Family Ties



 
Family Ties:
BDSM Stories
2010-02-22
Lovely Laurie was delighted when she and her mom moved in with her rich
uncle. But he was a strict man, and looked at her oddly, at times. And
what were those odd noises coming from her mother's room at night? She
was sure to find out as she got to know her handsome uncle better.

Laurie felt a little twinge of anxiety as she heard the heavy footsteps
coming down the back stairs. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Uncle Paul.
He was awfully nice, in a macho, male sort of way. But Laurie wasn’t
used to macho ways, or male ways. She and her mother had lived alone all
their lives. And she simply wasn’t used to having a man around the
house. A man? She wasn’t used to men at all.

Boys, of course, were a constant source of bemusement, excitement and
irritation. But Uncle Paul wasn’t a boy. He was a tall, powerfully built
man old enough to be her father. It had been decidedly odd living around
him. Sort of like, she thought, living with a father in the house might
have been, had hers not died when she was an infant.

And that took some getting used to. For he was very firm in what he
wanted, in how things were to be, and did not encouragement much
argument. She was, after all, a mere girl. That she was eighteen was of
no importance. She could not yet support herself. She was living under
her roof. She was a “teenager”, and so she was a mere girl, and her
opinions and desires of little importance.

Not that her mother got much better. He at least listened to her
respectfully, but then told her why she was wrong. Of course, her mother
wasn’t exactly the strongest, nor, she admitted privately, the brightest
woman around. And her uncle usually was right, which irritated her since
she wanted to stick up for her mom. He was, even when he was drinking,
which was often, shrewd, intelligent, and strong-willed, and he liked to
get his way.

Well, she supposed, men were like that, especially successful men like
him. He was a sports writer for the local newspaper, a macho man with
his big chest and shoulders and his athletic build and handsome… She
shook herself and muttered softly, for that was another problem.

She knew intellectually that he was her uncle, but she’d never really
known him before. Perhaps if she’d grown up with him… but she hadn’t.
And so it was hard not to think of him as a man, and a very handsome man
at that. She was rarely attracted to middle aged men, of course, but
then she was rarely thrown together with them in such close proximity
for such extended periods of time.

She’d never been around any other man in her nightie, for example. She
glanced down at the little nightshirt to reassure herself it was long
enough, respectable enough. For she’d been getting odd vibes off Uncle
Paul since she’d met him, the kind of vibes she got off the boys she
knew, the boys she went out with. Oh it wasn’t so blatant, but it almost
seemed, at times, as if her uncle was attracted to her.

That was silly, of course. She was a mere girl. Well, she knew that some
middle aged men did find teenagers sexy, but surely not her uncle. He
was such a big, handsome, powerful guy, he could get any number of
sleek, sophisticated women.

He came into the kitchen, and she felt her pulse pick up as she
continued buttering the sandwich she was making.

“Hey,” she said casually.

“Hey, cutie,” he replied.

He squeezed her shoulder lightly, and then his open hand slid briefly
down to rub her back. She inhaled a little sharply, his hand stroking
between her shoulder blades reminding her that she had no bra beneath
the little nightshirt, and just how thin the fabric was across her firm
young breasts.

“If you’d eat a proper dinner you wouldn’t have to snack every night,”
he said.

He took his hand off her back, much to her relief, and, oddly,
disappointment, and opened the refrigerator, bending in and scooping out
a beer.

“I never seem to be hungry around dinner,” she said.

“That’s because you snack all afternoon,” he said, straightening and
coming back beside her.

Which, she admitted, was true. Her job at Video Heaven was pretty
boring, and there was an awful lot of crap there to snack on.

He put his hand on her hip, and pushed her lightly aside so he could get
at the drawer she’d been standing in front of. She felt her heart skip a
beat, even though there was nothing untoward about the touch. But his
hand was so large, and warm, and when he’d laid it on her hip the tips
of his fingers had curled around and down along her lower abdomen. It
hadn’t quite gone into “dangerous” territory, but still…

“You gotta watch out or you’re gonna turn fat,” he said.

“Not any time soon,” she said with a confident smile.

And she was certainly far from fat. She was a slender girl, though with
firm, high breasts which caught the eye.

“You’re eight months out of high school,” he said. “You’re not playing
high school soccer or volleyball or broomball any more. When’s the last
time you ran anywhere?”
She shrugged, not having thought much about it.

“This can start to grow pretty quick,” he said, poking his finger into
her belly. “And once it does it’s hard to stop. You should do some
exercise. I’ve got a whole room full of equipment. Use it.”

He put the beer to his lips and drank deeply.

“I hate exercising,” she said.

“You’ll hate not being a hottie when you get fat.”

“I’m not a hottie,” she said, a bit shyly.

He snorted disdainfully. “Right. Nobody likes a girl with a beautiful
face, tight ass and nice breasts any more.”

Laurie gulped and finished making her sandwich, not at all sure how to
answer the suggestion that she had nice breasts and a tight ass. Was
that what he thought!? Didn’t that mean he’d looked at them then?! The
thought of her uncle noticing her breasts and thinking she had nice tits
made her stomach fluttery.

“But you won’t have a tight ass much longer if you don’t start
exercising,” he said casually, sipping from his beer again, “And those
breasts aren’t small enough to stay up there for long if you don’t
exercise. The muscles will weaken and they’ll start sagging..

Her ears reddened, but she couldn’t not say something.

“Mom’s don’t,” she gulped, finishing making her sandwich as quickly as
possible.

“Her boobs are smaller,” he said. “You’re what, a C-cup? Thirty-four or
thirty-six?”
He looked down at her breasts, and Laurie reddened still
further, excruciatingly aware of how thin the cotton was across her
breasts, and suddenly horribly certain he could see her nipples poking
against it.

Embarrassment on top of embarrassment! She did not want to talk to men
about her breasts while they stared at them! At least, not unless they
were her boyfriends.

“Uhm, thirty four,” she gulped, face hot.

“Look bigger,” he said with a shrug, looking down at them again.
“Probably because the rest of you is thin. But anyway, they’ll start
drooping if you don’t work your chest muscles.”

He pushed himself off the counter, where he’d been leaning, and headed
for the stairs. “Tomorrow, you and me are going to exercise,” he said,
slapping her bottom as he moved away.

Jesus! she thought

She risked a quick glance down at her top. Sure enough, the
hard little indentations of her nipples were clearly visible. She closed
her eyes and bit her lip softly.

Still, she told herself, she was being silly. Her uncle was
a grown man. She was a half grown girl. And he was her uncle, after all.
She put her sandwich on a plate and carried it up to her room. She
passed her uncle’s room, the master bedroom, on her way. The door was
closed, and she could hear rock music through it. Her mother’s door,
further up the hall, was closed as well, for her mother liked to go to
bed early.

She entered her bedroom and closed the door, then flopped
down on the bed and pulled headphones over her head, turning the music
up as she flipped open the pages of a magazine.

Paul Young closed the door behind him and made sure it was
locked, then sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows
as he grinned across at his sister.

“That daughter of yours is hot,” he said. “She’s got a great little
body. I can hardly wait to get my hands on her tits.”

Cheryl moaned a little, her head turning as she rolled her eyes back
towards him. But she said nothing, of course. Not with the ball gag
filling her mouth and strapped around her head.

She looked amazingly like her daughter, with the same silky, shimmering
hair spilling over her shoulders, the same soft, oval face, the same big
brown eyes, and the same slender body. The years had treated her well,
too, and she still looked more like Laurie’s big sister than her mother.

Usually. Not now, of course, not with her hair pulled back and jammed
down by the strap of the gag forcing her jaws wide.

She was on the balls of her feet, her legs trembling, leaning sharply
forward towards the wall. And she was nude. Her ankles were bound to the
legs of the narrow table she was bent forward against.

Her wrists were bound together and forced up high between her shoulder
blades, locked by a short chain to the back of her studded collar. A
thick strap was wrapped around her bent arms just above the elbows and
had forced them back sharply – painfully together.

She was leaning forward because of the clamps biting into her nipples,
clamps which were attached to a thin cord which he had slipped over a
hook on the wall just above the foot wide polished redwood table. His
sister was bent forward at the hips, her lower belly grinding against
the sharp edge of the table, her sex clearly visible to him as he sat
back behind her.

And that sex was spread wide, tautly gripping the long, fat dildo he had
rammed up inside her belly. The dildo, twelve inches long and almost as
thick around as a cola can, was gleaming black, partly with the
lubrication he had used to force it up inside her, but also with the
moist heat of her sex. A second, moderately thinner dildo was stuffed up
her anus, and only a couple of inches of each of them protruded from her
soft, warm depths.

“Now, now,” he said with a lazy grin. “You knew exactly what you were
getting into when you begged me to let the two of you come and stay with
me. You’ve known what I was like since we were kids. Or are you
forgetting who took your cherry so many years ago.”

He scratched his nose and grinned as he took another swallow from his beer.

“Living where you were, how long before the little slut got herself
pregnant from some two-bit welfare punk, hmm? Three times, you said
she’d been brought back by the cops because of the punks she was hanging
around with. You surely can’t believe she’s still a virgin.”

He laughed. “Have you seen that body of hers!? Jesus Christ, Cheryl,
she’s a fucking walking wet dream. Those tits are bad enough, and that
incredible ass of hers, but that beautiful face, and those soft, full
lips. Woah. I can’t wait until she’s got them wrapped around my cock.”

He stood up and walked up behind her, then let his hand knead and caress
his sister’s soft bottom.

“Not that you aren’t worth it all by yourself,” he said. “You’ve still
got a great body, a tight ass, and nice firm tits. I suppose being on
your feet all day as a cashier keeps you from getting dumpy, huh?”

He reached around her, caressing the underside of he right breast, then
slapped her bottom sharply so that she yelped into the gag, rolling her
eyes wildly up to the side at him as she jerked against her bonds.

“I love it how you fight,” he said with a grin. “You hate it that you
love it, don’t you? You always did. Remember all those feminist ideas
you got in high school?”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Then you’d come home and I’d tie you up
and you’d be on your knees blowing me. Some feminist!”

He gripped the dildo sticking out between her sex lips and tugged it
slowly back, then thrust it in and up sharply. She let out a squeal, her
own body lurching up and forward, and his lips drew back into a grin.

“You always had such dignity,” he said. “But once someone got at your
pussy you melted, especially if someone pinned you down. You never could
bring yourself to ask any of your boyfriends to tie you up, could you?
Even though you go wild when you’re helpless.”

He leaned in against her, nibbling softly on her earlobe. “Is that why?
Does it scare you how you lose control when you’re tied up? Does it
worry you how submissive you are in sex? Or were you just afraid they
wouldn’t respect you in the morning?”

He drew back, slapping her bottom and drawing another muffled yelp.

“Laurie is a quiet girl, too, a lot like you at her age. But I’m not
going to let her waste that heat inside her if I can help it. I’m going
to force her to know just what a hot, slutty girl she is, and to
experience everything you did, and a lot more.”

He opened the low chest, the one kept locked now in case Laurie should
disobey him, come into his room, and stumble across it. He drew out a
long, thin cane, more of a switch, really, and positioned himself just
to the side of his trembling, moaning sister.

“You were made to be a slave girl, Cheryl. You just never trusted anyone
to be your master. But you can trust me, can’t you. You feel safe with me.”

He laid the long, thin cane across her outstretched bottom, rubbed it
lightly, then drew it back and snapped it forward into her soft, pale
buttocks. She yelped much more loudly into the gag, this time, driven
forward against the edge of the table, her ankles pulling against the
ropes binding them in place and her upper torso twisting helplessly.

“Nasty, slutty girl,” he taunted.

He slashed the cane across her bottom again, and her cry was greater,
her body jerking spastically, sweat beading her forehead now as she
rolled her eyes desperately at him.

“No, I know you don’t like pain,” he said. “But you know what’s going to
happen to you when the pain gets deep enough, don’t you.”

She quivered and shook her head desperately, and he slashed the cane
across her bottom again, and then again, and again, concentrating now,
not speaking, cracking the thin cane across her reddening bottom as he
laid line after line of dark welts across her white flesh.

He paused and gripped the dildo in her sex, then pulled it out and
thrust it up. She cried out, arching her back, and he saw the way her
breasts pulled back, her nipples tugging against the harsh bite of the
clamps.

“Slut!” he growled. “You love it, whore!”

He pumped the dildo in hard and fast and deep, and laid his fingers
along the bottom so that each time he rammed it up into his sister’s
belly his fingers stroked roughly across her moist, straining clitoris.
Her hips began to grind violently, to jerk from side to side, and her
head drew back, eyes closed. She pulled deliberately against the nipples
clamps, gasping and moaning and sniffling into the gag as he continued
to ram the dildo up into her belly.

He forced it deep, even deeper than it had been, so that now not much
over an inch still remained outside her overheated body. Then he pulled
back and slashed the cane across her bottom again and again and again as
she began to make wild, animal sounds through the gag, her head
thrashing from side to side as her hips shuddered and jerked.

He was against her in a flash, gripping her soft brown hair, yanking it
back cruelly, forcing her head back as he pressed himself against her.

“Tell me you want it, slut!” he hissed. “Tell me what your whore body
needs!”

He jerked the dildo out of her anus, and then rammed his cock up to take
its place. Cheryl’s eyes bulged and she let out a broken sob as he
buried his long, thick cock in her tight ass with one deep, savage
stroke. He ground himself against her, his hand still pulling her head
back, his lips moving across the exposed nape of her neck, his teeth
nipping lightly

His other hand slid down between her legs, his fingers tugging on the
dildo sticking out there while at the same time flicking back and forth
across her clit.

“Yeah! Take it, slut!” he sneered. “You always hated getting fucked in
the ass, but you always loved it too. Didn’t you!?”

He grunted and ground his pelvis against his sister’s soft ass, twisting
his thick, hard prick around in her soft belly.

“You’re still as tight as you ever were, Cheryl,” he said, breathing
harder now. “I bet you never let any of those jerkoffs you dated get his
cock back here. It’s practically still a virgin!”

He leaned back, his hips working fast and hard now, as he stared down at
his fat prick thrusting in and out of his little sister’s tight round
back hole.

“Yeah, baby,” he said, pulling on her hair, forcing her chest back so
that her nipples stretched out painfully. “Work your muscles. Squeeze
them down on my prick.”

He thrust in hard, grinding his pelvis against her every few strokes,
then speeding up as he recognized the telltale signs of climax rippling
through her trembling, shuddering body.

With an explosive burst of energy she arched back, and then began to
frantically grind herself against his fingers as he thrust up into her
anus again and again and again. Her head rolled and jerked from side to
side, her eyes rolled back as she gurgled and groaned and let out short,
sharp, muffled grunts of wondrous pleasure.

In her room, Laurie rolled onto her back, sighing. With her knees raised
her little nightshirt was pulled up around her hips, exposing her thin
cotton panties to whomever might be watching. Which, of course, was no
one. She spread her knees a little further apart, and let herself
imagine her uncle came upon her just then. She felt a little shimmer of
excitement in her lower belly then, and looked down the length of her
body as her hands tugged the nightshirt up higher.

Her right hand slid down across her soft, warm skin and into the
waistband of her panties, then through the light fringe of pussy hair
atop her slit. She moaned softly, her fingers stroking lightly against
her clit. She was always getting these lewd fantasies, but lately too
many had been about Uncle Paul. And the very idea of doing anything with
him was GROSS.

The other day she had been going from the bathroom to her room, and had
been wearing only a towel, just big enough to cover the necessities.
She’d hardly thought about him until she’d come out of the bathroom and
literally banged into him. Only then had she realized and gasped aloud.

It wasn’t as if he could see anything, really, except her bare shoulders
and legs, and that was no big deal. But she had been so – so intensely –
aware of her nudity beneath the towel as he looked down at her. And
there’d been a knowledge in his eyes that he knew it too.

“Watch where you’re running, cutie,” he said, grinning.

She had nodded, not trusting herself to speak, squirming mentally as she
eased around him and hurried back to her room, clutching the towel
tightly around her.

But in her mind now the towel had fallen away and – and what? The very
thought made her face hot, and tightened her chest, leaving her
breathless as her fingers stroked across her clit. God, that would have
been so awful! It would have been mortifying!

But in her mind she was there in the hall, naked, the towel dropping to
her ankles. And there was Uncle Paul, licking his lips, staring
appreciatively at her bare breasts, her hard little nipples, the thin
line of pubic hair above her pussy.

She groaned and drew her knees back more, letting them fall apart. Her
hands slipped down and peeled her panties over her buttocks, then up he
thighs and off. Feeling slutty and daring and wild, she sat up, then
peeled her nightshirt up and over her shoulders, tossing it behind her.

Nude, she lay back, breathing coming faster as she ran her hands over
her body, reveling in the softness of her warm skin, gently kneading her
breasts and fingering her stiff nipples. She rubbed lightly at her
clitoris, then stood up and walked to the mirror. She licked her lips,
eyes moving nervously around the room. There was the towel! On the floor
by the closet.

She got it and drew it around herself, then stood before the big mirror,
trying to look casual as she released the top and let it fall. She did
it again, and again, turning to one side, then the other, imagining what
Uncle Paul would think. Would he get turned on by the sight of her
naked? Would he try something? No, of course not! She was his niece,
after all.

She let her hands slide up her body and then through her hair, arching
her back, sliding her tongue out and letting it skim across her lower
lip. She picked up one of her perfume bottles, one which was tall, at
almost six inches, and rounded. She lay back on the bed, drew her knees
back, and pushed the bottle against her pussy as she stroked her fingers
across her clit.

It was not very satisfying, and for the umpteenth time she told herself
she should get something more, something like – like a dildo. Now that
she didn’t have to contribute to the rent, as she had before when she
and her mother lived in their crappy little apartment, she could even
afford one.

Now she sank the bottle slowly into her tight pussy and moaned, stroking
at her clit as she imagined being seen naked by Uncle Paul.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
From the ebook: Family Ties, by Argus
Argus books have been published in paper form by Virgin Nexus, Silver
Moon, Star, Olympia, Chimera, and Beeline. His ebooks are available for
download at http://www.ebookblue.com

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