While this can totally be read as a standalone if bro/sis is your preference, it's really part three. Part one is <a href="https://literotica.com/s/spanking-for-one" target="_blank">here</a>.
Tags/spoilers: Brother, Sister, Dominance, Submission, S/M, Spanking, Slut, Truth or Dare, Oral, Anal, Incest
All characters depicted are over 18 years of age.
Spanking from Three.
My sister seems to like being spanked.
*
Fuck my sister.
Seriously, she was so annoying.
She stood in front of me, one hand on her insolently-cocked hip, making some dubious point in some smug way, and all I wanted to do was yell at her.
But I didn't. I just turned and walked outside.
I'd been away for the past two weeks and only been back a couple of days, but if I thought I could enjoy the rest of my holidays at home in peace and quiet I should've known better. Dad had left yesterday on a work trip, leaving me in the house with Mom and Emma. It should've been fine -- it was only four weeks to go before I could head back to college -- but Emma was
such
a brat, and if anything, she seemed to have gotten worse.
It was like she was looking for a reaction or something.
Pushing
for some kind of response.
She followed me out onto the deck; I heard her behind me.
"It's one short trip. It'll take you, like, half an hour."
"It's half an hour there, and half an hour back. Then you're gonna want me to pick you up afterwards, too. That's two hours."
"It's not like you have anything else to do."
That was irritatingly close to the truth, but hardly the point. "You haven't even said 'please'." I turned to face her, "Plus, if you wanted me to say yes, maybe you could've tried being nice to me at some point since I got back home. But instead it's 'Alex, will you just...' and 'Alex, while you're up...' and 'Alex, get me a coffee'. I'm not your slave, Em, and the answer is no. Get an Uber."
She glared at me, then turned around with a sashay of her ass in those ridiculous tight shorts and flounced back into the house.
I sighed. Thing is, I probably would've agreed if she'd been even
slightly
nice to me. I'd always been fond of her and she was so damn cute. If she'd but graced me with a smile or asked nicely I probably wouldn't have been able to resist. But she hadn't. Her self-entitled, imperious attitude was grating on my nerves, and I didn't feel like spending two hours in the car merely to reinforce her views that I'd do whatever she told me to.
Fuck that shit, and fuck her.
And now I felt like a selfish bastard for not agreeing to drive her.
I sighed again, watching the evening sun reflect off the pool.
Inside, I could hear Emma complaining to Mom. I didn't even need to hear the words to know, from the tone alone, that I was being bad-mouthed. I'd just about had it with that girl.
When we'd been growing up, she'd been the cute little sister that had adored her big brother. She was eighteen months my junior; close enough in age for us to have a lot in common. She was nineteen, I'd recently turned twenty-one. And how things had changed of late.
She'd developed, for starters. Breasts. An ass. I turned around and one day where there had been my gawky little sister, there was now the most beautiful, foxiest girl I knew in real life. Hell, she was nicer than most of the girls I saw online, too. She had the perfect figure; slender and trim, with just the right amount of curves in all the right places. A few inches shorter than me, though quite often she seemed even smaller still, not least because she tended to walk around barefoot, while I did not. Bare feet made her seem more vulnerable, somehow -- that, or sexier. I couldn't decide which. But she was my little sister; 'sexier' was a word I had to keep inside my head.
It didn't help that she dressed around the house as though no one could see her. Which, I guess, was only fair. It was just me and our parents, and they never saw her as anything other than cute little Em. She had Dad wrapped around her little finger, and Mom never had a bad word against her. They certainly never seemed to pay attention when she wore the kind of stuff she was wearing, well, right now. A pair of really short shorts that showed all of her long, smooth legs. A tight, strappy tank-top that showed glimpses of her bare stomach. No bra, for fuck's sake. Like her breasts were almost fully on display. I swore I could see her areola through the thin material, her nipples almost poking through the white cotton. Did she know how she looked?
If she wore that sort of thing out of the house, she'd be called a slut. But it wasn't out of the house, and the only one who seemed to care was me.
It hadn't been like this before I'd left two weeks before, either. She'd dressed more modestly before, I was sure of it, but in the almost-three days since I'd been back it had been the same every day. Even worse, yesterday, before Dad had left. Yesterday she'd been wearing a really short, swishy skirt that barely made it down past the curve of her ass. The sort that suggested she'd be flashing everyone if she bent over even slightly, and it had been paired with a crop top that barely covered her breasts. Talk about under-boob. Dad hadn't even seemed to notice, even when she'd given him a lingering cuddle at the door. I'd had to look away, it was almost indecent.
She'd been really cut up about him going, though. He was only away for two weeks; I didn't get the tears. It wasn't like it was unusual for him, with his work.
"Alex? Could you come in here a moment?" I heard Mom call me.
Sighing, I pushed myself off the railing of the deck and headed back inside. This wasn't going to be fun.
They were standing in the kitchen. Emma still had her hands on her hips, seemingly unaware of how aggressive her body language was. Mom was leant against the counter, trying to look nonchalant, but I could tell she was awkward. There was tension in the air, which was interesting. It meant Mom hadn't fully bought in to Em's bullshit this time.
"Alex, Em says you don't want to drive her over to Milly's house this evening."
"Yep, that's right." I said, guardedly.
"Do you have other plans?" Mom asked, her tone light.
"Not particularly."
Mom nodded, as though she already knew this. "Any particular reason why you've said 'no'?"
"Well... because she didn't ask nicely." It sounded a bit lame by itself.
And she's been a complete bitch
, but I couldn't really say that.
Mom raised an eyebrow at Em. "There you are, then. Perhaps you need to treat your brother with more respect."
She pulled a face that quite clearly showed what she thought of that idea. Where was the Em that had looked up to me all those years? She sure as hell wasn't standing in this kitchen. "Can't you make him drive me? It's not like he's doing
anything
else!"
"No, I can't 'make him drive you'. It's his car, and he paid for it with his own money."
That wasn't
entirely
true; Mom and Dad had helped more than a little. But yes, I'd paid more than half, and the running costs were all mine. Mom could easily have said I owed it to Em, so long as Em paid for the fuel or something. But she hadn't. I got the impression she didn't care much for Emma's attitude, and it was that more than anything which caused her support to come down on my side for once.
Emma glared at both of us, then flounced out. Hopefully going up to her room, where I wouldn't have to see her again for a while.
Mom sighed. "That girl needs a good spanking," she said, shaking her head.
I blinked at her in surprise. We'd never been spanked; Mom and Dad didn't like the idea one little bit. I'd never heard Mom talk like that. She must've been joking.
"It's a shame her father is away for two weeks." She glanced at me, "That makes you the man of the house around here, now."
"Uh... yeah, I guess. He'll be back before you know it, Mom." I held my arms out to her. "Do you need a hug?" I probably asked a bit awkwardly. Mom wasn't the touchy-feely type. She didn't really show affection to her kids, but I just sensed that maybe she wanted to be asked. Perhaps she was missing Dad more than usual too.
She didn't hesitate, simply stepped across the room and into my arms. She pressed herself against my chest and laid her head on my shoulder, and I felt her arms come tightly around my waist. "I'm so glad you're back, Alex," she said.
I let my arms go around her gently, feeling even more awkward. I hadn't really expected her to say yes, and now we were cuddling in a way that seemed strangely intimate. She was pressed to me practically from thigh to shoulder, and I could feel her breasts pushing into my chest through the thin sun dress she was wearing. She had Em's figure, too, and she was in great shape. Any other woman pressing herself to me like this and I'd have to resist cupping her ass. That would most certainly
not
be applicable with Mom.
She pulled away only enough to look up at me, and it served to arch her back and push her hips more into me. "I don't think Emma's being at all fair to you, and I think she really needs to learn some respect."
"Well, yeah, I guess," I said, surprised she would vocalize something so evidently biased. She usually didn't get involved in our arguments.
She rested one palm against my chest. "Well, like I said, you're the man of the house now. If she's being so disrespectful, you should deal with her as you see fit."
"Thanks Mom," I said, a little unsure of what that meant. I guess it meant I didn't have to drive her anywhere.
She kissed my cheek -- another surprise -- then slipped away from me. "I'm going to go take a bath."
"Okay, Mom."
*
It had been a long day. I had intended to watch some TV, but found myself lying on the couch reading my Kindle instead. I was still processing the earlier encounters with Emma and Mom, and watching TV left my mind too much time to roam, whereas reading was more engaging. It meant I could put off dealing with the stressors, at least for a bit longer.
The summer sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon and the room was gloomy in the dusk. My Kindle was an app on my phone, lit well enough, so I hadn't yet felt a need to get up and turn the lights on. Perhaps that was why Emma hadn't realized I was sitting there in the near-dark.
I was only aware she'd crept in when my car keys jangled in the bowl beside the front door, and it took a moment for the sound to register. Then I sat up abruptly, watching her as she prepared to sneak out of the house. Presumably intending to take my car.
"Going somewhere, Emma?"
She jumped so hard it was almost funny.
"Alex! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me!"
I rose from the couch, keeping my eyes on the hand that I was pretty sure held my keys. "Off out?" I asked, my tone still casual.
"Yes. And if I don't leave right now, I'm going to be late."
"Oh? Is the Uber here?"
"Er... yes." She had one hand on the door latch.
"Well, have a nice time, then."
"Thank you," she said, opening the door.
"Oh, Emma?" I said, walking over to her.
"Yes?" she said, not quite turning.
I closed my hand around her wrist. "You won't be needing my keys, will you?"
She froze within my grip, and for a long moment said nothing. Then, "Oh, how silly of me! I must have picked up your keys by accident."
It was artfully done. If it hadn't been for the pause, the slight tremor, it might almost have convinced me. My jaw clenched as I prized my keys from her hand and dropped them back in the bowl. "I think you're lying to me," I said, keeping my grip on her wrist. Maybe she heard the coolness in my tone.
"Don't be silly, Alex. It was an honest mistake."
