The Family Frizz

A work of fiction

***

Being a work of fiction, everything in this story is made up, even the stuff that bears exactly the same name as real stuff that exists a short drive from Texas' second largest Lake.

***

Especially the fictional sexual activity all of which occurs between characters at least 18 fictional years of age.

***

In the span of a few weeks my entire world had turned itself upside down then righted itself, only to be turned all topsy-turvy again. Maybe it was a lack of sleep. My little brother Peter and I have classes at Sam Houston State University and should have been in bed, maybe even actually sleeping in those beds. Sleeping? In a bed? How odd... Sleeping in separate beds to prepare ourselves properly for school. But instead we were both staking out the boathouse together, looking to partake of a different sort of an education. Waiting and watching for Shelia, Mrs. Rhodes, from the 'hide' we had prepared while dad was in the boat out on the lake.

My little brother had my jeans scooted down a bit and was alternately massaging first my right and then my left buttock in his strong hands. Oh, that felt so nice, while very lightly toying with my blood filled and somewhat greasy labia. While this was a fact-finding mission and dad had much to teach me, much to teach both of us. I had thus far been quite successfully stimulated by Pete's loving touch so as to be pretty much ambivalent as to whether there would be another 'class' tonight.

As I lay in the improvised hide my wrists were bound together above my head and my ankles bound as well below me with rough hemp rope. I could make nary a sound as that vile scoundrel Snidley Whiplash had tied my fancy frilly white pantaloons into a gag which he then dastardly placed in my mouth. His rough hands were within my many dainty petticoats and he was... Oh my, he was rudely touching my most private of places. He was groping me. Me, poor, pure, young Sweet Nell. Groping her bum and forcefully fingering her sweet Sweetness located nearby. As he did so... Oh, the brute... As he did so... Oh, poor utterly helpless Sweet Nell was becoming a soppy wet mess.

It was wrong, Nell knew it was wrong. So why didn't it feel wrong to her. It wasn't supposed to feel this way. To feel what? Good? All tingly, being manhandled by a mustachioed villain with a large black top hat. But Sweet Nell's body was reacting to Snidley's unwanted touch, it was preparing itself for inevitable penetration. Tied to a railway track Nell was waiting and perversely gleefully anticipating the next oncoming train. She was hoping that gallant Dudley did not arrive in time to save her from the Federico Fellini Express as it entered the damp and inviting Fenwick Tunnel on its way to... O... Oh... Yes.

Ahhhh, oh, oh yes that was nice. Pete's talented hand making her... Sweet Nell... Making me Mickey just so... So happy in this "dark sacred night," thinking to Nell, to her, to myself, to Mickey, "what a wonderful, wonderful world." I could almost hear 'Satchmo' Louie Armstrong singing softly in the nearby trees by the lake, as I returned back to earth. Being with Pete made me not care that we had wasted a night in the backyard when we could have been doing pretty much the same thing in my nice comfortable bed without the mosquitoes. Pushing my many doubts away for another day.

Not doubts about fucking Pete. No, loving my wonderful caring little brother was absolutely the right thing for me. Those doubts were doubts about whether it was it really the right thing for me to do to or maybe for Peter. We could not ever tell anyone else about our love. It would be pretty easy to hide in plain sight. It was completely natural for siblings to do things, lots of things together and to be really close. But not to be intimate. Not kissing each other in public or Peter placing his hand even briefly on my butt like it just had been, well on TOP of my jeans.

Leaving Steve had definitely been the right thing for me to do for me. Which wasn't saying the same thing as saying that my claiming Peter as mine was the right thing for me to do to, or for him. I could have put myself back out there into the fray. I had boyfriends and even a couple of lovers before Steve. I could do it again, but those others would not, could not possibly hold up in comparison with Pete. It was almost as if Peter had been created by the angels specifically with Michelle in mind.

Doubts about us watching dad torment and then please his very kinky lover, because it was voyeuristic and kinda weird watching your father have very kinky sex with one of your old high school teachers. Interestingly though no doubts about watching Shelia gush and dance, scream and come. Certainly, no doubts about my wanting Pete to do something mildly like that to me. Just doubts about how to make it happen without messing up what we have together right now.

No, I really want Peter to spank me, to tie me up and fuck me, and to do to me some of the other things we have witnessed together in the boathouse. I mean logically how else could I decide if it was really as much fun as it looked like it was for Shelia when dad did it to her. Besides Deuteronomy tells parents to teach their children all that they know so they shall follow the correct path and Ephesians says children should be taught discipline. Dad is obviously an expert who can teach us much in that subject.

We returned to the house and since dad was there, our separate bedrooms. I should prefer the mosquitoes and Pete to soft blankets no mosquitoes and no Pete. Daylight, breakfast and the shared drive to Huntsville came too early. Although on this day I tried something new, a demure dress rather than blue jeans. Just the little dress a belt and sandals no bra or panties. Once we were out on highway one-ninety I lifted the hem of the dress a bit giving my brother-lover a clear sideward glace at my most private of places, the one he now indisputably owned. I made it clear that what was mine was his to look at, and to most certainly touch all he wanted so long as he kept the car on the road so that we could do it again and again.

***

On our third 'stakeout' of the boathouse Shelia pulled up and parked behind the building so that we could not see her car from the house. But we were not in the house, we were in a repurposed duck blind and we had our game in sight. Two kinksters in full view as they entered the barn-red building through the propped open back door. We approached quickly but silently and were able to see dad and Shiela embracing and kissing each other just like most couples do.

Then Shelia removed her tasteful high necked and cuffed long sleeve white blouse. High collars and long sleeves in this weather, another ignored clue. She wore no bra and dad picked up one decently sized breast and then the other by the substantial rings pierced through their nipples. She was wearing a skinny baby blue, no a little turquoise dog collar that matched her tasteful skirt and pumps. Turquoise pumps today, I mean really how many different pairs of pumps does Mrs. Rhodes own.

She walked to the wall and took the thick black leather cuffs down from their hook and carefully buckled them onto her own wrists herself. Then she chose the smaller black rubber ball gag from the wall, locking it into place in her mouth and after that a very small black fabric blindfold that a normal person might wear to sleep in. She unzipped and then stepped from her turquoise skirt. She wore no panties and her outer labia were again held together by that big brass padlock hanging from the substantial piercings in her sex.

My God! I wonder if she ever wore that to school. Was Mrs. Rhodes ever in front of our class reading excerpts from Shelly's "Fragment of a Romance" to us with no panties on under her skirt, her outer cunt lips padlocked together with a big brass lock. Shelia getting off on romantic poetry while that not-insubstantial brass weight tugged on her cunt, erotically making her aware of her every movement. Shelia laughing silently to herself and biding her time until her lover... Until my father, our father, would clip her wrist cuffs to that repurposed steel bar and winch her up onto her tiptoes and then beyond with her totally helpless body swinging free of the floor as it was now doing.

Did dad, did he pull one nipple ring to make her slowly turn clockwise and then the other nipple ring to make her slowly turn back counterclockwise as he used the small leather "ping-pong" paddle on her four soft fleshy globes, as he was doing tonight. Working over the lovely pair behind her and the other just as nice pair higher up and in front of her, home of those prominent nipple rings. Did dad flick his bic and singe off the little hairs in Shielia's pits as she whimpered into a gag as he did to her tonight.

Dad was landing blows upon Shelia from the small flogger that he had just switched to. Landing them upon her belly and occasionally on an upstroke between her legs striking her padlock sealed labia. This continued for a time as she whimpered and shook twisting to and fro on the single rope attached to the repurposed piece of exercise equipment that held her most happily captive. Well at least someone was getting a workout.

The show continued as dad took small needles out of a baby-food jar of alcohol and poked them into Shelia's breasts near the rear edge of her areolas. Was that one of my baby-food jars? More likely it was one of one of Pete's. Then dad placed more of the small needles in his lover's mound of Venus. Flicking them with his index finger after they were in causing his lover to twist some more.

Eventually dad went to the crank and slowly returned Shielia to earth. Once unclipped from the bar she rotated her shoulders a bit, shrugged some and walked slowly to the near wall with those little needles still embedded in her breasts and her pubic mound. She faced the wall and dad clipped her wrists to rings above her head so that her arms were at about a forty-five-degree angle from her body. Picking up the long rectangular leather paddle he struck her buttocks about twenty times and then picked up a crop to deliver the final five directly to her cunt lips from behind.

Weak on her knees Shelia turned herself around after dad unhooked her wrist cuffs. Then he reattached her to the wall facing out, adding to her ensemble a pair of heavy, thick black leather ankle cuffs. Now she was securely fixed in four places and truly immobile. After striking each of Shelia's breasts about twenty times, Each strike followed by a truly erotic grunt, just as thunder follows lightning. Why is twenty the magic number, I wondered. After twenty blows he fondled her breasts squeezing and manipulating them as Shelia winced.

Then Mrs. Rhodes reacted, dad had removed his little battery box from the wall and Shelia's eyes got really big watching him. He took the alligator clips on ends of the red and black wires and attached them to her nipple rings. She screamed when he hit the push button, he played with the dial and shocked her again. She was wiggling and stiffening and screaming as he went zap, zap, zap. Then he moved the clips to the little needles in her breasts, zap, scream, stiffen, pant, repeat.

Her thighs were glistening with the excess lubricant leaking from within her, after a few more zaps he switched the alligator clips to the needles in her mons pubis. Several jolts and several screams later he pulled a chair over blocking our view, but it looked as if he was unlocking her and pushing his hand slowly into her vagina. Probably a couple fingers I imagined, then three, then four. Finally, what he was doing was unmistakable. Our view returned as he knelt on the floor in front of the chair and he pushed his entire hand up and into her, very soon Shelia, a most erotic hand puppet, was quite literally bouncing off of the wall, in an unmistakable chain of orgasms.

The squishy, squishy, squishy sound of dad's fist inside of her soaking wet sex was nearly as loud as her ball gag muffled screams. I pulled on Pete's hand and together we quickly walked back to the house and then up the stairs to my bedroom. We had the rest of the night to ourselves. Dad never came back into the house when he played with Shelia. That's why he fixed up that superfluous apartment. He always slept with his lady-love in that upstairs boathouse apartment after playtime. That meant I could have my brother-lover in my bed.

Our hands were all over each other, embracing and kissing, biting each other's lips and licking. I was undressing Pete as he undressed me. As we finished undressing each other he grabbed me by my waist and rolled with me onto my bed. He was kissing me on my waist and on my back and on my belly. Holding my breasts in his powerful hands.

"Bite me," I requested.

"Mickey?"

"Bite me, spank me, squeeze me hard Pete, please..."

"OK," he said between kissed around my belly button. "Mickey..."

"Uh, huh..."

"I want to..." He paused to take one of my nipples into his mouth.

"Ahh, yeah..."

"I want to get you off..." Oh, how nice. He took the other nipple.

"I'm tough, I won't break..."

"I want to get you off now and forever," he said kissing my chest between my breasts.

"Do it, my love."

"I will but you know, we have forever." His loving lips returned to my belly.

"You could... Oh, oh, ah," His warm kisses found my pubic mound and folds. "You could leave a few marks for me to... Ah, ah, ah..." He had one then my other big lip between his sweet wet warm lips and was dancing his tongue across them. I wanted to say that it would be really nice to sit in the next morning's class on a red Peter-hand-print or to see a brother-bite-mark in the bathroom mirror when we were apart. But as he lovingly licked the three valleys of my sex and flitted his tongue into the entrance to my vagina, I seemed to lose the capacity for rational coherent speech.

As he kissed my clitoris hidden beneath its protective hood and then licked it with a gentle swipe to its tip inviting it to come out and play, I thought I would like to have 'PETE'S' tattooed right above it in large bold letters, or to wear a very heavy gold medallion like 'O' with Peters name engraved upon it in my labia. A medallion that I would never, ever under any circumstance remove. As Pete nibbled my pearl softly, it emerged before he returned to satisfy each greasy lip in turn and then took care of my swollen clit again. I thought of Pete's words to me 'we have forever.' As long as he thought we did then we really truly did. We did have forever. Pete loved me and would give me everything that I needed in life.

As I tensed up, my thighs involuntarily trying to squish my brother-lover's liquified brains through his eye sockets... No through his wonderful skillful mouth and into my spasming opening, into the center of my very being. To make us one forever, I knew that Peter was right. Dad and Shelia obviously had been playing for years to reach their level of skill. Peter was perfect, as I pushed on the back of his head wordlessly encouraging him to keep going, to give me another, I knew that he would make sure that I only received fun pain and that he could never really hurt me. As Pete got me to the second of what turned out to be five really terrific orgasms, I knew that he truly wanted to make that journey of 'forever' with me.

***

Lisa Ann