Sister Mindfucker

One

I'll tell you when I first realized I had this power over him.

We were at Splash Gorge, the overpriced water park, for Sandra's birthday.

My brother and I are not in the habit of going to the same birthday parties, but Sandra is my friend and her older brother is friends with Christian, my brother.

So we were at the water park, which I wasn't looking forward to - I don't love water and am terrified of heights. I also hate parks, crowds and people; and don't enjoy spending time with my brother.

But it was Sandra's desire for her birthday, so a bunch of us met there around noon and spent six, sweltering hours going up stairs and down slides, and splashing around in pools.

It ended up being quite fun, like most things in life that you don't look forward to.

But there was this one slide, called The Kraken.

It was a waterslide made to look like a giant squid, with near-vertical drops, and an endless loop of concentric rings.

We had to line up for this mega-slide for, like, an hour.

I was wearing a tiny bikini and already sunburned as a result. And the staircase provided little shade from the sun.

The slide was so popular that people were jumping onto it from the top - either on their own, or in twos - without the slightest thought for their own safety.

I mean, not that it wasn't safe, but people just seemed so gung-ho about it, while I was terrified.

I'd been in turmoil all the way up the steps.

I shouldn't have agreed to go on it at all, but it only became too intense when we were halfway up, and by that point I was too scared to look down, let alone return to earth.

My brother was about eight people behind me in line.

We didn't make eye contact, but he told me later that he could see I was feeling anxiety.

I've had panic attacks in the past -

I think my Mom told you?

So we get to the top of the stupidly high slide and I'm practically having a heart attack, because it's my turn to climb on - which the entire crowd is expecting me to do, without a second thought - to keep the line moving.

I'm pretty much peeing myself with fear at this point.

And I'm expected to throw myself down as casually as everyone else.

My brother pushes past the strangers ahead of him in line, and jumps onto the slide behind me at the last minute; clamping me safely between his legs, and holding his arms tightly around me; like a human seatbelt.

I don't think he knew how much I appreciated it.

And I don't appreciate anything.

I didn't say anything at the time because I was too busy screaming for the ride down.

The freak slide seemed to go on forever.

Every time I thought the worst part was over, there would be an even steeper drop, or more accelerating turn.

But my brother held me tightly in his grip the whole way.

As a result I didn't feel like I was going to fly off - which is my big, irrational fear on slides.

The final part of the slide deposits you in a shallow swimming pool.

The last few turns slow you down, but the ramp at the end hurls you face-first into the pool.

I got the worst of it because I was the first to enter the water, and my brother had to push me under so that he didn't arrive on top of me.

I got dunked and resurfaced, and my brother did the same a few seconds later.

But to my surprise, as he stood up - and as his waist emerged from the surface of the water - I saw the clear outline of his penis beneath his speedos, and it was

hard.

The way the yellow Lycra emphasized its shape and size was glaringly obvious, and pretty indecent.

I mean, it wasn't a full-on boner, because it was held tightly against his body by the wet fabric. But it was the vivid outline of a lot more than a semi.

It filled his yellow speedos to the brim - like there was an actual banana down there.

He knew it too, because he glanced down and immediately sank back into the water, to linger for a while - despite it being a pool designed for people to land in, not spend any time.

A couple of women actually landed on top of him shortly afterwards.

Sandra wanted us to leave for the wave pool, so I don't know how long it took for him to get out.

But it was weird, and I couldn't stop thinking about it after that.

I wasn't thinking about his dick exactly.

I was thinking about

why

it would go like that.

Why would holding onto his sister make him hard?

He wasn't hard before we rode the slide, so it could only have been his body pressed against mine that made this happen.

Did I mention I was in a tiny, string-bikini? And that his speedos were super skimpy? There had been a lot of flesh touching flesh.

I realized I must have turned him on.

Would the same thing have happened to

any

brother, on

any

water slide, if their sister was wearing a flimsy bikini?

It was difficult to know.

But for me it was a wake-up call.

I realized for the first time that my brother had a weakness.

One that I could exploit to my advantage.

My grown-up body held a power over him - the sort of power I had always longed for, but never found.

If I was clever about it, I could make sure it was his undoing.

I should probably give you some background...

Two

My brother was always the favorite.

He was the scholar. The good looking one. The kind one. The gifted one, The one who got to ride shotgun.

The one who had the bigger room, better toys, better computer, and more expensive clothes.

He received the first serving of ice cream, as well as the last; and most of the ones in between.

He got the best grades, best compliments - and for at least the first 15 years of our shared youth, appeared to have the superior genes.

He was just the better human out of the two of us.

He was considered a "high achiever," which basically meant - although nobody came out and said it - that I was a "low" one.

I was the crazy one. The lazy one. The disruptive and destructive one.

I was told I had reading, then learning, then attention difficulties; and when those would no longer fit, that I had behavioral ones.

Oh

and a lack of empathy.

My father once accused me of trying to derail my brother's success.

It was like he had given up on the chance of me achieving anything myself and his remaining guidance was just:

don't get in the way of your brother achieving things.

That was my childhood in a nutshell.

My brother was the dominant sibling. In a similar way that you have one dominant eye.

Did you know that?

Cause apparently it's a thing.

I do not mean to suggest my brother was dominant, by the way - he's a helpless pussy. Just that he was the apple of everyone else's (dominant) eye for years, while I was forced to play second fiddle.

Everyone worshipped him, but they remained wary of me.

The final straw came when my parents gave him the basement room.

For years I had wanted that room.

It's, like, ten times bigger than mine. It's a basement, not a bedroom.

It was like giving him an apartment.

And he was going to be away studying for most of the year!

I was sick of it.

I needed to regain status in my own family.

I needed some power over him...

But there had never been anything.

Throughout the 18 years of our shared youth, not once had I possessed any kind of advantage over him, let alone a winning hand.

Until...

I grew tits and an ass.

And suddenly there it was.

A new superpower was born.

And the beginning of my brother's downfall.

I'm a bit nuts, by the way...

Three

Another incident occurred about three weeks after the water park.

Mom and Dad had taken us out on the boat for the day.

The weather was amazing and we were allowed to drink cider, which was not something Dad often permitted - although he didn't let me have much, and I'd already had twice more than he knew.

We were in swimwear for most of the afternoon, but by the time we drove home, my brother wore a t-shirt and board shorts; while I was in a beach dress.

We were in the back seat of the car and I guess Christian was exhausted because he fell asleep, curled up like a dog, his head facing away.

While he was sleeping his shorts had slid down at the back - you know how shorts sometimes do, and his ass was showing.

I studied the shape and contour of his glutes and thighs, and I don't know why - when it should have been my brother's usual gross ass - but for some reason there was something... how do I say it without sounding weird...

stimulating

about it.

It wasn't like I wanted to reach out and grab it, or anything.

He was still my brother, the dork.

But it was as though the dork had become more masculine while I hadn't been paying attention. And it was only now registering at a hormonal level.

Now that I had seen the outline of his ass and cock, I felt a real curiosity about him sexually; as somebody with a body that might do sexual things.

We spent about 25 minutes longer in the car, and I spent 23 of them staring at my brother's body, with something vaguely approaching desire.

This helped me realize the second thing...

Not only was I going to use my newly discovered sexual power to destroy him, I was going to be able to enjoy it at the same time.

Four

Let's talk about Christmas week, when it all went down.

We had an unusually packed house that year.

Grandparents from both sides of the family came to stay - it was usually just one set or the other. But also Mom's nephew and niece, George and Allison, because their Mom (my aunt) was going through some hard times (the hardest one being that she is an insufferable bitch).

I am the youngest - and the one everybody hates, so I was expected to compromise the most.

I lost my bedroom to our cousins, and had to sleep on the floor of my brother's basement room.

He had the most amazing den down there - with a fridge and pool table, and a video console. It was basically a man cave that smelled like used sneakers and dried cum on a towel.

There was no discussion with me about the fact I would have to share a room with my brother for the week.

Because my family is not a democracy, it's a food chain in which I am the minnow

But you know the worst part?

My brother had a king-sized bed to himself, and I was expected to sleep on the floor - on a series of mismatched sofa cushions - because all our portable beds and bedding were in use by other guests.

It's one of the more outrageous things parents do to their children, when you think about it.

They take guests into their homes - sometimes strangers - and move their kids around like furniture, sacrificing their right to comfort or choice - as if kids don't need privacy, or sleep.

Did it upset me? Damn right it upset me!

But that's not the point I'm trying to make.

I'm trying to show you that in a way my parents started all of this, by forcing me into his private space that Christmas.

That's what made it so simple.

You don't put a male and female bunny in the same hutch, unless you're looking for trouble...

So anyway, our relatives arrive and fill up our house - and let's be honest, we only like about two of them, and bitch about the others when they aren't there. (Families spend the holidays together by circumstance, not because they actually enjoy one another's company).

I hated sleeping on the floor before I even lay down, which was why Dad was so unsympathetic. He kept saying

"you haven't given it a go."

But should I give a go at being stabbed in the face too, to be sure I don't fancy that for five nights over Christmas?

I was tossing and turning before I fell asleep that first night.

My back hurt and I was cold.

And I'm sorry, but I was 18 years old - which is a grown-up - and I'd had my freedom stripped away, while my brother was just lying there, all comfortable, in his king sized cloud that could have fit fourteen of him.

Plus, I could hear he was already asleep, which made me even more pissed, so I decided to get into his bed with him.

Because why did it matter when we were only going to be sleeping?

And why was my own night's sleep not as important as everyone else's?

And what better place to corrupt the little dork if I could spend five nights sharing his bed.

So I climbed in, which I didn't think was that big a deal.

And he didn't think it was that big a deal either, because he awoke during the night to pee and happily got back into bed with me, without saying a word.

Then I woke up the next morning at 7 AM or something.

We must have had a tug of war with the bedclothes that I had won, because I was cocooned in them like a silkworm, while my brother had no covers on him at all.

He was wearing pale blue boxer shorts and a t-shirt.

I guess the boxers were loose, or he'd been rolling around in his sleep, but his private parts were sticking out the leg.

His dick was hard. And it looked pretty big.

I had to roll over to investigate - I'm a naturally curious person.

I used to read Nancy Drew mysteries when I was younger, although I'm not sure she investigated this one.

I didn't try to touch it. I only wanted to get a better look.

It was a piece of uncommon wildlife to me.

I was 18 years old, and not getting close-up views of cocks all day long, especially while their owners were asleep and I could soak them in.

So I shuffled over and drank in the view.

A lot of thoughts went through my head...

The main one was just,

wow,

it was much prettier than I'd imagined.

Not that I'd imagined it much, before the water park anyway.

Christian's not scrawny and he's quite tall and everything, but if I was ever in a police line-up, having to look at faceless men's cocks (for some reason), I would never have matched this one to my brother.

It was very smooth.

See that piece of skin on the inside of your arm? It was softer than that.

I thought dicks had these blue veins and a big beet-red face and were sort of, I don't know,

gross.

But his was silken and polished; nothing like the horror show I expected.

It was gorgeous.

I don't know how long I studied it for... Maybe 2 minutes. Maybe 16?

Then he woke up.

"What are you doing?," he said in alarm.

"Your cock is sticking out."

He stuffed it back into the leg of his shorts - which was no easy feat, and covered himself up with the bedclothes.

"Mind your own business!" he said. "What are you doing in my bed?"

"Why did you wake up with a boner?"

"Why are you in my bed?"

"Somebody with a boner for his sister should not be asking questions."

"It's got nothing to do with you. It does its own thing when I'm asleep."

He made it sound like a pet, whose behavior could not be accounted for when left on its own.

"You didn't pull it out did you?" he asked.

"As if I'm going to pull your junk out!" I said, appalled.

"What are you doing in my bed?" he asked again.

"I couldn't sleep on the floor. And when I don't get enough sleep, Mom and Dad say I become an even bigger nightmare... Look at all the space you've got. This bed is like a fucking house... I just want a bit of rest at night so Christmas isn't totally ruined. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes - if it means waking up with no sheets and you staring at my dick!"

"You need to get over yourself," I said, standing up to get dressed.

I peeled off my pajama bottoms.

I wasn't trying to provoke him. I just thought that if he could see me in my little pink panties, he might find it more acceptable that I'd got to study his junk.

But he wouldn't look up.

Not because he didn't want to, I'm sure. He must have been dying to.

He didn't look up because he wanted to retain control.

You see, self-control is my brother's superpower.

It's the foundation of his discipline and integrity, and inspires the respect he enjoys among family and friends.

It was this rigorous self-control I was going to have to break down.

It was was time to up the ante.

Five

We got on fine-ish for the rest of the day.

It was the night before Christmas Eve, so we probably got distracted by yuletide shit, and incessant relatives - there were so many; it was exhausting to have to interact with them all.

By the time we went to bed it had gone midnight.

We'd been playing Super Mario Kart with our dumb cousins, who were really crap at it.

I was watching my brother get undressed and the convoluted spectacle started to piss me off.

He had taken off his shorts and hidden himself in a wrapped towel while he put on a new pair underneath. Like we were on a public beach.

It was a pathetic display of non-display.

To be honest, it was only this feeble attempt at covering up his body that made me interested in seeing it again.

Like when someone is trying to hide a diary from you, and you suddenly want to read it when you didn't care before.

I felt insulted that my brother would become shy in his own bedroom, in front of his own blood-sister.

Get over yourself dude, I thought. You're going to show me a lot more than your ass by the time I'm done with you.

I waited until he'd climbed into bed, hoping that I might command more of his attention, and then I got undressed.

Except I did it in the exact opposite way to him.

Where he'd been anxious to conceal, I made sure to exhibit and flaunt.

I knew my pajama top was on the other side of the room, so I had to parade over to fetch it with my bare tits out.

Christian did his best acting job of not caring.

But I saw him glance at them.

I wasn't trying to titillate. I wanted to mirror back how dumb his behavior was by being less of a nervous Nancy about my own body.

I put on the shirt I was gonna sleep in, and pulled down my jeans to made sure he got another good view of my ass.

He still wasn't looking, but unlike earlier in the day, I could see him trying to resist.

At least he's not a complete embarrassment of a man, I thought.

It reassured me again that with patience, I could break him.

I removed my panties slowly, revealing my tiny, round butt.

I was facing away, and made sure my shirt stopped at the waist, so that he wouldn't miss a thing.

I picked up my pajama bottoms and put them on, 'accidentally' mis-stepping into the leg twice so that it would take even longer to cover up.

I couldn't monitor him while I did all this, but when I turned around, I saw his eyes quickly dart away - all the evidence I needed he'd been ogling me.

However pissed he might have pretended to be that I'd taken a minor interest in his cock that morning, it was clear he had at least as much interest in what was going on in my own pants.

It felt like a victory, because it confirmed what I'd suspected since the water park; that my body held an allure for him.

It was one of the few things that seemed to have the ability to make him lose his otherwise-level head.

For the first time in a sibling battle that had raged for nearly two decades - in which he had been the victor time and again, and I had endlessly lost - I'd finally discovered his Kryptonite.

And it was my own hot little body.

I got down into my shitty, makeshift bed on the floor - the same one I'd rejected the night before.

I don't think I was in it for 20 seconds before Christian invited me back to his own bed.

Because

of course he did.

He tried to play the invite down, like he was sacrificing something to do me a favor.

But when a man invites you into bed after he's been rubbernecking your ass, who do you think is doing who the favor?

My brother was hot for me.

Even if he was still in some sort of weird, sanctimonious denial.

Call it foreplay.

The groundwork had been laid.