For the Sake of Purity

James has been obsessed with his sister ever since her eighteenth birthday, when their religious extremist parents submitted her to a procedure that sealed her clit behind a metal shield. Now, he finds himself driven to find out whether his sister is capable of reaching sexual satisfaction. 10.5k words, dark content rating.

Content tags/warnings: incest (brother/sister); dubious consent; religious and misogynist abuse; emotional abuse by a parent; nonconsensual clit shield piercing; brief mention of female genital mutilation/female circumcision

James had been obsessed with his sister's body since her eighteenth birthday.

He knew it was wrong. They'd both been raised in a God-fearing household, after all. His sister, who had been saddled with the name Purity by their parents, had only ever done her best to live up to it: she never flirted with boys, never went on dates, never even so much as wore a low-cut shirt. She certainly hadn't done anything to invite James' attention.

In his mind, his parents were at least partly to blame for his obsession. It went back to that eighteenth birthday, and what they had done to Purity then, the procedure that they'd treated as a kind of twisted birthday present.

A doctor had come to the house--a specialist who performed similar services for religiously-inclined families across the country--and had outfitted Purity with what their parents called her 'promise button': a set of piercings at the crown of her vulva and a little cap of metal that locked into them, sealing her clit away behind it.

To protect her from the temptation of sin, they said, and to free her mind to focus on a woman's more Godly pursuits; the running of a household, the raising of children, and so on.

The procedure had been done in Purity's bedroom, for her own comfort, and James had been required to attend and observe. There had been a sheet over her hips for modesty, but it hadn't hidden anything when the doctor was actually between her legs.

He vividly remembered the sight of his sister's virgin sex, pink and fleshy, the skin flushed with a bit of irritation from being shaved the night before. He remembered her vulnerable little nub, exposed to the light by the doctor's gloved fingers for a few precious moments before being hidden away forever behind the little steel shield.

Hypothetically, she could have the button removed by the same doctor when she married, if her husband agreed.

But there seemed to be a tacit agreement between Purity and their parents that she wouldn't marry. Their mother was ill, requiring more and more care as she aged, and Purity had stepped into the role of her full-time caretaker around the time when James had gone off to college.

At college, James had met other women--charming women, pretty women, worldly women--but they hadn't done anything to wash away that memory of his sister's sex, the first one he'd seen, and the only one he knew of that had been so cruelly altered.

In fact, the more women he slept with, and the more he learned with regards to how women's bodies worked, the more he found himself dwelling on Purity and her promise button.

She hadn't seemed distressed at the time, except at the pain of the piercing needle; and she'd never complained since--at least, not to him.

Whenever James came home from college, over holidays and vacations, he found himself watching his sister and...wondering.

Was she truly free of any kind of sinful desire, like their parents wanted? That seemed unlikely. Surely she must experience some urges of the flesh, some need for pleasure and release.

Did she ever, in the privacy of her room, put her hand between her legs? Had she found a way to satisfy herself--or was she frustrated by that bit of metal, that holy shield covering the most sensitive part of her anatomy?

James recognized, of course, that this wasn't typically the kind of question that a brother should have about his sister.

But he had to measure that social taboo against the reality of Purity's life: she had no husband, no boyfriend, no lover. She had never so much as been alone with a man outside of their family, and likely never would be, at least not until she aged well beyond her sexual prime. Even her friendships with other women were severely limited, often restricted to Bible groups and other church-based gatherings; she was rarely out of their parents' sight and supervision during daylight hours, treated more like a bizarre combination of a child and a maid than the full-grown young woman that she was.

Who else but James to see to her sexual welfare, then? Wouldn't it be a cruelty, not to at least ensure that Purity wasn't suffering from their parents' extreme act of control over her body?

These thoughts built inside of him, year after year, until he finally chose a time to act: his final summer vacation home from college, the last year before his parents would be expecting him to seriously apply himself to the prospect of starting his career and finding a wife.

Purity was as quiet and sweet as always, dedicating most of her time to the care of their mother, who was now practically bed-ridden: she would fetch food, change the sheets, and keep the bitter, haranguing woman company all day, accepting the insults and preaching lectures with good humor and a gentle temper that bordered on Saint-like. But whenever James could contrive to give her a break from their mother's company, her gratitude was plain to see, even if she didn't voice it out loud.

One evening, once their mother had taken her sleeping-pills and their father had gone to bed beside her, James caught Purity and suggested that they spend some time together as brother and sister, watching an old favorite movie. Purity agreed readily.

And when James encouraged her to lay alongside him on the couch, snuggled together the way they used to do as children, she agreed readily to this, too.

James waited until around midway through the film before, with a casual motion, he dropped his hand from the back of the couch across Purity's chest, his fingertips brushing the soft swell of her breasts under the layers of her clothing and the blanket wrapped around both of them.

"James," she giggled, looking back at him.

"Mm?" he grunted, keeping his eyes on the screen.

After a moment, Purity said nothing and looked back at the screen, too.

He waited a while longer, letting her settle, not wanting to spook her, before he began to lightly stroke his fingers over the blanket. Just very gently, and in no particular pattern, as if he were absentmindedly drawing patterns with his hands. But he ensured the pattern returned over and over again to the spot where he estimated her nipple must be--and after a short time, he could feel it, poking up under the layers of fabric as if reaching for him, seeking the sensation.

Purity took a breath, but again she said nothing.

So James, too, said nothing. Slowly, his pattern became less random and more focused, until he was unmistakably circling and massaging the hard little peak of his sister's nipple.

Purity held herself very, very still against him, as if trying not to betray any reaction. Occasionally, she would shift one of her feet, just a bit, and then would quickly stop moving again; other times, her breathing shook faintly, as if there were some trembling deep in her core.

When the movie finished, the TV automatically switched over to a live channel, immediately blaring sound slightly too loud for eleven at night. James took his hand off of Purity to snatch up the remote and turn down the volume before their parents woke.

Purity sat up quickly, looking spooked like a rabbit at the loud noise.

Before James had a chance to say anything, she stuttered, "I'll--I must go to bed," and then stood and hurried away.

***

James worried at first that he had crossed a line, that perhaps he'd made his sister uncomfortable and she hadn't known how to tell him to stop.

He waited two days before asking if Purity would like to watch another film with him.

She said yes.

***

This time, James wasted no time in draping his hand over the soft rounds of Purity's breasts. He went to the other nipple, the one that he had neglected the first time; he knew, in some women, one was more sensitive than the other, and he was curious if Purity's body favored the left or the right.

Purity inhaled audibly as her brother's fingers brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves, but her gaze remained fixed on the television screen. Once again, she held herself very still as James began to rub and caress her.

Then, after about fifteen minutes of his ministrations--just as Jame was beginning to think that he might switch from left to right again--Purity tugged down the blanket.

She only pulled it down a couple of inches, just enough to free her chest, so that there was one less layer of fabric between James' fingers and her body...just enough for James to discover, astounded, that Purity wasn't wearing a bra.

He dragged his fingers slowly over his sister's nipple again, now only separated from her sensitive skin by the thin fabric of her t-shirt, and he felt a massive tremble go down her spine. It started in her chest and ended in her toes, which shook and squirmed, tangling in the blanket and then with his feet as she swallowed back some sort of sound that had tried to let loose.

James took a careful breath, trying to contain the sudden surge of his own lust.

This is for Purity, he reminded himself. This is for the sake of her pleasure. I mustn't take advantage.

But he couldn't resist the urge to tuck his face in closer to her, first inhaling the scent of her hair and then pressing his lips against the delicate shell of her ear. When he breathed out across it, she shuddered again, and he wasn't surprised; he'd known more than one woman who had a powerful reaction to their ears being blown on or kissed or whispered into.

"Purity," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, and traced his thumbnail over the little bump of her nipple under the thin fabric--and she whined, her body undulating against his in an instinctive surge, her hips seeking something to grind into.

She immediately turned her face away in obvious embarrassment, hiding in the throw-pillow that they both rested on.

James shushed her and pulled her closer against him, tugging up the blanket so that it covered her up to her chin, but now with his hand beneath it, still tickling and tracing over her nipple.

"Shh, it's alright. Nothing to be shy about, there's nothing wrong with how you feel."

"James..." she murmured without lifting her face, the shame and want both clear in her voice despite the muffle of the pillow.

"Shhh. Just let me take care of you. You spend all day taking care of mother, don't you? You deserve to have your needs seen to, too." As he spoke, quiet and into her ear--perhaps that wasn't quite fair, because he could feel how she shook every time his breath ghosted across her skin--he moved his fingers to her other nipple, tracing his nails there gently now.

Purity responded to this new stimulation with a great, heaving breath, her hips shifting again in a jerky little motion like she was trying to still them.

He brushed his lips over her ear in a gentle kiss to reassure her, and then--moving very slowly, so as not to frighten her--he used his knee to work her thighs apart, wedging one of his legs between hers. He tugged up the loose material of her skirt with his free hand until the muscle of his thigh was pressed against the undeniable, sweet heat of her core, separated only by the rough material of his jeans and, though he didn't dare to feel them, the certainly much softer fabric of her underwear.

His sister froze again, her breath quivering with the effort of it, only her toes shifting restlessly against the couch-cushions and the blanket.

"It's alright," he encouraged her again, and pressed gently on her hip where he had bunched the fabric of her skirt, tracing the thumbnail of his other hand over the sensitive peak of her nipple. "You can move. It's all fine, Purity."

With a low, sobbing noise of desire, she finally listened, her hips stuttering into movement. He groaned in encouragement as he felt the plush softness of her most personal parts grinding down into his leg, and Purity shuddered again, gasping for breath.

They spent the remainder of the movie in that warm, soft embrace, James attentively caressing her breasts while Purity rode her passion on his thigh.

By the time the credits rolled, James was certain that Purity hadn't reached the peak of satisfaction. It could be difficult to tell with women at times, but with her body pressed so close to his, he was sure he would have noticed; however, she seemed to have worn herself out nonetheless, her movements slowing until she was simply pressed close to him in a quiet daze.

"Purity," he whispered as the credits came to the end. "The movie's over."

"Yes," she murmured, sounding a bit distant, then she suddenly jerked in his arms. "Oh, I--I should go to bed."

"Are you sure? We could..."

"I really must get my sleep, mother has breakfast so early," she said in a rush, detangling herself from the blanket and tugging her skirt back into place, her cheeks colored with two fetching patches of pink. "But--but I did enjoy the movie! We could...watch the sequel. Tomorrow night?"

"Of course," James said.

***

The next night, James worked his hand up under his sister's shirt and touched her directly. Not just her breasts, this time; he ran his fingers all over the soft skin of her body, down to the spots around her belly-button that made her shudder and suck her stomach in ticklishly, then tracing his nails lightly over her ribs until she was biting back little mewling noises.

When he pinched one of her nipples gently between his thumb and finger, Purity let out such a loud cry that he covered her moth with his hand. She whimpered against his skin, her hips rocking feverishly as she ground her soft, sheltered womanhood into his leg.

"It's alright," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. Just like that. It feels good, doesn't it?"

She nodded, her eyes screwed shut and eyebrows pulled together in a vision of overwhelming pleasure.

He took his hand away from her mouth to let her speak. "Do you ever touch yourself there, Purity? On your ladyparts?"

"Sometimes...I put a pillow," she admitted in a shaky whisper.

"Between your legs? Like with my thigh?" he asked, and she nodded. "And do you ever...reach your peak, that way?"

"My peak?"

James thought carefully about how to explain an orgasm to his sister, who had doubtlessly had very little in the way of sexual education. "How do you decide when to stop?"

"I just...get tired, eventually."

"But you would still want to keep going, if you weren't tired?"

"Yes," she admitted quietly, starting to sound embarrassed. "Is that bad? Am I--am I very whorish?"

"No, absolutely not. There's nothing wrong with you," he assured his sister, wrapping an arm around her to squeeze her with a hug while also encouraging her to resume rocking against his leg. "It's alright. This is all completely normal, Purity."

"It's not," she whispered. "You're my brother. I know this isn't the sort of thing that brothers and sisters do, James."

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But our parents have ensured that you don't have any other men in your life, so I'll take care of you as best as I can. You're my sister, and I care for you."

"James..." Purity whimpered, and--as he'd chosen to wear a much softer pair of cotton sleeping-pants this time--he felt the hard spasm of her slit as she pressed back against him. "I...oh..."

"That's it," he murmured, pressing on her hips, and she ground down onto him, her hips working almost frantically. "That's good. I do, Purity, I care about you so much, and I want to be sure you get everything you need."

"Uh," she gasped, a shudder going through her body as he punctuated his words with a gentle twist of one of her nipples, and he covered her mouth again with his hand so that she wouldn't have to worry about waking their parents.

But, despite the increased fervor of her movements and the little cries and groans she uttered, Purity never managed to find the edge of climax that night.

She rode his thigh and arched her back, and eventually James snuck a hand between her legs and pressed his fingers against her cotton panties, feeling the dampness there and--dishearteningly--the hardness of that hateful piercing. Purity whined into his hand and spread her legs, allowing him to rub and massage her through the thin fabric of her underthings, but by the end of the movie, there was no sign that she'd experienced the orgasm that James was determined to give her.

"We could keep going, if you like," James said as the credits began to roll.

Purity breathed hard into his hand, then shook her head.

"I'm tired," she admitted when he took his hand from her mouth. "Is it...am I doing it wrong? You seem disappointed."

"No, you're doing everything right," he assured her. "Go to bed. We'll watch another movie tomorrow night."

***

At dinner the next night, James noticed that Purity could barely stand to look at him--or else she would look too long, staring when his head was turned away, and quickly looking down at his food when he looked in her direction, her cheeks flushing pink.

***

Once they settled down in the living room, James said quietly into Purity's ear, "I'd like to try touching you between the legs this time. Under your panties."

"Oh," Purity breathed, shuddering. "I...yes. Alright."

"You sound nervous."

"Yes," she said. "But I trust you. And--and--I've been thinking of it, too. The way you put your fingers, last night..."

James groaned quietly at his sister's admission, and reached down, slipping his hand under the waistband of her skirt and then under her panties.

She shuddered as soon as his fingers grazed the flesh of her womanhood, demonstrating an extraordinary sensitivity--and no wonder, with her now being twenty-two years old and having not yet discovered a means of orgasm, despite her obvious sexual desires. When his fingers parted her plush lips and found the wetness inside, she let out a long, broken whine, so he covered her mouth again.

He bypassed the metal shield covering her clitoris and instead began to gently massage the sensitive folds beyond, moving his fingers only the smallest amount as he acclimated her to his touch.

She was almost immediately writhing against him, her hips jerking as if he were manipulating puppet-strings rather than the damp, delicate skin of her labia. The whimpers she muffled in his hand were urgent, broken by the shaking of her breathing, the sound lilting upwards--like she was asking a little question with each cry, asking for more. Her hands fisted in the blanket that covered their rocking bodies.

"That's it. It's good, isn't it?" James murmured to his sister, close into her ear the way he knew would affect her.

She shuddered and clutched her thighs tight around his hand, and he felt a little gush of heat as her body spasmed and released some of the lubricant it was eagerly creating in hopes of welcoming something inside.

James didn't plan to disappoint.

He continued to work quietly at her labia for long minutes first, though, until she was no longer tense and nervous but had gone almost liquid against him, aside from the tension in her thighs and her core where she must have most acutely felt her need.

"I'm going to use my fingers," he whispered finally, being vague so as not to give her too much to worry about.

Her answering moan was nearly delirious.

When James circled Purity's virgin hole with his finger, she gasped and twitched, but then settled again, demonstrating the trust in her brother that she'd voiced earlier. James brushed his lips over her ear and continued circling for a while, rubbing gently at the sensitive entrance, before he worked just the tip of one finger inside.