My Brother's Slave

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Blackmail leads a college girl down the rabbit hole...
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1/Prologue

My eyes were closed, and my face warped into wonderful agony. The world was narrowed down to the strong tug of my hair and the feeling of being so fucking full I could barely keep myself from falling flat on my face, drooling as I was fucked like a bitch in heat.

I slammed my ass back against his hips as he drove himself into me. His cock felt like it was splitting me open, and I let out a low moan I tried to hide. He stopped, buried all the way to his balls. I could feel the need to move, to push back against him and push him deeper inside of me. I hated him, but I needed him to move.

"Was that a moan? Are you actually enjoying this now?" His voice was incredulous. I could feel the contempt and derision wash over me. It just made the hot, thick haze in my head deepen as I frantically shook my head.

"Fuck you," I whispered to him. He didn't need to know any more than that. I may have had to let him do this to me, but that's all. He got my body whenever he wanted, but he'd never have my pride.

"That's what I'm doing, slut," He laughed above me. The iron-like grip on my hair increased as he pulled back just far enough to slam his hips forward and bottom out in me.

The entire world faded as my entire body focused on that jolt of electricity that went through my body. I let out an undignified squeak as I came down. I could practically feel my brain melting out my ears.

"I'm fucking you like the whore you are," he said as he thrust into me. Every other word was punctuated with a pump of his hips forward, hitting that spot deep inside me that turned off everything that wasn't my body howling for more.

"And you're loving it. Dear god Sarah, you actually love this, don't you? You filthy fucking skank..."

Bryan let go of my hips long enough to slap my ass. The impact rippled across my body, making me shudder.

I couldn't take it any longer. My fingers dug in to the sheets as I hung on and moved my hips back, greedy for more of his cock. I hated him. I hated him more than I've ever hated anyone in my life, but I needed this. I needed this in a way I never knew I would, and FUCK it felt so goddamned good.

"Tell me you love it," he demanded, suddenly. He didn't stop. His hips rolled forward at the same sharp, brutal stabs that sent the fat head of his cock against her g-spot. One hand on my hair, he slapped my ass each time he filled me. "Tell me you love it, whore!"

"I..." Breathing was hard. I could barely see straight. Fuck, I hated him. I hated him so much it physically hurt. It hurt as much as my scalp and body as he used me like the fuck toy he saw me as. "I..."

Bryan let go of my hair. The relief from my hair being released fought with disappointment. Disappointment won out, but not for long. He put his hand on the back of my head and shoved me face down into the bed. He angled up above me so he was fucking me down into the bed.

I couldn't stop the scream from the sudden change, but it was muffled by the mattress. The mattress blocked out everything but the way he touched and violated me. His thrusts grew faster, more desperate. That hit to my g-spot stopped being a flash of world melting pleasure and melded into one long, ongoing blur deep in my hungry cunt.

"You fucking freak," he hissed, hammering away at me. It was beginning to hurt, but that was okay. The pain just sharpened everything else, made me feel...more.

"I'm gonna fuck you every day, Sarah," he continued on. His voice was catching and barely in control. I only dimly registered his words as another pulse in my body as I struggled to stay on my hands and knees. "I'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna love it you fucking whore. Next time, maybe I'll stick it in that ass..."

Oh god, no. It felt like he was tearing up my pussy. Trying to picture his thick cock in my ass made me groan into the sheets and clamp down. "No no no," I squeaked, praying the son of a bitch couldn't hear me. I clamped down and froze, willing my body to let it go and stop this. It didn't listen.

A second later my entire body convulsed as I came like a banshee, shrieking into the bed as my brother buried his cock deep in me and I milked it with every greedy convulsion. I couldn't stop the orgasm, no matter how hard I tried and my pussy pulsed with a deep, aching satisfaction.

Bryan pulled out. I groaned and leaned back, trying to keep him inside me before he could withdraw. He shoved me hard and I fell over, feeling woefully empty. Incomplete. I looked up to his eyes, refusing to plead for more. He knew what I wanted. The sick smirk on his face confirmed it. I looked away.

I looked down to his cock. It was still hard, and obscenely thick. It was glistening white with my own cum, with a few pink spots that were probably blood. His hand circled around it. Even his big hand had trouble circling the entire thing. He ran his hand up and down his cock slowly. I watched, completely mesmerized.

His hand moved smoothly from the base all the way to the tip, where he was leaking some of his cum even now. His hand enclosed over the head, stroking it as he made his way back down again. I licked my lips and all but floated closer. I hated myself for this, but I couldn't help it.

"Tell me you want it," he said, in that same controlled, cocky way of his. He grinned at me, stroking his cock and knowing the truth that I couldn't say. "Tell me you want it and I'll give it to you. Be a good girl and you get a reward."

Bryan knew what it would cost me. He knew what it would do if I said what he wanted. I scowled at him, with all of the fury I could muster up in my post orgasmic haze.

"No. Fuck you, Bryan," I whispered. Even getting that much out made my heart ache. I swallowed hard, still panting and blinking away the tears that were threatening to come again. I'd always had reason to cry, but I'd never given in to the desire as much as I had in the past week.

For once, Bryan didn't say a thing. He didn't have to. All he had to do was keep stroking that fat cock of his and my eyes would go back to it. Fuck, it was hard to believe that thing fit in me. I closed my legs and rubbed them together as my pussy twitched.

He got closer, waddling over to me as he jacked off for me. His hand was a blur as he jerked that gorgeous cock faster and faster. I licked my lips. It was close enough that I could reach out and kiss if it I wanted.

And I wanted to. Fuck me, but I wanted everything about the monster. I wanted to wrap my lips around that shaft and suck out every bit of cum he had. I wanted to nuzzle into his balls and worship him with my mouth and turn the tables on him, make him break down and beg me. It would serve him right.

Kneeling over me, the only thing I could see was that glorious shaft being worked over. He pointed it at me, and I knew what was coming before I heard his telltale grunt and saw the member twitching repeatedly.

I closed my eyes in time. Thick, molten hot jizz landed across my face, and across one eye. Another rope shot out and landed in my hair. Another at my neck, and another on my face. I rubbed my legs together, breathing heavily.

"You look better this way, Sarah. This suits you. You shouldn't go a single day without wearing my cum." He laughed again, and I shuddered. His cum ran down my face and onto the bed, and all I could do was shake my head.

"I hate you so much," I said. There was no heat to it. That was gone much earlier in the week, when I realized that he could do whatever he wanted to me and there'd be nothing I could do to stop him or persuade him otherwise.

This was my life now. One mistake, and now I was my brother's slave for...God, he'd never let me go.

A silent sob wracked my body, but the tears didn't come. It was better this way. I didn't need to get cum in my eyes. Still, my body shook as I fought back the urge to sob and cry at what he was turning me into.

Bryan didn't care. He got off the bed. I could hear him putting his clothes back on. He was in no hurry. He paused at the door. "We'll continue this tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. And tomorrow...You will thank me for the privilege of my cock, Sarah. You don't want to end up homeless, do you?"

The door slammed shut, and I was left in my bed. Violated, heartbroken, alone. My last bastion in this shitty house was taken from me. I had cum oozing down my face, but the only thing I could think of was...God, it was obscene, but I couldn't help myself.

I reached up and gathered a glob of my brother's cum with my fingers and brought to my mouth. I sucked it in, savoring the salty, slightly sour taste. I swallowed hard, and my entire body shuddered. What the fuck was wrong with me?

But I knew what was wrong with me. I just didn't want to admit it. I scooped up more cum and slurped it down, feeling the fire between my legs reignite. He was in my head now, and I feared I was going to be lost.

But it wasn't always like this.

2

My name is Sarah O'Hara. Yeah, it's a stupid name. It was probably the first sign that my mom already hated me and wanted to make sure I suffered, even long after she died. I couldn't think of any other reason, other than maybe to declare how disgustingly Irish I am.

How Irish, you ask? Well, my hair is a bright orange and curly enough to make trying to style it or tame it all but impossible. My skin is so pale that I more or less glow in the dark, except for where a plague of freckles marred it all. Yes, I am a goddamned ginger, and others would (and have, many many times) say I am soulless.

There's saying that redheads are either sex incarnate, or hideous, with no middle ground. I'd like to think that I'm proof that there is a grey area. I'm about five foot four and...Well, I stress eat. I'm not really fat, but I have a couple of extra pounds around the stomach and thighs that gets me teased, even when they're ogling my tits. I'd like to think I could be a bombshell if I tried, but between between the extra pounds and the sharp, overly serious face...

The best I could hope for was being passed over.

The rest of my family is decidedly not Irish. My mother died when I was two, and her husband Rick...Well, there'd no be mistaking him for my real father. He's darker featured, darker skinned thanks to a perpetual tan from working outdoors, and has receding brown hair. He looks like he's made of leather.

I don't know why he kept me after mom died. As he liked to put it when he'd been drinking, my mom had been an easy rebound lay since my father left her while pregnant, and he'd just sort of stuck around after because mom hadn't gotten sick of his drinking, laziness, or sexism, or...

I didn't get along with Rick. Since they were married and my father wanted nothing to do with me, that meant Rick got custody of me. He could've let me fall into the system and be passed around foster homes, but he didn't. I figured he thought it would be easier to pick up chicks if he had a baby. It sure as hell wasn't because he loved me like his own.

Well, he was right. When I was three, he met Angela, and the two hit it off immediately. She was grateful that someone wanted her when she had a kid of her own, and Rick got more of that easy single mom action. And unlike me, Rick hit it off with Bryan immediately, and did love him.

So there was me, the unwanted daughter of a dead Irish woman, my dim and often drunk stepdad, my vapid and judgmental stepmother, and a stepbrother who could best be described as hellspawn straight from Satan himself.

Bryan and I hated each other from the start, and it's only gotten worse since then. He was the active, energetic, sports happy boy that Rick always wanted, and the apple of his mother's eye. They spoiled him rotten and gave him the best of everything. New clothes, toys, games, love, attention, respect...

I don't like whining. I really don't. I hate complaining the way I do, but it wasn't fair. Bryan's the same age as me, but they gave him everything he could ever want. With me, I got the bare minimum of what I needed, and not much else. Unless you consider stricter rules and more demands.

That's how this whole, disgusting, lurid mess all got started. It was Rick and Angela's strict rules, Bryan rubbing it in my face, and a moment of desperation. A night when more than anything, I just needed to get out and do what I wanted and have a bit of fun for a change. If it wasn't for those rules, if it wasn't for fucking Bryan being pure evil...

"The answer's no. I'm not gonna say it again, Sarah," said my stepmother Angela as she flipped a pancake. She loved to make big breakfasts for "her boys". Meanwhile, my waffles were waiting in the toaster.

"I have a grade point average of 3.9, I haven't missed a day of work, and I'm over 18," I countered, keeping my voice as even as possible. It wouldn't do to lose my temper at her stubbornness. My only chance was making refusing me seem unreasonable. It wasn't looking good.

Angela didn't bother to turn around and face me. "I don't care. Parties like that aren't for well behaved young ladies. Parties like that are for common whores, and I will not have you being a whore, Sarah." Not like your mother. She didn't say it, but it was implied. It wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm still a virgin mom. I don't want to go fool around or be a whore. I just want to get out of the house for a change. Maybe dance and hear people swap stupid stories. Something to let me at least pretend I have a social life." I sounded desperate. I knew I did.

"You're not that delusional, are you?" said Bryan as he walked in and joined me at the table. He smirked at me, and I wanted to throw something at his head. "You work at the library and spend all your time hiding in your room, reading. No one's stupid enough to think you're cool or social. Might as well stay home."

"Fuck you," I spat at him. It was a reflex at this point.

"Sarah!" This time Angela did turn around. She waved her spatula at me threateningly. "Don't talk to your brother that way."

"He insulted me!"

Angela looked at Bryan, and smiled. "Your brother can be a bit coarse, but he's not wrong. You should be focusing on school and work and so long as you are living under my roof, you'll obey my rules. No parties, no anything that could get you in trouble. If I find out you've broken my rules, you will find someplace else to live."

Of course she would back him up while threatening me. She did this every time. And the shit eating grin on his face just made me want to slug him. Instead, I turned back to Angela and said, "This isn't fair. Bryan goes to parties every week. You don't push him to go to college or focus on work!"

"Well...Boys need to get out, spend some of that excess energy. It keeps them out of trouble. And Bryan's taking a year before he starts college, you know that." Angela scooped the pancake off the skillet, then took the plate around to Bryan. She leaned over and kissed the top of his head while he gave me his best shit eating grin.

"Besides, I'm actually popular. You at a party would just be...What would you even do there?" Bryan scoffed.

The worst part was...he wasn't wrong. Bryan was exactly the type of asshole you'd expect to be popular. He was over six foot, athletic, with a strong jaw and wavy, sandy blonde hair. He was good looking, and good at making being an asshole to someone seem funny to other people. That didn't change the fact that I wanted to go. Any change would be welcome at this point.

The toaster popped, and I started. Bryan snickered at me as I got my waffles. I buttered them without a word as I tried to ignore him watching me. It wasn't even that I cared about this party in particular. I work at the Oakvale Community College library, and one of the new girls invited me.

Despite deciding to work in a library, the new girl, Mary, actually seemed cool. She was pretty and social, but seemed smart and like she didn't have to tear someone down to have a good time. When she invited me to the party, I'd been surprised, dismayed at knowing I probably wouldn't be allowed to go, and then hopeful. If I could make a few more friends, maybe things wouldn't be so shitty.

"Whatever," I finally said, taking a bite of my breakfast. "I can probably pick up an extra shift that night anyways. They always need people to clean up after hours."

Angela looked over her head and gave me a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes. "That's the spirit, Sarah. Keep working hard and maybe you'll be able to make something of yourself." Her lips twinged.

My face flushed, and I wanted to be anywhere but there. She didn't believe a word she was saying. "Maybe."

"It'll get you good and used to being a lonely library spinster," said Bryan. He grinned at me.

I didn't give him the satisfaction. They could believe I would be at work. Any other time, they'd be right. This time I wasn't going to give in and just roll over. I wasn't going to just be a quiet meek nerd who did what she told. I was going to sneak into that party, and I was going to have the time of my life, dammit!

I wish now that I'd stayed home. If I'd just stayed home, none of this painful mess would've happened.

3

The party was louder than I expected. Look, I know how stupid that sounds, but it's true. I don't get out as much as I'd like, and when I came to the party, I was expecting some music you could dance to, but not so loud as to drown out literally everything else. I didn't know how I was going to be able to talk to people like this.

Mary wasn't put off by it, which meant it was probably always like this. She put her arm around my shoulder and pointed towards the dance floor. She said something, but I couldn't hear her over the sound of the music. I smiled and nodded just the same and followed her.

The party was inside a semi-abandoned warehouse. It shut down years ago, and people started using it for raves and parties. Rather than crackdown and try to catch kids partying, they'd just cleaned it up and made it safer and turned a blind eye. In a semi-small town like this, I guess even the people in charge figured college kids needed a way to blow off steam.

The crowd seemed to magically part for us. Or for Mary. She was a platinum blonde in a red dress that barely covered her panties, and she very clearly wasn't wearing a bra. She was all smiles and radiant. She'd insisted on us dressing up, and even let me borrow a dress of hers.

It didn't quite fit me, and I didn't think I looked even half as good as her. It was a cute dress. Baby blue, which contrasted nicely with my hair and brought out my equally blue eyes, short enough to end mid-thigh without revealing anything, and it clung to me like a second skin. Far more snug than I was comfortable with, and it made me feel like everyone was going to stare at me and call me fat.

Unless they just stared at my chest instead. The very top of it had a strap going around the back of my neck and what I could only think of as a boob window. I may be chubby, but I was also...gifted, there. The tightness of the dress and the boob window made my boobs stand up and out, pressed together to give the best presentation of the girls. Mary had assured me that I looked good, so I went along with it.

People around me did stare. At first I thought it was at Mary, who was already starting to move to the music. The longer I stood there like a spaz, the more I realized that plenty of them were checking me out. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I started dancing with Mary to try to ignore it.

I can't dance to save my life, but this didn't seem to be the type of party where anyone cared. The deafening music flooded the old warehouse with wubs and dubs, and I just sort of...swayed in place, occasionally bumping against Mary, who bumped against me. She grinned at me and pulled me close, grinding on my leg.

12