Back to the grind

Cassie had a Sunday afternoon stream where she played in custom games with her subscribers. Most were dudes but fairly chill. Cassie was already getting to be a very small-scale celebrity in the video game streaming world and the guys were flattered just to be playing a game with her. I sometimes had to remind myself that the viewers saw a much more sedate version of Cassie and thought of her as an ordinary girl who was just good at games.

She was right though, some of these guys would mortgage their house to see what Cassie flashed at me on a daily basis for laughs. It's funny, there's obviously no shortage of videos on the internet of women showing everything they've got and then some. But if a woman keeps her clothes on and reveals her skill and personality instead, that actually makes a certain type of guy a million times more interested in her than if she just took her clothes off on a cheap camwhore site.

Cassie was her usual bratty self that night but there were no major incidents that could provoke another spanking. I suppose I could have trumped one up, but that didn't seem to be how this game was played. If she wanted to do take things further, she'd do something to really provoke me. Like when she'd been threatening to stream herself naked to the internet, that had been genuinely upsetting. I think she loved the very real reaction I had, and the way I forcibly stopped her from doing that, for her own good.

But after that it was back to the daily grind. I was still working in the bank, after all. I was the only male teller and while I don't begrudge guys who do typically female jobs, like male nurses, for me personally it felt a bit degrading. Some of the customers would all but laugh at me, big burly guys usually, but even some of the women. My co-workers were nice enough, I guess, but painfully clear I was the odd one out when they'd talk about baby showers or fashion week or something. But what was I going to do? I had to work.

All the while I was sharing the house with Cassie. She'd find some excuse to flash me every day, it seemed like, or walk in on me as I showered or changed. It was more bratty than sexy. I did get a look at her bare ass a few times but it hadn't bruised up from my spanking. You couldn't even tell she'd been spanked by Monday evening. That provoked the strangest reaction in me: I wanted to use something harsher next time so I'd bruise her ass and she'd feel it all week.

What was wrong with me? I shouldn't be thinking things like this about my sister. And yet, we were adults. She was clearly into this, and she was even controlling it to some extent, since she obviously picked and chose when to really provoke me. I just couldn't bring myself to hit the brakes on this. I wanted to see what happened next.

The next Friday Cassidy had a girl's night out with her old high school friends, wine and cheese at the house of a girl who'd gotten an apartment.

"Wine and cheese?" I asked incredulously when she got back and came to my room to give me a report. She was wearing a purple dress and looked pretty good. "What are you, 30? That's some middle-aged woman shit. My co-workers do that kind of stuff."

"Obviously you just can't handle that I'm becoming a sophisticated, urbane young lady," Cassie said haughtily as she sat on my bed. I was at the computer and had swiveled my chair around to talk to her.

"Oh I could handle that if it ever happened, but sure ain't happening now," I teased.

"Okay okay it was kinda lame but all my closest girlfriends went off to fancy-pants colleges," she lamented, "The girls who stayed home are kinda weird, Mike."

This sounded much more sincere. "That sucks," I said, "And you don't have a normal job to make friends that way."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Well, welcome to being an adult," I said, "But maybe we can find some places to make new friends. It's not like I'm going to be hanging out socially with the bank ladies myself."

She shrugged, but it was nice to talk to her like this. "Oh I scored some pills though," she said, and dug a baggie of pills out of her purse.

I glared at her. "Pills?" I asked incredulously. We both smoked weed occasionally, but pills were something else.

"Yeah you know, oxies, roxies, good stuff," she said, "One of the girls is a dealer. I'm gonna grind them up and snort them! That makes the high better." She shook the bag of pills about a foot from my face when whipped it back.

"A pill dealer?" I glared at her, "You know that stuff's addictive. Opiates ruin lives."

"Oh lighten up Francis," she said obnoxiously, "I can do what I want."

"I'm not going to let you wreck your life," I said, grabbing the baggie in one swift motion.

"Hey!" she objected, "It's my money."

"And I'm your big brother," I said, "I know what's best for you and it's not pills. I'm going to have to spank you for this, Cassie."

I worked up all my courage for that. I really didn't want Cassie to do pain pills, but I knew I didn't really have this authority over her. Unless she let me have it.

She was glaring at me herself, but not saying anything.

"Undress," I said sternly, "You'll always take your punishments naked."

She hesitated, then peeled off her dress and the modest white cotton underwear she'd worn out. Holy shit, I thought, she's actually going along with this. She was quiet now and there was an excited gleam in her eyes.

Cassie stood naked in front of me. I was genuinely mad about the pills. That was such a foolish thing to spend her money on. She didn't exactly have the strongest willpower (heck even consuming sugar in moderation was beyond her) so starting on highly addictive opiates seemed like a terrible idea for her. I simply had no choice but to discipline her. It was the responsible thing to do.

I couldn't help notice we were both aroused, though. Her labia lips, normally thin and what I'd call a "coin slut" - perfectly tight and parallel to each other - were engorged and swollen in her excitement. I thought I could even see her wetness down there. A brother really shouldn't know such specific details about his sister, I admit, but she was the one shaving it bare and showing it to me every day for some prank or another. I couldn't help but notice. I won't comment on the evidence of my own arousal but... it was there, almost painfully.

Oh well, it couldn't be helped. I had to punish her even if there were some ancillary emotions here. I'd noticed that my bare hands hadn't done all that much and besides, it was probably best I not directly touch Cassie's butt like that. I went to my dresser and got my big metal hair brush, with some plastic padding, but the handle was metal. I liked it because it was one of dad's old ones, from back when they built things to last.

Cassie took one look at the hairbrush and I guess it was a man's brush, all black with a square end with all the bristles, and she yelled "Oh no you aren't with that thing!" and lunched naked for the baggie of pills, which was on my bed. I grabbed her with one arm to stop her. Somehow the image of her snatching the pills to go snort them just seemed absolutely pathetic and unacceptable. I wasn't going to let my little sister go down that path. As I held her, I grabbed the baggie myself and tossed it in my bedroom's trashcan.

"Fuck, Mike, let go of me!" she said, struggling now, but it was really just a hopeless mismatch for her. I pulled her like a ragdoll with me as I tossed the pills then went back to the bed and forced her to lay in my lap.

"No, I'm not letting my sister become a pillhead, Cassie," I said with some anger in my voice, "This is for your own good."

I had my forearm down her back this time to really hold her there against my lap this time. She could wiggle and thrash all she wanted but she lacked the strength to get out from this position. I brought the metal brush down hard on her left buttcheek. It sounded even more violent than I was expecting, like a wooden staff breaking against a brick wall, but when I looked there was just the solid brush and her very bright red asscheek.

Cassie screamed in surprise and pain. I knew from the last time that I could spank her into behaving and even to accepting her punishment, so I just had to be strong. I spanked her again two more times and she started to sob. Her crying made her sound much younger than the 18-year-old woman she was, it was childish sobbing. I had to keep going. She wasn't resisting as much so I could raise my body up for a better angle now. Two more hard hits, harder than I'd hit her ever before. Her skin was as red as a tomato. I spanked her again as hard as I could.

I was hitting her so hard I was suddenly worried I'd break the skin, but the metal brush's striking surface was flat so by dumb luck I was safe there. It was so loud when I ht her ass, and I was hitting so hard I thought I could see shockwaves going across her skin. A certain smell filled the room... was that her wet arousal? I spanked her another time, again going as hard as I could.

"I'm sorry Mike! I'm sorry I bought pills!" she said through her sobs. "I'm sorry!" she wailed, collapsing in my lap and giving up all resistance. There it was. Like before, it didn't sound like bratty sarcasm. Her voice was passionate and emotional, she was genuinely sorry.

I stroked her hair as she cried. "Good girl," I said, "I accept your apology. The spanking is over for today."

She sniffled, trying to make herself stop crying, then I helped her stand up on wobbly legs. She looked at me intensely.

"I have to... go now..." she said. There was no bratty defiance in her voice at all, but then she thought better of her words. "M-may I go, Mike?"

"Yes," I said, "I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast. Or come to my room if you need me during the night."

There were tears flowing down her cheeks still, but she gave me a soft smile, then darted down the hall. I waited 30 seconds after hearing her door click closed and walked quietly down the hall, pressing my ear against the wood to listen to make sure she wasn't sobbing still. Instead, I heard moans and squeaks of the bed. She was masturbating after her spanking, as I suspected.

I went back to the room, wondering if I could stop myself from masturbating. But then I had a strange thought. I picked up the baggie of pills out of the trash. It was a heavy-duty ziplock bag, semi-transparent, and just showed the vague form of pills. I opened it up and took out two pills. The print on the pills read "Tylenol" and "Motrin".

That little brat, she tricked me!