Twins in College

In the past, Valentine's Day between my big brother and me had been celebrated rather simply, with just an exchange of greeting cards and perhaps a hug.

In 2006, however, Valentine's Day would have a much more intimate significance for us both, as for the first time on this particular day, my big brother was also my dearest lover.

Since before Halloween, I had been considering how to make Valentine's Day a very special one, a day which we would remember for millennia to come. Unfortunately, Valentine's Day was on a Tuesday, which meant that if we wanted to spend an entire day alone, we would need to skip all our classes that day and also call off from work.

However, we decided that we should indeed take the entire day off, as it was our first Valentine's Day together as a young couple deeply and madly in love. Thinking fondly of our wonderful and memorable end-of-semester celebration in December, I suggested that we return to the same hotel near Little Tokyo, and – not surprisingly – my big brother wholeheartedly agreed and announced that he would make the appropriate arrangements.

Neither of us had to suggest it: We both instinctively knew that I would be bound and beaten again for Valentine's Day. Instead of studying, I actually sat at my desk on several occasions, masturbating to thoughts of restraint and pain, imagining the exposed forbidden phallus pulsing strongly and menacingly before me in reaction to my struggles and my cries. When I should have been writing short opinion papers for a class, I was instead scouring the Internet for stories or video clips or sound files featuring young female slaves being teased and tormented while in various forms of restraint.

Thinking ahead to the upcoming visit to the hotel, however, we would not have just one evening together. This time, I would be at my domineering twin's mercy for at least an entire day, and I was desperately looking forward to that experience.

As the big day approached, we chatted about the upcoming experience more and more. In bed, my big brother would cuddle me, touching me lovingly while whispering into my ear how he would enjoy seeing me bound again before him, fighting the bonds as he alternated between giving me pain and giving me pleasure, making me cry out for more of each. And as I drifted off to sleep, my mind would be filled of those very same images, and there was almost certainly a smile upon my face as slumber at last overtook me.

The big question which had been gnawing at the back of my mind for months, however, was what gift I could possibly give to my big brother that he would truly appreciate and which would be a significant symbol of our deepening relationship. I had already given him my heart, which he cherished with every touch, every glance. I had already given him my body, which he claimed almost daily to the unbridled delight of us both. I had even already given him one of my thongs, which was still mounted like a trophy on the wall of his bedroom.

What more could I possibly give him?

At last, the idea came to me. I went online, spent some time searching for the right place, made a number of phone calls to compare services and prices, and eagerly scheduled an appointment.

*****

We both returned from our respective colleges to the apartment at the same time, stepping off different cars of the same BART train and grinning knowingly to each other as we ascended the stairs to the street level. Once safely inside our apartment, we kissed eagerly, a kiss which hinted at the mini-vacation ahead.

My big brother finished his packing while I made dinner: salad and leftover pizza. We ate somewhat quickly, my bare feet nestled in his lap. While he washed and put away the dishes, I completed the last of my packing. With one final hug and his kiss to my forehead, we embarked.

When we at last emerged from underground, nighttime had definitely fallen upon San Francisco, and the city lights looked rather pretty. Love was certainly in the air, quite noticeable by the Valentine's Day advertisements in the store windows and the greater-than-usual number of couples holding hands or – in the case of a young teenage couple two rows in front of us on the bus to Little Tokyo – making out without shame. I wished desperately that I could have kissed my big brother at that moment or simply held his hand, but I contented myself with pressing my thigh against his as I looked out the window.

We stepped off the bus at last. Recognizing the neighborhood, it was easy to find our way to the hotel. And just as we were about to enter the hotel, my big brother stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"You remember the safeword and the safesound we agreed upon, right?" he asked, his tone serious for once.

"Yes," I replied with a nod, my tone equally serious. "'Hentai' and the sound of a siren."

"Good. Now, once we step into the hotel, I am no longer your big brother and you are no longer my baby sister – at least, not until we return home on Wednesday."

I nodded again. "I am your slave and you are my Master. I am yours to command and use as you see fit."

"That's right. Are you ready for this, baby sister?"

I smiled. Despite the deep love and the intense trust I felt for him, despite our previous experience with BDSM, I was a little nervous, which somewhat surprised me. I nodded.

"I'm ready for this, big brother. I'm ready to be your slave. I

want

to be your slave."

"Okay, then." He held the door open for me, and I stepped into the hotel, and thus, at last, I stepped into my eagerly-anticipated role.

*****

I was amazed to be standing in the exact same room my big brother – my Master – and I had shared at the hotel for our end-of-semester mini-vacation. Everything was the same with the exception of the television set, which now had a built-in DVD player. "We could go to that video store in Little Tokyo and buy some anime to watch," I suggested, "perhaps some tentacle-sex hentai."

"I think I'd rather watch you," my Master replied with a lecherous smile, "especially as you struggle for me."

We did not engage in bondage play immediately. Instead, my Master sat in one of the chairs at the table, and I sat in his lap, facing him. If we were not wearing clothes, it would have been a nice position for slowly making love to him, or to simply have him filling me, each of us calmly motionless, as we held each other. Instead, we shared numerous kisses as our hands explored each other, as if we were two young teens each exploring the opposite sex for the very first time. Despite the intimate familiarity inherent with our relationship, it added a sense of (false) innocence to the loving atmosphere within our hotel room.

"Stand," he finally instructed me, and I reluctantly complied, standing beside him. I wore a black skirt, baby blue blouse, white bra and thong, white low socks, and baby blue tennis shoes. My only other adornments were the usual small hoop earrings.

"Strip."

That command I fulfilled eagerly, although it took a lot of willpower to prevent myself from smiling with anticipation and ripping the clothes from my own bodt as I complied. I felt proud that my own twin brother – my Master – found my body so attractive, proud that my Master lusted for me, proud that my Master would ultimately use me for his own pleasure.

Wearing only the earrings, I stood once again, my hands at my sides. "Part your legs, shoulder width," he ordered, and I obeyed instantly, instinctively clasping my hands behind me. Then he reached out and stroked my bare sex, his thumb brushing along the thin horizontal line of closely-cut pubic hair – my "third eyebrow," as he called it – which I had begun to sport since the beginning of the year. I sighed contentedly, closing my eyes, enjoying my Master's gentle touches. He continued to stroke me brazenly, and I rocked slowly against his hand and mewled softly as he extracted the wet love from my body.

"Kneel." I obeyed again, saddened that his hand would no longer be touching me so intimately. But then he held the same hand to my lips, and I took my time in gently cleaning him, licking my own desire from him, savoring my own taste, and I rediscovered the reason why he likes to eat me.

"Give me your thong and your bra." I retrieved the requested undergarments from the pile of clothes on the floor and handed them to my Master. Then, he surprised me by placing them on the windowsill, on the other side of the heavy red curtain, in the corner of the window, so that they were well out of my reach.

"Get dressed. We're going for a walk." That statement startled me.

Our walk was an unusual one for me. A few times previously, I had been out in public without wearing a bra, so that did not really bother me, especially since I also wore a heavy jacket. But to be out in public without

any

underwear whatsoever certainly made me feel uncomfortable. By its design, a thong inherently does not provide much coverage, but not wearing anything at all under my skirt made me feel truly vulnerable. Although the breeze was almost negligible, I could feel the cool air caressing my body where it should not be possible to be caressed in public, and I irrationally feared a sudden gust of strong wind blowing up my skirt and exposing me to the few passersby.

"Are you nervous?" my Master asked, a slight hint of laughter in his voice.

"Yes, Master," I replied quietly.

"Good."

We found a small coffee shop, a cozy place with the feel of a mom-'n'-pop operation. There were only a few customers inside, almost all of Asian descent. I sat at a table by the front window and waited for my Master to order our drinks.

Sitting alone, I had a few moments to think, to reminisce about our previous stay at the hotel and anticipate the events of the current stay. My thoughts created a notable warmth and dampness at the base of my torso, and that concerned me a little, as I did not have a thong to contain the passion which may trickle from my body, which would thus create a wet spot upon my skirt.

My Master returned with our drinks and sat across the small table from me, his legs brushing against mine. We slowly sipped our drinks for a long time, neither of us speaking until we were both finished. It was a comfortable silence, highlighted by the feel of my Master's legs touching mine.

"My sister, my slave," he finally whispered. His eyes spoke volumes of the love he felt for me, causing my heart to swell within my chest and beat a little faster.

"My brother, my Master," I whispered in reply, sliding my legs against his.

"Let's go play."

I simply nodded with a smile.

*****

"No restraints tonight," my Master informed me, "other than my commands and your desire."

I again stood naked before my dominant twin, enjoying how his gaze scrutinized my body as he slowly circled me, inspecting me. I have long felt my breasts are my best assets, and felt a special thrill each time his wandering eyes lingered upon my chest. I was definitely a little disappointed, however, that my Master was still fully clothed, for I would have enjoyed gazing upon his nudity as well. But his clothing could not truly hide his erection, as it created a noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans.

Eventually, as he stood behind me, my Master pressed himself against me, his hands cupping my breasts and squeezing gently. Instinctively, I placed my hands over his.

"No," he said softly but firmly into my ear. "Play with yourself. Use both hands. I'll take care of your chest."

"Yes, Master." My eyes closed, I lost myself in our combined touches upon my body. A good fifteen minutes must have passed as we both slowly fondled my body. Small rivulets of passion meandered down my thighs while soft happy sounds escaped my upper lips.

"I can hear you fingering yourself," he noted with a whisper in my ear. "It's a nice sound. It's a really beautiful sound. Can you hear it?"

I could indeed hear the slight sloshing sounds as I continually thrust two fingers into my own body. "Yes, Master, I can hear it. It sounds dirty, but I like it."

"Then keep doing it." He sat on the bed, unzipped his jeans, and brought his significant manhood out through the resulting hole. "Suck me."

"Gladly, Master!" I had to wonder,

Did that sound too needful, too desperate, too horny?

A heartbeat later, I knelt between his denim-clad thighs, my lips forming a tight seal as my head was slowly pushed further and further down the hearty, magnificent phallus. As I suckled the masculine anatomy, I was all too aware of its symbolism. I was also very keenly aware of its power, surging behind the symbolism, gathering behind the hair-thin dam of will and waiting to unleash its fury either upon me or within me.

I smiled at that thought, and my body cried with profuse happiness, the sloshing sounds suddenly even more prominent, at least to my ears.

I could feel the blood flowing within, reinforcing his manhood, further strengthening that symbolism and continuing to heighten its power. In this state, it was as stern as a stereotypical drill sergeant, as angry as a Class 5 tornado, as strong as titanium, as hot as the sun itself.

My Master filled my mouth, holding my head in place, causing me to gag. Yet I continued to finger myself, continued to cause my passion to spill down my thighs. Slowly, he allowed my head to ascend his solid manhood, allowed me to breathe without obstruction for several seconds, then he pushed my head back down upon his thick shaft.

There was no hurry from either of us. I maintained a good steady level of arousal while my Master ensured I would please him for a long, long time. Neither of us were approaching a point of no return, but that did not matter – all that mattered was that we were together, alone, creating new memories in a place where other memories had been made previously.

And many more memories would be created here in the seemingly endless hours ahead.

*****

My hair still damp from our late-night shower together, I turned off the light and cautiously approached the king-size bed.

"Go open the curtains," my Master commanded from underneath the covers.

That seemed like a rather odd request to me, but, like a good slave, I obeyed. As I parted the curtains, I admired the lights of the city spread out before me. It was a most beautiful sight, and I stood there for several minutes, simply gazing across San Francisco, once again thankful that we had both chosen to come to the Bay Area for college.

"Are you going to stand at the window all night long?"

Only then did I consciously recognize that I was naked, potentially exposing my body to countless unseen eyes in the low buildings across the street. For just a second, I froze in fear – what should a young college girl do in such a situation? But then, realizing that any voyeurs would have already enjoyed seeing me in the flesh for several minutes, I simply backed slowly away from the window, retreating into the shadows of the hotel room, retreating to the bed, retreating to the protective love of my Master's hold as we together slipped into peaceful slumber.

*****

Barely stifling an impassioned cry, I fell upon my big brother, my Master, trembling mightily from the intense climax, the first I had experienced in nearly a full week.

It was a beautiful Valentine's Day morning. I was hunched upon my Master, mewing softly in post-orgasmic bliss, the daylight passing through the parted curtains to illuminate the memorable hotel room, the forbidden phallus still hard and pulsing inside my sisterly body, his hands gently stroking my hair and my sweat-covered back as I breathed heavily into his neck. I was making love to the one I loved, which was what

really

made it a beautiful Valentine's Day morning.

"Rise up," he finally commanded, and I obeyed, straddling my Master as he impaled me wonderfully. I clenched around him, and felt his twitch of response. His hands reached up to my chest, and he gently tugged at each nipple, sending shockwaves emanating outward from those rock-hard points.

"Make yourself cum for me." As he applied steadily-growing pressure upon my hard nubs, I fingered my clitoris quickly, my heart rate and my breathing increasing yet again. The pressure turned from pleasant to uncomfortable to aching to painful, and I cried out softly, strumming my clitoris faster and faster to counteract the twin points of pain being inflicted upon me by my domineering twin.

"Cum for me. Cum for your Master."

I rocked back and forth upon him, causing the fiery invader to shift repeatedly within me and increase my own arousal. My eyes were open, but my vision was clouded by lust, which enabled my brain to focus more upon the polar sensations of pain and pleasure. The complete opposite ends of the sensation spectrum battled for supremacy.

Pleasure won.

I suddenly felt as if I was being crushed, and was acutely aware of the powerful torrents of incestuous love surging high within my body. I gasped for air, but the inhalations were much warmer than usual, and only as I finally calmed from the powerful climax did I realize that my Master was kissing me fiercely while seizing me in a bear hug. He shook violently through his own orgasmic storm, rocking me wonderfully, and I clung to him, both admiring him in his greatest moment of vulnerability and partaking in the same vulnerability as I rode him throughout the powerful ordeal.

Both of us gasping loudly, we hugged tightly, the aftershocks felt by us both. The air certainly smelt of our intense passion, and as my vision began to clear, I realized something significant:

The curtains were still parted wide.

I did not care, and that realization surprised me.

Not long afterward, my Master's stomach gurgled – softly, but definitely noticeable. We both giggled and shared a sweet kiss, then, finally, I disengaged from the forbidden phallus, sighing sadly as our physical connection was terminated.

"Shall I go get breakfast for you, Master?" I asked, standing beside the bed, in view of the window, my head and upper body certainly visible to anyone in the low building across the street who might be looking up at our window.

"Let's go together," he replied. "But I think we'd better shower first, so our loving scent won't scandalize everyone in the restaurant downstairs."

*****

After breakfast, we returned to the small coffee shop we had visited the night before. Again, I wore neither bra nor thong, but instead of feeling nervous and embarrassed about it, I felt free and uninhibited. Again, there was no breeze, so the only way anyone else would know that I was naked underneath my skirt would be to place a properly-angled mirror between my feet as I stood beside my Master waiting for the vehicles to pass through the intersection.

We took our coffee with us this time, walking down to Little Tokyo itself. We finished the coffee and finally began to peruse some of the shops. The shop with the Japanese antiques and furniture really fascinated us both, and as we meandered, we imagined aloud how we would decorate a house with such items. Of course, such fine furniture and antiques carries a high price tag, and we could only afford to decorate in such a manner by first winning the Mega Millions or the Super Lotto Plus.

In time, however, we returned to our loving hotel room. My Master had barely closed the door behind him when he ordered me to strip again. This time, the curtains were closed, so I did not need to be concerned about exposing either my naked body or our incestuous love to the outside world.

Of course, what would likely have been even more scandalous to a voyeur would have been seeing me

willingly

being whipped and spanked and whatever else my domineering twin had planned for me.