Mess with her without the watch

It wasn't as safe without the watch, but still doable. Besides, she would forgive him.

But what to do? Since he wasn't going to rewind, he'd have to keep it somewhat tame. Otherwise she might really hate him, and that would be truly devastating.

Reaching over he gently stroked his sister's hair. Her face scrunched up and she mumbled some annoyed words at a dream person. Through careful manipulation he was able to lay her out across the whole of the seat. Gently, ever so gently, he rolled her over so her face faced the seat. He hesitated for a second as he looked down at his sleeping sister. She was utterly defenseless like this so small and precious. Such an appearance was one that she only dared to expose to her family. On the topic of exposure, Walter intended to make this sleeping beauty even more exposed.

Deft fingers slipped apart the line of buttons that ran from her neckline to her lower back. As the back of her dress loosened and separated, her smooth and unblemished skin slowly came into view. Walter sucked in a breath. His sister truly was a rare gem. Or, given that she was opaque rather than transparent, she was more appropriately a rare piece of white oriental jade. Though unlike jade, his sister was not cold to the touch, Walter mused as he ran a finger up and down his sister's now almost bare back.

He enjoyed the feel of it. The soft skin with the hard and smooth feeling of her shoulder bones below. His finger trailed lower. The bump that he felt as his finger drifted over the back of her light blue brassier. The little ridges of the start of her ribs before they wrapped around towards the front of her body. The squishier sensation as he gently brushed along her waist. The feeling of his finger slipping into her large light blue kickers so he could dig his hand into the small of her back.

He didn't go as far as to remove her kickers though. Instead he just gently slipped her dress the rest of the way off and rolled her onto her back. Her breaths caused her large chest to rise and fall in a continuous and calming series of swells. Walter couldn't help but think that it was truly a blessed sight. His sister, unaware of her utterly scandalous state of dress, was sleeping peacefully. Blissfully unaware of his machinations. With such a close look at her almost-naked body he was made fully aware of how endowed his sister was. In her sleep her large chest seemed to almost strain against her brassier with every breath.

While it was tempting to remove her brassier and free her bountiful breasts, Walter first took the time to investigate the rest of her underwear clad body. Her tummy was just as unblemished as the rest of her and, reaching down, he gently rubbed her soft belly, confirming that she wasn't toned nor fat, but rather pleasantly squishy. Her kickers were large and obscured any view of the secrets between her legs, but they did nothing to hide her long and smooth legs themselves.

Walter sat on the seat that his sister was laid out upon, gingerly pulled her legs onto his lap, and gently ran a hand along them. He relished in the firm muscle in her thighs and calves to the harder feeling of her shin bones under her soft skin. As he rubbed his sister mumbled some words in her sleep and fidgeted.

Walter sat on the seat that his sister was laid out upon, gingerly pulled her legs onto his lap, and gently ran a hand along them. He relished in the firm muscle in her thighs and calves to the harder feeling of her shin bones under her soft skin. As he rubbed his sister mumbled some words in her sleep and fidgeted.

She would wake up soon, and though he wanted to see her bare breasts, without the safety of the watch, underwear was as far as he would take it. Though, a childish prank came to mind. Something that wouldn't expose her, but that she certainly would not like.

Undoing the strap of her brassiere was something that he had little experience doing but had some experience from watching and teasing the servants so he was able to undo the article of clothing without waking his sister. His next actions would, however, certainly wake her up. Grabbing her knickers, he pulled them, not down, as that would certainly make her hate him, but instead up. Charlotte awoke with a cry, to find her clothes striped off, her knickers being pulled up her back.

His sister gasped in shock as cotton was pulled up her back. "Brother! Let go! Do you think you are Arthur's age? Stop this childish prank!"

"Oh, so Arthur gives you wedgies?" Walter filed that away. He'd have to be sure to punish that boy when he got back home. After all, he was the only one who got to humiliate his sister! Or at least the only one who got to instigate it, as he had on occasion brought his friends to prank his mother, Jane, his sister, or any number of the various tutors that his parents hired. As he lost himself in his thoughts, he did not stop pulling on her knickers. Finally he got them high enough, slipping them through the strap of her brassiere and reattaching it. Charlotte winced as he let go, her knickers remaining jammed up her back, stuck in place by her brassiere. His sister made to undo the uncomfortable situation, but was stopped when he held up her dress. "Put on your dress immediately, or I will throw it out the window."

Glaring at him, Charlotte decided she'd rather endure an uncomfortable wedgie and quickly pulled on her dress before turning around with a huff. Laughing at her pouting face, Walter redid the buttons on her dress. His sister settled back into her seat, sitting all prim and proper. Only because of his extensive history with his sister was Walter able to take notice of the minute fidgets that she made, clearly uncomfortable at the state of her knickers. Still, with her dress now on there was nothing she could do.

“Come, sister mine. Let go of your anger; our destination draws near.” Charlotte quickly turned to the window, Walter doing the same.

“Beautiful,” his sister whispered, and Walter could not disagree.

Before them, in the midnight darkness, London shone with a radiance that Walter had never seen a match for and doubted he ever would again. It was, he thought, as if someone had carved out a piece of Heaven and placed it on earth. A city lit not by gas, as all others were, but rather lit by the power of the storms. Lightning, distilled and tamed so as to be used for the betterment of humanity in the form of electricity. To be sure, Walter had seen electricity before, and even used it. But not on this scale.

His father had, on a whim, bought up a box of lightbulbs and the required power generator. They had to be powered by a hand crank, and quickly burned out. Just as quickly as the light bulbs burnt out, Walter’s father had lost interest. Walter had taken the remaining light bulbs and rigged up his own little system with it. He had automated the crank using the small stream that Mother had set up outside his window. His mother had, at first, taken offense to the ugly waterwheel that he had set in her pristine rock garden, but she had relented after Walter had made it fit in more by making it look like a miniature farmhouse.

It gathered and stored electricity throughout the day, the storage a result of a month of the study of batteries, and allowed Walter to see while he tinkered at night. It was a massive improvement over the a candle, as there was very little chance of him setting his room on fire, like he had that one time when he was twelve. Fortunately for him, his mother had been visiting her sister’s wedding at the time and thus he did not get a stern lecture on why fire was dangerous.

It did however set Jane's clothes on fire, and he was treated to quite the nice view of her as she stomped out of a nearby pond, her clothes burnt off of her. Soaking wet and in just her undergarments, it hadn't been particularly frightening when she swore bloody vengeance against Walter. He had, for his part, simply locked her out of the house and not let her back inside until his parents drew close to home and she frantically promised not to tell his mother or to punish him for what was, as both parties understood, an accident. Being mad at him for an accident was certainly not worth the humiliation of being found locked out of the house half-naked.

Not that Walter's parents hadn't seen Jane in all states of dress before. Beyond the fact that she was particularly inclined to embarrassing mishaps, they had practically raised the girl since she was a child. Really, Jane was more or less part of the family, an older sister of sorts to Charlotte and Walter. Though, that actually might make it more embarrassing, thinking about it now. After all, what child wanted their parents to see them in such a humiliating state? Especially as a grown woman. That said, Jane had been all to happy that Walter began to use electric lights rather than candles so that such a situation would not happen again.

But really, Walter’s little electrical light was nothing compared to London's lights! He could not even begin to imagine how much power it took to operate the city. And soon enough he would be able to find out. The Royal Library was for students of Atlas Academy only, so to Atlas he would go. And he desperately needed more detailed information.

There was, after all, only so much you could figure out and then build with books and what few resources made their way to their village, a smallish thing halfway between Plymouth and Penzance. With lacking knowledge and inferior parts, his batteries were unoptimized, loosing charge rapidly. An entire day’s worth of charging his batteries using the watermill only afforded Walter an hour or so of minimal power.

But in London, neither resources nor knowledge were limited, if one had the money to pay for it. And so he had left for London, to learn the art of the machine. After all, you could not spend your entire life in a little country village. And his sister had managed to argue her way on the journey with him as well. Though Walter suspected it had something to do with the fact that his mother was getting somewhat tired of attempting to turn his dear younger sister into a proper woman; something that his sister fought her on at every possible turn. Perhaps she was hoping that cousin Marianna’s family would help civilize the girl?

“Come, brother mine! You have lost yourself in your thoughts again, and so are missing the view! You can see the Tower from here!” Charlotte’s voice tore Walter from his thinking.

He glanced out the window that his sister was peering from and he was awestruck. If London was like a shard of Heaven, this was as if someone had pulled the Tower of Babel straight from the Bible.

It rose, in all its glory, spearing the skies with its point, the top of which Walter could hardly see. It shone with a heavenly bronze, a testament to the prowess of the British Imperium. It was human ingenuity at its finest, a wonder without equal. On its face, staring out to the four winds were the great clocks which gave the tower its name.

“The Clockwork Tower,” Walter breathed. He had seen pictures, true, but no mere picture could do it justice. It was a beacon of hope, a bastion of learning, home to Atlas Academy, set in the heart of the London Imperium. On each floor a thousand of the finest scholars studied. There were one thousand and one floors in the Clocktower.

A knock on the locked compartment door shook Walter from his wonder. Though slightly annoyed at first, he decided that there would be time enough to admire the Tower. He was going to be in London for some time, after all. The young man walked over to the door, leaving his sister to continue to stare out the window in awe, the state of her knickers forgotten, and unlocked it. The door opened to reveal one of the train’s stewards, an effeminate looking young man with short brown hair who looked to be a few years older than Walter. The man could almost have been a woman, for all his feminine features, but Walter was fairly sure that the Clockwork railways didn’t employ women.