Author's Note: This is the third installment in the eight-part series in which a young Japanese-American woman discovers the secrets of her younger brother's man cave and her own sexuality. If you have not read the preceding chapters, please do so before reading this one.
As always, a special thanks to Amela for her critical eye and helpful comments.
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The shed was built on a little rise behind our house. My grandfather who had been a small-time farmer kept his tractor, seed, fertilizer, and tools up there. After he passed away, much of his stuff was sold, given away, or just dumped. My folks then used the shed as an extra storage room until Kenny, my younger brother, somehow managed to make the place his own.
In the beginning, Kenny would go there when he was upset and pouted until I came to get him. Then it was his workshop when he started to scavenge, take apart, and repair things that he found discarded or unwanted. When he dabbled with his amateur photography, he set up a dark room for developing film with a large degree of success. However, as Kenny entered high school, the shed became his man cave, a personal place where he'd sometimes sleep (or do whatever maturing young boys did).
The shed finally became Kenny's "den of iniquity" and there was a good chance that upon entering it I would suffer - and ultimately enjoy - a creative but thoroughly perverse "Kenny's waylay" (with a big emphasis on the "lay"). It was amazing the kinky acts that my younger brother could get me to do and did to me once that shed door closed.
I learned the painful and utterly embarrassing way to never let the bastard sweet talk me into being tied spread eagle and buck naked on his work table. Boy, did he work me over that afternoon, torturing me with kisses, caresses, and digital penetrations. Taking advantage of my helplessness, he would have shoved his hand up my pussy (shit, I think he already had four fingers in) out of teenage curiosity. Fortunately, he stopped his experiment when I threatened that, if he succeeded, his fist would be the last thing he'd ever shove into me.
You would think that after that perverted introduction to mild bondage I would have learned not to enter Kenny's shed if I didn't want to be sexually exploited. Yet, one afternoon when our parents and Trudy went to visit relatives on the other island, I stumbled upon one of the dark secrets of my younger brother's shed.
I was just beginning my monthly period and used that as an excuse to beg off going with my folks. Kenny was busy in his shed working on some project and I was told to watch him. So, when Kenny asked me to help him with a soldering project that needed an extra pair of hands, I showed just how much I hadn't learned my lesson as I didn't think much about it when I agreed.
While holding the pieces that Kenny wanted to join, I looked around the shed's interior and happened to notice a bed sheet hanging oddly on the wall. Wondering what it was covering or hiding, I peeked after Kenny no longer needed my help. I was surprised to find full-length pictures of Trudy and me. Beneath each photo, the unpainted wooden wall was stained with a rather dark spot that seemed to dribble down toward to floor.
I took a closer look at Trudy's oddly provocative photo that must have been taken just after she finished a tennis match. Her form-fitting outfit was obviously drenched in sweat, and Kenny had captured her full, braless breasts as they pushed against the thin fabric of her outfit. In true Trudy form, she flaunted her obvious nipple bumps which protruded shamelessly and proudly.
I don't know when Kenny took my picture. It was revealing beyond belief. The thin cotton material of my homemade bikini fit perfectly when I put it on at home, but one dip in the ocean made it loosen and cling to my body like wet tissue paper. The cold water instantly made my large nipples harden and lengthen to the point where they jutted noticeably though the triangle cups of my bikini top. My bikini bottom hung lewdly from my rounded hips, and the crotch of my bottom clearly showed the camel-toe cleft of my pussy.
"Kenny! What the hell this is?"
Seeing what I was looking at, Kenny made a mad scramble to cover the photos and failing at that, tried desperately to take them down. However, I blocked him with my body and said, "Kenny, you tell me what this is or else you're not going to get any nooky for quite a while. I mean it, Kenny, what is this?'"
"Laurie, you're going to be mad...promise me you won't be mad," he said in his frightened little boy voice that he used so effectively to dampen my anger. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I softened my tone and asked him nicely to tell me.
Kenny stuttered, "There are times when living with two good looking sisters is really hard on me. These pictures remind me of the difference between the two of you.
