Prologue
A three-part story, about a young man and the Dominant women in his life. I first submitted this story to Literotica in 2017. This is part One, I hope you enjoy it.
My Sisters room
In the far corner of our yard, tucked away behind a row of English hedges and a few thick evergreen trees, stands our old wooden work shed where years ago my grandfather pursued his vocation repairing and making furniture. His oaken workbench with a vintage woodworking vice is still bolted to the floor. On each of the bench's four square legs, shiny new steel O-rings have recently been fastened.
My name is Elliot. I'm twenty-four years old, and on this cold January afternoon, I'm stretched naked across the workbench. My wrists are tied fast to the O-rings while my ankles are well secured to the other O-rings. A pillow under my stomach keeps me comfortable and my behind raised, and although I can't see them, I know the cheeks of my behind are already well striped with red welts. My testicles are held securely, squeezed tight in the wooden vice to prevent me from moving to avoid her whip.
In the far corner of the shed, my Grandfather's old wood-fired pot belly stove is glowing red, the same corner where my older sister Tatiana sits naked sipping a cup of tea.
My being taken to our shed for punishment started two years ago, just after my sister Tatiana returned home from Europe to live with us. I was twenty-two at the time and lived at home with our Stepmother Lorraine and her sister Aunt Lisa. Lorraine and Aunt Lisa were attractive older women, both widows in their sixties, and fortunately for me, they were wealthy and very liberal in subsidizing all of my financial needs.
My sister Tatiana left home at the age of eighteen, the day after I was born. Her leaving home and moving to Europe had nothing to do with my birth, nor was she fleeing any problems at home. She went to Germany to study medicine.
While growing up I did on occasion see Tatiana as she visited us a few times over the years but because of the prolonged absences and almost twenty years difference in our ages, no firm brother-sister relationship ever developed between us.
The four of us now live in the house where I was born, one of the older large two-story homes in a quiet section of Wittsburg, a small town in New Jersey. The house had been in our family for many years and was, like most older homes, not designed for today's lifestyle. The only bathroom we had was on the second floor next to my bedroom and what we called the third floor, was an attic converted into a couple of small bedrooms, one of which was the bedroom Tatiana moved into when she returned.
I had mixed feelings the day my Stepmom told me Tatiana would be coming home to live with us. Of course, I'd be glad to see more of my sister, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if she might take over our household and make some changes that would not be in my best interest.
Any trepidations I may have had about my older sister moving back with us quickly faded when the taxi pulled up and she stepped out. Tatiana was not the woman I expected or remembered. She was a mature woman with an athletic shape and a military posture, almost West Point rigid. She had an attractive face with deep-set dark brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a strong chin. When I say mature, it wasn't so much in years, it was in her demeanor. Tatiana carried herself with a confident assertive gait that demanded respect.
My sister was taller than I remembered, close to six feet tall in the stiletto heels she wore. The top of her white silk peasant blouse was open enough to expose more of her large breasts than I was accustomed to seeing in our small town. The soft round cheeks of her behind were well enhanced by the skin-tight tan leather jeans she wore. Tatiana's long black hair was tied off in a ponytail, while what seemed to me as too much dark eyeshadow along with her sexy pouting lips gave her a sultry look.
As she stepped up to the curb, dragging her suitcase behind, the remaining two buttons of her blouse failed to hold and her blouse spread open to her navel. A heavy bare breast swayed free and for a moment a dark brown nipple peeked out, staring at me, burning a memory into my mind that to this day saliva drips from my lips when I think of it.
Tatiana's dark sparkling eyes darted from one of us to the other but lingered on mine longer than I expected or even hoped for. Taller than I am, her arms went easily around my neck, holding me in a stranger's intimate embrace. The taste of her mouth on mine gave me sexual thoughts about my sister that surprised me. I could smell the odor of cigarettes on her breath as her tongue brushed my lips speaking words into my mouth. "Elliot you've grown up," she said in a whisper that only I could have heard. My hands slid from her waist to touch her behind, as I pulled her body tight against me. "Umm, you're a man now," she smiled, "and a handsome one too," she whispered as she turned her mouth to the others.
Tatiana had only been home with us for a week when I heard excited voices coming from our kitchen. When I edged close to the stairway I could see my Stepmom, Aunt Lisa, and Tatiana were all huddled together at the kitchen table, their bodies touching as they talked, their hands adjusting a blouse, smoothing a hair in place, their mouth's so close as they spoke and laughed. I overheard a trip was planned. They talked about a train ride to the city, shopping all day, dinner there, then back home late at night.
Early the next morning I woke when I heard voices outside, then the constant chatter from the three ladies faded and was soon replaced by the solid sound of car doors slamming. I quickly stood up and approached the window, hidden behind the curtains, I peeked out just in time to see the roof of my Stepmom's car as it drove away.
The house was still, not a sound, they were gone for the day. There was no need for me to hurry, the house was mine and I knew what I wanted to do. I slid my dresser away from the wall and found the magazine that I kept hidden there, then walked downstairs naked.
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs listening, then quickly looked around to make sure they were gone. I slid past the kitchen window and stepped out onto our front porch locking the outside door, and even sliding the deadbolt closed. I thought please, no surprise visits, 'Oh we're home, we're sorry we forgot our money,' sort of thing.
After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I sat naked at the kitchen table planning my day. Most of all I wanted to explore Tatiana's bedroom, go through her panties drawer, and of course, masturbate in my sister's bedroom.
I took my time going through my magazine, choosing the page with my favorite pictures. I liked the picture of a heavy-set older Latin woman, maybe as old as fifty. She had dark olive skin but with the stark contrast of milky white breasts. She wore black sheer thigh high stockings held up by a garter belt, but no panties. The woman wore too much makeup that made her look cheap, like a street whore.
She had been posed sitting naked with her legs apart, her hairy cunt gaping at me. She had cold dark eyes and my favorite, heavy pendulous breasts with thick black nipples and pimpled areola that covered half of her breasts. She held a riding crop in her hand and looked angry, as though she wanted to punish men, and I liked that. I knew the older woman's cunt would smell strong, ripe with sweat and cum. I was sure she had just been fucked; all of the women in my fantasies were always well fucked. I was so close to cumming, I knew if I looked at the pictures too long, I wouldn't be able to resist jerking off and I wanted to save that for Tatiana's bedroom.
