Petra:

I couldn’t believe it. Four days later he was back again.

I let him in, of course—with four million dollars on the line, how could I not? And besides, he was only human…I knew how hard it was for guys to go without getting off. I mean…well, I’d been struggling a little myself.

Not that I’d ever admit it, of course. No, as far as my brother was concerned, I was flying through this without effort. But with every day it was getting more and more difficult, and the temptation to just rub my legs together in just the right way, to slip a finger or two under the waistline of panties…

But I had to stay strong. The amount of money on the line was truly ridiculous, and all I had to do was withhold from pleasuring myself. For two million dollars, I’d be willing to do anything.

Including, it seemed, jerking off my brother.

Like I said, I understood his urges. I’d managed to hold back so far, but realistically…I didn’t know how much longer I could continue to ignore my needs.

I let him in, sat him on my bed, and pulled out another pair of gloves. After Mason DeGraves had made us the offer, I’d tried to cover every possibility—I hadn’t told Craig, but I was prepared for him to urgently need my attention in my room, or at school…I’d even carefully hidden a kit in the family car, in case we went away somewhere and hormones struck.

I figured if I told him, he’d take it as an invitation, and I really didn’t want this to be anything more than a last resort. And after last time, I’d added something else to the kit as well.

“A condom?” Craig asked, a sad look upon his face.

“Seriously?” I replied, one eyebrow raised, and he saw what I was getting at and shut up immediately. He pulled his pants down, his cock came into view, and I rolled the condom on, lubed it up, and began pumping.

His instructions had been pretty basic, but I remembered exactly what he liked. I knew the condom would reduce sensitivity, but compared to…well, it was worth a bit of extra effort.

As I stroked him, I tried to think of something else. I really didn’t want to focus on the cock in my hand, or the fact that it was the first member I’d touched since my ex and I broke up…

Here’s the thing. I don’t masturbate an excessive amount—maybe once or twice a week? I don’t really keep count. I don’t get particularly horny when I’m single…but when I’m with a guy, it’s a whole other story.

Again, I’d never tell Craig this, but I find cocks to be super hot. It’s something about the look of them, the touch of them, the taste of them…I just like cock. I’m straight as they come—normally, my proclivities wouldn’t be a bad thing, but the longer my hand was wrapped around Craig’s, the harder it was to ignore that what I was doing was pretty much one of my favorite things.

And the more I thought about the cock in my hand, the more turned on I got. God damn it, I never thought that “liking cock” would be something that could come back to bite me in the ass…but of course, I never expected to be forced into touching my brother’s.

I’d been shocked, last time, when he’d…y’know…but again, the act is sort of a turn-on for me. I love cock-worship videos, and my favorites are always the ones where the girl got a load blown all over her face. My last boyfriend had enjoyed it just as much as I had, and in the last few months, I’d even considered paying him a visit, just for old time’s sake.

If I was able to masturbate, I’m sure I’d have easily been able to get the whole thing out of my system. But 14 days had really started to take their hold on me—I’d hoped it would just go away after a while, but it had kept building and building and building, and now just the simple fact that there was a cock in my hand was starting to turn me on in itself.

I felt like a pervert, some kind of sick fuck who was actually enjoying getting her brother off. At the same time, a small part of me couldn’t help but reason “Hey, if you have to do it anyway, you might as well get some pleasure out of it…”

The thoughts wouldn’t stop racing through my mind—I was conflicted and aroused and angry at myself, and it wasn’t until I realized that Craig had been talking to me for a while that I snapped out of it.

“Petra?” he was saying, and I looked at him in a weird, guilty shock. He’d been so much more assertive lately…just to add to the humiliation I was feeling, I even managed to find that to be a turn-on.

“Yeah?” I said, acting as aloof and annoyed as possible.

“I said slow down. Pay attention, would you?”

Two weeks ago, I would have snapped at him, told him I didn’t have to keep going at all. But something indefinable had changed in our dynamic, and all I did was nod, apologize, and turn my efforts back into getting him off.

“The sooner I get him off, the sooner I can get him out of here” I told myself, but a part of me didn’t want him gone. Some horrible part of me was enjoying this.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Pay attention, I told myself, and I began using both my hands.

I used the best techniques I knew—one hand played with his balls while the other stroked him. My lube-coated hands were being used to great effect…and the more attention I paid to his hardness, the more I realized I was getting turned on by it.

This would be so much easier if I just used my mouth, I told myself, before mentally swatting the stray thought away and trying to pretend that the cock in front of me didn’t belong to my brother.

But it does, a voice said, and I silenced that one as quickly as possible. That was certainly something I wanted to think about as little as possible.

Before long, my brother was gently thrusting forward, and soon after that I saw the condom filling up with his spunk. It didn’t look like nearly as much as last week, when it had managed to coat the entirety of my face.

Gross, I thought, but without the conviction that I felt the thought deserved.

“Thanks,” Craig said dismissively, tying the condom off and pulled his pants back up.

“No worries,” I replied, pulling off the gloves and throwing them out. There was an awkward pause, and he began to leave.

He was almost completely gone before I said anything.

“Wait!” I cried out, and Craig poked his head back into the room.

“What’s up?”

“I…”

Another long pause ensued, and I could tell he was getting tired.

“I…was wondering if…”

Again, there was a silence, but as Craig’s eyes widened, I knew he had realized what I was getting at.

“For real?” he said, and I just nodded, my cheeks beet-red. “But I thought girls…”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Normally we don’t. It’s just that…”

Again, I didn’t have to finish the sentence. I think Craig realized how much it had cost me, silently confessing that jerking him off had turned me on, and so he didn’t ask any follow-up questions, or push the point any further. But I saw a slight swagger to his step as he re-entered the room, and once more sat next to me on the bed.

We just sat there, two blushing siblings, until I threw him a pair of gloves.

“Oh, I don’t mind.”

“I do,” I insisted. “Put them on.”

After he had, we continued to avoid eye-contact, until I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 2am. If I didn’t start things now, we could be here all night, and I had a busy day the next morning. With an orgasm to prevent sex taking over my brain the whole time, it could be a productive day—provided I got to sleep sooner rather than later.

“Okay,” I said, trying to act as professionally as possible. It had worked to keep this as un-weird as possible so far, it could work now. “I’m going to take my pants off—have you ever done anything like this before?”

“No,” he said, but without any awkwardness. Good. He’d obviously taken my lead. I sort of wished he wouldn’t stare at me so intently, but it was probably better than the alternative.

“That’s fine,” I said matter-of-factly. “I’ll talk you through it. Now turn around while I undress.”

A few seconds later, I sat in front of my younger brother naked from the waist down.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m already quite wet, but a bit of lube wouldn’t go amiss. Yes, that’s enough. Good. Now, take two fingers, and slowly start drawing little circles around my clit. No, lower than that. Lower. Waay lower…here, look where I’m pointing. Yes, that’s—oh, wow. Yes, that’s the spot. Good. Now, normally I’d just do that for a while, but…oh f—…yes, keep doing that. Mmm, yes. Yes.

“Okay, now, uh, take your other hand, and just use one finger for now. No, don’t just—don’t just stick it in. Jesus, Craig. Play with my lips. Run a finger up and down, and they’ll open up like a flower. Once they have, you can…oh yes, that’s it. Yes…slower. Oh, fuck. Sorry, pardon my—oh fuck. Where did you learn to do that??”

I looked down at my brother in shock. He’d gone a bit fast at first, but suddenly it was as my virgin brother had been replaced with a natural Casanova. Without needing instruction, he’d begun fucking me with one finger, and as he looked up at me with a grin, he slipped a second finger inside me, his other hand circling my clit the whole while. I was wetter than I could ever remember being, and as he started steadily pumping two fingers in and out, my eyes rolled back and I could feel my juices start to gush.

“Oh Jesus, Craig! Oh fuck, yes, just like that—oh yes, keep going. Oh pleeease, yes, fuck me. Oh, fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.”

My hips started uncontrollably thrusting, raising my bare ass off the bed. My brother was a fucking pro—his gloved fingers felt amazing inside of me, and as if he’d read my mind, he’d started to slowly increase the pressure on my clit, drumming his fingers slightly as he did. My whole body felt like it was throbbing, and the pleasure coursing through me was insane.

“Fuck! Oh yes, Craig, fuck! Please! Don’t stop! Oh fuuuuuuck.”

Too late, I realized how loud I was being, and as my orgasm washed over me, I crammed an entire fist inside my mouth, just to prevent myself from screaming out with pleasure. Since I’d first discovered self-pleasure, I hadn’t gone this long without cumming, and it was incredible. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed across my body, and I felt dehydrated from all the juices I’d pumped out onto my bed.

“Fuck,” I said, after a few minutes had passed and the golden glow had begun to fade. “Fucking hell, Craig.”

“Was that good?” he asked, a hint of nervousness present in his voice.

“Brother,” I replied, “that was amazing. Fuck. Pardon my language, but…”

“It’s fine,” he laughed. “I’m just glad I could repay you.”

“Uh huh,” I said languidly. Sleep was beginning to wash over me. “Thanks, Craig.”

“No worries,” he said, taking off the gloves and throwing them into the trash. “I’m going to be honest, it’s going to be a challenge, preventing myself from…y’know. After that.”

“It’s okay,” I said with a yawn. “If the need strikes, you know where I am…”

I was asleep before I realized what I’d offered, but fortunately my earlier efforts had been enough to satisfy Craig, and I slept the rest of the night uninterrupted.

* * *

The next day, when I got home, I was surprised to discover Mason DeGraves waiting outside the house, in a car that looked like it cost more than my Dad had made in a lifetime working at the bank.

“Lord DeGraves,” I said when he opened the car door to greet me.

“Get in,” he said, and I felt like it would be a bad idea to disobey him.

He was sprawled out on the back seat—driving the car was a woman who rivaled his maid for sheer attractiveness. She was sitting down, so it was hard to tell, but I’d guess that she was more than six foot tall—an Amazon of a woman. No, not an Amazon—a Valkyrie.

She had long, blonde hair, and was wearing an erotic parody of a chauffeur’s outfit. It was red and black, with a jacket that highlighted her incredibly impressive cleavage. It was topped off with a small hat, but as I got in, I noticed her bare legs. That made me look closer, and as I peered over the divider, I could see that she didn’t seem to be wearing anything on her bottom half.

Lord DeGraves must have seen my look of shock, because he waved it off casually with an explanation that he was offering her six hundred thousand to drive him around for the next three weeks.

“I told her she could wear whatever she liked for two hundred thousand, or an outfit of my choice for six. She decided the four hundred grand was worth a bit of discomfort…and you are uncomfortable, aren’t you, Lyria?”

The driver—Lyria, presumably—didn’t respond, but when I looked closer, I saw that she was twitching slightly in her seat. She kept shifting her weight in a way that caused her legs to rub together, and I swear her hand looked like it wanted nothing more than to dip between her legs…but when she noticed me looking at her, Lyria straightened up and tried to stay as still as possible.

The old man offered me a drink…and even though I was underage, I decided to take him up on it. A part of me was hoping that I could turn this into some kind of blackmail material…but mostly I just wanted a drink.

“Now, Petra” his Lordship said, smiling as I made a face at the taste of the whisky. I’d sneaked a drink a few times before, but this was…different. Smoother, somehow.

I suppose that’s the difference between cheap and expensive alcohol I thought, before taking another sip and turning my attention back to Lord DeGraves.

“How’s the experiment been going so far?”

“Good,” I replied coolly. I had no intention of lying to Lord DeGraves—the threat he’d delivered at our last meeting had really stuck in my mind—but I wasn’t going to volunteer any information, either. In fact, I’d made some careful decisions so far, ensuring that I could be totally honest and still keep DeGraves completely in the dark.

“Good?” he said, that ever-present leer on his face. “Come, now, surely there’s something to report.”

“I haven’t touched my brother,” I said, trying to keep my face as blank as possible. “And he hasn’t touched me.”

“Ah,” he replied with a grin. “So you’ve pleasured yourself, and I get to keep my money?”

“Nope,” I said, and that seemed to shut him up. He stared at me suspiciously, his eyes narrow, his tongue darting across his lips.

“Let me get this straight,” he asked, and I prayed that he wouldn’t ask if we’d gotten off in the 15 days since this ordeal had begun. “You haven’t touched your brother sexually, and he hasn’t touched you.”

“Correct,” I answered, in what was technically complete honesty.

“Nothing of his has come into contact with you?”

“Nope,” I instantly replied, and immediately regretted the word slipping out of my mouth. I’d forgotten about the culmination of our first time “helping each other out”—Craig had cum, completely by accident, all over my face. No matter how you spun that, it was instantly apparent to me that I’d lied.

In those few seconds, I faced a difficult choice—should I come clean? Technically I hadn’t broken our agreement—the papers we’d signed simply dealt with masturbation, a promise not to orgasm by any means other than each other. They’d said nothing about keeping the old man up-to-date.

But Lord DeGraves had warned me not to lie, and I had. If I came clean, perhaps he’d be generous…of course, what was the worst he could do? If I came clean, I’d be forced to tell him the whole story, a prospect I didn’t relish. I may have been living the old man’s sick fantasy, but that didn’t mean I had to share the details with him.

I made a quick decision to keep quiet. Admitting to a lie wouldn’t help me, and would lead to this creepy, leering old man knowing far more about my nighttime activities than he had to. No one knew what Craig and I had done, and I wanted to keep it that way.

No one ever had to know.

To my credit, I don’t think anyone who saw me in that moment would have known what had just gone through my head. Lord DeGraves seemed satisfied, and allowed me to exit his car without any further questions. Before I could walk inside, however, he called me over to the window, and as I leaned in I saw his driver’s hand twitching again, slowly trying to make its way between her legs.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Petra?”

“No,” I replied, and his lips curled with glee.

“Because if you lied to me…”

His hand shot out and grabbed my face, so quickly I couldn’t react. He held my jaw in a vice-like grip, and leaned in close.

“…I’d have to make your life much, much more difficult.”

My eyes widened in shock as his face contorted into an evil visage—I swear I saw flames flickering in the depths of his pupils, and his forked tongue flicked into my ear, dripping poison. His wrinkles were so pronounced, a face full of mountains and valleys—people starved in those valleys, and those who tried to climb the mountains were punished, thrown to the vultures, pecked to death while still falling…always falling.

His nostrils flared, so wide that I could feel myself being sucked into them, hairy black holes in the centre of his face. His big, bushy eyebrows were covered with the tiniest women I’d ever seen, busty, naked and oiled, each one frantically humping a follicle of his eyebrow-hair, desperately needing to get off, but utterly unable to. And his teeth—they were yellow, crawling with mites, and the mites turned to look at me as I fell into his mouth, my limbs sucked off by the force of his nostrils.

As Mason DeGraves consumed me, I could feel the poison he’d left dripping directly into my brain, rewiring my thoughts, feeding on the perversity that was already growing. I tried to scream, but the ball-gag in my mouth prevented me from being able to do anything—I was entirely at his command, DeGrave’s slave to use as he liked—I’d wronged him, and now I belonged to him…

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” his Lordship asked, a mild grin on his face. I blinked in confusion—the vision cleared, and I was standing on the sidewalk outside my house. I’d just been asked a question.

“No, sir,” I answered, slightly stunned by the images that had just popped into my head as he spoke.

“Do keep me updated,” DeGraves said, and with a gesture the window closed, and the limo drove off.

I stood outside my house for a long time, rubbing my cheeks—they were slightly sore, as if someone had been holding my face. But there was no one there…I hadn’t seen anyone since I’d finished work.

After a while I shrugged it off and went inside, I felt lightheaded, and slightly uneasy, but I passed that off as the result of my busy day, and tried not to think about it.

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