Submitting with Step-sister

You watched in abject horror as Jenny dropped to her knees. Your step-sister. Your second heart. Your eternal rescuer. She knelt down before this ugly, old stranger and brought her hands up to rest against the front of his jeans. He was grinning down at her manically… the look of a starved wolf that cannot believe its own luck. Yet she was smiling back up at him: That same smirking confidence that you had always known of her. That made you sure that she still had everything under control, whatever the situation. You just couldn’t understand what she was thinking, here. What deal could she have possibly made with this balding creep and his friends?

Said ‘friends’ were either side of you… not in a threatening way, exactly. Just flanking and overshadowing your small and slender form, each with a hand resting upon your shoulders. It all left you feeling so exposed though: The ever-true size difference between you and full grown men. The dusty, dirty surroundings of this flat so far from the pristine luxuries of home, and, of course, the complex mix of anxieties created by your current, unfamiliar attire. The cold kiss of drafts between your freshly-shaved legs. The slight dig of metal fastenings from your heavily-padded bra. The tickling near your ears from loosely dangling pigtails, tugging out from your scalp to achieve ‘maximum cuteness’. And, most of all… the soft, constraining feel of your step-sister’s cotton panties, leant to you along with all this disguising attire of her old school uniform. A pleated skirt and pure-white blouse that you had only ever worn once or twice before… in the safe and private womb of her room and the depths of night.

You gasped, audibly, as she began tugging down Mr. Skeg’s zipper. Earning a quick reassuring glance from your only step-sibling… and a much less reassuring smirk from the man himself. You had never met anyone with a name like ‘Skeg’ before… though you were pretty sure that was actually just a nickname. You had never been this far out of town before either, on the grimy side of the city full of fenced-off warehouses and boarded up windows. Where little private businesses like the ‘tool-rental shop’ below seemed to grow out of damp and smelly alleys in between neon signs for ‘thai massages’ and ‘late night pharmacies’. It was all so different from the clinical world of private schools and exclusive soirees that your parents lived in. The life that you and Jenny had been dragged along in, as occasional showpieces and more-often nuisances. You had both agreed that you needed to escape… but… but this?! ...Was this really the only way?

She reached into that opening she’d made… and drew out his thing. It terrified you to see that flopping, fleshy lump between the careful grip of her delicate fingers. A sudden urge to rush forward and grab hold of her. Drag her away from this horrible man and horrible place and just keep running forever through the sunny afternoon outside… It was stifled by your usual trembling self-doubts though. She was the decisive one from the two of you. The impulsive fighter and defender of that unshakeable bond you shared. This was the final stage of her plan to save you both from the strangling hold of your parents. You couldn’t ruin that... whatever happened here. Jenny must know what she was doing.

What she was doing. Which was stroking the shaft of that… penis… and causing it to grow into a twitching, swollen tower in front of her. Then leaning forward without hesitation and pressing her lips against it. Those same lips that had pushed themselves against your cheek, or forehead… or occasionally very own mouth, so many times before. You had shared one precious, intimate moment after another with that female echo of yourself over the years. Stored every secret night you each had snuck into each other’s room and cuddled up in front of a movie, or let her teasingly play with your hair and try out some new makeup on you. Every single one had been sacred to you. But to see her now so casually performing something sexual upon someone else… it sent aches rolling out through every limb, only to all come back and meet within your heart. You scrunched up the front of your borrowed, pleated skirt between two dainty, clenching fists and felt yourself physically shaking with futile insecurity. Unable to hold all the emotions this vision was boiling up in you, or even decipher what they all meant. Were you indignant that this man was getting pleasure from your own most-precious step-sibling? Angry at her for debasing and sacrificing herself so easily, just for your own benefit? Or something else all together…

One of the other strangers, resting his grip upon you, seemed to notice this and offered what might have been meant as a consoling squeeze. It only served to make you feel more feeble and useless though, as you collapsed spiritually into acceptance that you were just going to stand here and watch… While your step-sister slid near the whole length of that free-standing meatstick into her mouth and began sliding herself up and down it. Skeg tangled some of his stained and calloused fingers into her hair and used this as leverage to thrust himself further down her throat. She gagged and spluttered a little, causing shining dribbles of saliva to leak down from her chin, but went back for more stoically. Showing not a hint that this bothered her at all… nor that any of this was a new or unexpected scenario for her. Suddenly everything you thought you knew about your rebellious and often AWOL step-sibling slipped away. Was this the sort of thing she had been doing on all those occasions she had played hooky from school? Somehow, the idea that there were things your step-sister hadn’t told you about her 18 year old escapades seemed even worse than the actual scene you were observing. You deflated within yourself and simply watched the rest play out, eyes glazed and empty.