Twins in College

My big brother had just escorted me home from the video store after the midnight closing. As he sat on my bed and watched me fondly, I took off my shoes and socks, and then removed the skirt. I was just about to remove the t-shirt when he spoke up:

"Don't. I have an idea. Stay here."

And with that cryptic statement, I was left on my own, standing in my bedroom wearing a t-shirt, bra, and thong, wondering just what my Master had in mind for me now, yet growing excited from the anticipation. It was an odd moment for an idea to suddenly come to him, especially so late at night, so something about what I was wearing must have triggered a memory.

A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a single blindfold. "Roll up the bottom of your t-shirt so that your stomach shows," he instructed as he approached me.

I thought about that for a moment. "Should I knot it instead to make sure it stays in place?"

"That would be even better."

As I obeyed, I wondered what his being able to see my stomach had to do with whatever he had in mind. Granted, it made my waist chain visible, and ensured that he could fully see my thong, but beyond those two points, I was a bit confused. Nonetheless, I knotted the front of the t-shirt just below my breasts. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I saw that it made my chest seem a little more prominent, and I assumed that this was exactly what my Master had wanted to see by having me do this.

"Good," I heard him say, which turned my attention back to him. "Now put this on."

He handed me the blindfold, and I donned it as instructed. Once it was properly in place, he took me by the hand and led me from my bedroom. He then stopped me, put his hands on my shoulders, and practically spun me in place, turning me around so quickly and for so long that I very quickly became dizzy. If I had been able to see anything, my world would have had a constantly-moving horizon, like being on a boat in the middle of an ocean. But then I was stopped – rather, my body was stopped, but my mind was still spinning – and led elsewhere in our haven of incest, until I was backed into a corner.

"Sit." I complied, my mind still revolving.

"Knees up. Spread your legs wide." I obeyed.

"Put your right hand on your right knee, and slip your left hand inside your thong and play with yourself."

"Yes, Master."

I complied, the earlier anticipation having already made me a little wet. I enticed more desire from my body, then brought some of that moisture up to my clitoris, the initial touch causing a soft gasp to escape my lips.

I could hear my loving Master walk away, leaving me sitting on the floor in a corner with a hand down the front of my thong. For my being in such a compromising position, I had assumed that he would be nearby, watching me, yet I could not even feel the caress of his eyes upon me. But I simply cast that issue aside, focusing instead upon the task quite literally at hand.

An unknown amount of time passed as I continued to pleasure myself, continued to whimper and gasp and moan softly.

"My baby sister is such a brazen slut."

At the sound of his voice, I jumped, startled since I had not heard him return to me. But even as he chuckled at my reaction, my hand continued its work within my thong, continued to draw out more of my growing desire as I rocked against the questing digits.

The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter startled me again, and for a moment, I felt as if I could not breathe. I was no stranger to my big brother's camera, but it had been quite some time since he had taken any pictures of me – illicit or otherwise – so that particular sound was quite a surprise. He chuckled again, then took several other pictures.

Now I understood why he had wanted me in this position. I redoubled my efforts, my breaths breathier, my moans moanier, my squeals squealier. My body moved with greater force, greater need, against the fingers which penetrated me, the hand which cupped my sex. And the shutter continued to click, its unmistakable sound seemingly thunderous in my ears.

Then the repeating sound of the shutter abruptly ceased, but my performance continued. I was breathing faster and louder, my breasts straining against the knotted t-shirt. And before I knew it, I heard a masculine groan, then felt my Master's incestuous love upon me, the white ropes binding me to him, the sticky warmth upon my stomach and forearm and left thigh as he continued to unleash his dominance upon his willing slave.

"Make yourself cum," I was commanded.

It did not take much longer for my body to succumb to the throes of ecstasy. Commanded by my Master, especially with his own cum upon me, how could I not comply?

*****

When I awoke in my Master's bed in the morning, he was sitting at his desk, doing something on the laptop. When he heard me stir, he turned to greet me with a smile, then stood and approached the bed, allowing me to see the screen of the laptop...

Clearly, he had already uploaded the pictures he had taken, for on his desktop was a wallpaper of me, sitting on the carpeted floor in the corner created by a closed door and an adjacent wall, blindfolded, t-shirt knotted below the straining breasts, my mouth agape, head thrown back, back arched a hand down the front of my dampened thong, knees bent, thighs parted, toes curled, with splatters of white upon my stomach and forearm and left thigh.

It was quite a surprise to see myself like that, to see myself as my Master had seen me mere hours earlier, especially since I had never heard the shutter after he had coated me with his seed. In a way, it was embarrassing, a compromising picture, but mostly, it was beautiful, sexy, arousing.

...and I wanted to do it again – for my Master, of course, but especially for me.