Follow his orders

"Alright," you say, swinging one leg over the horse and sliding off. "I'm always happy to give you a kiss, brother."

You put your arms around Beren and give him a big, wet kiss on the lips, complete with a loud smack.

"There! Are you satisfied? What does that prove?"

"Kiss me again," he commands. "Only this time, like you mean it. Like that time we were in the barn loft together."

Before you can think of anything clever to say, you find yourself leaning into your brother, pressing your chest against him and wrapping your hands around to cradle his head. You plant your lips against his, remembering those hot moments of taboo in the barn loft, then feeling yourself beginning to reenact them.

"Mmmm..." you murmur as your lips part and your tongue thrusts into his mouth. You taste the hot, forbidden sweetness there. That secret that you have shared with your brother in the wet slipping of your tongue against his. The secret of the way his body presses so tightly against you that it feels as if he has a tool handle dangling from the front of his belt.

Beren finally pulls his lips away, ending the kiss. His face is flushed with the heat of that surprising moment.

"Do you see now, Jordan? I or any man can command you to do as we please, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it."

"Nonsense," you scoff. "That was just a momentary-"

"Open your blouse and show my your breasts, sister," he commands. "Squeeze them, beg me to touch them."

Once again, before you compose a clever retort you find your fingers already working the buttons of your blouse. The simple covering opens, and you expose the much paler skin of your hidden breasts to your brother. The soft orbs heave free of your top, and you cradle your warm flesh in your hands, squeezing them together. Gasping at your own actions, you gently pluck at the pink nipples jutting from your wide areolas.

"Oh, Beren, please..." you moan. "I'm begging you. Touch them. I want you to touch my breasts."

Beren reaches out and gently moves your hands away. You moan as his fingers brush against your breasts. You desperately want him to grope and squeeze them with his big hands, but your brother does not give you what you desire. He lifts and tucks your breasts back into the blouse. He buttons it back up to your throat, the cloth stretched so tight over your chest that your nipples stand out beneath the fabric.

"No, sister, I will not take advantage of you like some common man. Do you see the point I am making now?"

"Y-yes," you confess. "There is truly nothing to be done if a man wants to have his way with me. The magic ensures it."

"Correct." He cradles your cheek in his hand. "Oh, sweet Jordan, do not look so afraid. I am not saying this to convince you to stay. In fact, you know I could command you to remain here if that is what I wanted. But I do have another command for you. A final command which I hope you succeed in obeying."

"Anything," you say.