@CouleDaddy: Whenever one of your friend as...

Whenever one of your friend asks how it feels to be blessed with the most perfect younger sibling one could dream of, you always deflect.

"He's my little curse." you joke.

But it's no joke.

A big sister is not supposed to lust that hard after her sweet little brother's ass.

And he is perfect, by any objective metric.

Sunny, adorable, never annoying, clever, empathetic, friendly to all, cuddly, imaginative, with an impish smile and a sexy boyish bouncy ass that would look perfect impaled upon your cock...

Fuck! Stop! Dangerous thought territory!

The two of you have always been close. The best of buds. Partners in crime. Closest of friends.

And you still are, it's just that...

Mentally he's still very much the same sweet innocent kid he's alway been. Physically... he's grown in all the right ways to make you go insane.

It's not your fault that you've always been attracted to markers of sexy innocence, of softness, of coy submission, of bratty playfulness...

And it's not his fault, that just by virtue of being his adorable self, everything he does feels like a shotgun blast to your weak points.

At least three times a week, he'll drop by your room on the way from the shower, hair still moist, wrapped in a loose towel, and casually start half hour long conversations about whatever is new in his life, foraging head first through your book piles for something new to read.

Never is your willpower tested so hard that those moments of him wiggling his hips, absorbed by his search amongst your collection of vintage paperbacks, hard to track art-books, old rpg supplements.. chittering like usual, completely unaware of his towel parting open...

You can't help but stare entranced by the bubbliness of his cheeks, perfect spanking targets, that inviting puffiness of his asshole begging to be fucked, that silky softness of his still moist slit, his candy like tiny cock that would roll so well under your tongue and teeth.

Of course you always do the right thing.

"Go put on some pants, you nudist goblin!" You growl throwing a slipper.

Just a normal sister instilling some propriety into her wild and mannerless little sibling.

"Yes big sis!" he bounces out giggling holding the loot to his chest.

It takes you at least three wanks in a row, before you feel normal enough to even look at him in the eyes for the rest of the day.

(Looking at smut depicting impish innocent subs railed into submission by superior cock, taught their place at the feet of their betters...)

He can never know. You'd ruin him. You'd ruin yourself.

You'd ruin his memory of the perfect big sister who's always been there for him. You'd ruin any possibility for him of a normal love life. You'd lose him forever. You'd be a monster.

He'd never look at you the same way.

So you decree some ground rules, under the guise of the two of you not being kids anymore, pretending to be annoyed his most charming habits.

You can't refuse hugs. It's the only way the brat knows how to say hello, thank you, bye, sorry, or 'you seen my glasses big sis?'.

But you're very particular in always angling your hips away from his. (Can't let him feel that raging hard-on) To keep your hands way above the hips. And to annoyedly swat his own away whenever he wraps his arms anywhere near your boobs.

No more sleeping in the same bed!

That one is just obvious.

Come on, the two of you don't even fit comfortably anymore!

You can still watch funny phone videos while sharing a duvet, read in bed using each others as a backrest, tell scary stories hiding under the covers, or generally horizontally hang around...

But whenever ANYONE's eyes start to get heavy. Hop, hop, fun time is over. Back to your respective rooms. Good night little bro, no you can't stay, I wanna sleep without your elbows in my chest or your stinky feet in my frigging face.

(those sexy feet you'd love to...

... nibble on, massage, bite, tease, and torture until your little bro begged for mercy, mercy that would obviously never ever be granted... shit! bad thoughts! bad thoughts! Cold shower time.)

Granted, you're not the greatest at following this particular rule.

The kid's just too innocent, too sweet.

He'll fall asleep at the most random times, lulled by your warmth, by the familiar tone of your voice or by the comforting pressure of your hand on his head.

Once he's out, you never have the heart to kick him out of bed.

Come on, look at that trusting face, that silly way he scrunches his eyes while dreaming, that almost desperate way he clings to your thigh he's using as a pillow...

So you're regularly forced to endure hours of a rock hard cock, and repress an assault of endless horny fantasies

His lips so soft, his ass so close, his holes so fuckable, his bratty mouth so in need of a good attitude adjustment.

Whenever he deigns to wake up you don't have to pretend to be grumpy at him.

"Sleep in your own bed you blanket hogging toad! You're not ten anymore."

"But my room is soooooo far big sisssss" he always tries to find an excuse to hang around longer, but you're not fallling for his wiles twice in a row.

Those rules aren't much, but they help with the guilt of your intrusive thoughts.

You're doing your part to protect him.

But he's certainly not making it easy for you.

Your little bro's always been an adventurer. It wasn't unusual for him to leave at sunrise on summer days, spend the whole day running around the forest and come back after nightfall in torn clothes, covered in mud and sticks.

He's a cute daredevil who's never seen a tree he didn't wanna climb, a puddle he didn't wanna splash into, a hole in the ground he wouldn't stick his head into...

Of course he can take those risks because he trusts that his big sis will always be there to catch him if he falls.

But last time he came home his whole body covered in scratches, skinned knees, strange cuts in improbable places, eyes full of stars, with a million very urgent stories to tell you, implicitly expecting you to take care of your usual disinfecting/band-aiding sisterly duties...

... for some reason things felt a little different for you.

The way he whined like startled kitten every time you pressed a little too hard into his wounds with a cotton swab.

"You bully!" he'd complain, as you held him down with more and more force to keep him still.

"Stop being such crybaby." you growl in your usual no nonsense big sis voice, while feeling yourself grow a little drunker with power with every cute noise you manage to squeeze out of him with your fingers.

Whines, sighs, pleas, moans, whimpers... He's so sexy and helpless!

When you sent him away, looking like a band-aid mummy, you couldn't stand up. It felt like half your body's blood had settled in your hardon, and you'd pass out if you tried.

"Thank you big sis!" he bounces out the room totally unaware of the real danger he'd barely escaped.

But that's nothing compared to the trouble the little tyke manages to get himself into with his drama club!

// TBC whenever this platform deems me worthy of being able to upload more than a message at a time 😭

Your little brother is chatty, dramatic, cute, loves to be the center of attention, of course he ended up in theater.

It's not unusual for him to strut around the house wearing some strange and exotic costume for his next show or to grab you at random times to rehearse lines.

Last year his club had put on a performance of some half cute/half intellectual conceptual play about a cat and dog roommates where the whole species thing was done as a metaphor for sexual orientation and gender identity.

Of course your little brother had landed the cat role.

For weeks before the show, he'd refused to wear anything apart from his costume at home, allegedly to get into character.

His costume? A striped VERY skin-tight leotard, with fake fur around the wrists and upper thighs, an oversized collar, and adorable paw slippers.

It'd been constant torture.

Him prancing around in the sexiest outfit imaginable, meowing and pawing at you whenever he wanted attention, climbing on the furniture and jokingly 'pouncing' at you whenever you came close, which led to play-wrestling, and ended in a laughing hug.

(Well he was laughing, you were panting like a steam engine, struggling with all your might to not pin him down and ravage his tender, soft body, like he was unknowingly begging for...)

The guilt had been eating you alive. He didn't know what he was doing to you.

You couldn't, you just couldn't take advantage of his naïveté. He was your precious little brother.

Every day you'd felt your sanity fray a little bit more at the edges. You needed him.

You'd almost hit one of his friend, one night you'd gone to pick him up after a rehearsal.

The two of them were coming out of the theater building. He had a length of rope tied up to his 'collar'. Some ugly ass bitch in a cheerleader uniform was holding that rope, tugging your little bro along.

(she was not actually ugly, quite attractive even, but at the moment..)

If you couldn't have that little monster in your bed, it was not to let the first random ass ho bully him. You'd jumped out of your car like some avenging angel.

"Leave that kid alone!" you'd yelled.

Of course it was a misunderstanding, the leash thing was part of the play.

Your lil bro's friend had laughed it off. "It's so cute your big sis is so protective of you. I barely even speak with mine." (she wasn't even into boys, like very very much not into boys, not that it mattered in any way.)

You're not sure how you survived those weeks.

Yet nothing could have prepared your poor fragile heart when you opened your bedroom door after an insistent knock, to find your little brother flipping in his fingers a pearl necklace, wearing a sparkly black corset, a super tight thong and fishnets held by a garter belt.

"Hey big sis... can you show me how to shave my legs?" he asked as the most casual thing in the world.

You'd taken a deep breath, and shut the door on his face. Just for a quick emergency series of arm pinches and breathing exercise to make sure this was not a wet dream.

Nope. Reality. Fuck, just a glimpse of the way the thong had clung to his crotch had been enough to give you a raging hardon. You could not handle that. "It's just like shaving your face, except lower. Deal with it on your own!"

"Come on your legs are always so smooth..."

"...pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease... Without you I'm gonna cut myself, I just know it!"

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Three quick selfs slaps across the cheeks and you felt just ready to face him without acting like too much of a weirdo.

You inched the door open, with a severe look.

"Is anyone bullying you into this?" You're proud that even with your brain devoured by lust, your first thought had been to protect your little brother.

It's not because he's cute, sexy and adorable, that it's okay to push a trans boy into a feminine role!

As much of a monster you were inside, you were still his big sis. Not a complete lost cause.

Your little bro had laughed, a full hearted smile, with no guile, no reservation. "Are you kidding? I'm playing Frank N. Furter. I had to FIGHT for the role. Come on big sis, please."

Of course 'show me how it's done' had turned into 'I'll sit on the bathtub's edge, with my legs in your hands and let you do all the work.'

Funny how these things happen.

You'd gently drawn the razor across his legs, focusing all your willpower not to look up where they joined.

Fuck, that shiny thong was even sexier than seeing him naked. The tiny bump of his dick under the thin fabric, the way you could guess the shape of his lips, that unbearably sexy way his thighs met together almost an invitation for me to spread them apart...

And he chattered on.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about the role. It's a dream come true. But now I'm wondering, am i really up to it? I know I can do flamboyant... but sexy? It's such a challenge. Do you think I can be... sexy big sis?"

You'd almost had a renewed heart attack. "I dunno."

"Right? Right? Neither do I! What does it mean to be sexy? Like for real? I know what I kinda like but is that universal? Like for instance... what's sexy to you?"

Fucking brat had to realize he was torturing you, right? Focus on the leg you're currently shaving, nothing else!

Not the silky smoothness of the bare skin against your leg, not how delightful it would feel to sink your fingers the flesh of his thighs hard enough to leave a lasting mark, or how hard your dick is under your pajamas...

"Well... not you?" There, a believable big sisterly joke

"Fair, fair, guess you need some examples. Let me pull up my phone."

"Stop wiggling, I'm doing precision work here!"

"Sorry, sorry, so tell me..." quick phone typing "is this guy sexy, and is he sexier than me?"

You kept your eyes glued down biting on your lip to keep quiet.

You couldn't take it. You couldn't take it. There must be a wet spot the size of the Hudson river down the front of your pants.

"Come on, come on, come on, take a look, tell me..." the little tyke whines waving his phone right in front of your face.

You drop the razor.

(What's the point anyway when he's shaking his legs?)

"I... I need to go" you pant. This is getting too dangerous. You're about to lose whatever is left of your already very brittle self control.

"Then please, take a look to my phone, just one look, pleaseeeeee..." He begs.

What the fuck is so important about some rando hunk? Is your validation of his sexiness so important to the little brat.

"Fine," you growl. "But I'm leaving right after."

You raise your eyes, but instead of some fashion pic, the screen is covered by a strange dancing spiral.

Circles, dancing within circles, merging within one another, writhing as if alive.

"come on... take a deep... long.... look... sink for me" whispers the little brat.

A mental fog descend upon you, your eyes unfocus, your thoughts go soft.

"How's my hypno app big sis?"

//TBC

/// Am I going to bed right before the sexy times start? It would seem so. We'll have to see what happen tomorrow. ^^

/// Are we looking for more ?

The story continues in this thread !

(these thread size limits are becoming very irritating. I definetely need to stop doing long stories here -.-)

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