Sister's Slave

The moist warmth enveloping my toes upon my awakening was too obvious not to notice. I knew he couldn't still be beneath the covers, as I could hear him once again rushing around the kitchen. My curiosity got the better of me, and I gently threw the corner of the sheet away to reveal a peculiar wet patch surrounding my feet.

"What the fuck," I almost screamed, knowing immediately what this wet patch actually was.

I assumed that he must have used my feet to help him get off while I was sleeping, but this realisation didn't detract from the shock the sight instilled.

However, no matter how hard I tried to deny it, I simply couldn't bring myself to be angry with him. I knew what he'd done, and I definitely didn't expect or demand it, yet any sense of disgust contained within me was almost immediately overpowered by uncontrollable arousal.

I stared at the spectacle for a while, at a complete loss for words or actions. I pondered whether or not to question him about it, torn between scolding him for his disobedience, or ignoring the event in hopes of experiencing it again in the future.

Eventually, I decided to compromise. I had decided that I would let him know that I knew, without doing so in a way that might discourage him.

I didn't bother putting on any footwear as I made my way from my bedroom to the kitchen, all the while my mind racing as I tried to determine just how much of this supposed punishment he was secretly enjoying.

My suspicions only became stronger when I was greeted with the sight of beans and eggs on toast; food that he knew full well would make me gassy.

"Morning, mistress," he suddenly called, literally dropping everything as he hurried towards me.

His hands were cupped tightly behind his back, and his cheeks quickly began to glow bright red. His eyes darted around the room, unable to remain focused on anything for more than a few seconds. He was trying as hard as he possibly could to remain calm, but it was clear that he was attempting to hide something from me. Little did he know, I was already fully aware.

"Did you sleep well," he managed to splutter in between his frantic glances at my feet, still lined with the evidence of his previous excitement.

I decided I would humour him for now, and slowly made my way to the dining table.

"Yes I did, actually. The rhythmic movements of your tongue deep in my asshole were more than enough to send me off!"

I noticed his eyes widen slightly as a small peak began to form under his shorts. I did not react, instead making a mental note of it as I took a seat.

"Any particular reason you chose to make this for breakfast," I asked as he carefully set the plate down in front of me.

He paused, obviously attempting to come up with some sort of excuse. I was still unsure of his exact reasons for his sudden obedience, but I could tell that he didn't want me to find out what they were.

"You've been having a lot a vegetables and dry food lately, so I thought I'd make you something a little... You know..."

"Moist," I interrupted, smirking subtly as I picked up the cutlery.

"That's one way to put it, I guess," he hastily replied, moving his hands down to block what was now his fully grown member.

Again, I pretended not to notice, choosing instead to begin eating. I had only eaten around half of one of the eggs when I noticed him staring intently at my feet with a worried expression on his face. I hadn't planned on bringing it up until later, but this seemed like as good a time as any.

"While we're on the topic," I began, his eyes swiftly refocusing on my face, "There was one part of your worship last night that didn't entirely satisfy me."

He simply shot me an inquisitive look, trying desperately to keep the blatant disappointment he felt from poking out.

"You cleaned my ass perfectly, but my feet still seem to be strangely damp. Couldn't you handle that much of your sister's sweat, bro?"

I was playing dumb, and he knew it. His anxious expression faced slowly from his face, instead revealing one of guilt. He was now staring me right in the eye, though his hands were still firmly cupped around his bulge.

"I'm sorry, mistress," he whispered, his eyes began to tear up.

My compassionate side took over, and my face also changed, replacing a stern glare with a warm smile. He noticed this, and immediately fell back into a state of embarrassment.

"Did you have fun," I giggled playfully, gently swinging my are feet back and forth beneath the table.

He nodded shyly, unsure of whether or not I was mad at him.

"Well that's good," I continued, "But now my feet are all messy again..."

Upon hearing this, he wasted no time kneeling beneath the table, eagerly shoving my toes into his mouth and sucking enthusiastically as his own semen slid down his throat. I returned to my meal as he diligently cleaned the bottoms of my feet with his tongue, pausing every so often to sniff deeply, despite the lack of any real scent.

Though my feet were clean several minutes before I finished my eating, he remained under the table, licking and sucking the whole time. It was only upon hearing the clang of the fork against the plate that he rose from his position and stood upright to follow me into the living room.

"I'm not saying you did something wrong," I suddenly spoke, "But make sure you clean up after yourself immediately next time, alright?"

The cheery tone in my voice banished his suspicions of my anger, which took his embarrassment along with it to leave nothing but a sheepish smile and a quiet nod.

It was at this moment that I began to understand my brother's intentions, but this realisation was quickly overpowered by the sudden odour that began to fill the room.

"Want me lie down again," he asked jokingly, seemingly much more relaxed after the resolution of his impromptu footjob.

Despite the jokey attitude, I could tell us was still being somewhat sincere with his question. Curiosly, however, the beans and eggs hadn't yet had enough time to conjure my brother's breakfast. Instead, the smell seemed to be coming from my armpits.

All the radiators in the house were on almost all the time due to the winter cold, so the room was more than humid enough for the rank stench to reach my brother's nose.

"I'm not gassy just yet," I replied, "This smell is coming from my armpits!"

I lifted my right arm and the smell immediately seemed to worsen.

"I suppose it makes sense," I went on, "After all, you never did clean my armpits after I went to the gym yesterday, and I still haven't found time to shower since then!"

"Shall I make up for it now, mistress," he asked bluntly, only slightly catching me off guard.

"Not before you savour the stink," came the reply.

With that, he sat next to me and plunged his face into my exposed pit, breathing deeply as the hot, wet scent practically swam into his nostrils. Regardless of this, he didn't stop or shiver even once when he slowly began to poke the sweaty skin with his tongue. Seconds later, he was slurping it down like a dog, seemingly enjoying the bitter taste.

It took a few minutes, but he eventually finished both armpits, wiping the remaining sweat off of his lips with his own shirt. Neither of us had spoken during the exchange, but he knew I was satisfied when he saw me grinning sweetly at him from above. I stood and beckoned for him to follow me upstairs, leading him back to my bedroom.

As soon as he entered the room I dropped my underwear to the floor and turned away from him, spreading my ass wide so he could see the new layer of sweat that had formed inside it. Without hesitation, he licked his lips, gazing confidently at my wet asshole as it slowly inflated and deflated in rhythm with my breathing.

It wasn't long before he was greeted by a familiar sound, and leapt enthusiastically into the bed with a small, yet poorly-consealed, smile on his face. My stomach groaned once more as I carefully took a seat on his face, immediately letting loose on his nose. He sniffed intently, breathing in all the pungent gas that came squirting from my anus.

He willingly cupped his mouth around my asshole as a putrid wet fart erupted, floating swiftly to his lungs. Not long afterwards, we was hungrily lapping the sweat from my asshole with his tongue, pushing deep inside every once in a while and skilfully eating my ass as more farts of various lengths, volumes, strengths, and wetness thundered down his throat.

He worshiped my ass at such a pace that he'd completely emptied my stomach in just half an hour, with nothing remaining except the thick, slimy logs that had formed from the eggs and toast. I decided not to push them into his mouth out of fear that he'd become difficult to manipulate in the future, instead lifting myself from his dampened face and rotating to look him in the eye, my pussy dripping mere inches from his quivering lips.

"Hungry, weren't you," I teased, tapping him playfully on the nose and winking at him.

"I've been skipping out on meals, just so I can better serve you, sis," he admitted, turning his head to the side upon seeing my worried expression above him.

"I don't want you to do that," I responded strictly.

"You know full well you'll die if you eat nothing but my ass and farts, even if it does please me."

I could sense that the mood was slowly dying as he looked back at me with his guilty face reborn.

"Besides," I started with a cute smile, "Who would ever be able to replace you?"

He began to smile back at me upon hearing this, though I was a little worried that I'd spoken a little too affectionately.

"Have you at least been drinking," I enquired, a devilish idea forming in my mind.

"Only your sweat, mistress," he answered.

My fear that the atmosphere was becoming too serious was getting the better of me, so I took the first chance I saw to wind it back down a little.

"Open up."

He raised an eyebrow as he cautiously widened his mouth, vibrating slightly beneath me as he tried to imagine what I might do.

Without warning, a hot stream of piss flooded into his gaping mouth, causing his eyes to widen once more and his body to shiver momentarily. Despite this, however, he did not close his mouth, signalling to me that he was comfortable with this new role. Though his face was peppered with a few droplets of yellow urine, most of it was safely caught in his mouth and swallowed.

After finishing, I sat down on his waist as he took a few moments gasp for air before glancing up at me.

"Good boy," I praised.

His excitement was all too apparent as I felt a firm pulsation beneath me. My face shone bright pink and his soon followed. We stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments before he gently pushed me away and ran to his room, locking the door behind him.

I was left alone to reflect on what had just happened, and I began to question what our relationship had become. This was supposed to be a playful bit of S&M, but that certainly didn't feel like I was his mistress, or that he was my slave.

It felt as if we were lovers...