of arousal so powerful it almost caused her to swerve off the road. She’d pulled up to the curb and closed her eyes, one hand immediately groping her right breast through her dress, the other reaching between her legs, making contact with her drenched panties, frantically rubbing the wetness as she obeyed her body’s urgent demands…

And that was when she’d heard the voice.

“Ma’am?”

Her eyes had shot open, and she’d seen a policeman standing there, a curious look on his face.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”

As she opened the door, Cindy wanted to explain, wanted to tell him that she didn’t have control of her body, that she couldn’t stop what she was doing.

But instead, of course, something quite different had left her mouth.

“Please,” she’d begged. “I’m in heat. I need cock…I need to be fucked. Please, sir, fuck me. Please. I need it…”

The policeman had raised one eyebrow, and Cindy shuddered with the memory of the orgasm she’d had as she swallowed his seed.

He’d let her off with a warning.

“No,” she said again, in response to her friend’s query. “I do _not_ want to talk about it.”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 6: Carwash

Cindy scowled at the window.

As soon as the glare appeared on her face, she regretted it—what if an angry look had been a trigger to lose control of her words, and start declaring how turned on she was?

She immediately wiped the look of fury from her face, but when she saw the curtain move, she scowled again.

Why not? What could she be made to do that was any more embarrassing?

Alex had his friends over. Four friends—she didn’t even know their names, just that they were all geeks like him.

She’d caught them lusting after her before. It made sense—when one of your best friends had a sister as hot as she was, of course they were going to glare. And to a certain extent, she’d enjoyed it.

Not the knowledge that she was turning them on, of course—the fact that she was probably the first person that they’d jerked off to was something she was very aware of; something she desperately tried not to think about.

But there was something deliciously fun about toying with a group of guys, knowing that you can twist them around your finger.

Knowing that they’ll do whatever you want.

Of course, now the tables had turned.

The curtains moved to the side, and everyone inside the house had a clear view of Cindy. She saw the sight of her younger brother, and tried to hold back her anger, but it was hard.

In the past, she’d always made sure not to be _too_ scantily clad when her brother had friends around. When her kid brother was home: sure, why not. But when he had company, it just felt _icky_ to be showing off the amount of skin that her typical line-up of bikinis presented.

And so she knew that none of them had ever seen her wearing so little clothing before.

With a sigh, she dipped the sponge back into the bucket, and went back to work.

Her car wasn’t even that dirty. But as soon as Alex had woken up that morning, he’d walked into her room, pulled out her pair of daisy dukes and a pink bikini top, and told her that his friends were coming around…and that she was going to wash her car when they did.

Leaning back, she allowed some of the water to drop onto her mostly-exposed chest. Within seconds, her nipples were rock-hard, and she made sure to rub them against the car as she leaned back over it, making a show of getting it clean.

To her horror, the knowledge that a room full of geeks were getting hard from looking at her was starting to turn her on, and rubbing her perky nipples against the car…felt kind of nice.

It was a good thing that she’d already gotten her denim shorts soaked from cleaning the car, else there would have been a risk of her arousal showing.

She assumed it was some side-effect of the collar; over the last few days, she’d noticed herself getting even wetter than normal. She’d always been quite slick when she was turned on, but lately it was at a whole new level. By the time it was time for bed at night, her panties were invariably soaked through, and on the days when Alex didn’t let her wear any her juices would drip down her leg. She had to constantly be on alert to ensure that no one noticed.

The thought that she would be at the top of their minds when they jerked off that night was enough. Had she been sitting, she would soon been in a pool of arousal.

_It’s just the collar,_ she reminded herself, but the thought of the visible sign of her servitude was enough to cause a fresh jolt of pleasure.

That was new, she was sure. In the past, the collar had been the bane of her existence, enough to make her furious just looking at it. She wanted nothing more than to take it off, jump up and down on it, and then set it on fire.

Over the past week, however…every time she caught sight of it in the mirror, or accidentally brushed her hand against it, she found herself moaning with arousal.

Her infuriatingly erotic thoughts collided, and she imagined what the group of guys must be thinking, seeing her mostly-naked…and wearing a collar.

“What a submissive slut,” she murmured. “She knows who’s boss.”

_No._

_Yes._

Cindy shook her head, trying to ignore her own confused thoughts. Turning her back to the window (aware of how well the angle showed off her ass—her daisy dukes had been carefully trimmed to show of as much of her cheeks as possible) she saw her mother walking up the drive, and carefully tried to avoid eye-contact.

“Cindy…” her mother said, disappointed—Jesus fuck, why did _that_ turn her on? Her mother’s disappointment should have evoked sadness, rage, regret—not arousal.

“What’s up, mom?” she said chirpily, and her mother shook her head in response.

“I just…I’m not sure that’s appropriate clothing to wear out the front of the house. You know the neighbors can see…well, everything.”

_Can they?_ Cindy thought, and a warm feeling spread across her body at the thought.

Had she always been an exhibitionist, or was that something that this damned collar— _ungh!_ —had created within her?

“You’re right,” she said, trying to reply as neutrally as possible.

“Hmmm,” her mother responded, and when it was obvious that the conversation wasn’t going to go any further, she continued into the house and Cindy resumed washing her car.

As soon as her mother was out of sight, her brother and his friends reappeared, standing at the window and staring straight at her. She went to throw them another sullen look, but to her surprise instead put one finger into her mouth, sucking on it seductively and trembling with arousal before turning back to her car and continuing to rub herself alluringly against the bonnet.

At this rate, she was going to cum before she’d even washed all the suds off.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://mcstories.com/Maids/Https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 7: A Sex Thing

“Isn’t that your baby brother?” Sasha said, and Cindy’s eyes opened wide in shock.

“Where??”

“There,” Jasmine said, surprised at the strength of her friend’s reaction. She pointed behind Cindy, and the teenage girl twirled to see what she was talking about.

Sure enough, there was Alex. He was walking straight towards them, a huge grin on his face.

“I thought juniors weren’t allowed in this part of the cafeteria,” Cindy whimpered, and Jasmine nodded.

“They’re not.”

“You’d better tell him to get out before he gets in trouble,” Sasha added, and Cindy shrank in her seat. She knew that there was no way she was going to be able to do that.

“Hey Cindy,” her brother said. “Hey girls.”

“Hey Alex,” Cindy said reluctantly, and her friends stared at her like she’d just crowned him the King of Spain. “What, uh, what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, well,” the teenage boy said, casually pulling out a chair and sitting between Sasha and Jasmine. “I just thought I’d come and see what my favorite sister was up to.”

“Isn’t she your _only_ sister?” Sasha said, and Jasmine joined her in a cruel laugh, acting as if they’d said something stupendously witty.

“Guys…” Cindy said warningly, simultaneously worried about what her friends would do if she didn’t side with them…and what Alex would do if she stood up to him in front of their friends.

“What?” Jasmine said, cocking her head to the side. “You’re not on this twerp’s side, are you?”

“No!” Cindy blurted out. “Of course not.”

A grin slowly spread across Alex’s face, and he turned to face his sister.

Cindy had responded without thinking…something that she knew she’d soon regret.

“Hey sis,” Alex said slowly, and Cindy could tell that he was relishing every moment, deliberately taking his time just to watch her squirm. “Why don’t you tell these guys what you told me the other day?”

Sasha and Jasmine simultaneously raised an eyebrow as they stared at her, as her face grew redder and redder.

“Yeah, _Cindy_ ,” Jasmine said. “Why don’t you tell us?”

“What?” she replied desperately. Cindy genuinely had no idea what her brother was talking about.

“Y’know,” he said casually. “About your new…collar.”

“Oh!”

Just _hearing_ the word “collar” had been enough to make her uncontrollably burst out with a moan of pleasure. She’d known that thinking about it turned her on, but since that discovery she hadn’t ever heard anyone else say it.

Maybe it was just when Alex said it, but hearing the word instantly had her dripping wet. She could tell that her nipples were hard, and hoped that the vest she was wearing was thick enough to hide them.

Probably not. She wasn’t allowed to wear anything that didn’t work hard to showcase her spectacular boobs.

“Oh. My. God.”

Before Cindy could compose herself enough to formulate a reply, Sasha had clued in to what her brother was talking about.

“Is…”

Sasha’s look of skepticism had vanished, replaced with a look of disapproval and disgust.

“Is the collar a _sex_ thing?”

Cindy was in a bind. On one hand, she could hardly agree to that…on the other hand, if she tried to deny it, she didn’t know what words would spring from her mouth instead.

To her relief, Sasha’s use of the word collar hadn’t caused another aroused pant to escape her lips.

“Of course not,” she said, relieved when it seemed that her intended words were actually what came out of her mouth. “I just think it looks cool.”

“Really?” Jasmine said, but Sasha ignored her.

“Oh my god, it’s _totally_ a sex thing.”

“It’s not!” she protested weakly, but her two friends looked thoroughly unconvinced. To her surprise, they turned to Alex for confirmation.

He nodded, and their attention returned to her with renewed looks of shock and horror.

“I swear it’s not,” she repeated, not even sounding convincing to her own ears. Was that Alex’s work, or was she just so worn down that she couldn’t even lie effectively?

“Prove it,” Alex said, and the two girls nodded.

“How?” she asked, and again she was shocked to find them turning to Alex.

Had he done something to her friends? Or were they just reacting to this unexplored territory, deferring to the only one who seemed to know what he was talking about?

“Take it off,” he said. “If it’s not a sex thing, take the collar off.”

_Oh my GOD,_ she thought. _That sounded like a direct order! If Alex is _ordering_ me to take the collar off, surely…_

“Fine,” she said, trying to sound confident. As her hands reached up to obey her little brother’s command, she found that they were trembling slightly.

As they reached the latch, she hesitated. She could be free.

She could be _free_.

Once the collar was off, she wouldn’t be forced to obey her brother’s commands any more.

Was that what she really wanted?

_Yes,_ she thought forcefully. _Yes, it really is._

_But…_

Images flashed through her head—even though her time serving her brother had been humiliating and degrading…he’d always made sure that she came.

Strong, powerful orgasms.

The best orgasms she’d ever had.

_If I take the collar off,_ she realized, _that stops._

_If I take the collar off, I’m free._

_Is that what I want?_

Cindy realized that her hands had been hovering over the latch for almost a minute when she finally began to slowly lower them.

She couldn’t do it.

As much as she sometimes hated obeying her brother’s every command, fulfilling his every whim, the idea of a life without it was something she didn’t even want to think about.

Sasha and Jasmine fell silent as her hands lowered, and Alex got up, a smile on his face.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said, and no one replied as he slowly walked away.

Sasha and Jasmine soon got up as well, and Cindy was left all alone at the table, staring into the wall, a million thoughts racing through her head.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 8: Free Time

Cindy trembled.

It was dark outside. Too dark to tell if anyone was actually there. She knew that it would better if she _knew_ —if she was certain that someone was watching.

Or maybe that would be worse.

_No,_ she decided with a nod of her head. It would definitely be better to know—it definitely couldn’t be worse than _not_ knowing whether anyone was staring at her as she stood, totally naked, in front of her bedroom window.

Well, not totally naked. She was wearing sunglasses, a white pair of sports socks, and—of course—her collar.

She could never remove _that_ , of course. The white sports socks were to make sure that she didn’t get cold feet, and the sunglasses ensured that even after her eyes adjusted, no matter how hard she squinted, she wouldn’t know for sure whether was watching.

On one level, Cindy knew that she deserved the punishment. Alex had told her he wanted to cum on her face, but she’d gotten so into blowing him that she’d swallowed his load down without even noticing.

Of course, Cindy wasn’t even sure whether it _was_ a punishment. Another shiver passed through her body as her unwilling exposure stoked her exhibitionist desires. Anyone could be down there, looking up at her—friends from school, enemies. Teachers. Her old boss, her old babysitter. The creepy neighbor who’d been leering at her since she first hit puberty.

If he were down there, he’d be enjoying the show more than anyone.

As she stood, arms behind her back, her head held high, her chest thrust forward, Cindy had plenty of thinking time. This couldn’t go on forever, could it?

Not her punishment—Alex had made it very clear how long that would go for. Exactly one hour—she’d set an alarm on her phone so she’d know when time was up. At least, Cindy hoped she had—her phone had been misbehaving lately.

What if the alarm didn’t sound? She could hardly abandon her post to go check it, but without an indication of when her punishment was over, she could be standing there for hours.

She could stand naked and trembling at her window until the sun came up.

Cindy shook her head, an action that she knew would send a ripple through her body, making her tits bounce and sway slightly for anyone who was watching.

For everyone who was watching.

This couldn’t go on forever. Being fucked in all her holes whenever her little brother had the urge. Being publicly humiliated as a punishment. Being used as a sex slave.

Their mother was already growing suspicious, and that would just grow over time. What if she were to step outside right now, join the throng of people that Cindy had convinced herself were congregating outside. What if she looked up and saw what her daughter had become?

No, it couldn’t go on forever. Before long it have to end, and life would go back to normal.

Why did that thought make her so sad?

* * *

The dishes were clean, Alex’s room had been vacuumed, and the kitchen was freshly mopped. Her little brother’s laundry for the week was in the dryer, and Cindy had forty minutes to kill before they’d be ready to be folded and put away.

Mentally running over her list of chores, she realized that she didn’t have any to kill time with. She’d done everything she was meant to do for the week—more dishes would pile up, of course, but all of her chores _and_ Alex’s chores were complete. Even the extra chores she’d picked up to help her mother out were done.

Cindy wandered up to her room; her homework was done, and she’d even completed an essay which wasn’t due for another two weeks.

There was nothing to do. She was ahead on everything, with time to spare.

Cindy spent the next ten minutes trying to work out _what_ to do with her time. She could start the latest in the series of books she was reading, or watch an episode of TV, or even just call her friends up and shoot the shit. When was the last time she’d had actual, genuine downtime?

It didn’t take her long to decide what she wanted to do. For the next half-hour, she wanted to pretend to be a normal girl—she wanted to pretend that she wasn’t her brother’s sex slave, that the collar didn’t exist, and that just _thinking_ about the collar didn’t make her wet.

Although, since she was wet anyway…one thing that Cindy had done as a “normal girl” was masturbate. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gotten off without her brother’s cock inside her, or without a sudden rush of collar-induced arousal.

This would be nice. It would be a little treat—a reminder of simpler times.

Cindy hummed a little song to herself as she prepared her room, propping up her pillows, lighting a candle, playing music from a boy band she’d worshipped as a teenager.

Soon she was laying on her bed, her hands running up and down her skin. That was when she encountered a problem.

What did she _think_ about?

Nowadays it was easy. Just the image of her brother’s cock was enough to make her shudder in pleasure—she knew that it was sick, and wrong, and almost certainly a thought that he’d implanted, but she couldn’t help it. It had brought her so much pleasure, so consistently. Even if it had been fake, against her will, the orgasms had been real.

Thinking about her collar wasn’t much better—as the cause of her imprisonment, Cindy had once hated it. But now…

Now, just being aware of its feeling around her neck was almost enough to bring her to orgasm.

For the next twenty minutes, Cindy tried desperately to remember what used to turn her on. Pop stars? Ex-boyfriends? Fantasies?

It was hard to remember what were her genuine fantasies and what had been implanted or accidentally trained into her. She was sure that she hadn’t _always_ gotten off to images of herself as a slave, tied to the bed and fucked by her master. And what about the thought of exposing herself to the entire mall, seeing all those strangers fucking her with their eyes, wanting her…was that a new fantasy, or was that what she’d always wanted?

Memories and fantasies blurred together, until she couldn’t remember what was what. It wasn’t until she heard the dryer beeping from downstairs that she realized she’d spent all her free time tracing patterns on her skin, working herself up.

If she stopped now, she’d spend the rest of the day uncontrollably aroused…and not even be able to blame Alex for it.

With a sigh, Cindy shut her eyes and imagined her little brother’s cock, forcefully fucking her throat. She pictured him ordering her to strip for his enjoyment, until she was wearing nothing but her collar.

Her collar.

Less than a minute later, she came. Thinking of her collar, picturing it in her mind and feeling it around her throat. As her pussy clenched around her fingers, she breathed a sigh of relief.

That felt so much better.

Cindy got up with a smile, and went downstairs to begin sorting her brother’s laundry.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 9: Rules of the Collar

“It’s not a sex thing,” Cindy repeated for the fifteenth time that day.

It was clear from her friend’s smirks that they didn’t believe her. Truth be told, she was fairly convinced that they would _never_ believe her—she wasn’t entirely sure why she kept defending the indefensible, other than a desperate hope that maybe they’d drop it.

“That’s not what Alex told us,” Marg said with a smirk.

“Wait,” Cindy said, stopping to face her friends. “When have _you_ been talking to Alex?”

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Cindy momentarily felt like she had the upper hand. Her friends froze, and exchanged a nervous glance.

“He’s not so bad,” Ally said, and Marg nodded.

“He’s actually pretty funny. For a dweeb.”

“I cannot believe you guys have been hanging out with my kid brother,” Cindy scoffed, but her feeling of superiority began to fade as smiles slowly began to spread across her friends faces.

“That’s not all he told us,” Marg added.

“What do you mean?” Cindy asked, trying (but failing) to keep the smug look on her face.

“He told us that whoever it was that gave you that collar also gave you some rules.”

“What rules?” Cindy replied, genuinely confused. “Also, no one gave me this collar. I told you…I just wear it because I think it’s fun.”

“Yeah,” Ally chuckled. “Your brother told us you _have_ to say that.”

Resisting the childish temptation to reply “Nuh-uh!”, Cindy tried to change the subject. Before she could tempt anyone into a conversation about the end-of-year dance, however, Marg had continued.

“He said he couldn’t tell us all the rules, but he told us a couple.”

“There’s no rules,” Cindy said, a note of panic in her voice.

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“Okay then,” Marg said, shooting a knowing look at Ally. “So then you won’t mind if I tell you I’m feeling cold.”

“Oh godddd…” Cindy replied, a surge of lust shooting through her body. She had no idea what was happening, but she knew it wasn’t going to end well.

A flush quickly spread across her face and shoulders—she knew that it would look to her friends as if she was embarrassed from being caught out. Of course, how could they know that it was an uncontrollable burst of arousal?

It didn’t take Cindy long to realize what her programmed response was to Marg’s key-phrase. As soon as her best friend had said it, she’d felt a pull towards the other girl’s lips. They were so plump, so red, so ripe…

So kissable.

“No,” she whimpered to herself, but her friends caught her, and their wicked grins broadened. They thought she was begging them for mercy.

“Come on,” Ally taunted. “What are you going to do?”

They thought she had a choice.

“Please…” Cindy said, but before she could finish the thought, the urge to kiss her friend completely overtook her. She leaned forward, and gently pushed her lips against Marg’s.

As soon as she did, a flood of memories passed through her head. How many nights had she dreamt of doing exactly this? How many conversations had she been in with her gorgeous friend, trying desperately to keep up with what was being said, trying not to get distracted by Marg’s overwhelming beauty?

How long had she been desperately refusing to admit that she was bisexual, that the only thing she wanted as much as her brother’s thick cock was to touch her friend’s soft skin, to slowly strip her down and explore every inch of her body with her mouth?

To her surprise, Marg didn’t resist, didn’t freak out. Nor did she respond, but Cindy took the opportunity (or was she forced to, by the collar? It was all blurring together so much these days) to prolong the kiss, to raise one hand and rest it against her friend’s cheek as she tentatively poked out her tongue and ran it against the other girl’s bottom lip.

Finally, when she knew she’d pushed it as far as she could, she pulled back. Her deep blush never faded, and for a split second she felt proud when she was that Marg was speechless.

“Wow,” Ally finally said, breaking the silence.

“I know, right?” Cindy wanted to reply, but instead she kept her mouth shut, avoiding eye-contact with her two friends, desperately wishing she could stare at Marg and see if she’d enjoyed their kiss as much as Cindy had.

“Wow,” Marg echoed. “I can’t…”

She trailed off, and Cindy risked a quick glimpse at her friend’s face. To her relief, she didn’t look angry or disgusted…but when she noticed Cindy looking, a cruel glint came into her eye.

“I can’t believe Cindy is such a _slut_. Oh my god.”

“I’m not a slut,” Cindy murmured.

“Oh really?” Ally said mockingly. “Cindy…I’m feeling cold.”

Ally’s response was nothing like Marg’s—as soon as the collared girl’s lips touched hers, she’d pulled away.

“You absolute whore,” she sneered. “I can’t believe you’d let someone do this to you.”

“She’s not letting him do it,” Marg said, and Cindy looked up, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“She’s not _letting_ him do it—she’s into it. Look at her. Look at how she’s breathing.”

“ _Ew._ ” Ally said, and Cindy’s vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. These were her best friends—they’d only seen a glimpse of what her life had become, and they’d already decided exactly what she was.

Collecting her bag and books, she got up from the table, stumbling her way towards the door. As she did, she overheard Marg gleefully suggest something to Ally.

“Let’s see what other rules Alex knows.”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 10: Leashed

“Okay,” Cindy’s mother said, looking back and forth between her and her brother. “I don’t know _what’s_ going on, but it stops today.”

“What do you mean, Mom?” Cindy said, as innocently as she could. In return, her mother just raised one eyebrow.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

For a moment, Cindy’s heart-rate quickened. She couldn’t…she couldn’t _know_ , could she? Had she caught Cindy, standing naked at the window, or come home early and stumbled across her daughter dressed an erotic French Maid?

Had she caught her daughter sneaking into Alex’s room, late at night, and sucking him off? Had she heard Cindy’s moans as her brother fucked her into a catatonic state, giving his sister orgasm after orgasm before cumming deep inside her?

“The chores,” their mother said, when the pause had grown unbearably long. “I don’t know what kind of deal you two made, but it’s getting ridiculous. Alex, from now on, I want to see you doing your own chores.”

“Okay mother,” Alex said calmly, but Cindy had gotten pretty good at reading her brother’s moods. His eyes had narrowed slightly at her words, and his jaw was clenched.

He was mad.

* * *

For the next few hours, Alex took care of various chores around the house, under his mother’s direct supervision. Cindy was told to take off and enjoy the day, but instead she sat in her room twisting her hands, her stomach turning.

What was her punishment going to be?

Alex was going to punish her, she knew this for a fact. Although she’d done all that she could to prevent her mother’s decision to make him do her own chores, he was going to find her responsible.

Maybe she _was_ responsible.

_No,_ Cindy told herself. _No, you don’t deserve this._

_Although, maybe you could have tried a _bit_ harder…_

Finally, after an eternity of watching the minute-hand circling the clock-face, Alex came upstairs. He passed Cindy’s room without so much as glancing inside, and she heard him slam the door to his bedroom.

The minute-hand made it another quarter of the way around the clock before anything changed. Cindy found herself abruptly jerked off her bed and onto all fours.

_No,_ she thought frantically to herself. _Don’t make me crawl around the house. Not while Mom is home…_

To her surprise, she instead made her way under her bed, poking around until she found a brown paper parcel, much like the one that she’d originally received the collar in.

A curious mix of arousal and terror filled her body, and as her head thumped with adrenaline, she carefully opened it. The collar wasn’t making her—there was no compulsion, aside from her own curiosity.

Inside, she found a black leather leash, around four feet long. Folding it up, she put it in her mouth.

Cindy poked her head outside her bedroom door; her mother was nowhere to be seen. Without any control over her body, she dropped to all fours, and made her way into her brother’s room.

* * *

Cindy’s ass was almost as red as her face. As soon as their mother had left, Alex had began spanking her with the folded-up leash.

Loudly.

She wasn’t sure what was worse: the pain, or the orgasms that the leather against her bare cheeks had brought her to.

_I deserve this,_ she’d thought uncontrollably. Was the collar causing these feelings of guilt, or was she just that well-trained?

Or—perhaps worse—were the thoughts _right_? Alex wasn’t a bad master, all things considered. Yes, he shouldn’t be fucking his sister, but…she _had_ started it, with her pranks and years of treating him cruelly.

And, after all, he always ensured that she had a good time.

At least, that was what she assumed. A new theory popped into her head, one which made her blush even more—maybe Alex had never controlled her arousal. Maybe Alex had just stumbled upon the stimulation she needed.

Maybe she was naturally submissive, and her younger brother had accidentally tapped into that.

_No,_ she thought desperately to herself. _No, that can’t be true._

But once the thought burrowed into her mind, she couldn’t get rid of it. All she could do was try not to think about it; a feat which proved easy than she’d expected when Alex revealed the second half of her punishment.

Some part of Cindy had been hoping the spanking was punishment enough. But as soon as she found herself moving again, it became clear that wasn’t the case—and, in retrospect, that seemed obvious.

After all, she’d enjoyed the spanking almost as much as Alex presumably had. More, even.

To her horror, Alex clipped the leash around her collar, and held the other end.

“Come,” he ordered, and Cindy paused, hoping that an orgasm was to follow the command.

No such luck.

When he saw his sister disobeying a direct order, Alex raised one eyebrow, and Cindy scurried forward, sitting at his feet.

It was obviously too late, and the teenaged girl shut her eyes and braced herself for another smack.

_Slap!_

Her whole body shook with a mixture of pain and pleasure, and she vowed to never again ignore one of Alex’s commands.

Cindy was walked downstairs, and—for the first time in her life—she had a real appreciation for canines. Being leashed was _hard_ —if was too slow, she found herself being dragged along by the neck. If she got too far ahead (as she did once or twice, in an attempt to avoid being too slow) then the same thing happened, but with the pressure on the front of her throat.

After a few laps around the house, she’d started to get the hang of it. The trick was to stay beside Alex, but never underfoot. She looked up at her brother proudly, and his smile filled her with warmth.

She was forgiven.

At the sound of the front door opening, Alex dropped the leash and casually sidled into the downstairs bathroom, closing the door behind him. Cindy looked around, panicked—there was nowhere she could hide. She was on all fours in the main hallway, wearing a collar and a leash.

Fortunately she was clothed, wearing about as much as she normally did around the house (at least, as much as she’d been allowed to since first putting on the collar). As long as her mother didn’t check for underwear, she’d be fine on that front.

Her mother came through the door, pausing at the sight of her daughter seated outside the bathroom, wearing a pink dress and a black collar and leash.

“Uhh…”

“What?” Cindy asked brightly, doing a much better job of acting innocent than she had that morning.

_The punishment worked,_ she told herself.

“You’re wearing…”

“Oh, this?” Cindy asked casually. “Yeah, it goes with the collar. It’s part of the whole…thing.”

“I’ll never understand you kids,” her mother said, and with a friendly smile walked upstairs to her room.

_I sure hope not,_ Cindy thought, breathing a sigh of relief. That had been close.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 11: New Job

“Oh my god,” Sasha said, touching her friend on the arm. “ _There she is._ ”

Ally and Jasmine beamed with anticipation as Cindy approached their table.

“Hey guys,” Cindy said slowly. “I, uh…”

“I don’t believe that’s the _official_ Hooters greeting,” Jasmine crowed, and Cindy’s heart sank.

Oh, god. They weren’t here as her friends.

They were here to laugh at how low she’d sunk.

It had been a little over two weeks since Cindy had found herself driving to Hooters and asking the manager for an application form. Apparently Alex had decided to start making money off his sister.

_I guess there are worse ways he could have done that,_ she told herself, images of her naked form spinning around a pole flashing through her mind.

The thought made her warm, but she was glad that he’d gone with the more family-friendly way of using her body for money.

The first week had been fine, but in her second week, Alex had started slowly fucking her before each shift…without letting her climax. Cindy had been going to work flushed and horny, and her tips had almost doubled as a result.

Before seeing her friends, Cindy had been blatantly flirting with a group of men who were quickly becoming regulars. Then she’d seen the three girls sitting at a table, smirking…

“I’m gonna be your Hooters Girl,” Cindy beamed, and thrust her chest out—a move that she’d discovered drastically increased her tips.

Her three friends burst out laughing, and Cindy sighed, without ever letting the smile leave her mouth.

“What’d I tell you?” a male voice said, and Cindy’s eyes widened with shock as Alex took the empty seat at the table. To her horror, her three friends grinned at him.

Had…had Alex stolen her friends?

“Your sister is _such_ a slut,” Ally said, a look of disgust on her face.

“Is it just me,” Ally drawled, “or is it getting cold in here?”

“No,” Cindy whispered. “Please.”

“Seems fine to me,” Alex said, a cruel grin on his face.

“I don’t know,” Ally said, carefully enunciating each word. “I’m…getting cold.”

Cindy closed her eyes, and leaned in across the table. Her lips slowly met Ally’s, and her tongue hesitantly emerged from her lips. To her great surprise, Ally’s mouth opened and allowed it to enter, and goose pimples ran up Cindy’s exposed arms as her tongue briefly danced with her friend’s.

When she opened her eyes again, her face was burning red, and she expected that the entire restaurant would be staring. Looking around, it seemed that the only people who had noticed the brief (but passionate) kiss were the group of guys she’d been serving earlier.

They were staring at her, mouths open in shock. She caught the eye of one of them, without meaning to, and his face slowly morphed into a wide smile.

She knew she’d be getting a generous tip from _them_.

“You are such a _slut_ ,” Ally repeated, although Cindy noticed a slight tinge of red in her cheeks.

Quickly taking her friends’ orders, she rushed back to the kitchen, hoping that she’d be able to regain her composure. As she left the table, she heard Jasmine say “Please, Alex—you have _got_ to tell us another one of her rules.”

* * *

“Now, while I’m away, don’t forget—Cindy is in charge.”

Cindy nervously glanced at her brother, but his face gave nothing away. He had a smug smile on his face, and his arms were crossed as he listened to his mother explain the rules.

“I don’t want to hear…—“

“Mom,” Cindy interrupted, a slight quaver in her voice. Last time, she hadn’t _really_ tried.

She wasn’t making that mistake again.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know if I need to be in charge.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Alex has really grown up lately. He’s very mature for his age…”

Cindy paused, wondering how far she should push it. Remembering the consequences last time, she pressed on.

“Actually, I was thinking that _he_ should be in charge.”

Their mother’s brow crinkled, and she tilted her head slightly before replying.

“Honey, you’re two years older than him. I am definitely not leaving _him_ in charge of _you_. Now, the other thing…—“

“I don’t know,” Cindy said, interrupting again. “I really don’t mind. He’s…he’s very advanced for his age.”

A frown slowly appeared on her mother’s face, and as she spoke, Cindy played with her leash nervously. She was still forced to wear it around the house, but had been relieved to discover that she could remove it when she went outside.

Not that she really went outside much, except for work and school. It seemed the shine of having his sister as his plaything was starting to wear off for her brother, and Cindy had been shocked to discover that…she _missed_ it.

She’d never thought that she would miss her brother constantly using her for sex, but she did. Yes, she could bring herself to orgasm with her own hand, imagining her brother pumping in and out of her. It was nice, but…it wasn’t the same.

Whenever she could, she was hanging around the house, doing anything she could dream up to make Alex happy. As soon as her mother left, she would strip off and wait outside his room collared and leashed, but otherwise naked…just in case he decided he wanted her.

For anything.

“Cindy, for god’s sake. You’re in charge while I’m away, okay? End of discussion.”

Cindy lowered her head in shame, and tuned out as her mother explained the rest of the rules—no parties, no alcohol, no drugs.

She wasn’t quite sure where her mother thought they would even _get_ drugs, but it didn’t matter. As her mother spoke, Cindy realized something—she’d failed in her task.

Maybe that meant she would get punished.

The thought perked her up, and she listened to the rest of her mother’s instructions with a big smile on her face, dreaming of what kind of punishment her brother would concoct…

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 12: The Party

“I said I’m sorry,” Cindy repeated demurely.

“It doesn’t matter,” Alex calmly replied. “Your punishment is that you have to be entertainment for my party.”

_That’s not my only punishment,_ Cindy thought dourly.

It had been almost three days since Alex had last fucked her, and she was starting to climb up the wall. She’d never thought that she would _miss_ the feeling of her brother’s cock inside her, but she did.

At least he’d let Cindy blow him that morning.

“Plus,” Alex said smugly, “when you get back, you’ll take the rap for the party.”

“How many people…—“

“Forty,” Alex said with a grin.

_Do you even know forty people?_ Cindy asked herself, then mentally slapped herself for the thought.

Her brother had never been as popular as her, but that wasn’t his fault. She should be nicer to him.

She should respect him.

Was this new attitude from the collar, or from herself? Cindy didn’t know any more. Frankly, she didn’t even care.

Alex continued to give instructions, and she forced a grin onto her face. Maybe he’d be so worked up after seeing her serve all his friends, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Maybe he’d throw her to the floor…

Cindy tuned out briefly, her smile becoming genuine as she imagined all the positions that Alex could fuck her in. God…

She wanted it so bad.

“Understood?” he asked, and Cindy snapped back to reality.

“Of course!” she said brightly, and Alex slapped her rear as she left the room. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, but maybe the collar would work it out for her. Often when she was unsure of a specific command, she could let the collar do the thinking.

* * *

“Oh my GOD!”

Cindy’s blood ran cold at the sound.

The party had been going so well until then—Cindy only recognized her brother’s nerd friends, who made up less than a quarter of the attendees. Apparently he’d become more popular…or, more likely, had made promises that people had turned up to find out if he could keep.

The moment she’d entered, the entire party had gone silent, and every eye had turned to her. Not surprisingly—aside from her ubiquitous collar, Cindy was dressed in the most exposing French Maid outfit she’d ever seen.

Her tits were being pushed up, almost overflowing from the black-and-white lacy outfit, and her dress began more than three inches above where her stockings ended. She was wearing tall black heels…and nothing else.

Every time she bent over (which the guests found many opportunities to make her do), her rear and pussy were completely exposed.

People adapt quickly, and the shock of Cindy’s appearance soon worn off. Alex’s friends found every opportunity they could to make contact with Cindy’s bare skin, and after the other guests had seen that she didn’t object (in fact, she was so starved for physical attention, Cindy found herself pushing back against the hands), other people had started blatantly groping her as well.

She’d been bent over to pick up a discarded paper cup. One hand (it felt like a woman’s, but it could have been the soft hand of one of Alex’s geeky friends) had grabbed her ass, while another had slowly begun running up and down her leg.

That’s when she heard it.

“What are you _doing_?”

Cindy stood up so fast that her head span, and turned to find her worst nightmare come true: her four closest friends—Marg, Jasmine, Sasha, and Ally—were standing there, looks of shock and delight on their faces.

“No…” she whimpered under her breath, and her heart sank even more when Alex entered the room, and her friends’ faces lit up.

“What’d I tell you?” he said with a grin, and they began talking over each other in excitement.

Cindy went to take a step towards them, but found that she couldn’t; someone on the other side of the room was gesturing for another drink, and she was compelled to serve them.

When she was done pouring the jock a drink, the whole group had gone. Cindy almost tripped over her heels in her haste to chase after them. Hearing voices from the kitchen, she put her ear to the door.

“Oh my god,” Ally was laughing. “She is going to _trip_.”

“You don’t think this is a bit cruel?” Jasmine asked, and Cindy heard Marg scoff in response.

“No,” she said. “It’s going to be hilarious.”

“Okay girls,” Alex said, and Cindy heard a tinge of nervousness in his voice. “Put them on!”

Put them on? But that meant…

_No!_

Cindy burst into the kitchen, screaming for her friends to stop, but as she did, she heard the snap of the last collar going into place.

Alex turned to his sister, an arrogant grin on his face.

“Oh hey,” he said. “Say hello to your friends.”

“Oh fuck…” Cindy said, trying not to cry. Not only at her friend’s predicament—they were standing there, a silent look of panic in their eyes, clearly unable to move or say anything.

She sorry for them, yes, but to a certain extent they had it coming. Had they decided not to try to show her up, this never would have happened.

No, Cindy’s tears came from the look on her brother’s face. After acknowledging her presence in the room, he’d immediately turned back to her four friends…his eyes filled with lust.

_He used to look at me like that,_ Cindy thought sadly. Now, even when she was naked, oiled, and practically throwing herself at him, Alex barely even noticed her.

“Come on girls,” Alex said, gesturing at the kitchen door. “Cindy will show you the ropes. Your costumes are upstairs—this party is about to get pretty wild.”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 13: The Party II

As soon as the girls left the kitchen, everyone except Cindy reached for their collars.

“Oh!”

“Ah…”

“ _Mmmm!_ ”

“Ohhhhhh!”

Four simultaneous moans of arousal emerged as they tried to unlatch the buckles. All of a sudden the look of fear in their eyes was gone, replaced with a hungry look of lust.

“Follow me,” Cindy said, walking them up the stairs and to her room. She was unsurprised to find four more cardboard boxes on her bed, simply labeled “A”, “J” “M”, and “S”.

“Put ’em on.”

The girls exchanged confused glances, but—still slightly dazed from the burst of arousal that had hit them after their poorly thought out escape plan—obediently took the appropriately-labeled boxes, and opened them up.

Cindy peered over Sasha’s shoulder. All she could see was black and white lace. As the girls began pulling out their costumes for the night, Cindy heard the door open behind her.

“Decided not to miss the show,” Alex whispered into her ear, and Cindy’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t even come to watch when she’d first put on her uniform.

She’d been having enough trouble attracting his attention as his only slave, how was she going to fare when she was competing with her four hottest friends?

Still, she knew jealousy wouldn’t get her anywhere, so as he sat in the corner of her room to watch the blushing girls slowly undress, she dropped to her knees and sat on the floor beside his chair, leaning her head against his knee.

Cindy wished that a surge of happiness hadn’t hit her when he reached out and scratched her on the back of the head, but it did. It seemed that she was at the point of craving any attention from him, even if it was being treated like a dog. Like a pet.

Her brother’s pet.

The sound of the music from downstairs could be heard through the floor as Cindy watched her friends get naked for her brother. His breathing got faster as more of their bodies came into view, and she knew that he was getting hard. A thrill of arousal hit her at the idea of sucking him off while her friends made out for his pleasure, but he gave no indication that was what he wanted, so she just sat and watched the teenage girls strip with him.

When they were standing naked in front of him, Alex began giving them instructions.

“Tonight, you will call me master,” he said, and smiled as all four girls chorused “Yes, master,” in response. “You will call all the other guests sir or madam, and you will flirt with them as you serve.”

“Yes, master.”

“Ally: your job tonight is to service women. I want you to flirt with every female at the party; if any of them reciprocate even slightly, you are to focus on them. If they want to touch you, or use you for anything sexual, you are to act as if it’s the greatest honor and pleasure you can imagine.”

“Yes, master,” Ally said, and Cindy could feel the hate shooting from her eyes.

“Put your uniform on and go downstairs.”

Ally got dressed in a French Maid outfit, identical to the one that Cindy was wearing, and left the room. Cindy knew for a fact that at least two of the girls downstairs were lesbians; by the end of the night, dyke-hating Ally would likely have a sore and exhausted tongue.

“Jasmine…actually, that’s too long. From now on, you go by Jazz, okay?”

“Yes, master.”

“You like rules. Tonight, Jazz, you have a few rules that you have to obey at all times. Whenever you see someone checking you out, you have to wink at them. And whenever someone winks at you, you’re going to cum.”

Jazz’s eyes widened slightly in horror, but her forced grin never left her face.

“You’ll be completely silent when you cum, and after you have, you’ll lick your lips and wink at someone new. Understand?”

“Yes, master,” Jazz said, and while her voice was as upbeat as the other maids, her face was completely pale.

“Get dressed and go downstairs. Sasha…”

“Yes, master?”

“My friends have always liked you. You know which ones are my friends, right?”

“No, master.”

Cindy cringed slightly as her brother’s jaw clenched.

“Well, you’re going to find out. And once you do, you’re going to spend the party with them, flirting and acting naturally. I want them to think that you really like them, and that you’re just doing this costume thing for a laugh. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

“Your aim is to seduce all of them by the end of tonight. If you fail at this, or they think something is up…”

Alex’s nostrils flared.

“You’re going to be punished.”

Sasha gulped.

“Now put on your outfit and join the others.”

“Yes, master.”

“And Marg…”

Marg was standing in the corner of Cindy’s room, a red flush all over her body. Her tits were full and round, and the patch of hair between her legs was neatly trimmed.

Cindy had never seen such a perfect body in her life.

Alex just sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking in the body of his sister’s best friend—the body which had tricked him into getting completely nude a few months ago. Had it only been a few months? To Cindy, it felt like an entire lifetime ago.

He continued to play with his sister’s hair as he stared, before letting out a deep, satisfied smile.

“Cindy,” he said, and his sister sat up in shock. She’d been waiting, curious to see what perverted orders he was going to give her best friend. “Go downstairs and help the others. Make sure everyone is having a good time at the party.”

“Yes, master,” she said, and as she left the room, Alex got up and started walking towards Marg, who was trembling naked in the corner.

As Cindy closed the door, she heard a soft female moan, followed by the glorious sound of Alex’s fly unzipping.

God she wished she was on the other side of that door.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 14: The Party III

Cindy diligently made sure that everyone at the party was having the best possible time. She knew that if she failed at her task, Alex would punish her. If she did well, however…he might even be proud of her.

A smile from Alex. The only thing she craved more was his hard rod, pushing inside her, causing her to cream again and again as he pounded her, using her like his personal sex toy, cumming inside her and then letting her clean her juices off his cock...

Blinking twice, Cindy looked around the party.

_Gotta stay focused_ , she reminded herself. _It’s the only way…_

Fortunately, the instructions that Alex had given the entertainment—Cindy’s friends—meant that the party was by far the wildest that anyone in the room had ever attended.

After Cindy had returned with three similarly-clad girls, a few people had left in shock and disgust...but the rest of the party-goers were teenagers. Even if they weren’t interested in the girls, the sheer spectacle of it was worth staying for.

Cindy imagined the stories that would begin ruminating about them after the weekend, and shuddered in disgust...or possibly arousal.

As she watched Ally, Jazz and Sasha begin their work entertaining the party, it was hard for Cindy to remember that she’d once considered them friends.

Now, more than anything, they were competition.

Trying to ignore the slight thumping sound that she could hear from upstairs, Cindy reminded herself why they’d been friends in the first place.

Similar interests? Since her collaring, Cindy’s interests had definitely shifted. She still cared about clothes...for the purpose of turning Alex on. Maybe that was why he hadn’t fucked her lately; he’d gotten used to her naked form. She would have to go online and find some new outfits, lingerie, swimwear—anything to highlight her form and gain his interest anew.

Cindy watched as Ally picked up a bowl of peanuts and sashayed across the room to a group of girls. The moment the four maids had entered the room, they’d stopped talking and just watched in shock, occasionally passing snarky comments back and forth. As Ally approached, three of them screwed up their noses in disgust...but the fourth leaned forward, her eyebrows slightly raised.

Ally was going to have fun with her. Well, Ally wouldn’t be having fun...but she’d certainly ensure that the hopeful girl had a good time.

Cindy and her friends had spent a lot of time discussing boys, that was for sure. Boys at school, their favorite singers, movie stars...

Never Alex, of course. Only now could Cindy see what a mistake that was.

That was the result of the collar though. Obviously. Alex was still the dweeby kid that he’d always been—the fact that the very sight of him filled Cindy with warmth, the adoration she felt at the thought of pleasing him, the uncontrollable arousal that consumed her at the knowledge he was turned on...

That was all because of the collar.

What else could it be?

On the other side of the room, Sasha had clearly worked out who Alex’s friends were. She was sitting between two of them (practically on their laps) as she laughed at their jokes, and joined them in making fun of the other maids at the party.

Cindy was too far away to hear what she was saying, but she could imagine it.

“Can you believe them?” she’d say, convincing them that the identical costume she was wearing was _different_ , somehow. “I went along with it for a laugh, but they’re really into the idea. They’re such sluts...”

Cindy had seen Sasha flirting before. She already had the nerds eating out of the palm of her hands—it wouldn’t be long until she was inviting them into another room, and insisting that they were special— _all_ of them.

And then, as per Alex’s commands, she’d be fucking as many of them as would have her. Where some would probably be put off by the idea of putting their cock into the girl who had just taken three of their friend’s cum, Alex’s friends were probably desperate enough to not be too bothered by that.

The noises upstairs had finished, and Cindy knew it wouldn’t be long until Marg reentered the party, flushed and disheveled.

God, she’d give anything to trade places with her at that point.

There were a dozen cute guys at the party, but Cindy only wanted one: her nerdy little brother.

The collar had definitely done something to her. Definitely. There was no way she was _actually_ attracted to Alex.

Even if he had made her cum harder (and more) than anyone before…harder than even her own fingers. Even if he made her feel more womanly, more complete, more sure of her position in life.

Even if he’d transformed her from the stuck-up bitch she recognized she’d once been.

Maybe that was why she didn’t feel connected to her friends—where she’d grown as a person, they’d stayed the cruel, teasing people that they’d always been.

That _she_ had been.

Alex had given her a personal and sexual satisfaction that she’d never felt before. He’d brought her pleasure, and put her in a position to bring pleasure to others.

And Cindy had no doubt that by the time he was done with them, her friends would be better people too—happier, more empathetic, and certainly more sexually fulfilled.

It was hard to hate him, when the effects of the collars were so obvious.

But that didn’t mean that she _liked_ him. No, that was surely the work of the collar.

Right?

Cindy was broken out of her reverie by the sight of Jasmine...no, Jazz. Her name was Jazz now; Alex had declared it.

Jazz was shaking in silent orgasm, a broad smile on her face. Cindy had never seen her friend so relaxed before—she must have had more than a dozen orgasms, and it looked like they had wiped out all resistance she’d had to Alex’s orders.

_Maybe Jazz will realize that this is all for the best_ , Cindy thought. _Maybe we’ll become friends again after all._

With a smile, Jazz licked her lips, and her eyes scanned the room for someone else to wink at. As she glanced in Cindy’s direction, Cindy couldn’t resist giving her a huge wink, and watching with a smile as the tremors overcame her once more.

_Yes...maybe this will all work out for the best._

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 15: The Party IV

It was only a few minutes after Marg rejoined the party that Cindy worked out the instructions her former best friend had been given.

Unlike the other four maids circulating, bringing pleasure to as many guests as they could (or, in Jazz’s case, being brought pleasure with every wink), Marg was still wearing underwear.

Not much underwear, admittedly—a thong, barely concealing her perfect ass. She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra—her tits were sagging slightly as a result, but not enough that anyone would complain.

Especially when her nipples were so close to being visible.

Cindy had always been jealous of Marg’s perfect body. Her friend had worked hard to keep it that way, admittedly—her hours at the gym each week meant that her figure was well-earned.

She’d never been afraid to use it, either. Marg had always been happy to flirt with the server, try to score a discount or get them into an R-rated movie before they’d turned 17. All of her tops were low-cut, all of her skirts were short, and the flickering of eyes down to her cleavage was something she was completely used to.

There was a reason they’d picked Marg to play the prank on Alex. Her body was irresistible, and the teenager knew it.

Now, it seemed, Alex was turning that knowledge against her.

As Cindy watched, Marg made the rounds of the party, visibly getting more flushed as every eye turned towards her. After she’d briefly interacted with every group in every room, she picked a target—one of the football players Alex had somehow convinced to come to the party.

She beckoned for him to follow her, and a few minutes later, emerged with her lipstick smudged.

It didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened.

Cindy watched, bemused, as the pattern repeated itself. Marg would flirt with the room, somehow managing to simultaneously hit on everyone in it...and then direct her attention to one guy, and take him away from the party.

After a few hours, it seemed to Cindy as though Marg had managed to blow every guy there.

And that was when, to her alarm, Marg turned her attention towards Cindy herself.

“Hey...” she purred. Cindy looked at her in alarm—she’d once been so close with Marg that they’d considered themselves to be sisters. All of a sudden, it felt like she didn’t even recognize her.

“Hey...” Cindy said reluctantly. “How are you enjoying the, uh, party?”

Alex’s instructions to make sure everyone was having a good time were still ringing in her ears. Admittedly, Marg was doing more towards that than she was, but even as she watched her friends she’d been refilling drinks and making sure that no one was ever stranded alone in a corner.

“I’m having a wonderful time,” Marg replied, and Cindy couldn’t help but wonder if her voice had always had such a low, seductive quality to it. “How about you?”

“Uh...”

Before Cindy could gather the words for a response, Marg moved one finger up to her lips. Her soft, supple finger...

How many nights had Cindy spent, imagining those fingers on her skin, between her legs...

No. No, that was the collar talking. She was straight. She didn’t like women, she liked Alex. Her brother.

Wait. That wasn’t right either. Was it?

Cindy inhaled, and her eyes fluttered at the strong scent of pussy that she could detect on Marg’s finger. Had she played with herself, as she sucked off the men she’d been luring away from the party?

The image of Marg’s slender finger sliding past her lips, letting her suck on it, allowing her to taste her friend’s juices...Cindy couldn’t shake it, and it was a few seconds later before she realized Marg was waiting for a response.

“What?” she said, feeling dazed.

“I said how about we go and see how your brother is doing?”

_Yes!_ Cindy wanted to scream, but she slowly shook her head instead. Marg’s finger had moved from the collared girl’s lips to the side of her neck, and it was slowly tracing patterns up and down Cindy’s sensitive skin.

She wanted nothing more than for Marg to roughly grab her head and pull it to hers, but instead she stayed frozen, like a deer in headlights.

“If Alex wants us, he’ll call for us...” she mumbled. Marg smiled slowly, her red lips parting to reveal her perfect white teeth underneath. She leaned forward until her mouth was against her friend’s ear, and Cindy had to work hard not to tremble with arousal.

“It’s okay if we don’t find him...” she said, and stood up.

Despite the fact that Cindy was wearing the exact same French Maid costume as Marg (or a very similar one, at least), she still couldn’t take her eyes off her friend’s outfit.

It was like it had been designed with her in mind—it accentuated her curves, the black fabric contrasted perfectly with her lily-white skin, and the thong underwear she was wearing added a whole second level of teasing—where all of her other friends’ privates were winking in and out of view, just as you thought you were about to see everything Marg had on offer, the glimpse of fabric reminded you that there were still more secrets hidden underneath...

“I have to stay at the party,” Cindy weakly protested. Marg just smiled in response, and began walking towards the stairs.

“Come...” she said simply, and Cindy found herself getting up from the couch and following her friend upstairs.

Because of the collar? Or because she simply couldn’t resist her friend any more, couldn’t resist finally getting what she’d been dreaming of for so long?

Cindy was starting to not even care any more.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 16: The Party V

As soon as they were alone, Cindy shut her eyes and began to lean in. She could practically taste her friend’s skin. It was going to be exactly as she’d dreamed it would be…

No. Not dreamed. Imagined. Fantasized. No…

“Ew,” Marg said, and Cindy opened her eyes in confusion. Her former best friend was staring at her, disgusted.

“Uh…”

“Come on, Cindy. Whatever your brother has done to us means that I _have_ to perform for them…”

As she gestured to the party still raging outside, Cindy’s heart sank. Did this mean…

“But while we’re alone? No freaking way.”

“So you haven’t…”

“What?”

Cindy stared at her friend for a few more moments, her head spinning.

“What the hell are you talking about? Oh, and thanks a _bunch_ for warning us. What the fuck is wrong with your brother? What the fuck is wrong with _you_ that you’re going along with it?”

“I have to,” Cindy whimpered. “It’s…it’s the…”

“Oh really? So why were you just trying to kiss me, you pervert dyke.”

Cindy took half a step back as if shocked.

“I thought…”

“What?”

Marg’s eyes narrowed as she disdainfully looked Cindy up and down.

“You thought what, that I was enjoying this? That I _liked_ taking half the cocks at this god-awful party down my throat? Cindy, this is a literal nightmare. I have no control of my body—your brother said that I _had_ to get people off with my mouth, and this damned collar has given me no choice. I wasn’t sure if bringing you in here would work, but it looks like it has…now help me get this collar off, okay?”

“No…” Cindy said quietly, but Marg had already turned her back and didn’t hear the refusal.

“Come on!” the gorgeous teen said. “We have got to get the fuck out of here, okay?”

“I can’t,” Cindy said, louder, and Marg rolled her eyes.

“Well, thanks for trying. God damn it. You are so fucking useless.”

A half-smile appeared on Cindy’s face as Marg sighed and leaned against the wall of the den.

“Hey Marg…”

“What?”

As her former friend looked up, Cindy’s smile grew.

“…what?”

“Something you said.”

Marg’s eyes narrowed once more, and she leaned forward cautiously.

“ _What?_ ”

“You said my brother was making you bring people in here.”

“Obviously. God, have I ever sucked off half a party before?”

“And you said once they were in here, you had to get them off.”

“Yes, but…”

Marg took half a step back.

“Oh no. Oh _no_. You wouldn’t.”

A glint of cruelty entered Cindy’s eye as she leaned back and spread her legs.

“Your orders seem pretty clear…”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck you,” Marg whispered under her breath as she uncontrollably lunged forward, dropping to her knees and lifting the hem of Cindy’s dress.

Cindy twitched with pleasure as she felt her friend’s tongue make contact with her lips. She’d heard a few of the other party-goers discussing Marg’s talented mouth, and she was excited to experience it first-hand.

* * *

“Okay!” Cindy gasped fifteen minutes later, her voice trembling with pleasure. “That was…that was…wow.”

“Thanks,” Marg said sarcastically. “God, I can’t believe you just made me do that—you’re as bad as your sicko brother, you know that?”

Cindy glanced around the room, and drew Marg in close.

“I had to,” she whispered, and Marg stiffened. “You don’t understand how much control he has over me. But…”

“But what?” her friend responded nervously.

“You’re new. You…you might be able to undo my collar, and then I can undo yours.”

“Really?”

“He doesn’t have microphones in this room, but he might be watching. If you just start undoing it, he’ll work out what’s happening. We have to pretend we’re making out.”

Marg wrinkled her nose.

“Won’t he be suspicious that we just started randomly making out?”

“It’s like you said,” Cindy laughed softly in response. “He’s a perv.”

There was a long pause, and Cindy could hear Marg’s breath in her ear, could feel her trembling slightly with fear.

“Okay,” Marg said. “You can…”

She sighed.

“You can kiss me.”

With a smile, Cindy leaned in. Despite Marg’s obvious reluctance, it was everything she’d imagined. Tremors of pleasure were still pulsing through her body after the performance of Marg’s talented tongue, and she could taste her own juices on her friend’s lips.

After several minutes of their soft tongues wrestling, Cindy pulled back slightly.

“Now,” she murmured, and as Marg’s hands moved up her spine towards the brown-haired girl’s neck, she leaned in and fervently resumed the kiss.

Just as Marg was about to reach the collar’s clasp, she twitched with pleasure.

“Oh!” she cried out, pulling away from the kiss and running her hands up and down Cindy’s back.

“What are you doing?” Cindy asked with a secret smile. “Undo my collar.”

“Oh yes,” Marg said thickly, her eyes clouded over with lust. “Of…of course.”

Again, before her hands could reach the clasp, Cindy leaned into the kiss and slipped her tongue into Marg’s mouth. Again, a shudder of arousal passed through the busty girl’s body.

“Oh please…” she panted, and kissed Cindy more passionately than she had all evening.

After several minutes of making out, Cindy pulled away.

“You can do it…” she said, and Marg nodded. Biting her lip with nervousness, she reached for the collar a third and final time…but before she could reach it, Cindy stroked the front of Marg’s thong panties, and she found herself dropping to her knees in orgasm.

Cindy watched with a thin smile as Marg uncontrollably came on the floor in front of her. As her hips bucked and her eyes fluttered, Cindy slipped out of the room.

Alex would want to know about his newest servant’s disloyalty and attempts to escape. And perhaps…perhaps she would be rewarded for telling him.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](http://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 17: The Party VI

As Cindy, Marg, and Alex made their way back into the party, Cindy couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

She’d hoped that Alex would be more grateful for the news of her friend’s attempt to escape, but he’d just nodded, and ordered her to lead him to Marg.

It was hard to say exactly _what_ Cindy had been expecting…getting to blow him was probably a bit much to ask for, especially when he had four new buxom servants to get him off whenever he pleased. She would have been happy with a simple “Good girl”, or a pat on the head.

As it was, watching Marg’s punishment for insubordination would have to be reward enough.

Cindy decided she would be keeping a close eye on her former friends henceforth. As much as she might secretly wish for them to escape Alex’s grasp, leaving only her to service his every need, she knew that wasn’t what her brother wanted. She knew that if she served him well, he was sure to appreciate it.

She sat at her brother’s feet as he gave Marg her instructions.

“Remove your dress,” he said, and Marg let out a soft moan in response. Cindy wondered if she’d been instructed to act that way, or if she was faking it…

Or maybe Cindy’s reactions to Alex’s commands _weren’t_ unusual, and there was just something about being ordered around by him that brought out an uncontrollable lust in people.

Maybe she and Marg were _both_ naturally submissive, and were simply turned on by the knowledge that they weren’t in control of their own actions.

“Now put the apron back on.”

Marg tremblingly nodded in response, and soon she stood in front of Alex wearing just her stockings, heels, apron, cap, thong…and, of course, her collar.

“If anyone wants a photo with you, you’ll let them. If anyone wants to touch your tits—or suck them—you’ll allow it. I want you out there dancing, twerking, shaking your tits…and if anyone spills a drink, you’ll get on all fours to clean it up. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Marg responded through gritted teeth. Cindy couldn’t tell if she was furious…or aroused.

“If anyone asks you what’s happening or why you’re doing it, tell them…”

Alex’s eyes glinted as a wicked smile crossed his face.

“Tell them anything you like. Anything except the truth.”

Again, Marg nodded. Cindy considered mentioning that ‘except the truth’ was a fairly broad instruction…but considering that this was her punishment for attempting to escape, Cindy was fairly sure that Marg wouldn’t do anything to risk further discipline.

* * *

When the five maids had first entered the party, the room had gone silent. Since then the party had grown, the drinks had flowed—there were more people, and the crowd was getting considerably rowdier.

Still, when Marg—widely accepted to be the hottest girl in school—walked in topless, the chatter again screeched to a halt.

Cindy stood behind Marg, worried about the smug look on her friend’s face that she’d noticed as they walked down the hallway.

“Alex…” she said quietly, and he held up one finger.

“Shhh,” he said with a smile. “I want to watch this.”

“Hey everyone!” Marg said arrogantly, unable to resist throwing a proud glance at the brother and sister standing behind her. “See this collar around my neck?”

“Oh, shit…” Cindy murmured.

“I will send printed nude photos of myself to the first person who helps me…”

Cindy’s eyes widened as Marg gestured to to the collar. She knew her friend didn’t have any nude photos laying around, so whatever she was going to offer could absolutely be defined as ‘not the truth’.

“The first person who helps me…”

Marg’s smug look disappeared, and her eyes went slightly glassy.

“…the first person who helps me get off.”

Her tone went from husky to aroused, and by the time she regained focus, there was a rush of eager party-goers (both guys and girls) heading her way.

“Oh, shit,” Marg said, so quietly that only Cindy and her brother could hear her. Cindy looked up at her brother adoringly—he really did think of everything.

A pang of disappointment hit her when she realized he had eyes only for her friend, who was in the process of being crudely pawed at by half the party. Marg briefly made eye-contact with Cindy, her eyes filled with fear. Cindy just tilted her head to the side in response.

Served the bitch right.

“I was just kidding!” Marg said—obviously another lie. “Oh god…this is all a prank! I’m getting paid to do this! This is just a prank!”

Her protests died down as the mob swamped her, and were soon replaced with the high-pitched squeal of an unwilling orgasm.

Cindy continued to circulate, making sure that everyone was having a good time.

Jazz, Ally, and Sasha had been working the party for a few hours now, and had clearly gotten into the swing of it. Ally’s entire face was glistening, and the girls waiting to be serviced by her had actually formed a queue.

Jazz was so relaxed that Cindy barely recognized her—she (like most of the party) had been enthralled by Marg’s entrance. Even without being instructed, Jazz was beginning to remove her dress as well.

Sasha had clearly made through all of Alex’s friends, and was desperately trying to find anyone who even loosely fit that definition.

As the party wrapped up, Cindy sat beside her brother, watching her friends strip and seduce party-goers. As the most clothed of the maids, Cindy was disappointed that she was getting barely any attention…but she wouldn’t dream of removing her maid outfit without her brother’s permission, and his focus was squarely on her friends.

By the time the party wrapped up, Sasha was practically coated in cum, Ally’s mouth was hanging open from exhaustion, Jazz was laying on the couch, cooing at men to get their attention (and occasionally being rewarded by an orgasm-inducing wink), and Marg had danced with or serviced almost everyone at the party.

The final guests began to file out, and Alex summoned his maids. Cindy could practically taste the fury and hatred emanating from each of them (except Jazz, who didn’t have the energy)…but on the surface they were four smiling, obedient maids.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Alex said. “The bathtub probably isn’t big enough to fit all of you…but we can damn well try. Then meet me in my bedroom.”

“Yes, master,” the girls chorused, and Cindy’s heart leapt as Alex turned to her.

“And sis?”

“Yes, master?”

“Clean up this mess, will you?”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 18: Visits

It had been five weeks since Alex had fucked her. It had been three weeks since he’d even checked out her tits. Hell, it had been almost six days since he’d made eye contact.

No matter what she did, she couldn’t attract her attention.

Not now that he had her friends.

It seemed like there was always at least one of them at the house. Cindy sometimes wondered if there was some kind of schedule.

Marg seemed to be his favorite.

_I used to be his favorite,_ Cindy thought to herself.

Marg was there almost every day. Their Mom didn’t question it; she thought Marg was there to hang out with Cindy. And whenever her Mom was present, that was what it looked like. The two of them, sitting in the living space, chatting and laughing like they used to.

“It seems this collar thing has caught on,” Cindy’s Mom mentioned once, and the two girls laughed it off, hoping that the panic in their eyes wasn’t obvious.

As soon as she was out of the room, however, things were different.

Marg would fall silent and head straight into Alex’s room, removing her clothes as she did. It was Cindy’s job to pick them up, of course. She would collect them, fold them neatly, and keep them in her own bedroom.

She’d keep them as she heard Marg’s cries of pleasure.

She’d keep them as she wished desperately that it was her in there.

It had been so long.

Once they were done, Alex would parade Marg around, like he owned her. Which, in a sense, Cindy had to admit he did.

Marg would be allowed to wear panties, but her huge tits—the tits that had been the start of this whole mess—were always on display, often covered in Alex’s drying cum.

Once or twice Alex had his sister lick the cum off, enjoying the look of pleasure on Cindy’s face as she got to taste her brother’s cum again, but more and more he was enjoying having Marg keep his spunk on her chest, on display.

Marking his territory, Cindy supposed. As if the collar wasn’t enough.

Whenever Cindy and Marg were alone, Marg would express to her ex best friend how much she hated the situation, how much she hated being Alex’s property.

How much she hated the squealing orgasms he brought her to.

Cindy didn’t like hearing the negativity about her brother, but she did enjoy the company. Alex barely spoke to her any more, and she didn’t converse with her mother much. She was too worried about where the conversation would lead.

Sasha mostly came around when Alex’s friends were over. She and Cindy would serve as waitresses, getting the boys drinks and snacks, taking care of their every need.

Well, Sasha would take care of their every need. Cindy wasn’t sure what Alex had told his friends, but they’d apparently come to accept the fact that if they wanted to get off, Sasha was more than happy to accommodate them. After half an hour of flirting and teasing, Cindy would be asked to leave. After an hour or two, Sasha would emerge, a smile plastered to her face, reeking of cum.

Cindy wanted to beg her brother to let her join in, to allow her to fuck his friends. Not that she actually wanted them, of course—they were all such _nerds_. But maybe the sight of his friends’ cocks pounding into her every hole would remind Alex of what a good slut she could be for him, what an obedient sister she was. Maybe he’d get hard at the sight of her being used by three guys at once.

Maybe he’d fuck her. Maybe he’d use her as his own personal fuckhole again.

Or at the very least, maybe he’d smile at her.

But instead, she would mill around the house, keeping lookout and finding tasks to do; anything that she could think of to make Alex happy.

Jazz was the friend that Cindy saw the most of. She wasn’t there as often as the others, but Alex never made her leave when Jazz was around. Instead, Cindy was kept busy—tying knots, lubing up toys, and then cleaning everything after they were done.

Cindy wondered if Jazz had been into BDSM before the collar. Was Alex tapping into their natural desires, heightening them, making sure the girls had a good time? It was hard for the Cindy to accept the idea that these thoughts and feeling she was having had been entirely implanted by her collar—maybe, on some level, she’d always been attracted to her brother.

Maybe she was naturally submissive.

Maybe she was a true slut.

Either way, Jazz _really_ enjoyed being tied up and played with. Sometimes Alex would have Cindy hold a vibrator so close to Jazz’s clit that she could feel the air buzzing, but never allow it to touch. Jazz seemed to go crazy for it, thrashing against her ropes, desperately begging Alex for more.

Not Cindy, even when she was the one holding the toy. Always Alex.

How much of it was the collar, and how much of it was just…Jazz?

Ally only came around when another of Cindy’s friends was there. Occasionally Alex would fuck her, but mostly he just liked watching her play with the other girls. Ally never seemed happier than when her face was between Sasha’s legs, or when she was sucking on Marg’s enormous tits, or when she was spanking Jazz to another orgasm.

Cindy and Ally made out a few times, but after the first few visits, Alex stopped requesting it. Before long, Cindy was outside, only able to listen to Ally pleasuring her friends, warming them up for Alex.

One time, Cindy’s mother had caught her mopping. She’d shot her daughter a strange look when she’d learned that she was cleaning while two of her friends were over, but a follow-up conversation never came.

She had wondered if she would be disciplined for getting caught, but to her disappointment, her punishment had never come.

Alex hadn’t even seemed to notice.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 19: Meetings with the Manager

A part of Cindy had hoped that after her four best friends were enslaved by her brother, it would bring the five of them closer again. Like the good old days.

Instead, it somehow managed to further ostracize her, as if they resented her for allowing it to happen…or as if they had decided to reflect their master’s attitude towards his sister.

And so Cindy spent a lot of time alone, watching her former friends from across the cafeteria. She noticed as their clothing choices became sluttier and sluttier, highlighting their best features. She couldn’t remember the last time Marg had worn a top that didn’t show off her incredible cleavage—she could cause a traffic jam in the corridor just by breathing too heavily.

Jazz’s strongest feature was her legs, and so she was always in heels and the shortest skirts that the school’s dress-code would allow. She somehow managed to avoid ever hiding them under desks or tables—they were always out to the side, crossed, ready to be admired.

Ally was never seen out of yoga pants, or other form-fitting pants that highlighted her perfect butt. Any time she got the chance, she’d bend over and wiggle slightly, just enough to attract the attention of anyone passing by.

And Sasha…well, Sasha was the most blatant of them all. Not in her choice of dress, but in her outrageously flirty manner. Her outfits were basically the same as what she’d always worn, but it was impossible to avoid thinking about sex while talking to her.

The breathy way she spoke, the way her eyes danced with lust as she looked at you, the way her hands would touch yours, caressing and massaging and making you imagine them roaming over the rest of your body.

One teacher had given her a detention for the way she held a pencil. At the end of the detention, Cindy figured the teacher had been punished far more than Sasha. An hour alone with her was enough to make anyone ready to burst with frustration and arousal.

Cindy’s collar had stopped compelling her to dress in any particular way, but she continued to pick out clothes that she thought her brother would approve of; outfits ranging from “acceptably slutty” to “young lady, go home and change!”

She thought he enjoyed what she wore. She hoped he did, anyway. But after a full month without him so much as glancing over her outfit, she’d tried wearing a baggy sweatshirt, just to see what he’d say.

He hadn’t noticed.

After that, Cindy had stopped trying. She just threw on the first thing she saw of a morning, except for the days she was working at Hooters. There, she made sure to wear—and do—whatever got her the biggest tips.

Alex needed the money, after all.

Two weeks passed before Cindy realized she was depressed. Without her brother’s attention, what joy did her life bring? Sometimes she would lay on her bed and fantasize about the early days, when she’d just gotten the collar. When Alex would have her crawl across the floor and service him. When he’d fucked her before each Hooter’s shift, or had her walk around naked as a punishment.

Now, everything seemed so pointless.

She started masturbating before her shift at Hooters, trying to get herself worked up enough that she’d be horny and flirty, but it didn’t work. The only thing that turned her on was thinking about Alex or Marg. Thinking about Alex just reminded her of how good it had all been, and thinking of Marg made her eyes fill with jealous tears.

The worst moment was when her manager brought her into his office berate her. _God,_ she thought, _what if I get fired from Hooters?_

_As if I don’t feel pathetic enough._

She just nodded in response to his complaints, and apologized when he was done. To her surprise, a warm note entered her boss’s voice.

“Hey, Cindy—what’s wrong?”

Cindy looked up. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, someone was looking at her. Her boss was _looking_ at her. He was looking at _her_.

She felt seen. She opened her mouth, about to answer him honestly, when she realized how dangerous that could be. What if someone found out about Alex?

She closed her mouth and looked back at the floor.

“Boy troubles?” he asked, her second surprise of the day.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she silently nodded.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her in for a hug. She relaxed into the hug for a moment, but soon stiffened.

His hands had moved up to her chest, and were crudely caressing her breasts.

“There there,” he said comfortingly, as he pawed at her top. “There’s my good girl.”

_I need this job,_ she reminded herself. _I need this job for Alex._

At the end of her next shift, her manager called her back into his office. This time, she stood there silently as his hands moved up her top. The shift after that, he positioned her hand onto his erection. Cindy wondered if he noticed her tears as she jerked him off.

But it wasn’t until the next shift that she realized this wasn’t going away. He reached down her bright orange shorts and discovered her wetness. Cindy bucked against him as he his fingers curled inside her. She came, for the first time in months.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed being touched.

Cindy wondered if she should tell Alex. Maybe it would make him jealous and possessive, and he’d start to use her again to establish his dominance. Maybe he’d be furious, and he’d punish her.

Or maybe he just wouldn’t care.

Before her next shift, she made a plan. She was going to get herself turned on, horny, just like Alex used to do. If she did that, her tips would increase, and her manager would have no cause to call her into his office. He’d be happy with her work, and she’d be able to go home unmolested.

But while her intentions were good, her body still wouldn’t react. _I wasn’t even turned on the other day when I came,_ Cindy realized.

After fifteen minutes of touching herself, she remembered something. Back when she’d first been collared, every time she’d tried to take the collar off, it had sent a jolt of uncontrollable arousal through her body. She could use that to get turned on, then play with herself until she was right on the verge of orgasm.

With the first glimmer of excitement she could remember having in a long while, Cindy reached up, found the clasp to her collar…

…and removed it without issue.

After her shift that day, Cindy came twice as her manager fucked her.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 20: Visiting Marg

“Where’s Marg?” Jazz asked.

It took Cindy a moment to realize that her ex-friend was talking to her.

“What?”

Ally rolled her eyes.

“God, are you as stupid as you are stupid? Where. Is. Marg?”

“Oh, I…”

Cindy looked around the cafeteria. Sure enough, Marg wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Cindy hadn’t noticed.

Of course, she hadn’t been noticing much lately. She’d hoped that something would change when she removed her collar, that maybe her old life would magically come back.

Nope.

It seemed that her theory was right. Alex hadn’t changed her, not really. He’d just unlocked what was inside her all along. She continued to crave his attention, but he never even looked at her any more.

He hadn’t even noticed that her collar was gone.

“Hello?”

“Oh! Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Great. I told you this would be useless.”

Sasha flicked her hair back, in a way that made drew Cindy’s attention to her perfect neck. God, she just wanted to bite it…

She blinked twice. Where had _that_ thought come from? Now, she knew for sure:

It wasn’t the collar.

It was her.

“Sorry,” she repeated.

“Oh!” Jazz said, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe Alex will know!”

At the mention of Cindy’s little brother, a dreamy look came across all of the girl’s faces. Including, Cindy quickly realized, her own.

“Of course he will,” she said, hoping to ingratiate herself. “Let’s go find him now—he’ll be in the Junior Cafeteria.”

A thrill went through Cindy’s body as she led the group to where she knew her brother hung out. He was surrounded by friends—his social standing had considerably risen in the school since his party, and Sasha’s regular presence at his house had helped maintain his newfound popularity.

“Hey ladies,” Alex said, and another thrill ran through Cindy’s body at the words, one that she couldn’t blame on the collar.

She wasn’t sure whether that should make her feel better or worse.

“Hey Alex,” Sasha purred, slinking onto his lap. “We were worried.”

“What’s up?”

“Well, Marg hasn’t been at school all day. Have you seen her?”

“Of course I have,” Alex said, grabbing Sasha by the waist and standing her up. “You want to come see where she is?”

“Yes!” Cindy’s friends chimed in unison. She noticed the looks of admiration Alex was getting from the rest of the cafeteria. Her brother’s stock was climbing fast.

“Uh…” she said, hating to be the dissident in the group. “Shouldn’t we…you know. School?”

“Sure thing,” Alex said, not even glancing back at her. “You stay here.”

Cindy briefly chewed on her lip, before running after the group.

“Wait for me!”

* * *

Ally entertained herself on the ride over by getting Jazz off using only one finger. Alex drove and Sasha played with his cock. Not enough to make him cum, just enough to keep him hard for the whole trip.

Cindy sat in the back, watching the two girls beside her, and lustfully gazing at her brother’s cock.

God she missed it.

But when they pulled up, the sexual energy of the car began to waver.

“Alex…this is…”

“A strip club,” he said confidently. “Get out.”

Despite the fact that she was no longer collared, Cindy hastened to obey. The four girls walked in a line behind Alex, Cindy at the rear.

“Won’t we need ID?” Cindy mumbled, but the rest of the group either ignored or didn’t hear her.

At the door, the bouncer smiled at the sight of them.

“Alex!” he cried, reaching out to fist-bump the high-school boy. “You bringing some more dancers for us?”

“Maybe,” Alex said with a wink. “Ladies…after you.”

The girls walked with slouched shoulders, their heads down. The strip club was almost entirely empty, but the three or four patrons who were there in the middle of a weekday were sitting at the front, eagerly watching the dancer as she removed her pants.

Cindy immediately recognized her.

Marg.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Ally gasped, and for a moment Cindy wondered if she could save her friends. She was no longer collared—she could rip her friends’ collars off. They’d be free!

Of course…Alex wouldn’t like that.

She fell back, and watched silently as Marg stripped down until she was wearing nothing but her collar.

It was hard to tell from a distance—was Marg dancing enthusiastically because she liked it, or because she’d been commanded to? Cindy’s best friend had always enjoyed showing off her body, but…dropping out of school to become a stripper? That wasn’t what Marg truly wanted, was it?

Was it?

As the five of them watched Marg cavort across the stage, masterfully doing everything she could to coax as many tips as possible from the patrons, Alex filled them in on the rest of his plan.

“This is just while she gets her skills up, of course.”

_Seems pretty skilled to me,_ Cindy thought to herself. Of course, she wouldn’t say anything out loud. Alex was speaking.

“When she’s better, they’re going to put her on at nights. Prime time. Saturday, Sunday nights. That’s where the real money is.”

“And then she’ll be able to come back to school?”

Cindy was relieved to discover that she hadn’t been the one to ask the question; it had been Jasmine.

No, Jasmine sounded wrong now, too formal.

She was Jazz.

“No,” Alex said, and shot her such a scornful look that Cindy felt embarrassed on her friend’s behalf. “No, I’ve found her a day job. There’s a website where you can hire women for topless services; bartending, waitressing at a fancy party, maid work. That kind of thing. She’ll do that during the day, and strip at night.”

“Oh,” Sasha said, and the group once again fell silent.

Cindy knew that she should feel bad for her friend. Marg had been planning on going to Yale. Now, she’d be using her body, and probably not even seeing the proceeds. When she wasn’t able to get by on her looks any more, she’d have nothing—no qualifications, no career, no savings.

Cindy knew that she _should_ feel bad for her friend. But she couldn’t.

All she could think about was how busy Marg’s new job would keep her. Suddenly, there was one less competitor for her brother’s affections…

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 21: Motherly Concern

Cindy’s mother was waiting for her when she got home from work.

She didn’t look happy.

Cindy wasn’t exactly glowing either. She was still sore from her shift; her manager had kept her behind after work for more than an hour, and now all she wanted was a hot shower and a long sleep.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She also wanted to find her brother and see if he needed anything.

_Anything_.

But it had been more than a month since he’d asked her to do something (let alone _ordered_ her) and she wasn’t too hopeful. She spent her days keeping the house clean, earning money for him, keeping an eye on her friends, and praying that one of these days he’d grab her by the hair, throw her down on the bed, and fuck her until she blacked out.

A girl could dream, after all.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“Cindy, where have you been?”

“I’ve been out at Marg’s,” she lied. Her mother didn’t know about her job. It would have been too hard to explain.

They weren’t a religious family, but they’d always been expected to carry themselves with a certain decorum. For months, Cindy had endured increasingly disapproving looks from her mother, but she’d never said anything. Now that she’d stopped wearing slutty clothing around the house, her mother’s attitude had softened.

So what was wrong?

“Sit down,” her mother said, and Cindy obeyed immediately, a slight thrill running through her body as she did.

_God,_ she thought. _Am I so submissive that obeying my _mother_ is enough to turn me on?_

The pulse between her legs quickly answered the question for her.

“I just got a call from the principal,” her mother said, and Cindy’s mind started racing. Was Alex in trouble?? She hadn’t seen him in hours now. Maybe he was hurt. Maybe he needed her!

“He said that Marg hasn’t been in school lately.”

“That’s right,” Cindy stalled. She couldn’t tell her mother, but…could she?

Could Cindy tell her mother everything? Maybe she’d intervene. Maybe she’d get the collars removed from Cindy’s friends. Maybe she’d get Marg’s life back on-track, leaving Alex all to his sister.

Maybe she’d find out how cruel Alex had been to his sister, and order him to fuck her twice a day as penance. He’d never ignore her again, and she’d be allowed to serve him twenty-four hours a day…

Cindy blinked twice. That seemed unlikely.

She tuned back into what her mother was saying.

“…and while it’s completely legal, I’m sure you can understand that I’m shocked. She had such a promising future!”

“Uh huh,” Cindy nodded, not following at all.

“I just wanted to make sure that you had nothing to do with it.”

“Of course not,” Cindy said, trying to force a smile to her lips.

“Obviously I don’t want to risk anything happening to you, so from now on, I’d rather you didn’t consort with this…girl.”

What?

“In fact, it might be best if your friends stopped coming around altogether. You really need to focus on school right now, and I’m worried that you and Alex are getting distracted.”

“What??”

“Now now, you’ll still see them at school. Except Marg, of course, but I rather think that might be for the best.”

“But…”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how they tease your poor brother. And they all dress so…”

Cindy’s mother trailed off. She reached out and lightly touched her daughter’s neck.

To her shock, Cindy found a tear rolling down her cheek. It had been so long since someone had touched her so gently, so tenderly…

She resisted the urge to press her lips against her mother’s, and nodded in response.

“I’m sure you’ll agree with me, this is for the best.”

“Yes, mother.”

* * *

Alex was furious when Cindy told him. He stormed back and forth, and for a moment Cindy was filled with hope. Maybe he’d throw her across his lap and spank her until she couldn’t breathe. Maybe he’d angrily fuck her, roughly, not caring about her pleasure one iota. Maybe he’d choke her, wrap his hands around her neck until she passed out.

God, she just wanted to be _used_.

Instead, he stomped back and forth, barely noticing that she was there. Still, just being around his masculine energy was enough to keep her pussy thrumming. He was so powerful. So dominant. She couldn’t believe all the wasted years she’d spent looking at other men, cumming while thinking about anyone who wasn’t her brother.

He’d been here all along, and she’d been too stupid to notice.

Finally, he sat down on the bed, a smile slowly creeping across his face.

Cindy’s heart leapt. Her brother had a plan.

Maybe he’d spit in her mouth to celebrate.

* * *

When Cindy woke up the next morning, she couldn’t help but smile.

Alex hadn’t fucked her. He hadn’t even noticed as she quivered with excitement.

But, as he’d sat down at his computer to get to work, he’d thanked her.

“Thanks.”

One word. One simple, beautiful word.

But it had been for _her_. It had been _her_ thanks, to show his gratitude.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

She got dressed with a skip in her step. That morning, Cindy dressed for her mother’s disapproval—a pair of form-fitting yoga pants, a black sports bra, and nothing else. She was going to go for a jog before school—maybe if she was more in shape, Alex would be more likely to check her out.

If her friends were no longer coming over, maybe he’d get so desperate that he’d even stare at her ass again.

As she entered the kitchen, she instantly realized something was amiss. It was Thursday, and her mother was cooking pancakes. Her mother only ever cooked pancakes on weekends.

The blood drained from Cindy’s face as she noticed what else was different. Her mother was wearing a black skirt, thigh-high boots, a white button-up shirt with no bra on…

…and a collar.

“Good morning pumpkin,” she beamed. “Care for some pancakes?”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 22: Motherly Concern II

“Yoo hoo! Cindy!”

Cindy’s eyes widened, and her face turned beet-red. That…it couldn’t be…

Surely…

Yup. It was.

“Mom?”

Sitting in a booth by the window was her mother, waving excitedly. She was wearing a new blue dress—she must have gone shopping again. The top showed off more cleavage than Cindy had even realized her mother _had_. And was that a new pair of boots?

And, of course, her collar.

It had taken Cindy a few days to realize: her mother didn’t know.

Unlike Cindy and her friends, she genuinely thought it was all her idea. Her new clothes, the pancakes, her change in attitude. She hadn’t even seemed to question where the thoughts were coming from.

She hadn’t linked them to the collar.

“Mom, what are you _doing_ here?”

“Alex told me that you worked here—I had no idea!”

To her absolute horror, a wave of pleasure hit Cindy, as her mother’s eyes ran up and down her daughter’s body.

“God…”

Her former austerity now completely gone, Cindy’s mother reached out and gently touched her side.

Cindy desperately wished that the feeling didn’t turn her on so much.

“I can’t believe it. My own daughter.”

The Hooter’s waitress squinted slightly, trying to read her mother’s tone. Was that…approval? Disgust?

Her mother spoke so softly, Cindy could barely hear her.

“…what a _slut_.”

The teenage girl’s cheeks burned red as her mother sneered at her daughter. Judging her.

Accurately.

She _was_ dressed like a slut. As often as she could get a shift (which was now basically every time her manager was in), she would dress up like a slut, and parade herself for men’s approval.

“What can I get you, Mom?”

Her mother was looking around the room, admiring the other women. Her hand suddenly shot up to her own neck; as soon as her fingers reached the soft black leather of her collar, she relaxed, and gripped it lightly.

“I can finally see why all you girls were wearing these,” she mentioned. “It’s _cute_ , isn’t it?”

“It sure is, Mom.”

“Maybe…”

Cindy’s eyes narrowed as her mother’s voice took on a soft, dreamy quality.

“Maybe you should get some for the other girls here. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Cindy hesitated. What was she was saying? Before she could respond, her mother snapped back to attention, her voice strong and clear.

“What happened to _yours_ , darling?”

“I think I lost it, Mom.”

“Of course you did.”

She didn’t say the word ‘worthless’, but it was implied in her tone.

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Cindy.”

A chill ran down Cindy’s spine as she realized that they weren’t alone.

“Well well,” her manager said softly, a voice that haunted her dreams and woke her up soaking wet. “I didn’t realize you had a sister.”

Cindy’s mother laughed at that, longer and louder than she should have. She accepted a kiss on the hand from her daughter’s manager, and flirted back.

“You must be furious at my daughter,” her mother joked after a few minutes of conversation. Again, ‘worthless’ was implied but not spoken. “Spending so much time on just one table!”

“Don’t worry,” her manager said with an easy smile. “I’ll be sure to punish her later.”

Cindy wondered if her mother had noticed that her manager’s hand hadn’t left her ass for the entire conversation.

Or whether, if she had, she would have cared.

* * *

After the visit from Hooters, her mother’s disapproval returned. Unlike her old glances of disgust, however, now her mother would glare at her when Cindy’s outfits weren’t revealing _enough_.

One morning, Cindy had slumped downstairs in a sweatshirt and a pair of ill-fitting jeans.

“Really, Cindy,” she said, her voice thick with disappointment. “Why hide it?”

“Uh…what?”

“It’s not enough that you’ve lost your collar, but now you’re trying to mask who you really are. _What_ you really are.”

Cindy stood silently as her mother continued, getting more frantic by the word.

“You don’t deserve to hide your skin. You don’t deserve to hide your body from the world—that’s for good girls. That’s for decent, respectful girls. Not for you. You’re nothing but a…but a…”

Her mother took a deep breath, and said the word with…reverence, almost.

“ _Slut_.”

“Yes, mother.”

“You’re nothing but a dirty little slut, are you?”

“No, mother.”

“Little slut,” her mother muttered, her eyes flashing. “Dirty, filthy little slut. Say it.”

“Mom…”

“ _Say it._ ”

“I’m a slut,” Cindy repeated, horrified at the words coming out of her mouth.

They were true, of course, but she’d never _said_ them.

“Again.”

“I’m a slut. I’m a dirty little slut”

Her mother sat back, satisfied, a sort of glow radiating from her.

“Go upstairs and change, this instant.”

“Mom…”

“Now!” her mother snapped, with such authority in her voice that Cindy was halfway up the stairs before she even realized what she was doing.

When she got back to her room, she closed her door and—for the first time in a long time—lay down on the bed and began touching herself.

There was just something so _hot_ about being ordered around…about being told what to do, what to wear.

About being told that she was a slut.

As she came, she finally admitted it to herself: she was a natural submissive. She wasn’t even _wearing_ the collar any more, she’d never been attracted to her mother before, but…

As soon as she was given a command, it sent sparks straight to her pussy.

Over the next few weeks, Cindy’s relationship with her mother continued to intensify. If she did anything that her mother didn’t approve of, she’d be snapped at, told off…

…and, before long, spanked.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 23: Motherly Concern III

Cindy hadn’t been spanked since Alex had first leashed her.

She’d forgotten how much she loved it.

The first time it happened, she wasn’t even sure what she’d done wrong. Perhaps one of her hairs had been out of place, or she hadn’t finished a glass of water quickly enough. Her mother’s ranting tirades were triggered by the smallest things.

Whatever she’d done, her mother’s eyes had flashed, and Cindy had braced herself, prepared for another torrent of verbal abuse.

She could feel herself growing wet in anticipation.

But instead of the string of insults, her mother had beckoned for her to come closer.

“You know I love you,” she’d said softly, taking Cindy completely off-guard. Typically, her mother would start with a low-grade insult. As she got more and more worked up, the insults would grow more extreme—before long, she’d be screaming at Cindy, calling her a whore, practically frothing at the mouth.

“Uh…”

“Come here,” she’d said, patting the seat next to hers gently. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

“O-of course,” Cindy stammered, sitting beside her mother. What was happening?

“But you’re just not learning,” she said. Cindy’s heart was racing. “You’re not learning. I don’t know why. You might just be too stupid.”

This was a familiar train of thought. Calling her daughter a stupid whore, not good for anything but serving men—Cindy would never have imagined these words coming out of her mother’s mouth a few months ago. Now, it felt as normal as ‘how was school, dear?’

“There’s only one thing I can do,” she said gently, and Cindy nodded.

“Yes, mother.”

“Good girl,” she muttered, and Cindy was shocked to find her eyes welling up with tears. She wanted to be a good girl, more than anything. She didn’t know if that was a desire that had been implanted into her by the collar, or if it had always been a part of her. Maybe that was why she’d always craved popularity, the acceptance of her peers.

Perhaps all she’d ever wanted, really, was for people to approve of her.

“Lay down on Mommy’s lap,” the older woman said softly, and Cindy scrambled to obey before she’d even processed what was happening.

Oh, god.

Oh god, _no_.

SMACK.

Cindy arched her back in pain. She’d thought that her brother’s spankings had been punishing, but her mother wasn’t holding back. Lifting Cindy’s mini-skirt, her hand was meeting the flesh of her daughter’s ass, clearly displayed by the thong she was wearing.

Cindy’s mother truly wanted to discipline her daughter, to teach her to be a better person. And she was completely convinced that it was all her own idea. Why would she hold back?

As Cindy shuddered, arousal and pain coursing through her body, she realized that…in a sense, this was her mother’s way of showing love. She wanted Cindy to improve. She wanted Cindy to stop being such a dirty little slut.

Or perhaps she wanted her to be _more_ of a little slut. It was hard to say.

SMACK.

Cindy couldn’t help herself—she let out a loud, long moan as the pain spread throughout her body. Her ass was on fire. Her pussy was on fire, too, in a different way.

She wanted more.

SMACK.

Cindy was panting heavily, moaning loudly. To an outside observer, her heaving sighs could have been a cry of pain.

SMACK.

“I’m gonna cum!” she gasped, horrified at her own reaction. Her entire body began twitching and convulsing as she felt her orgasm beginning to crescendo. She’d never cum without touching herself before—she hadn’t known it was possible.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Whether it was to punish her for slutty behavior or to bring on her orgasm even faster, Cindy’s mother doubled her efforts, her hand raining down on her teenage daughter’s ass. Cindy wanted nothing more than for her mother to rip her thong off, to insert two fingers into her wet, slutty pussy.

But she wouldn’t. She knew she wouldn’t. All she’d do was spank her, like the nasty slut that she was.

Like the nasty slut her brother had made her into.

Cindy spasmed in orgasm, guttural sounds emerging from her mouth as she shook with pleasure.

“Good girl,” her mother said tenderly, gently stroking her hair. “Good girl.”

* * *

After that, Cindy’s mother began overseeing every part of her daughter’s life. Cindy again found herself responsible for every chore in the house—but now, her mother would check her work. If so much as a glass pane was smudged, she’d pull Cindy across her lap and spank her to orgasm.

When she found her daughter’s French Maid outfit, she insisted that she begin to wear it as she took care of the household cleaning, cooking, gardening—if it needed to be done, Cindy was doing it under her mother’s direct supervision.

She even started coming into Cindy’s work and critiquing how she flirted with the customers, or telling her to watch her posture as she served. They’d run drills at home—Cindy would serve her mother the food she’d spent several hours cooking, and if her service (or the food) wasn’t good enough, her mother would throw it onto the floor and make her lick it up.

Cindy would be throbbing with pleasure by the time the house was spotless again.

Her manager _loved_ her mother’s visits. On days when her mother came in, she knew that she’d be staying behind for at least ninety minutes after her shift end. He even tossed around the idea of having her train some of the other girls—Cindy took a perverse pride in knowing that she was quickly becoming the restaurant’s highest-earner.

She would have blown the customers if it meant more money for her brother.

Every day, Cindy focused on obeying her mother—she wasn’t Alex, of course, but she was a strong figure who gave her clear, direct instructions, and punished her if she didn’t meet a high standard. It was everything she’d ever wanted.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 24: Visiting Marg II

The room was packed, but Alex had still managed to get them seats at the very front.

It was Saturday night. The music was louder than Cindy had expected, with a strong beat that felt like it pulsed through her entire body.

She wondered if her mother had thought that _this_ was her idea. The night out, the three of them going together…

…the revealing black dress.

After all, she’d managed to convince herself that Cindy wearing a maid’s costume at home was her idea. And her daughter doing all the housework, all the cooking and cleaning, while working studying and working almost full-time…if she thought that was all her idea, this couldn’t have been much harder.

Or maybe, Cindy sometimes wondered, it _was_ her mother’s idea. Maybe her mother had seen how submissive she was, how much she loved to serve, to show off her body to her brother.

Maybe the way her mother was treating her was just her way of showing her daughter that she loved her.

The club was full of men, although Cindy saw a handful of women around. Two of them were making out, to the applause and laughter of their…friends? Husbands?

Brothers?

Probably not brothers.

The music abruptly stopped, and a hush came across the room. Cindy couldn’t decide where to look: at the stage, or at her mother.

Then Marg came out, and made her decision for her.

It had been almost two months since Cindy had seen her former best friend. She wasn’t allowed to come by the house, she hadn’t been at school, and Cindy hadn’t felt any desire to come and visit her at the strip club.

Not that she had the time.

The last few months had been good to Marg. She’d clearly stepped up her gym routine; her legs were muscular, longer than Cindy remembered them being. Her bikini-clad ass was firm, and looked utterly delectable.

And her tits…

Even hidden under a technically-a-bra strip of cloth, Marg’s tits looked incredible. Perfect. Better than perfect.

Cindy couldn’t stop staring at them.

And then, the high-school dropout began to strip.

The next few minutes were a blur. Cindy, along with the rest of the crowd, was absolutely entranced by Marg’s movements. Every wiggle, every gesture was charged with an erotic energy. Cindy could tell that her ex best friend must have rehearsed this ten-minute routine for hours, if not days. The teenager danced on-stage as if her entire purpose in life was to turn the audience on. As Marg cast her gaze over the entire crowd, she somehow managed to make everyone feel like she was there just for _them_ , that she wanted to fuck them, to show off for them.

Cindy knew that Marg hated her, probably. She’d been planning to be a lawyer, and thanks to Cindy, thanks to her dumb, stupid, petty, ugly prank, this was her life now.

Yet when Marg’s eyes briefly met her own, she felt a connection. She felt like Marg was happy to leave all that behind. In that one instant, she could picture the two of them kissing, touching, making love to each other.

In that single moment, she could _feel_ the orgasms that she’d be able to bring her former best friend. She could practically feel Marg’s fingers, deep inside her, making her cum.

And then her eyes moved onto the next stranger in the crowd, and Cindy felt…empty. Lost.

Alone.

She glanced to see her mother’s reaction. Like the rest of the room, Cindy’s mom was staring rapturously at Marg, her mouth hanging open, her eyes glazed over.

Cindy returned her eyes to the stage, just in time to see Marg’s perfect chest-puppies fall loose. She was on all fours, crawling across the stage, a hungry look on her face.

Following her gaze, Cindy was unsurprised to see the object of Marg’s attention; she was staring at Alex. And he was staring back, a small smile on his face.

_God I want him,_ Cindy thought. But, looking at the perfect specimen crawling towards him on the stage, she could understood why he’d lost interest in her.

If you had access to Marg’s perfect body, why settle for anyone else?

All too quickly, the show was over and Marg was leaving the stage, wearing nothing but her collar.

“Alex,” Cindy’s mother said breathlessly. “That was _amazing_.”

In response, Alex just nodded.

“I can’t believe it. All this time, I was thinking that Marg left school to do something tawdry, something debasing. I had no idea…she’s creating _art_! She _is_ a work of art. Amazing.”

“She sure is,” Alex said, turning his attention back to the main stage. The next dancer came on, trying to look sexy, but following Marg was a tough act.

“Where is she?” Cindy’s mother said, looking around. “I want to offer her an apology.”

“She’s going to get dressed backstage, then she’ll come out and start making the rounds, offering private dances.”

Cindy’s mother didn’t even question how Alex knew this. Instead, she said something that Cindy had never thought she’d hear from her mom.

“We should get one!”

Alex just laughed.

“Sure thing, Mom.”

As if waiting for her cue, Marg emerged in a fresh leopard-print bikini. She brushed off the masses of hopeful customers, and headed straight towards Alex.

“Alex,” she said, her voice dripping with lust. “It’s been too long.”

“You remember my Mom?”

“Of course!”

“Darling,” Cindy’s mother said, “you were _magnificent_. We’d love to see more of you.”

“Well, my shift finishes at 2.”

“Oh, I actually meant…—“

“Perfect,” Alex said, cutting off his mother. “Why don’t you come around then?”

“I’d love to,” Marg beamed. Cindy glanced at her mother—she seemed a little flustered, but then her hand rested on her collar, and a serene look appeared on her face.

“Amazing,” she told the once-banned teen. “We’ll see you then.”

Cindy’s shoulders slumped as she realized that she was once more going to be directly competing with her former best friend…a competition she knew she could never win.

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 26: Marg’s New Plan

On the rare occasion that Cindy’s mother and brother weren’t around, her friends would speak freely. While Cindy wasn’t exactly chummy with them, they would at least talk to her, and she enjoyed knowing how her brother had transformed their lives.

Ally seemed to have completely embraced her lesbian tendencies, and dreamily spoke of how grateful she was to Alex for helping her unlock her desires. Similarly, Jazz had gotten heavily into the BDSM lifestyle; as well as Cindy’s brother (and mother), she’d found two other local Doms to fulfill her kinky needs. The fact that she’d been forced into it by a collar, of all things, seemed to be more of a turn-on than a point of contention.

It was hard to gauge how Sasha felt about the situation. Regardless of the situation, she seemed to be unable to turn off her flirtatiousness. She would giggle in response to any serious line of questioning, and change the subject to something more light.

Something sexier.

Within a few minutes, she and Ally would generally have their arms wrapped around each other and their tongues down each other’s throats, leaving Jazz, Marg, and Cindy chatting awkwardly as they watched the pair.

Cindy had hoped that her brother’s collars just unlocked people’s true selves, rather than changing their desires. It would have made her felt a lot better about how she felt about her collar being removed…and her incestuous urges remaining.

Marg’s take on things, however, suggested otherwise.

She hated her life. She hated stripping, she hated Alex, she hated the way his mother bossed her around.

She particularly hated how easily he could get her off.

Marg would tell them horror stories: tales of the private dances she gave. Men whipping their erections out, stroking themselves while they watched her. The club’s VIPs, who she was expected to blow. She’d angrily tell them about how much she hated being on-stage, being the center of attention, using her body to evoke lust from a room full of strangers.

As she’d talk, however, she’d get more and more excited. Her eyes would light up and her breathing would get heavy. By the time she was talking about the feeling of a cock sliding down her throat, she’d have one hand between her legs.

One time she got so excited that she grabbed Ally’s head, and forced her talented tongue to do its work as she came, ranting and raving about how she hated being turned into a sex object, about how she was _better_ than that.

After Marg came, she’d often fall very quiet.

Cindy sometimes wanted to comfort her, to tell her that it was all going to be okay, that someday she’d lose her collar and go back to normal.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t, because…she’d lost her collar.

She’d lost her collar, and all she wanted was to see her brother. Just _seeing_ him, she was sure, would be enough to make her cum.

And god, if she could feel him inside her, just one last time…

* * *

“Cindy,” Marg hissed. “I have a plan!”

Cindy looked around. She wasn’t sure why Marg was whispering; there was no one else nearby. They were alone.

They were _alone_.

Cindy hadn’t been alone with Marg since the party. Alex, her mother, or another of the girls had always been present…often pleasuring Marg, or being pleasured by her.

The last time they’d been alone, Marg had tried to come up with a plan to escape, and Cindy had immediately told Alex about it.

“I have a plan!”

It seemed that some things never changed.

This time, however, Cindy wasn’t collared. She paused—did she feel compelled to tell Alex of Marg’s new attempt?

She did not.

“What’s the plan?” she whispered back.

Marg outlined her scheme. Next week, she was traveling to the city for the final stage of the state’s stripper championship (which was apparently a thing). Winning would earn a huge cash prize (it would go to Alex, of course)…but, more pertinently, she would be surrounded by the hottest women that the state had to offer.

“If I can collar two or three of them,” she said, raising her voice in her excitement, “maybe Alex will let me trade them!”

Cindy was torn.

On one hand, if Marg was out of the picture, perhaps Cindy would be able to find some way of becoming her brother’s favorite again. If Marg was gone, maybe her brother would miss his sister, feel the need to take her.

Just once more…

But if she succeeded, Cindy’s competition would just increase. She never got to see her brother while he had _four_ other girls at his beck and call—even with Marg gone, it wasn’t likely that she’d have more of a chance when faced with two more of the most gorgeous women in the country.

Another thought struck her—one that she hadn’t thought about for a while.

Morality.

Was it wrong, allowing two women to be captured, forced into a life of sexual servitude?

Cindy considered it for a few minutes, then dismissed the idea.

After all, it was hard to imagine someone _not_ wanting to obey her brother. Yes, the collar would be necessary to get them started, but look at her. Look at her friends. Alex had made them all so, so much happier than they’d ever been before.

Except Marg.

Cindy turned and looked at her friend. Did Marg not see how lucky she was? Did she really think she was going to find someone _better_ than Alex?

She choked back a laugh at the thought.

“Well? What do you think?”

Cindy hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, before realizing the answer.

The only answer.

“I think we should see what Alex thinks.”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 27: Waiting for Alex

Cindy enjoyed watching her friend Marg.

For two reasons. The first was obvious—Marg was stunning. Anyone would enjoy watching her. Cindy thought of herself as straight (unless Alexsexual was an option), but even she’d found herself regularly getting off while Marg danced through her thoughts. Even before her obsessive new gym routines, her body had looked like it was built for sex. Now? She was a lithe, glistening, fantasy come to life, and a joy to observe.

The second reason was less universal: Cindy was enjoying watching her suffer.

On some level, she knew that what had happened to her—her brother losing interest, her reasons for living being stolen away from her—weren’t Marg’s fault…but it was very, very easy to tell herself that it was. Marg had played a prank on Alex in the first place, and set everything in motion. Then she’d come back with her stripper body, and taken Alex away from his sister.

It was her fault. All of it.

And so seeing her impossibly _not_ enjoy her brother’s treatment, hating it as she came again and again and again. Watching her throw her life away, and spend her time stripping, it…felt good.

For the last few hours, Cindy had particularly enjoyed Marg’s squirming. All she wanted was an audience with Alex, a chance to make her pitch. All she wanted was to _know_ , to know whether she could buy her freedom by enslaving multiple other women.

But it was as though the universe was conspiring to prevent it.

It had started with uniform inspection. Cindy’s mother had lined the girls up, as normal, and begun measuring their uniforms with a ruler. If any item of clothing was even a quarter-inch out of place, that was an infraction. If there was more than one infraction among the group, that meant punishment—for all of the girls.

Marg’s clothes were perfect, as always, but Jazz…

Recently, Cindy was starting to wonder if Jazz was failing the inspections deliberately.

“ _Four_ infractions?”

For a moment, Cindy was worried that the neighbors might be able to hear her mother’s bellows, but she realized it wouldn’t matter. If there was a problem, Alex would solve it.

Alex could solve anything.

“Jasmine Hurley, am I reading my ruler correctly? Did I just find _four_ infractions on your slutty teenage body?”

“Yes’m,” Jasmine responded, staring straight ahead, trembling slightly. Cindy was watching from the doorway. She wasn’t a part of the inspection.

She wasn’t a part of much any more.

“Girls,” Cindy’s mother said, a note of regret ringing through her speech. “You know what this means. Line up.”

As the older woman began pulling out her equipment, Cindy saw Jazz shiver with pleasure. The other girls looked neutral—bored, even—except for Marg.

Marg looked truly devastated.

_Good,_ Cindy thought to herself.

As her mother began the kind of punishment only earned by _four_ infractions, Cindy slipped away, and began crawling around the house. She didn’t need to crawl—even if there had been anyone there, she doubted they would have cared enough to correct her—but she liked to. It made her feel closer to her brother.

Alex was in his room, glancing at his watch impatiently. For a moment, Cindy had a fantasy—she could slip in, wearing nothing but a smile.

“Hey brother,” she’d say, giving him a saucy glance. He’d smile back at her, and pull out his cock. “Suck on this,” he’d order, and she’d drop to her knees and obey.

“Harder,” he’d order, and she’d redouble her efforts. “ _Harder_.”

She’d continue blowing him, using every skill, all the knowledge she had.

“Not good enough,” he’d say, rolling his eyes and throwing her to the side. He wouldn’t even want to fuck her—she wasn’t worth his time. She’d had her chance, and she’d failed. The other girls had more practice than her by now, not to mention her mother’s coaching. They were all better sluts for Alex.

Better than she’d ever be.

Cindy blinked twice. Wait, _that_ was her fantasy? God, even in her wildest dreams she was a disappointment. Even in her perfect life, she couldn’t imagine Alex actually _wanting_ her, actually enjoying her body.

All she wanted to do was get him off. All she wanted to do was please him, for him to want her. And she couldn’t—not even in a daydream.

Alex glanced up, and saw her sitting by the doorway. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence—it was like he was looking through her, not at her.

“Hi,” she wanted to say, but she couldn’t pluck up the courage. Alex knew she was there.

He just didn’t care.

She continued watching as he turned back to his computer, opened up a program that she’d never seen before, and tapped a few keys. Less than ten seconds later, Cindy could hear the sound of someone coming up the stairs. They were crawling, so it couldn’t have been their Mom.

Cindy glanced down the hall to see Marg, red-faced and angry, crawling towards Alex’s room. The perfectly synchronized motion of her arms and legs made it obvious—she wasn’t doing this herself.

This was the collar.

When she reached Alex’s door, Cindy got out of the way and let her through. Marg made her way to Alex’s bed, grabbed a bottle of oil, and started covering her tits with it.

“Please,” she begged in a throaty voice. “Please, Alex, fuck my tits. Please. I need it so bad.”

“Sure,” Alex yawned. “You ready?”

“Yessss,” Marg moaned, writhing around on the bed. If Cindy hadn’t seen her best friend cum dozens of times, she probably would have believed it. But she knew what Marg looked like when she was aroused, and this wasn’t it. Was this an act, to butter Alex up, or a command from the collar?

Alex and Marg both knew she was there, but they’d made no effort to close the door. It felt like it had been forever since Cindy had seen her brother’s perfect cock—she decided to stick around.

A throb of arousal hit her as he pulled out his erection, using the oil on Marg’s tits as lubrication. As his dick slid between her mammoth mammaries, Cindy could practically feel it. She had a shift the next day…maybe she could convince her manager to fuck her tits. Hers couldn’t compete with Marg’s, of course…but then, her manager couldn’t compete with Alex.

Alex had just started to hit his rhythm when Marg stopped moaning and writhing, and said something that surprised both Cindy and her brother.

“Alex,” she moaned. “I want to make a deal.”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


	Chapter 28: The Deal

“Oh yes?” Alex replied, an amused tone to his voice. “What deal?”

Even from across the room, Cindy could see Marg’s relief. Alex could have reacted in a million different ways—he could have ignored her. He could have used her collar to punish her, although even Cindy was struggling to think of anything Marg would enjoy less than her current situation.

Her ex-best friend was crazy. She had a perfect life—how on earth could she not be enjoying it?

But instead, Alex had granted her an audience.

“I want to be free,” Marg replied, her voice trembling. “Please. I want…I want to go back to school.”

“Go back to school?” Alex said. His delectable erection had plumped up at the suggestion, for some reason. “But why? You have to agree, you’re great at what you do.”

“Please,” Marg begged, as Alex slowly began thrusting between her tits once more. “I want to be free.”

“I believe you mentioned a deal?”

When they’d been younger, Cindy and her brother had watched a lot of James Bond films. Cindy couldn’t help but feel that Alex was rather enjoying his position as a sort of supervillain.

Not that he was a villain, of course. Villains didn’t improve people’s lives in the way that Alex had.

“Yes,” Marg grunted, working hard to make her tits a perfect fucktunnel for Cindy’s brother. “The championships are next week. I want…I want…”

Just as Cindy was familiar with Marg’s fake arousal, she knew when the young woman was genuinely turned on. Whether the influence of the collar, or just genuine (and completely understandable) arousal at Alex’s actions, Marg was starting to get hot and bothered.

“…I want to make a trade.”

“A trade?” Alex panted.

“Yes,” Marg said. “Give me two collars. I’ll get them onto the best strippers in the state.”

“And what if _you’re_ the best stripper in the state?”

“You know what I mean,” Marg gasped, as Alex reached down and pinched her nipple. “Please…two for one. I can even find girls who…who…”

“Hmm?”

“…who enjoy it. Like the others. Like my friends.”

“You don’t enjoy this?”

“You know I don’t,” Marg said, shocking Cindy with her directness. The ‘you bastard’ was unspoken, but still hung heavy in the air between them.

“Not at all?”

With a final thrust, Alex came, shooting his magnificent load onto the stripper’s perfect tits. Cindy watched in awe as he unloaded burst after burst of his sticky seed onto Marg’s tits, her neck, her face.

When he was done, he reached down, carefully aimed, and administered a single powerful slap onto Marg’s foggy-eyed face. A loud crack filled the room, and Marg fell backwards, trembling and shaking in what Cindy recognized as a powerful orgasm.

When she was done, she opened one eye (the other was glued shut by Alex’s semen), and stared at him.

“Not at all,” she said coolly.

Alex raised one eyebrow. Sitting back in his computer chair, he idly fiddled with his balls as he thought. Cindy’s entire body ached— _she_ should have been the one playing with those balls. A god such as Alex should never have had to resort to touching himself. Not when there were two willing, horny slaves ready to do his bidding.

Not that she was worthy of such a task, of course.

“Why only two?”

“What?”

“You’re a perfect slave. Training girls is hard work. Why only two?”

“Three then,” Marg said as she wiped Alex’s seed from her face, moving it to her mouth. “Four. Five. How many do you want?”

“Just one,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Fine! Just one.”

“But I don’t just want some random stripper. I want someone…more.”

Marg stared at Alex, confusion evident on her face.

“Like…what, Meghan Markle?”

Alex laughed.

“Sure, I’ll make that trade.”

“I don’t think she’s going to be at the finals.”

“I don’t want someone from the finals. I want someone better. Someone more…personal.”

“Like who?”

“You’re the one making the deal,” Alex said dismissively, turning back to his computer. “You work it out.”

There was a long pause, and it became increasingly obvious that the conversation was over. Without another word, Marg swallowed down the last of Alex’s seed, and crawled out of the room. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t even sneer at Cindy as she left.

While Marg padded down the hall, Cindy’s mind was ablaze.

Her brother wanted someone more…personal. Someone he cared about. Someone who mattered to him.

As Alex tapped away at his computer, Cindy was filled with emotions she hadn’t felt for a long while.

Hope.

Confidence.

Inspiration.

With an uncomfortable boldness, Cindy moved one hand past the threshold of Alex’s door. When it didn’t catch aflame, she moved her other as well.

Before she could even register what was going on, she was in Alex’s room.

She was in her brother’s room.

_Without permission_.

“Alex,” she said, her voice quavering and cracking and barely louder than a whisper.

Her brother turned around incredulously.

“…yeah?”

“Alex,” she repeated, the words so quiet they only just reached her ear. “Alex, I…

“…I want to make a deal.”

* * *

To support my writing and access my work months before it goes online anywhere else, check out [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/panwhowrites)!


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