Brother's Orders

Disclaimer: This story deals with non-con/reluctance and incest themes. This is my first time venturing into this genre mashup, so if that's not your thing, turn back now. All characters are over 18 and in college, which I sometimes refer to as 'school'. As always, all adult scenes take place AS ADULTS. Enjoy responsibly! Thanks!

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Chapter 3

On Wednesday, her first class didn't start until noon, and it was a scorcher. People had already made the obligatory jokes about frying an egg on the hood of your car. So, she decided on a pair of jeans shorts and a white tank top. Sandals would keep her cool. And she put her hair in a ponytail, expecting that sweat would make the underlayers of her hair wet if she didn't. It was so freaking hot.

On the drive over, she cracked open a water bottle, shoving several more into the drawstring tote bag she'd carry for today.

Shit!

Some asshole cut her off, and she barely avoided hitting his bumper as she was forced to swerve into the next lane. Emma laid on the horn, gasping as the open water glugged out over her shirt. "Shit!"

She righted the bottle, pulling into the parking lot. Thank God she got a closer spot today. She muttered a thanks to the universe and early birds as she rushed out of her car with her keys in one hand and her tote in another.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. She was late. Late and running up the stairs until she was out of breath. She took a break on the third flight, cursing. "Who the hell...thought it was good...to have..this many...stairs?" She heaved, eyes down on the concrete stairway.

She only looked up at the sound of a familiar voice: Jonah. "Probably some shitty architect who graduated when the main campus was new."

Even behind lidded eyes, she saw the flash of his phone as it went off.

"Jonah, I'm late for class."

"Yeah," he sounded bored. "And I'm headed out. My lecture is canceled so I waited for you here. Sure dad'll be glad you're showing up 20 minutes late. Good use of his money..."

She couldn't catch her breath to come up with a witty retort, but as he kept the phone pointed at her, she realized again, he was filming.

"Your shirt is see-through." He toned, and she had to cover her chest with an arm.

"I spilled my water. I didn't do it on purpose."

"In a rush? To get here late?"

She glared. That whooshing sound signaled another send-off, and she tackled the rest of the stairway, only to have him spin out of reach as she grappled for the phone.

"Who are you sending that to?!"

"Couple friends..." His voice want taxed at all as he dodged all her tricks, shifting and spinning until she clawed at his arm. "Ow! Bitch!"

"Give it to me!"

To her surprise, he dropped the phone in her hand, smirking. "As you wish..."

But, when she pressed the home button to turn it on, she only got the lock screen. "Damnit, Jonah! What's the fucking password?"

Ha laughed, holding out his hand. "You want me to delete the video?"

"Yes!" She whined, giving it back.

"Fine." He paused, looking around the empty hallway. Damn she really was late. "Pull down your shirt."

She blinked, not sure if she'd heard him right. "Excuse me?"

"Pull down your shirt; show me what you're wearing underneath."

Emma paused, suddenly uncomfortable in the wet fabric, and unable to meet his eyes. "I'm not... " she cleared her throat. "I'm not wearing anything... "

It was only when he spoke that she realized the camera was back in her, filming again.

"Jonah! '

"You're not wearing a bra?" Her brother sounded incredulous, even though she was now painfully aware of her pink nipples showing through the wet, white fabric.

She started again, trying to pry the phone from his grip as he danced easily out of the way.

"You showed up in a wet, white shirt... with no bra?"

"Shut up!"

"Do you want ever guy here to see your tits?!"

He shoved her back easily, pinning her to the wall, and he refocused the camera to point directly down her shirt.

"Huh? Answer me."

"I --" before she could finish though, he was plucking the wet fabric around the low neckline. The fabric felt too tight, cooling as it left her skin with a long pull. She was pissed at her brother, until she realized how it was affecting her, and she snarled. "Just want the hell --!?" She tried to push him away, but he continued, pinching wet fabric, only to have it snap back into place as he let go.

"Stop..." Her voice was flat as she realized how obviously her nipples were perking. Each time he pulled the wet shirt away from her skin, cold air rushed in. Then, when he released it--somehow, the thin fabric was colder than the air. Her nipples nearly ached.

"You like to show off like that? Just like you were in the shower. Facing the door with your legs wide?" He wasn't really asking and she couldn't respond --couldnt move. Could barely breathe. "You want someone to walk in and catch you? With your nipples hard? Like now?"

She couldn't decide whether he was really angry, or just antagonizing her, but all thought flooded from her mind as he pinched the tip of one perked nipple with only the thin shirt separating his fingers from her flesh.

She inhaled. And he reached over to pinch the other.

"Hmm?" He toned, but she couldn't remember what he was asking.

"You know what?" He turned his head, looking down the hall again. Then, in two movements, he'd pulled her shirt down. He anchored her neckline below each breast, and the shirt presented her breasts, pushing them together as they begged to be manhandled. She stared down at her own pebbled nipples, laid bare in the hallway outside Econ.

"Why don't you go to class like that?" Jonah breathed, his voice deeper than usual. "That's what you're doing anyway. You're not leaving anything to the imagination, Emma."

"... Jonah" She gasped, but he didn't stop.

"You want to be the center of attention, don't you? You're a desperate whore and all those guys know it. They don't want someone desperate. They don't want a whore."

Even though he wasn't holding her hands, he had her pinned. His hands were flat against the wall on either side of her head, and Emma couldn't move as he dragged his gaze down her exposed body.

"Have some self respect. Or get on your knees and admit you're a whore. I don't want to see you like this again, Emma. Or else. Understand?"

Tears were in her eyes. He was scaring her. She made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a cry, and Jonah lifted the hem of her shirt again, covering her. When she didn't respond, be pinched a nipple, hard. "Understand?"

"Yes!" She whined.

He stood unmoving for several more seconds, once more, scanning their surroundings. "If you're really that needy... go wait in the empty classroom at the end of the hall after your last class. ... I've got someone who can take care of you." She was speechless as he took a step back. "You just put your nose in the corner and close your eyes. Then wait. If you're gonna be a slut... might as well stop with the long showers."

Her brother left, and Emma was struck still until some undergrad started up the bottom of the stairs.

All said, she was 35 minutes late, walking in flustered and grabbing a seat by the door.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

No matter how many times she pressed her hands to her cheeks, she could still feel the heat of a blush on her face. And even as her professor droned on about Reaganomics, her nipples still stupid like little signposts under her damp shirt.

No, what the fuck was wrong

with him?!"

She couldn't stop thinking about what her brother said. Sending the pictures to his friends. Having someone to

take care of her.

What did that even mean? Was he auctioning her off like an actual prostitute? How many people had seen those pictures? She knew damn well how that neon outfit had hugged her pussy the other day. Even how supple and touchable her stomach looked yesterday. And today...

She shifted in her seat, increasingly uncomfortable as she realized the wet spot between her legs wasn't sweat.

Emma shit up from her seat, exiting the room and heading for the bathroom.

Splashing water in her face only made her remember how the wet shirt snapped against her tits. The intense look in her brothers eye as he accused her of begging for attention.

Desperate.

He called her.

Emma twisted in her feet. She

was

desperate. She hadn't had anyone since a long-term boyfriend took her virginity in senior year. They fucked maybe half a dozen times that month. But, then he was moving... getting settled into a different dorm at a different college, and they called things off.

She thought by now, she would have found a new boyfriend. Or at least some hot guy who was willing to show her a good time, but no.

The guys in her classes were only focused on their majors. The ones in the lunch hall were already surrounded with friends and plenty of women laughing at their jokes. She just couldn't speak up. Couldn't flirt to save her life.

But Jonah said... one of his friends would take care of her.

...

She but her lip looking in the mirror, shifting as friction from her denim shirts heated her thighs.

Some of his friends were really hot. They came over on occasion, disappearing into the basement to play video games or suck at guitar.

She always got a thrill flirting by insisting that she play Grand Theft Auto five. She'd squirm when they hollered, somehow surprised when she earn a wanted star running over virtual civilians.

But none of them ever made a move.

Did somebody want her now? Was this her chance?

She wasted the whole rest of the hour, shifting in her chair, and hoping she wasn't sweating too badly as she made up her mind. She was gonna do it.

Even if it was some kind of prank, she could always flip the tables --pretend she was on some quest to "catch a pervert" and dismiss whatever jokes they tried to throw at her.

"I'm not the one who wants to fuck my friend's little sister."

She imagined smirking.

But at the end of her day, she eyed the last classroom. Was it even unlocked? She hid out in the bathroom until she was sure the halls were empty, then she made her way there.

Her hand hesitated over the overlarge silver doorknob, but when she finally gripped it, it turned easily. She slipped inside fast, closing the door slowly so as not to get caught making a sound.

Jonah said to get in the corner --to close her eyes. What kind of kinky shit was this?

But... with that need between her legs she realized she didn't care. She just needed a little relief. Just one time.

She could play this little game, just this once.

So, Emma walked across the empty room, staring into the empty corner across from the door. She'd never done anything remotely exhibitionist before, so she searched for some excuse, to frame a reason why she might be standing in a corner of someone unexpected walked in.

Searching the room, she finally decided on a discarded stapler against an old whiteboard. Damn this room needed renovating. Finding an old scrap of paper, she marked it down "Remember to turn in assignments online!" She wrote, then heading back to the corner. She stapled one corner to keep it aloft.

Emma positioned herself precariously, with one hand on the open stapler, and the other against the wall. She decided, after a shaky breath, to really close her eyes. Whoever it was, she didn't really care. It was a one time fling. It didn't matter. She didn't want to know.

Emma but her lip, breathing deeply. How long was she supposed to wait? She stuck her ass out just a little, opening her legs in something like an invitation. If anyone else came in, they might just clock her as some stupid, overenthusiastic cheerleader or something.

"Ohmygaaad, I didn't realize this classroom was empty."

She felt herself moisten as the petals of her pussy parted, and she let herself really feel the rough seam of denim against her clit. Her nipples were hard again, and though the shirt was now dry, it clung to her like a sleeve.

When the door clicked, Emma jumped, but decidedly didn't move. She heard it shut again, and she debated shooting a staple into the paper to keep her cover.

But... whoever it was didn't speak. She only heard footsteps headed directly for her.

Emma tensed as she waited for a "What are you doing in here?" Or "This room is for staff only." But nothing came.

She lifted the stapler from the wall, placing it on a polygonal table next to her.

It took a large measure of self-control to return her hand to it's place on the wall, leaving herself partially bent over, open and inviting.

When a warm hand pressed against her waist, Emma gasped, then leaning in to the pressure.

His other hand came up alongside her opposite hip, and she couldn't help but slide her feet apart wider.

She felt his breath on the top of her head as he exhaled a sound of disbelief.

Tall.

Emma kept her eyes closed.

Whoever it was ran his hands up and down her body confidently, like he knew how badly she wanted him. He brushed over her nipples, and she inhaled, luxuriating as he kneaded her breasts through the fabric of her shirt.

Then his fingers finally slipped beneath the lower hem of her shirt, and he pulled it up, twisting it until it trapped her wrists. His hands again traveled upward, and she felt her head tip back. She'd been craving that sweet, skin-on-skin, deep pressure that ached with need and desire. When he groped her breasts --kneading, plucking, teasing --she let slip a little moan. He circled one perked nipple with a finger, alternating to the other and back again, until she moaned again in desperate need.

She thrust her ass back, colliding with his groin and feeling the hot, hard rod there boring into her jeans.

With that, he lifted the shirt entirely overhead, tossing it somewhere behind him on the floor. With her hands already elevated in the wall, he didn't need to shift her before she was bare from the waist up.

Now, Emmy wanted to turn. Wanted to present herself to whoever waited. Wanted to open her mouth and let him explore with her tongue. But, as soon as she started to shift, she was rammed into the wall.

"Oof!" Her eyes flew open to only uneven white paint and the flash of a masculine hand as he wrapped a black band around her eyes. "Hey!"

But he said nothing. The fabric was wide, and she couldn't see anything as she tried to peak out under the arch of her nose. Her hands flew to pull the damn thing down. But the rough shove turned into a full-out grapple, and her hands were caught in one of his hands where he gripped the back of her hair with the other.

She had always thought this pose was stupid in movies --unrealistic. What good was

one hand

, to pin someone down? The actresses were clearly letting them hold their arms like that. It was fake.

But, when Emma tried to wrench her wrists free, there was no leeway. She couldn't break the simple ring of his fingers as he held her right, and her heart started to skip.

She was alone, half-naked in a room with a stranger. A stranger who preferred her blindfolded and immobile. She squeaked "Who are you?"

In answer, she felt his spare hand slipping around the button at the front of her shorts.

"Hey! I --I didn't say --"

That spare hand came down on her ass and Emma jumped.

"You can't do that!"

Again.

Her breath came faster, and the button sprung open. She heard the zipper teeth unlatching, felt her shorts shoved down past her hips and knees to get caught around her ankles. She felt the weight of his foot in their center, and he kicked her ankles to make her step out. Now her ass was exposed with only a pair of lacy, white panties to hide her.

"Okay, stop! I changed my damn mind." She squealed, but, his grip tightened, and he slapped her ass several times, until she could feel the sting of red without seeing it.

The man behind her toed her feet apart, and though she still tried to pull against his grip, he was undeterred.

"Please!"

She felt thick fingers pull aside the lace of her panties from her crotch, and cold air hit the slick pooling at her core.

She gasped as he ran two fingers through her slit. A moan sounded low in her throat, and her body kicked like she'd been touched by a live wire. He made contact with that bundle of nerves at the apex of her clit. And he didn't relent.

He circled her hood with a finger, slipping over that firm little bud at the apex. Then dipping back into the slick glide between the needy lips of her pussy. He was teasing, and she chased the sensation greedily, until he sunk two fingers deep into her sopping cunt.

"Oh!" She worried the class next door might hear. "Oh!"

He had barely touched her, and she was so close to cumming. Though her eyes flew open, her vision was covered in black, and the thought drove another moan from her throat.

Emma edged back, aching to brush against his hard cock, and he pulled her panties down, just to rest his hard length a few inches below her weeping cunt without giving her an inch.

"Please!" She cried out, when no further contact came. "Please!"

Then, suddenly, his fingers were hammering into her. She luxuriated in the sensation, letting her body arch back almost unnaturally. She was gonna cum she was --

"Oh!"

Finally he spoke, husky for the lust in his throat. "Beg for my cock, slut."

Emma moaned loud, lost in her own desperate need. She did it. She did what he said. Promising herself she would do whatever he said. Anything. Everything. If only he would just bury himself inside her and bring her to orgasm.

"Yes!" She nearly screamed. "Please! I'll do anything for your big, hard cock inside me!" She echoed her brother's words from earlier. "I'm a desperate slut, and I'm

so, so

wet for you. I'm dripping down my thighs. I'm holding them

wide open

for you. Please! My panties are soaked. I

need this

. I need you inside me Sir, please!"

She felt the slippery head of his cock as he aligned with her wet home, but he didn't move.

"Please!" She begged, tears spilling out onto her blindfold as she tried to bounce and force him inside her.

"Say 'I'm your needy whore.'"

"I'm your needy whore!"

"I'll do anything you tell me."

"I'll do anything you tell me!"

He was slipping in, just an inch, and it made her wild. She practically thrashed against his hold and he used his entire, hard body to hold her down.

She felt her wetness running down his cock, as he ground into her, feeling her own slick dripping off his balls and onto her thigh.

"Please, please, please!"

"Beg!"

"Pretty, pretty please! I'll be your good little whore forever!"

"More!"

"I'll suck your big cock whenever you want. I'll let you cum in every hole! Please! I swear to God I'll do anything you say! Please! Please just let me cum in your cock Sir!"

His voice wavered, dark and husky and full of promise. "

Anything

, slut?"

She could only whine, twisting piteously to try and get more of him inside her. Her pleas were like a prayer.

Please please please. Please please please.

He only breathed, giving her half-hearted, fake thrusts and circling her clit until she was well-and-truly crying. Somewhere along the line, he'd released her hands, but she could only grip the surface in front of her, dragging her nails down the drywall like she could claw her way out of this desperation.

"Please..."

"One last thing..." he panted --not from exertion, but the toll of control. He wanted to drive into her pussy just as badly as she needed him there.

She moaned at the thought, aching to feel his cum spilling out of her. Her pussy was clenching around just the first two inches, and she felt the great lengths of him anchored behind her.