Brother's Orders

As always, everyone's over 18. There are non-con and incest themes as well as violence. If that's not for you, turn back. Otherwise, enjoy!

___

She didn't know where to put herself and couldn't help but stare at his bed, so she walked to the center of the room. He started fiddling with his computer, which was back on his desk, leaving her aimless.

Her eyes strayed to his closet, and she slid open the wooden door, pulling the first t-shirt from it's hanger. His focus didn't leave the computer screen, but he spoke. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting a shirt, dumbass." She pulled the black fabric overhead, glad to be fully clothed again.

Jonah shook his head. "I'm just gonna make you take it off."

"Yeah? And how are you going to explain that if dad comes up?"

Jonah stepped towards her with smoldering eyes. His lust was so apparent that she retreated, letting him chase her in a circle until he laughed. "Oh second thought, I do like you in my shirt."

Feeling armored again, Emma shot back a sneer. "Ha-ha. Ew."

"You really are a fucking brat."

"Jonah..." she cautioned. "You might have the upper hand because of those videos. But Dad will kill you.

Actually

. Literally."

Jonah angled his body, driving her back and back until she was cornered against his door. Her hand searched for the doorknob behind her, but he grabbed her hand in his, pinning her to his door with his hips. He laid a hand, gently, threateningly against her neck, and she felt hyper aware of the way she breathed, the drum of her pulse against his fingers. Jonah leaned in, speaking in low tones against her ear. "Daddy's not here to save you, sis..." she felt a shiver go up her spine, and he drew just the trace of two fingers from her neck, following the outline of his t-shirt against her breasts, down to the top of her pajama pants. He turned his wrist, sinking past the hemline and cupping her pussy in a palm. "This belongs to me now. And the next couple days...? I'm going to fuck you on every surface in this house. The kitchen table and the bathroom counter and our parents' fucking bed." To accentuate his threat he jerked his hips into her, and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the assault of his words--his hard body pressing against her. She wanted to argue, but couldn't speak. Instead he kept going. "Daddy's out of town, Emma. Remember?"

"Oh, shit."

Business trip. Three days.

He'd be back late sometime Sunday. It was this stupid excuse for his company to wine and dine execs and rich clients in Vegas once a year. He even took Jonah a couple times. But this time, Jonah stayed home. With her. In his bedroom.

"Take off my shirt, Emma."

She stared blankly at his chest for several seconds, trying to find a way out, but her eyes ticked down, and she realized he hadn't even bothered to re-button his pants. Why would he? They were alone.

His patience wasn't lasting. "Emma..." he warned. "Shirt."

Even though she had just been topless a minute ago; even though she'd been entirely naked in the empty classroom earlier that day...it was different to willingly remove her own clothes. She shrunk smaller against the door. "Jonah--"

"Sir."

She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.

Beat. beat.

Her voice sounded higher when she spoke again. "Sir..." but she didn't have an argument. Didn't have anything to make him stop.

"Emma..." The way he said her name made her squeak, and she angled her eyes up towards the ceiling. "I can be a nice brother...or a mean brother." He drew his fingers so gently down, tracing outside the shirt until her nipples perked under his touch. "I can pinch you, and spank you. I can fuck you hard and fast, and yank you by the hair to every room. I can throw you down and fuck you on the floor or against the wall. I can hurt you..."

He shifted the hand still cupping her womanhood, to rest a single finger between her pussy lips--feather-light against her clit. She swallowed, remembering how she'd screamed when he pinched her there...just like he wanted.

"Or..." he spoke low, starting to stroke her clit. "I can be a nice brother. I can make you throw your head back...make you moan. I've already shown you. I know how much you liked it. Remember? You begged for it. Don't you wanna be a good girl again?"

She tried to breathe her way through the waves of arousal that crashed with every sentence. Tried to shut them down, and chase them away.

"You don't have a choice, Emma. I'm gonna take what I want. I'm gonna cum in every hole. I"m going to make you hold my cum in your mouth and swallow for the camera. I'm gonna make you pulse around my cock and cum for me again, and again, and again."

"Jonah--" She tried to interrupt, placing a hand against his chest as if to hold him back. But he took her hand in his and pinned it above her head.

"Hmm, you don't like calling me Sir? Would you rather call me Daddy, slut?"

Emma shook her head, denying. "No!"

"Mm...no, what?"

She couldn't keep away from a smartass remark. "No, dearest, darlingest brother."

Jonah sighed hotly, taking one short step back. "Strip." He commanded.

All the tenderness from just a moment before was gone, and she blinked up at him. "But--"

"Strip!"

Emma flinched back at his shout, now fully ensured that the house was indeed empty. "I--"

"Emma..." He toned carefully. "Last chance."

She remembered how he said he was never going to give her a choice, the violent promise under those words. She gripped the hem of his shirt covering her, and battled herself for a few moments, before holding her breath and taking it overhead. Emma crammed her eyes shut, shoving the shirt into her brother's chest until he took it. She thought she heard the shirt skitter across his nightstand as he threw it, but kept her eyes decidedly shut.

She felt Jonah loom closer, feeling the phantom sensation of his hands like they were hovering just inches above her breasts. Like he was tracing their shape in the air.

"Pants." He spoke simply, and she tapped her hand on her thigh, again struggling.

With a frustrated half-scream lodged in her throat, she decided to yank down both her pants and underwear so he wouldn't have to demand that too. She felt the fabric slide out from between her feet as he presumably swept it away with a foot.

"Come here." Now completely nude, he pulled her forward by the hand, into the center of his floor, then stopping to hold her again. Her eyelids relaxed, he wasn't doing anything yet...and she breathed in his scent. He wasn't wearing the same cheap bodyspray he did in middle school. Now, he smelled like warm autumn nights, and fresh cut wood. A subtle scent, still just barely clinging to his clothes. But...a vivid splash of sensation forced it's way into her mind, as she remembered gasping in a pull of that scent earlier that day, when he had her blindfolded against the wall of the abandoned classroom.

How did she not know?

Jonah pulled her face to his, kissing her deeply, with his hands cupped around her face. She kissed back, small and tentative. "You want me to be gentle, Emma?"

She nodded, her eyes still closed. "Can you blindfold me again?"

He kissed her again, rocking slightly on his feet. She felt his hum in her lips. "Hmm...no. No, just keep them closed. I want to see those eyes spring open when you realize you're gonna cum for me."

She reined in a gasp, breathing a few times deeply.

"Are you gonna cum for me, sis?" He used the porn-term again, and she was sorry she ever started that. Sorry she'd teased him with that stupid neon outfit. Sorry for whatever led her here.

She couldn't answer. Didn't know the answer. So she just squeaked--waiting for whatever he would do next.

But he didn't touch her...she heard his footsteps circling around her, and it was an effort not to pop open her eyes, and chase him. But she already knew. Or could guess. He was filming her. Again. Getting more ammunition. Some backlog of data for...she could only guess. But she didn't want to know. She just held herself tighter, and he pulled down her hands each time he circled. "Stop it!" She finally hissed. But when he complied, it was by taking both her arms behind her, and pushing her forward with his body.

He turned her, bringing her forward, and she knew from the white light that pierced her eyelids that she was standing directly in front of his computer. If she opened her eyes, would she see that little, blinking light?

His fingers traced between her brests and she jumped. She didn't want to know.

She stood, breathing erratically as he stroked and brushed and squeezed, He lifted each of her breasts, teasing them, bouncing them--putting on a show. "Jonah..."

His hand clasped over her mouth, and he corrected. "Sir."

"Sir," She repeated into his hand, and he let her go.

"The only time I want my name in your mouth is when my cock is buried inside you, do you understand?"

Emma nodded slowly, hoping he didn't notice how her breath hitched.

"Now what did you want?" He prompted her to ask her question, and she shook her head.

"I don't know."

"Aww..." he mocked. "Little slut forgetting something?"

She squirmed in his hold. "Just...fucking..."

"Be patient, slut." As he spoke, he slapped one of her tits, then the other, and Emma jerked in his hold. "Do you have any idea how long I held back? Every time you come down to breakfast not wearing a bra. Every time you walk around the living room in nothing but a towel. The times you and your little friends have sleepovers and I can hear you giggling from across the hall playing truth or dare."

Memories of her most-embarrassing 'truths' cropped up, and the dares about kissing each other, or feeling eachother's boobs. She suddenly understood why his music would play so loud until their father inevitably yelled up to 'turn that crap down!'

Oh God.

He'd called her a tease earlier, frustration venting off in the single word. Had she been doing that?

No. No.

She was his sister. He wasn't supposed to care if she wore a bra or not. Wasn't supposed to notice at all.

"I didn't know you could hear that!" She defended. "I didn't think you were looking."

Jonah scoffed. "Mm, yeah? And that neon outfit? Bending over for your brother til you touched your fucking toes?" He spanked her ass, and she jumped again. "When you come down to the basement to flirt with my friends, bouncing and twirling your fucking hair. You didn't think I'd notice you spilling out of your shirt?"

Emma's face heated and she swallowed, remembering too vividly the outfits she'd put together. And it was true that she never really intended to do anything with his friends. But...it was fun. It made her feel good to leave the room and hear a chorus of sighs give chase.

Oh my God, was she a tease?

Jonah was ridgid behind her. "I changed my mind. You don't get to cum." Again, his hand was in her hair, and her eyes flew open.

The image of herself on his computer caught her by surprise. Next to him, she was so small--looking disheveled and frightened. Jonah stood straight, totally clothed except for the gap in his pants where he left himself unzipped--and none-the-less imposing for it.

There was some point in his early teens when he outgrew her by a longshot, and after that, she knew she wouldn't win their fights anymore without fighting dirty. She'd started kneeing him in the balls and gripping his hair; and he'd started pulling hers right back. But, he wasn't allowed to fight back anymore. Their parents gave him the firm rules that he couldn't. She was his sister; he could really hurt her--they'd explained. But watching him as he pulled her back into the center of the room solidified it. Emma yanked on his arm, thrashing until she hurt herself. She dug in her nails and tried kicking so he'd let her go. It didn't affect him. He didn't miss a step--didn't even wince. He really

could

hurt her.

"That's enough Jonah!"

His hand came down in a stinging slap on her face, and Emma yelped.

"Get on your knees."

She felt so stupid, bringing a hand up to her cheek as tears formed in her eyes. He dropped her, and she couldn't control her fall into a heap on his bedroom floor.

He snapped his fingers at her, while she recovered from his slap. "Stay." He had never done that. Not ever. Though she'd done it to him. Tears fell, and she thought she had no right to be upset about it, but...it just...came out of nowhere. He'd told her to stay, but she had no thought to move as he stepped to his desk, adjusting the computer. She thought he might have set up another angle, but couldn't stretch her thoughts into thinking past all the times she'd seen her brother hold back. When she punched, when she kicked, when she bit. She hadn't realized just how much grace he was giving her. Just how much self-control he'd employed. And now, she felt stranded without it--caught in a freefall with no safety net.

He could really hurt her; he could really hurt her.

When he turned back in her direction, she started wiping away tears with her arm, but more kept coming.

Stop it.

She told herself.

Stop it.

She sniffled. "I'm sorry." Emma didn't know what she was apologizing for. For crying? For slapping him...? All of it?

But, Jonah sighed and leaned down to crouch on the balls of his feet, pulling up her chin with his fingers. He took a few breaths just looking at her, and Emma had to break the eye contact first.

Jonah only rose, standing in front of her. "Get on your knees." Her eyes ticked to his face, then down to the peek of red briefs through his pants. "That's right, slut. It's my turn." When he drew his shirt overhead, she wasn't at all prepared.

She'd seen him with his shirt off, never really stopping to pause and look when he walked to his room after a shower. But it had been years since they went to a swimming pool or beach.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She made fun of him for being a dumb gym bro and the stupid protein shakes with that annoying metal spring ball. She mocked him and teased about how it would never help him get any girls. But fuck. Oh fuck. In this context? With him standing above her and demanding what he was demanding? Emma's eyes fixed on his abs. But it wasn't his muscles that made her rip her gaze away, throwing a hand up to shield her view. It was the top inches of his cock, tucked up and jutting out of his underwear.

"Oh my God."

"See something you like?"

"No, no. No, no." She repeated the mantra with her eyes clamped shut again, and he steered her head back towards him with a hand on either side of her head. "No, no."

"Emma, you remember your little debut? How pretty you looked thrusting three fingers into your cunt and begging for Daddy? Hmm?" Her breath hitched with panic, as each new moment seemed to push sanity farther from her mind.

How the fuck was she supposed to get out of this?

"I--" She trembled as he encouraged her onto her knees with a tug of her hair. She looked up in his eyes, desperate to plead her case. "I'll do your homework--I'll do your chores. I--I'll make you're fucking meals and, and--" She was scrambling, grasping for whatever she had to offer him. All the things she used to hold over his head.

And he laughed. He actually laughed. "Emma, you're not smart enough to do my homework. You're not even smart enough not to moan for your brother's cock like a whore, even when you know you're on camera. Now, be a good little whore and open for Daddy."

As he freed himself from his briefs, Emma dropped her gaze to his feet, careful to keep her mouth closed.

It was so much fucking bigger up close.

She shook her head, fast. "Mn-mn. Mn-mn."

"You remember that little discussion we had about teeth?" He leaned in, threateningly, and then she was nodding. "I'm not fucking around. You can suck my dick like a good girl or I can fuck your throat til you puke. What'll it be? Hmm."

She held up her hands, trembling for a second or two on her knees while he looked down at the top of her head. "Okay...okay..."

He stepped closer, bending his knees just a bit so his cock was at mouth level. Just for a second, when his tip brushed her cheek, she flinched back, but he held her tight with his hand on the back of her head. "Okay...just...just wait...just wait."

Jonah growled, and she knew his patience wouldn't last long. But she was shaking so bad--nervous, and humiliated. She couldn't bring herself to open her mouth yet, so, she brought up her hand, hesitating to reach up and close her fingers around her brother's shaft. But in a few more deep breaths, she remembered the sound of her on that video, and gripped her tumb around his base.

He hissed a little, and she squeaked, surprised to look up and see his eyes closed. A bead of precum slid from the tip as she ran her hand up the length of him--once, twice.

She thought she might be able to get away with just a handjob, but he reached down, putting his hand over hers, and slapped her in the face with his dick. It didn't really hurt--just odd to feel the weight of him, the wet smudges of his precum on her cheek. "I said your mouth, slut. Stick out your tongue."

Confused, she decided to comply, and stuck out her tongue like she was doing a cute picture.

"No, not like that. Come on. You know how." He ticked one finger over the tip, drawing it down. "Yeah. Mm." He praised her as she flattened her tongue, letting it point towards her chin as she relaxed. "Like you're getting ready for my big cock, slut. Like you want to taste every inch, that's right." She watched him reach into his pocket, pulling up the camera on his phone as she sat with her brother's cock in her face and her tongue sticking out like a pornstar.

"Nod your head yes or no. And you better get the right answer." She ticked up from the camera to his face. "Are you ready for your big brother's cock?"

She couldn't bring herself to nod until she dropped her eyes, studying some corner of his floorboards.

With that, he brought himself forward, placing the tip on her outstretched tongue. She tasted the slight sweet of his precum and Emma started to protest with little moans of supplication, too afraid to speak and stop him. But he pressed forward, and she had to open her mouth wider not to nick him with her top teeth. As he breached past her lips, her tiny protests were muffled, coming out garbled. "Mm-nf, Mmf!" Soon he had filled her entire mouth, and her eyes told her there was plenty more. Suddenly horrified by the idea that he might just keep pushing, Emma closed her lips around him. Her hand flew up to take the remaining inches in her grip, and she started to jerk him, moving her head just the inch he allowed with his grip in her hair.

On her second bob, his hold loosened, and she found herself able to withdrawal until he almost left her mouth, only to follow the length of him back down to meet her moving fingers. She looked up, checking for any malicious intent on his face, but his eyes were on her, and she saw only a smug hunger. "You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth." She didn't stop her motions, now guided gently with one hand as he held his phone in the other. Her eyes ticked to the camera twice, struck between anger and embarrassment. "Mm, yeah your fans are going to love that. I didn't think you'd manage to look indignant down there on your knees."

Even as she knew he was goading her, she felt her brows knit together. She was pissed, to be compromised to this position, to have him doing this. Making her do this. She pulled back until he sprang out of her mouth and she practically yelled. "You fucking asshole!"

His grip retightened and he leaned down to hold her at eye-level. "Now that was a poor choice of words." He spun her around, pushing her down to his floor on her stomach, and his meaning was immediately clear.