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Big Brother Loves His Princess
by N. Ambrusco (n_ambrusco@hotmail.com)

***

Your brother is alone while his wife is out of town. 
You're a good sister, so you bring him a hot dinner 
every night. But if you walk through that door you'll 
be in his power and it will change your life. (MF, nc, 
rp, inc, v)

***

Dammit, but your brother is worthless.

That's the thought you have as you pull into his 
driveway, with a turkey casserole in your passenger 
seat and your evening out on your mind. Sure, Neil 
works more than full time at the factory and is a good 
provider for his wife, but he can't do anything useful 
around the house. He doesn't clean, he doesn't cook. He 
does mow the lawn regularly, but that's probably just 
because he thinks it's butch to play with any tool that 
has a gasoline engine. If the kitchen stove could be 
made to run at 250 hp with a two-stroke motor, maybe 
he'd finally learn how to make something more ambitious 
than mac'n'cheese.

And you're the baby sister, so it's up to you to bring 
him a hot dinner every weeknight. You planned to be out 
cutting loose with your girlfriends downtown, but Mom 
is conservative enough to make you do the girly 
errands. Dammit, but your brother is worthless.

You trot up the front stoop with the casserole held 
firmly in both hands. After nearly two weeks, you've 
learned not to worry about how you'll knock at the door 
without a free hand; Neil's watching for you. He throws 
the door open before you even hit the final step. "Come 
on in, Princess." He's wearing his pajama pants and a 
Hawaiian shirt, hanging untucked and unbuttoned.

"Don't call me that, Dorkface," you reprimand him. "Who 
do you get your fashion sense from, the back of the 
beer can? Your pus gut looks like a one-eyed walrus 
poking out of your shirt."

"What, this?" He slaps both hands on his naked abs. 
"This is a storage tank for all the excess 
testosterone. Come on, you want to cop a feel?"

You nudge your elbow into his belly and smirk over the 
rims of your glasses. "You only wish a girl like me 
would touch you. I'm way out of your league."

Neil grins at you. "It's shameless the way we flirt."

"Flirt?" You return his grin. This kind of banter has 
been going on since you were both in high school. 
"Maybe if you weren't my brother, and maybe if you 
weren't ugly as a cat's ass."

The first part of your comment is true. He's your 
brother, three years three years older and a great deal 
wiser. But he's not ugly. Despite your comment, he 
doesn't have a gut. He works out regularly, and the 
factory work he does makes sure his muscles are trim 
and useful, not the gross bulky monstrosities of most 
bodybuilders. 

And his baby-smooth face is gorgeous enough to merit 
the body it sits on. He kind of makes you jealous 
sometimes. All the good genes in the family went to 
him. Mom, Dad, your baby brother and you are all 
average. None of you are unattractive, but none of you 
are pretty either. 

You have an average face, average hair, average body. 
With your white blouse and your black plastic glasses, 
you look like a librarian straight out of Central 
Casting. Maybe you have big breasts, but that's because 
you don't watch your weight. Good men are only 
interested in skinny pretty women, and the only men who 
ask you out are breast fetishists.

"Yeah," Neil answers you, "maybe if I weren't ugly. And 
maybe if you weren't such a cold fish, Kendra. Come on 
in before the food gets cold."

He steps out of your way and you walk into his house. 
His head turns to follow you as you head back for the 
kitchen. Is it your imagination or did he just check 
out your tits? Ah, it's probably nothing. "I need the 
baking dish from the tuna steak last night. And you'd 
better have washed it, because Mom's about ready to go 
nuclear on you."

"I gave it a lick and a promise," Neil says.

"It's still filthy, isn't it?"

"I'm too sexy to do chores."

You give him a little snort of laughter. "Dammit, but 
you're worthless." He follows you into his kitchen, and 
you drop the casserole dish on the table. "Tell me you 
at least have a clean plate and a clean fork."

He waves a hand at the cabinets. "Check and see for 
yourself."

"Maybe I'd better," you say, and head that direction. 
"Do you need me to show you how to operate the 
dishwasher before I go?"

Neil usually lives better than this. His wife Bethany 
does most of the useful stuff around the house. But 
she's in southern Mexico, doing field research for her 
Master's thesis, and she'll be gone for about six more 
weeks. You still live at home with Mom and Dad, so 
you've been delegated to do a lot of housewife chores 
for Neil until Bethany gets back.

What the hell. You'll turn twenty-one this coming fall, 
and that's when you and Jessica mean to get a place 
together. You're a tough girl, you can wait that long.

When Bethany's gone, Neil's really on his own. They 
have this tiny starter house with one bedroom, and they 
have no kids. Neil admitted once that his sperm count 
was too low to conceive. You think that's kind of sad, 
because the two of them would make great parents. But 
with Bethany so far away, it's probably a good thing 
there are no children. Neil could never take care of 
them without a woman around the house.

Sure enough, Neil has clean cutlery waiting in the 
cupboard. "Yeah, you have enough to get you by. I'd 
better get out of here." You turn around and yelp with 
fear. Neil's standing right in your face. "Jesus," you 
sigh, putting a hand on your breast to calm your 
rushing heart. "I didn't hear you coming up behind me."

"It's okay, Princess," he says. "I don't want to scare 
you or anything. Can you stay for a few minutes?"

"Not really." Your brother is standing right in your 
space. You can feel his hot breath on your forehead. "I 
promised Jessica and Dawn we could go see the new chick 
flick at the multiplex tonight."

"Come on, Kendra," he begs, making a sad puppy-dog 
face. "I'm lonely. I need a friend tonight."

You start to feel a little sisterly sympathy for him, 
but then he steps even closer. He's got you backed 
against the lip of counter, and he leans his face in so 
you have to bend backward away from him. This is 
starting to creep you out. "Jessica and Dawn are 
waiting on me. They'll worry if I don't show up." You 
slide sideways against the counter to get away.

He puts a hand on your cheek and starts to draw light 
circles with his fingertips. "Please, Kendra. Please."

The hand on your cheek is connected to a thick arm 
that's definitely stronger than you are, so you can't 
escape that way. And if you go the other way you'll 
smack into the refrigerator. The only way out of this 
scary situation is to talk your way past Neil. "Listen 
to me," you say. "You have friends, people at work--"

"People at work," he sneers. "A bunch of muscle-heads 
whose greatest accomplishment is slamming down six 
whole beers without having to run to the john. No, 
Kendra, I've never been able to talk to another human 
being the way I can talk to you. Not even Bethany." He 
looks deep in your eyes. He takes several deep husky 
breaths, and the hand petting your cheek starts to 
tremble. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't," you tell him. "Stop this while you still 
can."

Your brother answers by putting both hands flat on your 
cheeks and kissing you hard on the lips. Your eyes are 
wide with shock. His tongue licks out of his mouth and 
pushes between your lips, sliding over your teeth, 
exploring your mouth. You're too scared to breathe. His 
tongue is thick and tough, and his jaw works up and 
down while he's kissing you. Your mind races, trying to 
figure out what to do, but it's like your body isn't 
responding. All you can do is stand there, rigid as a 
board, while your brother kisses you like a long-lost 
lover. Or like a whore in the bathroom of a public 
park.

After what seems like several hours he breaks the kiss 
and lifts his face off yours. He still holds your face 
in his hands. You feel a single tear running down the 
corner of your nose, and he leans in and licks the tear 
away. Your heart is pounding furiously against your 
ribs.

Neil smiles at you. "Now you can't tell me you don't 
feel anything when I do that."

His words break whatever spell it was he had over you. 
You raise your leg and kick at his package. The kick 
misses, but your foot connects with his kneecap. He 
bawls in pain, and he takes his hands off you and 
stumbles back several paces. You turn and sprint for 
the door.

Neil catches up with you in the living room and wraps 
both arms around your waist, lifting you up off the 
ground. "Please, Kendra," he begs, while you swing your 
arms and legs in a vain attempt to hit him. "I need you 
to be here with me tonight. I need you to be my 
Princess."

After a moment you stop struggling, because it's doing 
no good. He sets you down, and you whirl around and 
slap him across the face. "Grow up, Neil," you say, and 
you reach out to slap him back the other way.

He catches your hand in his and yanks. You whirl into 
the wall with such force that you feel the drywall flex 
under the impact. You fall down and smack your forehead 
on the hardwood floor. White flowers dance in front of 
your eyes, and you can't make your arms and legs move.

Your brother scoops you up with both arms and places 
you gently on the couch. "I told you, Kendra, I don't 
want to hurt you." He reaches down, grabs your blouse 
in both hands, and rips. Buttons go flying. His hands 
begin to glide over your breasts, but you're too dazed 
to resist. Finally he slips his hands up under the cups 
of your bra and pushes them up, exposing the skin of 
your breasts. His thumbs trace broad lazy circles 
around your nipples.

"Neil, please," you whimper. "I'm your sister. Don't do 
this."

"I have to," he says, as he leans his face into your 
cleavage.

"No," you whisper. "You don't have to." Your voice 
sounds so feeble, even to yourself.

"I need this," he moans, nuzzling his face into your 
breasts. "I've wanted you since you were eleven years 
old. You're so beautiful…" He begins licking and 
sucking at your right nipple.

"I'm not beautiful," you tell him.

He bites gently at your nipple before he answers. "Yes 
you are. You're the most attractive woman on the face 
of the earth."

"Bethany is much more beautiful than I am. What are you 
going to tell your wife?" Your strength is starting to 
return, but you know you'll never be able to fight 
Neil. "How are you going to tell her you've been 
unfaithful, and with your own sister?"

"This will be our little secret."

And you know it will be. Neil is the firstborn, so he's 
Mom and Dad's favorite. If you try to tell, they'll 
turn their backs on you. Maybe you can tell the cops, 
but then the whole damn world will find out about you 
and your brother, and his sick, unnatural lusts.

And what happens if it goes to trial, and somebody 
testifies about the sexual banter between you two? 
Everyone will think you wanted this. The whole world 
will think you lust after your own brother. No, he's 
right. This will have to be your little secret.

You've wondered what your first time would be like. 
You've been saving yourself for the man who will always 
be there. Dawn and Jessica have tried to persuade you 
not to be so snobbish, but you've been willing to wait. 
And now it looks like all your waiting was for nothing, 
because your brother can't control his urges when 
Bethany isn't around.

Neil climbs on top of you, pinning you to the couch. 
His knees straddle your thighs. He reaches down and 
begins stroking your hips through your jeans. His 
erection pokes out through his pajama pants, and you 
realize that's why he came to the door dressed like he 
did. He planned this. And you walked right into his 
sick trap. 

"Oh, God, Kendra," he moans. "Oh, God, your body is so 
perfect. I love you so much, Kendra." His face is 
bright red and he shakes all over with his pent-up 
lust. "You're the only woman I've ever really loved."

His curious hands slide underneath you. He slips his 
fingertips into your back pockets and cups your 
buttocks in both hands as he buries his face in your 
belly and starts licking and kissing. His crotch begins 
slowly grinding against yours, getting faster little by 
little, dry-humping you. His hands on your ass, his 
mouth on your belly, his penis at your crotch. He's 
being awfully slow and thorough in exploring your body. 
He seems afraid to rush things. Then it hits you--he 
thinks this is foreplay! The bastard thinks this is 
romantic! You feel so small and helpless under your 
brother's weight.

Then your body starts to betray you. You feel yourself 
getting wet between your thighs. This can't be 
happening, you think. This man is your rapist. This 
rapist is your brother. Your body can't want to have 
sex with him. He dry-humps you with greater and greater 
ferocity, moaning and kissing and cupping you all at 
the same time. Your blood rushes out of your head and 
into your vagina. You are wracked with lust and hatred 
at the same time.

And all at once, Neil stops moving. His hands go still, 
the dry-humping stops, and he lifts his head in 
ecstasy. You have wondered what it looks like when a 
man comes, and now you know.

Your own orgasm follows a few moments later. You've 
never hated yourself more.

Suddenly limp and spent, Neil collapses on you. His 
breathing slows down, and he looks sleepy. He's still 
on top of you, so you can't get away. He lifts one hand 
up and begins caressing your shoulder. Sick as this 
whole situation is, you have to admit his gentle 
strokes feel good. And though you feel like Neil's 
dirty whore, at least he didn't actually rape you. Your 
self-respect is gone, but your virginity is intact.

You have no idea how long he lies on top of you. He has 
your arm pinned, so you can't even check your watch. 
Jessica and Dawn must be worried. Neil doesn't even do 
you the dignity of falling asleep. He lies there with 
his face pressed into your breast and his hand stroking 
you. He must outweigh you by seventy-five pounds. Your 
legs start to fall asleep.

Finally he lifts his face and looks at you. "That was 
exquisite," he whispers. "I've never felt closer to 
anybody than I do right now."

You don't answer him. You feel like you're going to be 
sick in your own hair.

"We were meant to make love," he whispers. "We came 
from one flesh, and we were destined to become one 
flesh again. I never want this moment to end. You are 
so perfect, Kendra. You're my perfect Princess. I love 
you so much."

You can't help but look down at yourself. You don't 
know what this "perfect" stuff is about. You have a 
chubby belly and oversized jugs. You're not ugly, 
you're just ordinary. His wife is much prettier than 
you are. But he has his mind made up that you're 
perfect. You can't help but wonder how long he's nursed 
the fantasy of having his only sister.

"Tell me you feel the same way," he pleads. "Tell me 
you love me?"

You lift your free arm and stroke his face. "Of course 
I do," you tell him. "This is the best evening of my 
life."

Any lie will do, no matter how disgusting, if that's 
what it takes to make him get up and let you leave. 
You're going to have to find a way to convince Mom not 
to make you bring him dinner any more. How are you 
going to do that without revealing what happened here? 
Well, you'd better get busy thinking of a reason.

Neil kisses your breast and sits up, still straddling 
your body. "Oh, Kendra. I can't tell you how it feels 
to hear you say that. I'm the luckiest man in the 
world, to be able to love a woman like you. Listen, I 
have an idea." He leans in close to your face like he's 
going to let you in on a conspiracy. "This will have to 
be our secret, nobody but you and I can ever know. But 
it doesn't have to end. We can be secret lovers."

"No," you say.

"Sure we can," he says. He's getting more and more 
excited as he talks. "We just have to be careful, 
that's all. Wouldn't it be great if we could be 
together all day, every day?"

"We can't," you tell him. "Your wife will find out."

"Forget about Bethany. I could leave her. I don't love 
her, you know."

"Yes you do."

"No, Kendra," Neil gushes, giddy as a little boy with a 
first crush. "You're the only one I've ever loved, ever 
since we were small. You and I, we could get an 
apartment together, like a normal brother and sister. 
No one would ever have to find out."

Then before you can respond your brother leans down and 
kisses you again. He pulls his fingers through your 
hair and grinds his chest against your breasts. His 
tongue probes your mouth again, aggressive as ever. "I 
love you," he gasps through the kiss, "I need you, you 
are the only one for me, please stay with me forever." 
He kisses your eyes. He sucks your earlobes. He licks 
and kisses at your chin. He snuffles like a pig in 
heat.

You just lie limp underneath him as he tries to make 
out with you. You're not strong enough to fight back, 
but you won't reward him for this behavior. It might be 
over faster if you just give him what he wants, but you 
won't do that. He's stolen your self-respect, you won't 
let him steal your honor too.

His kisses and caresses move down your body. He puts 
his mouth around your nipple and sucks like a baby. One 
hand slips under the waistband of your jeans and traces 
circles on your naked buttocks. The other hand reaches 
down and rubs between your thighs. You can't help 
yourself--you begin to get wet again. You squeeze your 
eyes shut and try to separate from your body.

Your brother unbuttons your jeans and begins zipping 
down your fly. Now you finally respond. You grab his 
wrists in your hands and hold them tight. "Don't do 
that, Neil," you beg him. "Not yet. I'm still a 
virgin."

His eyes get wide and twinkle. "Really?" His mouth 
opens into the widest smile you've ever seen. "I knew 
you were the one! You've been saving yourself for me! 
You're my perfect spotless Princess! Oh, Kendra, I love 
you so much!"

"No," you say, "I haven't been--" But then he breaks 
your grip and you realize there's no point in arguing. 
Your brother thinks you're his Princess, and you're not 
strong enough to do anything about it.

Maybe if you'd worn nasty white cotton granny panties, 
that might have slowed Neil down. But you had to wear 
the comfy silky ones, which are now soaked through. 
Neil is like a kid on Christmas morning as he pulls 
down first your jeans, then your panties. You look down 
at your thick thighs, your chubby belly. The tip of his 
erection is poking out of his pants, soaked with his 
sperm. It should never have been like this.

The head of his penis sticks into your vagina briefly. 
He stretches himself back up to kiss you, and as his 
tongue penetrates your lips his penis penetrates your 
virginity. You've never felt such pain as when he tears 
through you. It's tearing you in two. Surely his penis 
is poking out through your spine. He just lies there 
for a moment, his tongue and his penis both inside your 
body. 

Then he begins to move, the same slow grinding you felt 
a few minutes ago. But this time you feel it moving in 
and out between your thighs. He kisses you and kisses 
you, twiddling your nipples and stroking your hair. The 
grinding picks up speed. You can't breathe under his 
weight. His penis is so huge.

Then he goes rigid. He makes that face again. He bucks 
up and down on you as he shoots his sperm into your 
body. And you can't stop your vagina from clenching 
around him and squeezing him for all he's worth. You 
moan, and hate yourself. He calls out "Kendra! Thank 
you so much! My Princess! I love you! Oh Kendra!"

When it's over, he collapses on you without even 
pulling himself out of your body. He still has you 
trapped. And unless you can persuade Mom not to make 
you come back here, he will have you trapped over and 
over again. His semen is inside your womb. Your virgin 
blood is on his couch. His head is nestled between your 
breasts.

He drifts off to sleep, with his penis still inside 
your body.

You stare at the ceiling, and the tears start to flow.

Darkness falls slowly outside the window of your 
brother's house.

Is this what it's like to be a Princess?

You'll never feel normal or safe again.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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