My Sister the Slave Girl:

This is a fictional story based on a fantasy scenario. This chapter establishes the characters and setting before the major events of the story. It's a bit long, but I recommend reading it as it sets up the context for the later scenes and future chapters. Themes include dominance and submission, dubious consent, and cuckold. All characters are 18+.

Chapter One: The Art of Seduction

In my final year of college I finally made the decision to leave the campus dormitories and live in my own place for the first time. I ended up moving into a little rental house near school with my friend Eric, who I had met two years before in a class, and had remained in touch with ever since. Though quite different in temperament and personality, I couldn't help being drawn to his charisma and bravado; a few years older than me and with significantly more life experience under his belt, Eric had taken me under his wing and helped me navigate the complex world of college social life that I struggled to understand. He was confident and friendly and always optimistic and positive, and made sure that I always had somewhere to be. It was a stroke of fortune that his old roommate had moved away for a job, and he invited me to take up the lease.

Living with Eric had many benefits. He had a decent job and wasn't concerned about money, as long as I contributed a bit to the rent, he was satisfied. He was generous with his own money, supplying us with food and booze that he regularly shared with friends. It was nice to feel like a popular host, though I knew all the effort and popularity was really due to Eric. He was fun to be around and kept me in touch with myself, without pressuring me to be anything I wasn't.

There were, however, a few instances in which sharing space with Eric was difficult. He had a tendency to be domineering, if not a bully then at least a big personality capable of drowning out smaller voices like mine. I didn't mind that much, as an introvert I never sought the center of attention, but it could become exhausting to be around. Furthermore, Eric's success with women was something impressive, and he frequently brought back female partners to share his bed for a night. Sorority members, cheerleaders, studious geeks, even a few older women returning for certificates made their way to our house and found themselves in his bed. When such was the case, it was inevitable that I overheard their passions, listening not by choice to the procession of various women orgasming themselves senseless to Eric's extraordinary skills.

I would lie awake and try not to remind myself that I was, indeed, still a virgin. At twenty-two years old things just hadn't seemed to go the right way for me yet. I blamed all manner of reasons: my focus on school, my lack of interest in anyone I had encountered so far, my lack of quality in attractive characteristics. Whatever the reason, not even proximity to Eric seemed to draw any attention to myself from the fairer sex, if they deemed to acknowledge me it was usually a polite but curt "hello", before their fixation returned to the real man they were there for. And so I would lie in bed, feeling my rather inadequate penis grow hard as I wondered what sensations Eric was experiencing as I overheard whichever woman he had over moaning his name.

I'd thought about asking him to tone it down, to be a bit more sparing with the sexual partners, but who was I to do that? Just because I wasn't getting any didn't mean he shouldn't. Besides that, he regularly paid more than his fair share of the bill and made sure the fridge was full of beer. So I resolved to tolerate the regular intervals of charged sexual activity on the other side of my wall, perhaps enjoying the experience of hearing it, of being that close to a woman in pleasure, knowing that it was the nearest I had ever been.

When my younger sister was accepted to the same school as me, I joined the family in congratulating her and celebrating her achievement. Nobody was surprised; she'd been near the top of her class and had always been a strong contender for the best school in our state. She was awarded several scholarships that would make attendance easier, certainly more manageable than my tuition had been. It was decided, in a rather odd twist of fate, that Clara would visit me over the summer to get a feel for the city and the campus, and figure out where she wanted to live. It was settled that she'd be living her first year in a campus dorm, but knowing the area would help her to decide which one to choose. Until then, she'd be staying with me for at least the last month of the summer vacation. Though I'd been given an internship on campus, I promised to be available as much as possible to help her adjust.

I hadn't seen Clara since last summer, having missed going home over Christmas. She was more than four years my junior, turning eighteen that June, and in my opinion had always been a remarkable girl. She was sweet and kind in nature, with a mild-mannered attitude and a bashful, reserved quality. She was devoted to school, and art in particular for which she was going to college to study. Privately, I felt that her dedication to studying had more to do with her need for recognition by parents and teachers than any true passion for the subjects. She always strove to be first, to earn the admiration of her authority, sometimes at the expense of her peers. This fact, along with her shy, introverted nature, had kept her from making more than a handful of friends in school, and she had never dated.

When I asked Eric if it was alright for my sister to stay with us for a month, he had been surprisingly willing, even after I suggested he postpone any big parties and put his sex life on hiatus for the time being, so as not to make Clara uncomfortable. He had only laughed and informed me that he could get laid at other houses as well as this one. After that, I dropped the subject and spent time getting the house ready for Clara's visit. I wanted her to have a good experience, to be impressed with the city and the school and my comfortable familiarity with it all. I admit I was driven by a desire to impress Clara myself, to show her that I was competent and normal, and not the awkward, geeky boy who had left home for college three years ago.

When I picked Clara up from the airport, I was briefly struck by how much she had matured since I had last seen her. Many of the childhood features she had born through her teen years had shifted subtly, developing into a more adult character. She was still a small, lightweight girl, thin and slender and barely rising over five feet in height. Her blonde hair was longer than when I had last seen her, pulled back into a plaited braid, and her visage had lost a bit of the baby-faced quality of her youth. Her personality however, had changed little. She was a bit timid at first, but had quickly gotten over the residual shyness of so much time spent apart and told me all about her final art project, her summer vacation, and the classes she was most excited to take. It was pleasant to spend time with her, listening to her chatter about the plans and goals that excited her. I shared a little of my own experience at school, though she didn't understand much of the tech classes I had taken or the projects I was on. She listened politely, but gazed out the window, entranced by the tall buildings and busy streets with which she was so unaccustomed. I told her a bit about what I thought we could do during her visit, provided she was alright with me needing to work four days a week, and suggested she look online for any events or activities that might interest her. I mentioned Eric, explaining to her that she would probably see little of my roommate as he would likely spend a good amount of time out and about.

At home, she first met Eric in the kitchen, where he was preparing his lunches for the week. He cleaned his hands, shook hers, and gave her a friendly smile while I introduced them. He welcomed her to his home, assured her that she'd be well taken care of during her visit, and insisted on making us something to eat. She was predictably shy around Eric, as she had always been when meeting new people. I guessed that Eric's extrovert energy would likely put Clara off, at least at first, and hoped she hadn't had too negative a first impression. I took her out again that afternoon to walk around campus, and Eric went to see a 'friend' as he called it. When we came home for dinner, he was still out, so we watched a movie and went to bed. I had arranged to sleep on a mat in the living room, giving my room to Clara for her own privacy.

The next morning, Eric had returned, and I woke to find him making waffles for Clara, who was explaining the project she had done to finish her senior art class. Eric, who knew little more about art than me, was listening with a calm, appealing attention that I knew Clara would appreciate. Eric was good at that, getting people to feel comfortable around him. Even shy Clara was happy to find someone interested in her artwork. It seemed that my worries of Clara finding Eric's personality off-putting had been unfounded, and I was a touch surprised to find her engaging with him so readily, so soon after first meeting him. I joined them for breakfast, glad that Eric was behaving himself and not being his usual over-the-top force of energy. He asked Clara more questions about her classes, seeming interested in her degree plans and what she was most excited to learn. After breakfast, he cleaned the dishes while Clara and I prepared to go out again. As we left to visit the city, Eric smiled and said goodbye, more to her than to me.

It was a lovely summer afternoon, a cloudless sky and bright sun as we wandered the streets with no particular destination. I took Clara to a few of the major tourist destinations, and we ate lunch at a park overlooking the river. She was in an exceptionally good mood, snapping photos of everything that caught her eye, and asking me about my experience with the city. Truth be told, I'd spent a better amount of time on campus and at home than out in the city, but that didn't appear to bother her. We were both homebodies at heart, and I knew she would adjust to school-life the same as I had, if not better.

That evening, Eric had ordered Chinese food and shared it with Clara and I, asking her what she had liked most of the city. Unsurprisingly, her attention was mainly focused on the art installations dotted throughout the city, which we'd gone on something of a scavenger hunt to find. This seemed to give Eric an idea, and he suggested that the three of us, somehow inviting himself into our company, visit the art gallery the next day. I was hesitant, it was a bit pricey to get tickets, but he assured me it was no trouble and soon had three tickets waiting for the following morning.

At the gallery, I had the distinct impression Eric had spent much of the night researching some of the pieces and artists on display. He hung close to Clara, sharing some of his knowledge and asking her opinions on the works. She seemed happy to chat, delighted to have found someone with whom she could apparently share her passion. I stayed back a little, not knowing what to say to engage with her now that we were in her element, but Eric seemed sure of himself, focusing his attention all on her. When he spoke in his turn, she hung on his every word.

I could see what was happening here. Eric delighted in winning over new people, and seemed to have a special affinity with introverts and nerds. He had earned my trust and friendship, and was now doing so with my sister. For her part, she was driven by a need for the approval of authority figures, typically teachers who controlled her grades. Perhaps now due to some confusion regarding Eric's deeper-than-expected knowledge of art she had sorted him in her mind as a figure of authority.

After the gallery, Eric brought us to a restaurant around the corner. It was nothing spectacular, but certainly more than I would have been willing to pay had he not agreed to cover Clara's food. During the meal, I sat beside my sister as Eric sat across from us, mainly discussing Clara's favorite exhibits and letting her speak on some of the new techniques she had seen and wanted to try. After we had returned home, Eric announced that he was going to a friend's house for the night, and gave Clara a brief hug, catching her a bit by surprise, before heading out the door. I suggested we watch a movie together, to which Clara, seeming a bit dazed, agreed.

The movie we picked wasn't very good, and we fell to talking over it, primarily to mock the bad writing but also chatting together about other subjects. She told me a bit of what her senior year had been like, how she was glad to be out of high school and was looking forward to a different environment. There was something on her mind, I knew, but I didn't want to ask until she brought it up herself. No mention of friends beyond the few she'd maintained from freshman year, and no word on boyfriends at all. That was okay, I thought, Clara was young and determined and had other important things in her immediate future, like her degree. Besides, she was too good for any of the boys at her old school anyway. I hugged her goodnight still with the feeling that something else was up, but never pursuing it further.

The next morning I woke early, wanting to make a breakfast for Clara before going to my internship work. I made waffles as Eric had done, though they didn't turn out quite as good. When Clara emerged from my room, hair untidy but demeanor like sunshine, she appreciated them all the same. Midway through our morning meal Eric arrived home, announcing himself with a boisterous greeting as he removed his shoes. I offered him a waffle, and Clara gave him a shy smile as he sat down across from her, returning the smile as he accepted a waffle. He asked her how the rest of our evening went, letting her tell him a bit about the bad movie we'd tried to watch, and laughing when she described the worst lines. I sat down beside her and ate my waffle, adding a few more examples of poor dialogue to entertain him.

After breakfast, I had to get ready to go to work, which meant little more than a clean shirt and brushed teeth. It was a tech job after all, not customer service. I was a bit worried as this would be the first time Clara would be on her own since arriving, and I didn't have any specific plans for things she could do. I knew she would be able to occupy herself here at home, but I still felt a bit guilty leaving her by herself. Eric however, who had the day off, assured me that he would keep my sister company and wouldn't let her be bored. She smiled her usual bashful smile, gave me a hug, and went to find a book she had brought along.

My day was dreary and the work tedious, though thankfully it wasn't an unpaid internship, so I had little to complain about. When I left, I texted Clara that I was on my way and asked if she wanted anything specific to eat. By the time I arrived home she still hadn't responded, and it was getting close to dinnertime, so I was just slightly annoyed. I found her in the living room, sitting on the carpeted floor with her sketchbook in her lap practicing her shading. Eric was beside her, watching her draw. When I entered the house, they both looked up at me, and Eric gave a wide grin as he greeted me. Clara smiled too, hopping up to show me the sketch she had made. It was of Eric, and it was quite good. I complimented her on it, feeling a strange sensation that had nothing to do with pride. She had mentioned something about wanting to do a sketch of me, and that had seemed a good thing. There was nothing wrong with her sketching Eric too, but personally I felt that she could have drawn me, her brother, before the random guy she barely knew.

Not wanting to make a big deal of it, or indeed let her know I was upset at all, I said nothing on the matter. I soon realized I had been needlessly peeved by nothing, as she at once insisted on sketching me as well. I kept grinning as I posed for her, not used to staying still while someone observed me this intently. Eric made a joke at my expense, teasing me on not being able to keep a straight face. Clara giggled, and I laughed too, a bit embarrassed but not offended. We ate leftovers that evening, as there was still plenty of Chinese food, and then Eric announced he had some work to do and retired to his room. I was tired as well, and asked Clara if she wouldn't mind me going to bed early. I knew it wasn't the most exciting day for her, but she informed me she could keep drawing as late as she wanted and didn't mind. I hugged her goodnight and watched her go off to my room and shut the door. Rolling myself into my sleeping bag on the sofa, I was soon asleep.

The rest of my week went much the same as that day. After breakfast, which I made early and left out for Clara when she woke, I would go to work. Clara would text me when she woke up, thanking me for the breakfast, and sometimes sending me snaps of sketches she was working on. I gathered she spent the day drawing and watching Netflix, and I felt a little guilty knowing she'd come all this way and was now sitting at home with nobody for company but Eric, who likely had other plans besides hanging out with a fresh high school graduate he barely knew. Still when I got home each day, Clara seemed cheerful and appeared to be enjoying herself in her free time. She had never been a super adventurous girl, and the down time suited her gentle personality. I gathered that Eric had kept her company some of the time, and though I appreciated him for it I found myself feeling rather like an outsider when I came home to find the two of them chatting and laughing. Eric did most of the chatting, and Clara, a naturally quiet and attentive listener, did most of the laughing.

I joined in with them once I came home, and Clara was always eager to show me what she had drawn. A few of her sketches were of things around the neighborhood and in the nearby commercial district, it was obvious she had gone out for a walk around the area without telling me. When I raised my concerns that she not go around by herself, she told me cheerfully that Eric had gone with her. This eased my worrying, because with Eric with her she would be completely safe.

I got home a bit early on Thursday, looking forward to my three-day weekend and more time spent with Clara. I had to hand it to Eric, he had done a wonderful job of keeping her occupied and entertained while I'd had to be at work. It would have been difficult for me to bond with someone I barely knew who was a guest in my home, but Eric always took to those things with ease, and Clara had been no different. All my initial worries that she would be annoyed or even intimidated by him had proven needless, as she was now so comfortable in his company that she returned his frequent hugs and laughed at every joke he made, which he did for her a lot. I appreciated his friendliness towards her, his willingness to welcome her to his home and treat her like a valued guest. It spoke highly of his opinion of me as well as her.

We had dinner together while watching a superhero movie. It was loud and abrasive, but kept the three of us entertained as we ate. Eric and I were seated on opposite ends of the sofa while Clara, as per usual in her quirkiness, sat on the floor with her back against the sofa, her head tilted back slightly onto the cushions. It was a warm evening, and she was dressed in a light white T-shirt and a comfortable pair of small, pink shorts. From where I was sitting, I could see down to her lap, where most of her thighs were left bare by her attire. I'd never paid much attention to Clara's appearance before, after all she was my sister, but I'd always known in the back of my mind that she was very pretty, like a fact that could be acknowledged but not explored. There was nothing wrong with me being aware of her beauty, it was not as if I was thinking anything abnormal regarding it. I was proud of her for it, she was beautiful inside as well as out, and that was what mattered to me.