Sis Can I Have That Key Back Pt 02

The first bit of light sneaking past the curtains woke Marcy from what had potentially been the best night of sleep she had experienced in months. Shifting her weight slightly, Marcy immediately noticed the unfamiliar sensation of another warm body in bed with her, and then the memories of the night before come flooding back. She had actually done it. She had gone through with her ridiculous plan, and it had actually worked.

In the beginning, she hadn't actually intended for anything to happen. She had found Greg's contraption and done a bit of research. Obviously he was embarrassed about it, doubly so because his own sister had found it. But the more she read, the more videos she watched, the more the idea of actually using the cage crept into her imagination. She loved her brother and wanted to see him happy. If this made him happy, who was she to judge?

Marcy's slight movement as she woke seemed to disturb Greg's slumber for a moment but he simply shifted a bit and then resumed the deep breathing of sleep. Marcy studied his features as he drifted away again. How far would she go? How far did he want to go? They had always been close, but what she had done to him last night... what she was doing to him now even as he slept... that was a whole different thing. Certainly society wouldn't approve, but what would they think even of his sexual hobby, whether it was her or not? She doubted there was room for empathy from the rest of the world. Marcy rationalized that nobody else would help him get this experience, so she would do her sisterly duty to help him explore it.

Easing herself out from under the covers, Marcy quietly padded into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee going. As the water began to heat, Marcy opened her laptop to refresh her thoughts on how to proceed with her brother. She was a studier. A note taker. A researcher. In the weeks since she had first found the device, she had thrown herself into discovering what could be done, and had even discovered a network of other people into the same kink. She had made a few friends on both sides of the key and longed to join that world. As of last night, she had a new title: Keyholder.

The natural light in the room darkened slightly, distracting Marcy away from her screen to see her brother shuffling into the kitchen. Disappointing her somewhat, she could see that he had found a T-shirt and shorts, but she didn't mention the transgression to him. She knew what else he was wearing, since she could feel the key resting comfortably between her breasts.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she started cheerfully, observing that he did not have the same expression on his face. "How did you sleep?"

Greg regarded her with the eyes of a man with a thousand yard stare. She had slept great. Amazingly well. This he knew because he felt like he had watched every second of it. As soon as she had pulled him into bed with her and pressed her wonderful body against his, she had fallen asleep. His cock, confined as it was, refused to let him do the same. He could feel it pulsing in its sheath, each heartbeat reminding him that she now had control of it. Further, he was left with the thought that he had the ability, according to her, to stop this charade. And yet, did he want to?

"Not a wink," he finally responded. "For some reason I just couldn't find a way to get comfortable."

Marcy smiled and nodded towards her brother, rising to get a cup for him. He noticed that while she had put one of his T-shirt's on, she had clearly removed her bra. Marcy's breasts floated freely beneath the thin material, her nipples seeming to try to cut their way through to freedom. As for the panties, he couldn't quite tell. Her cheeks did show below the overly large shirt, but not enough to gauge much else. His cock noticed and protested slightly against the plastic to no avail.

"Well I will say," she said as she handed him a cup and sat back down, "you did keep me warm last night." She let Greg settle down with his coffee. "So let's talk for real for a second. Do you want this?"

Greg thought for a few seconds and then chided himself for the delay. "You know, I really think I do. At least for now. You were right last night in that I've been looking for a certain mood... a certain feeling, and up until last night I haven't found it. You took me someplace I have never been and I want to explore it some more."

Marcy took a sip. "We might do some different things. Everything is going to cost you. You can't take anything for granted anymore."

"In what way," Greg pondered. He knew she was holding his key, and that she had certainly enjoyed teasing and denying him his turn last night, but he hadn't fully considered other implications.

Marcy looked at her brother for a few moments as she sipped her coffee. Sitting back in her chair, she set the cup down and pointed vaguely towards Greg's lap through the table. "Show me my property."

Greg sat stunned but did not move. Barely awake, he wasn't sure how to process the sudden change of tone from Marcy, so he froze. He felt as though Marcy's eyes were headlights and he was a deer. He couldn't bring himself to the reality that she had asked... no ordered him to show himself to her. Marcy sighed and leaned forward in her chair.

"Disobedience leads to consequences," she said simply and stood up, turning back towards the kitchen. Greg watched her ass jiggle somewhat as she walked away from him, still searching for the piece of cloth between her cheeks that would tell him about her state of dress. The distraction lasted only a moment as he realized that she had turned and sat two items on the table in front of him. A thin wooden spoon and a much larger cutting board with handle. Greg looked up at his sister expectantly.

"What consequences?"

Marcy sat back down and took a final sip of her coffee. "You get to decide. I gave you a direct order and you ignored it. I wanted to see my property and you didn't show it to me. So you decide."

Greg still wasn't sure as he regarded the two pieces of wood on the table. "Chop or stir?"

Marcy couldn't help but laugh a bit before she replied, "no, more like ten or thirty" as she pointed first at the board then the spoon.

Realization dawned on Greg as she spoke and his cage suddenly reminded him of his position in the room. "You're going to spank me?"

Marcy didn't say a word, but rather just pointed at one implement then slowly moved her finger to the other. "Right here right now big boy, but you choose which."

It was new territory for Greg. He had never been spanked in his life, but the erotica he had seen certainly had his imagination engaged. The wooden spoon, while much smaller, would cut angry red stripes into his flesh. And for thirty strokes! The cutting board, on the other hand, really was shaped like a paddle. It also weighed a lot more than the spoon and had a larger striking surface. Greg reached out and pushed the cutting board towards his sister.

Marcy took the implement by the handle and stood up, gesturing to her brother to follow. He arose and walked to the kitchen counter as directed. "Hands on the counter," was all she said.

Greg obeyed the command and put his hands on the surface, palms down. He could feel his sister's eyes on him for a moment and then she lay the board down in front of him. Confused momentarily, Greg then felt Marcy's hands on his hips as she pulled his body a bit further away from the counter, bending him at the waist. Next, he felt her tugging at his shorts until they were around his ankles. Complying with her silent direction, he stepped out of them and then they were whisked away. She lightly tapped against his ankles with her foot, signaling him to spread his legs until his feet were quite far apart.

"You know this is going to hurt right," Marcy almost whispered as she picked the impromptu paddle back up and weighed it in her hand for Greg to view. Greg nodded. Marcy positioned herself with one hand on the small of Greg's bent form and lightly rubbed the wood against his exposed flesh. Suddenly she switched hands and moved the board over to her bracing hand. Confused about her intent, Greg suddenly felt Marcy's delicate fingers exploring his dangling testicles.

The feeling was intense. Marcy eagerly fondled Greg's vulnerable balls for several moments before lightly slapping them a few times the way one pats a child or pet on the head. Then she once again took the paddle in her dominant hand and Greg could feel her body tensing behind him.

"All you have to do," she started as the first stroke connected with Greg's flesh, sending an explosion of unfamiliar pain, "is follow my directions." Before Greg could even begin to recoil, the second and third strokes of the paddle had landed. His sister was not holding back one bit as she drove three more strokes into his ass, forcing Greg to collapse forward onto his elbows.

Pausing for just a moment, Marcy once again raised the broad wooden plank and brought it down two more times, admiring how quickly the pink patches on Greg's ass were beginning to turn to red. After a final two strokes, she set the board down and stood back to admire her handiwork on her quivering brother. While it had only been a small amount of strokes, the weight of the board did its work for her and had certainly focused his attention in a direct fashion.

To his credit, Greg remained standing as he had been through the punishment, moving himself off his elbows and back to his hands. A slight tear had formed in his eye, but he wasn't convinced whether it was from the spanking or from the embarrassment of the spanking. Regardless, as time began to again flow normally for him, the dawning realization of his predicament struck him again and his cock tried to inflate in its tube. Unable, of course, to even begin to show its strength, Greg's manhood could only expand minutely, causing him to hunch over in discomfort.

Marcy watched Greg try to recover and felt proud that he was holding firm for her. Absently, she reached between her legs to find that she was soaked in excitement. The experience of dominating her brother so quickly and intensely had roused her body and she knew she was going to need relief soon. She couldn't believe it but she found herself wondering what it would feel like to have him inside of her. She hadn't actually seen his cock yet, so she wondered about it's size. In the cage it was obviously very compact, but she knew how the deception worked. The moment she freed it, his cock would spring to life ready to fulfill its desperate mission.

Marcy continued to rub her damp pussy behind Greg's back, feeling more blood rushing to engorge her clit. Her excitement nearly making her weak in the knees, she began to masturbate herself as she stood, leaning against her brother's strong yet hunched form. Pressing her cloth covered breasts into Greg's back, Marcy allowed her left hand to snake its way around his waist as her right hand continued to assault her excited sex. Fingers strumming in time against her clit, Marcy quickly found Greg's dangling imprisoned cock and grasped it firmly. He groaned aloud as her thumb brushed against the only exposed piece of flesh his cage allowed: the tip. Marcy was almost too far gone in her own pleasure, but she remembered her brother and kept up the torment on his sensitive flesh as she brought herself very quickly to her first orgasm of the day.

Marcy's knees went weak as the waves began to crash through her body so she merely collapsed against her brother as he stood dutifully in the position she had placed him. He could feel her body begin to convulse against him but didn't dare move for fear she would punish him further, or stop touching the small exposed tip of his penis. He didn't think he would be able to get off from the touches, but the sensation she was providing him was like none he had ever felt in his life.

As Marcy's orgasm subsided, she more fully collapsed against Greg's body, eventually letting both of her hands drop alongside his strong legs. After resting for a few moments and allowing her breathing to return to normal, Marcy felt her wits returning. Reaching between her legs and flinching slightly against her own touch, Marcy coated her fingers in her wetness and brought them up to Greg's face. Out of instinct, Greg opened his mouth, but Marcy instead smeared her dripping hand all over her brother's nose.

Marcy's scent overwhelming his senses, the last thing Greg heard as she left for her bedroom was "don't wash that off."