Twins in College Ch. 15

Eventually, we regained our feet, and my big brother attempted to remove the cuffs from me, but I quickly backed away, bumping into the bed. "Please, don't," I requested. "I want to stay in the cuffs a bit longer." It was true – I enjoyed the restraint, the loss of freedom in my arms, the way this predicament exposed me to my twin's gaze and touch and use. He seemed to understand and nodded, but he grasped my arm and led me to the bathroom once again.

After wetting one of the hotel washcloths with warm water from the sink's faucet, he washed my face, cleaning the dried tears and the illicit love from me. As he hung the washcloth to dry, I admired my aching chest in the mirror, noting the redness showing through the black mesh teddy, and I knew that I would sport those beautiful brother-inflicted markings well into the evening.

"You never used your safeword," my loving twin observed, stroking my head when he returned to me. "You took the whipping quite well."

I smiled at him. "I liked it," I admitted. "It made me feel more feminine having you beat my breasts like that."

Bending down, my big brother placed a loving kiss upon each breast. "I may hurt you again like that sometime. Would you like that?"

"I think so," I replied honestly. "And next time, I won't be so nervous beforehand."

We kissed briefly, then my twin grasped my arm again and led me back into the room. This time, he pulled out one of the chairs at the table and had me sit. I waited patiently, my mind trying to anticipate what he had planned for me next as he returned to his travel bag. When he returned to me carrying a coil of white rope, I knew what was next...

...an excuse to once again practice the knot-tying skills he had learned as a Boy Scout.

"Just remember," I chided him, "I'm your baby sister, not a set of small logs."

"You may be my baby sister," he replied with a grin, "but you're still just a tyable as a set of small logs!"

And in short order, I was indeed tied to the chair. My legs were free, but my torso was pinned to the back of the chair, with several loops of the rope both above and below my reddened, slightly-aching breasts. With my wrists still cuffed and trapped between my torso and the back of the chair, I definitely would not be able to free myself, relying solely upon my big brother to either quickly free me or somehow protect me from any falling debris should a major earthquake suddenly strike the Bay Area.

He seemed to sense my sudden concern, as he gently stroked my head again and reassured me, "You're safe with me, always." I nodded, nervousness welling up in my chest and squeezing my heart despite the nearly-tangible loving atmosphere of our hotel room. "I also have something very important," he said, returning to the travel bag and seconds later holding up a pair of EMT scissors. He placed the scissors next to the pillar candle on the table beside me, almost certainly more in an effort to quell my concerns than because he really wanted them to be in that particular spot.

I watched as my domineering twin moved toward the television. He turned on the TV and picked up the remote as the shaving scene from Home Alone played on one of the movie channels. Sitting on the bed, he flipped through the channels, until he found a porn channel. Since I doubt a porn channel would come "standard" with a hotel room, I figured that he must have special ordered the channel when he made our reservation.

The accompanying music was wonderfully slow and seductive in its own right, but the auburn-haired babe riding the Sybian by a glowing fireplace was certainly giving a genuine screaming performance as someone off-camera controlled the sex machine. My big brother turned down the sound, then leaned back on the bed and began to stroke himself as he watched the scene on the screen.

My eyes moved almost constantly between the small screen and the forbidden phallus. I was in awe of her vocalizations and tried to imagine myself perched upon the Sybian, but I also ached to feel my big brother inside me once again, to ingest his white-hot love and allow it to nourish me.

In scenes lasting perhaps ten minutes each, we watched as three other beautiful young women tried the Sybian, supposedly each for the first time according to the on-screen captions. For those thirty sexually-charged minutes, I anointed the seat of the chair with my arousal, and I became more and more frustrated because I could not stroke my clitoris or drip a finger inside my weeping sex. I actually became jealous of my big brother, free to gently touch himself to maintain his full length and girth. I was even a little angry with him, for he would occasionally tear his eyes away from the small screen to look at me with a don't-you-wish-you-could-touch-yourself grin. Soon I was squirming in the chair, actually attempting to struggle my way out of my bonds, but the leather cuffs and my big brother's ropework both held firm.

"That's right, baby sister," he said with a lecherous sneer, finally leaving the bed and coming toward me. "Fight the rope for me. Struggle your way to freedom."

He stood between me and the television, so I could not see the action on-screen. I watched, fascinated, as he stroked himself again, his touches more firm now, as I heard the rumblings of the Sybian and enjoyed the needful wails of another young babe. My big brother performed for me, stroking himself, caressing his body with his free hand. Likewise, I performed for him, feeling his eyes undressing me (even though, given the mesh material of the teddy, there was really not much to undress) as I fought with growing vigor against my bonds, even though, somehow, I definitely did not want to escape.

What I did want, however, was to be touched, to feel my big brother rutting into me. My legs were thankfully free, but squeezing my thighs together was not enough to provide me with the relief I needed. I pleaded with my eyes and with my voice, requesting to be touched, to be fingered, to be released and fucked like a worthless whore. And as a tiny Asian beauty on the small screen succumbed to a shrieking, body-rocking climax, my big brother knelt behind me, quickly untying the rope which confined me to the chair.

In no time, I was bent over the bed, my wrists still secured behind me. Making use of the crotchless nature of my teddy, my dominant twin impaled me so quickly it hurt a little, causing me to cry out, the bed muffling my voice. We were both grunting lewdly as he fucked me and spanked me. I was my big brother's bitch, his slut, his cunt, his whore, his dirty baby sister, his slave; he told me as much, and I kept nodding my assent, the phrase "Yes, Master!" naturally spilling from me lips.

"Cum for your big brother!" he ordered, and with a final, brutal thrust deep into me, his climax triggered mine. His fingernails painfully digging into my hips, I screamed into the bed as I spasmed violently around him, milking the last of the white-hot love from my dominant twin.

Eventually, after another long hot shower together, we cuddled under the covers. Naked as usual, we slowly masturbated each other, maintaining a good "simmer" level of arousal, which is all either of us really wanted after the memorable events of the evening. In whispers in the darkness, we discussed the bondage experience, the degrading name-calling, the spanking and the whipping, and we realized that this was something we both wanted to try again, soon.

*****

We both slept fairly late, taking advantage of not needing to go to class. Looking at the digital clock in the television, we had missed the free breakfast in the small hotel restaurant, and we needed to be out of the hotel room in about two hours. Instead, my big brother ate me, taking his fill of my liquid love, then he in turn fed me, his seed quite tasty given the events of the night before which had brought our relationship to another level.

It was with great sadness and great fondness that we finally left the hotel. We made our way back to Berkeley in complete silence, looking at each other quite often and thinking about the experiences we had shared at the hotel.

My only regret about the mini-vacation was that I had never had the opportunity to have my dominant twin use the handcuffs and the wooden paddle on me. The recently-purchased items remained hidden at the bottom of my carry-on, still waiting to be used on me. But I knew that, eventually, I would be able to present them to my big brother – my Master? – to further strengthen our profound bond.