Im Now A Funcle

Mum called out, "Your sister'll be round shortly, she wants to use my sewing machine to adjust a dress for a ball that they're going to, so please try and be nice to her for once."

"Fucking wonderful," I muttered to myself.

"I heard that David." She hadn't of course, but knew that I'd say something along those lines. My sister was only two years older than I, but she and I weren't close any more, and hadn't been for some years now.

"Bye love," my mother called through the kitchen window, she was laughing as she spoke. "Bye Ma," I called back as she walked towards the car. I heard my Dad say something, then Mum relayed it, "Your Dad says goodbye."

"Bye," I yelled, hopefully loud enough for him to hear. Seconds later they drove away to his mothers' house for the weekend, leaving me in peace. Mostly I was required to go with them to Grandmas' whenever they went, but this time I seemed to have dodged the bullet.

Almost instantly they were out of my mind, and I went back to sharpening my new hunting knife. When I say new, it wasn't new, new, it was my Dad's old knife but was still a good one, a Diamond Blade Pinnacle Skinner. I'd lost mine on a hunting trip last week, it'd been just an inexpensive starter knife, the brand of which I'd long ago forgotten as the badges had fallen off. I thought that I must've dropped it on the trail somewhere, but didn't realise it'd gone missing until we'd got home. After I'd pulled everything apart and there was still no trace of it, Dad then reached into his bag and gave me his.

I choked with emotion as I knew how long he'd had it, and it'd been a present from his Dad. When I hugged him, and said thanks, he shrugged and said, "I just want an excuse to buy a new one, what you need to know about the Pinnacle is that once you get it sharp, it stays sharp for ages, but once it loses its edge, it takes a lot of work to get it back, and as that one's pretty blunt, you'll have some work to do on it."

I didn't care, I'd decided to try to save the money to buy my own, but as they go for around $400 progress was very slow. They're handmade and the very best that you can get, but $400 takes a bit of saving at my age. So, since he'd given it to me, I'd spent almost every spare moment using a stone to bring up the edge, and if I was to be honest, it was as sharp as it would ever get, but still I worked on it.

Just this morning I'd cut a sheet of paper that I'd held up in the air, and then shaved some hair from my forearm, but still I needed to give it one last rub. I was so engrossed in my knife that I failed to hear a car pull into the drive, and only realised it when my sister Carol walked in from the patio.

"Dork," her normal greeting to me.

"Bitch," I spat back, again normal, I'd forgotten that she was coming, and would have hoped to have been left in my own space.

She and I weren't close now, but had been earlier, when due to financial circumstances we'd shared a bed, top 'n tail, until she was about ten, and I was eight or so, when our parents decided it would be better if I had my own mattress. It was on the floor of the same room, and nothing at all changed for a while, the mattress was just ignored. Then something happened which caused Carol to make the decision that I should now use it, I worked out later that she was, 'a woman,' now. It wasn't long after that, that we were able to move into a bigger house and I'd got my own bedroom, I was pleased about that, but did miss crawling into bed with her, I guess I got over it ok though.

As we'd got older Carol could always get me to do what she wanted, mostly because even though I'd nothing much that she wanted from me. She had something that I was vitally interested in...tits, which by the time she'd got to be eighteen were large and very firm. She'd let me play with them from time to time, but only when she said so, which was of course only when she wanted something from me.

Most of my mates thought that I was crazy because I'd washed her car almost every week. One time I washed it before she'd even asked me to, hoping to obligate her into letting me play with them, but of course she'd said no as I'd already washed it, and now I'd got nothing to bargain with her over.

There's a lesson somewhere in that for all of us.

We hadn't seen a lot of Carol for the last couple of years after she'd married Eric. I'd tried to hate him, especially when I thought about him having exclusive access to her body, but as he really was a good guy and went out of his way to become a part of our family, it was hard not to like him.

Carol'd changed a lot after she'd got married, she'd always been a know all bitch but now she was even worse. She never missing an opportunity to give me the benefit of her knowledge on just about every subject up for discussion, and to be frank I was getting a bit sick of it all, especially as now that she was married, her tits were totally of limits. Just sometimes all that I wanted to do was punch her in the mouth, and that's why I wasn't too pleased to see her today.

"What brings you here anyway, you're a long way from home, bitch?"

"I want to try on Mums' red evening gown, we're going to a ball in two weeks, and if it fits ok it'll save me buying one, or adjusting an old one of mine. I hope that you're not still wearing Mums' clothes when you're here alone, because if you are it'll have stretched, and be too big for me." I clenched my teeth with anger as I recalled the night that she'd come home early and caught me wearing one of Mums' skirts and a blouse, luckily Carol didn't find out that I was wearing her underwear.

Carol was such a total bitch, and as this was of course was right up her alley, she'd used it to get me to do all sorts of stuff for her, just to ensure that nothing was said about it to anyone.

This went on for months and months, making my life a total misery. Eventually however, I grew some balls and told her go and get stuffed, and that if she said anything I'd deny it, and that I'd already made something up about her to tell them. She'd had a good run out of it, and it took a while for her to realise that the fun times had ended, but eventually she had to let it go and never mentioned it much after that. It was only on the odd occasion when she wanted to wind me up that she started on it, and when she did, I got embarrassed and then angry, and now I was embarrassed and starting to get very angry.

I just so wanted to punch her in the mouth right now. "Fuck you." I was really pissed.

"Wouldn't you like to?" She stood in front of me, legs apart, tits thrust out towards me. I said nothing, just sitting there realising all over again why I hated her so.

Having had her little stir of the pot, she seemed quite content with herself and came over smiling towards me. "Anyway, whatcha doin' Dork?"

I held up the knife and stone, "What the fuck does it look like you idiot?" There was a sharp edge to my voice, which I don't think impacted on her as she moved closer and looked at the knife.

"Oh, your new knife, it's Dads' old one isn't it, how long is it anyway?"

"Ten inches," I said guessing, and then instantly regretted it, as I knew where this was now heading.

"Wow little brother that's the first time ever that you've had ten inches of anything in your hand," she said in her best bitch voice, emphasizing the word, 'little'.

The next instant was just a blur as I leapt from the chair and went towards Carol with the knife in my hand. She saw the knife and perhaps also something in my eyes as she backed away quickly. I followed her, eventually corralling her in a corner of the kitchen where two benchtops meet.

There was fear in her eyes now, "Bro...David...FUCK..." her voice became shrill and then trailed off as I put the back of the knife to her throat. I was pissed at her, but not enough to use the sharp edge. I only wanted to scare the shit out of her and get her to shut up, I didn't want to hurt her, but I guess it was just all the years of taking her shit that I wanted to end, and I of course couldn't punch her in the mouth, much as I wanted to.

"David!!" she said sharply, but the words were cut off as I put more pressure on the knife, forcing her to lean further back over the benchtop. As she did it caused her hips to thrust forward, and as I was pushing against her, it brought a new and different reality to the situation. One where if it worked out ok for me, I might get my hands on her tits, maybe for the last time ever, but it was worth a try.

"Fuck you David, stop it this instant, that knife looks really sharp, you'd better not cut me or you'll be in big trouble." Her voice was rising as she spoke, so that by the end she was almost screaming in fear, and the whites of her eyes were very prominent. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd wet herself right there and then.

The main point though was that I was just tired of her always being in control, and taking the advantage. I knew that she liked to have her breasts touched, as she'd told me so when she first let me play with them. But this crap about only when she said it's ok, pissed me off big time. Now of course she was married and the chance didn't come along very often, it had in fact been years since the last time, and I had to content myself with just looking, wishing, and remembering.

Apart from my being the one now in control, I was also enjoying having our hips jammed together. I of course was aware of it, but I think that she was too preoccupied with the knife and the danger that she was in to realise it.

"David, my back...it's hurting my back like this." She sounded in pain.

I moved slightly, and to take the pressure away from her back she put her elbows onto the benchtop, this caused her breasts and nipples to become even more prominently on show. She caught me looking at them but said nothing, she'd no idea where this was going, and to be honest neither had I. When I'd got out of the chair, my aim was to shut her up, but now this was into uncharted territory.

With her eyes welded warily onto the knife she said in a shaking and not very assertive voice, "All right David you've had your fun, you've frightened me, you've made whatever point it is that you've wanted to make, now just stop this nonsense and let me up." I was having none of that, this moment had been a long time coming, and I wasn't going to let go of it any time soon, but I was going to make her sweat for a while longer yet.

So, taking the knife from her throat I ran it down the swell of her right breast, making sure to always have the back of it against her dress, her eyes got wider as she felt the blade stop at her nipple. "No David, stop this right now, it was just a bit of fun, I didn't mean to make you angry, if it'll help...you can touch my breasts like you used to, is that what you want?"

I saw this for what it was, my sister trying to get back a measure of control of the situation. At this point I was definitely going to be playing with her breasts anyway, and as I sure didn't need her permission, I just ignored what she'd said.

To be honest I hadn't thought about it too far ahead, I'd no idea what it was that I really wanted from her, but the thought occurred to me that if she was prepared to let me play with her tits, without my even asking, what else was she prepared to allow happen? At least her tits were a good place to start, and then we'd see where that would lead us to, and so for the first time since she'd got married, I put my left hand softly onto her breast and gently stroked it. My fingers eventually found the hardness that was her nipple, her eyes told me that despite her fears she was in serious danger of liking it. Or maybe the fear element was helping, people can be a bit strange where sex and its various deviations are concerned.

Pushing my hips into hers might have helped that effect on her as well. Unfortunately, it also was influencing me and so out of her sight I had to, 'rearrange the furniture,' and then went back to pressing myself between her legs.

Sensing that the combination of the knife, pulling on her nipple, and grinding myself into her, was aiding my control over her for the first time ever. I pulled back and very deliberately moved the knife down to the first button of her dress, paused for a moment for effect...then cut it off. Her eyes opened as wide as saucers. "Fuck you David, this's almost a new dre..." her voice trailed off as the knife moved back to her throat; she had that fear in her again.

Having gained her silence, the knife was moved down again until it reached the second button, which was dispatched in the same way as the first. Carol moved as if to say something, and then thinking better of it backed down. The third button, the fourth, and then the fifth, all followed the first two.

This brought me to the next button which was right over her groin, I didn't use the knife for this one, but instead moved it back to her throat, and then used my fingers to undo it...and carefully made sure that as often as possible my fingers slipped between her thigh gap. I dragged this out as long as possible, so that eventually I was just rubbing between her legs, the button having long ago been undone.

"David, stop that, I don't mind you touching my breasts, but touching me there is just not on," she sounded angry, and it appeared that her anger had overcome the fear that was in her, as this wasn't how she was used to being treated. Normally she was the one who made the decisions but not now, and her eyes showed she wasn't happy about it at all, but with the knife against her throat, her options were restricted

Several times she moved as if to get me to stop, but the knife held her in check, she didn't know that it was the back of the blade and that she wasn't in any real danger. But when a man has a knife at your throat, even if it is your own brother, in today's world you can't put too much time into trying to work out exactly how crazy he is, can you?

Being as I was enjoying touching Carol so much, I decided to undo the last button by hand also, after which I slid my hand between her legs, along the silky-smooth skin of her thigh until it was once again resting hard up against her crotch. The underwear that she was wearing was just what I would have expected of her, being a very sexy satin triangle of not very much at all.

Carol shook her head and said, "Please no, please don't do that again." As she didn't sound very convincing at all, I ignored her, and continued to massage her groin by running my index finger all the way from the front, to the back of her lips. It occurred to me that those very same lips were now much softer and warmer than they'd been before.

Just saying like.

Again, I ran the knife slowly across her breast and down to her nipple, which was as hard as a rock. I repeated the move four more times, and each time her eyes went wide as she thought that I was going to cut it off. Then with a look of real pain on her face, she said, "David, please, my back is still hurting me bent backwards like this."

I didn't want to move as I was quite enjoying pressing my hips against hers, Actually I wasn't pressing my hips against hers, I was pressing my erection against her mound, and I wondered if in fact this was what was causing her to want to move.

Again she said, "Please David, it's uncomfortable and I'm starting to get a cramp."

I nodded my understanding and reaching down with my left hand, grabbed her right leg, and with the knife still against her nipple, raised her leg for her to lie on the benchtop. I was still between her legs, with her left foot now well off the floor.

This was more comfortable for her than before, but of course she was now far more open and vulnerable, and I could see from her eyes that she was aware of her position, it also probably added to the fear in her. Disappointingly she didn't even thank me for moving her leg, even though she was now able to lie back and relax.

I moved the back of the knife again to her throat, and her eyes filled with fear. "Please David don't hurt me, you're starting to frighten me now."

"Good," said the bad fairy inside my head.

Me? well I just smiled. I liked the thought of my sister being frightened, so to enhance that state I returned to running the blade across her nipple. It worked, she started to shake, she was seriously trembling and the effect that this had on her breasts was interesting to say the least, they were like large plates of jelly.

I then used the knife to slowly move first the right side of her dress from her breast, and then moved the left side away too, at which time I paused to admire the view. They were a magnificent 36C, I knew this from the many times that she'd told me so. Ok so from time to time I'd borrowed her underwear if you must know, what's so strange about that? I could have used Mums', but I'm not that sick, some are, but not me.

Several times I ran the back of the knife across her breast, pausing as it reached the nipple, before running it down the other side, I was enjoying this a lot, probably because she wasn't. But soon, I couldn't control myself any longer. I just had to see her naked breasts, so I put the knife between them under her bra, and with a quick upwards movement sliced clean through the fabric connecting the two cups.

Carol yelped, "That's a new bra, I only bought it last week, fuck you David."

I looked at her without speaking, and then slowly brought the knife to touch the inside of her left breast, and then almost with reverence using the point, unveiled first one breast, and then the other. I caught my breath in wonder, all thoughts of my anger or the knife, or anything else went out of the window.

"God they're beautiful," was all that I could bring myself to say.

"You can touch them if you'd like David." She had a very false smile on her face.

This was the bitch that I knew all too well, what she was doing was to again try to take back control of the situation. She knew damn well that I was going to touch them, and with a knife at her throat I didn't need her permission to do so.

She gave me a nervous smile as my hand reached out and again with reverence, caressed first one breast, and then the other, and then as I caught her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and pulled, the smile was replaced by a more haunted look in her eyes. As I pinched it again her breathing became ragged, she was also biting her bottom lip nervously.

For my part, I was in seventh heaven. How long had it been, two years, two and a half, maybe three, or was it even more? Whatever, it had been too long, and I was going to enjoy it accordingly.

It was obvious to both of us that her attempt to take back control had totally failed, and I was beginning to realise that as she was almost naked now, with the only thing still covering her that small triangle of satin, her chances of changing that were not great.

I, still in awe of her breasts continued to worship them openly, running my hands all over them in admiration, if anything I thought that they may be even bigger and firmer than before.

Continuing to hold the back of the knife against her throat, I leant forward and took her nipple into my mouth sucking on it softly. Without lifting my head, I raised my eyes and saw that she'd pushed her head back onto the benchtop, and had her mouth wide open as the sensations from her nipple being sucked spread throughout her body.

Her eyes were closed, but opened again as I used my hand to push her leg on the benchtop further away from me, spreading her wider. Then taking the knife from her throat, I moved it all the way down until the blade was just lightly touching the satin triangle, and then very slowly, and very, very, carefully ran it up and then down what I hoped was the absolute dead center, where I thought that her slit should be located.