I don't look up from my book. "What, Andy?"
"Dude, I gotta talk to you." Andy is nervous, glancing side to side, apparently not eager to be overheard. "It's important."
"More important than Proust?" I wave my copy of "The Prisoner" at him. "More important than being well-read? More important than walking into AP Lit on Monday and grinding everyone else into the dirt?"
Andy stares at me. His eyes - nice eyes, I notice every time I look at him, despite their mundane brownish hue - are plaintive. I sigh, close the book, and push myself to my feet. "Lead the way."
He walks off through the halls towards the music wing and ducks into the instrument closet. I follow, treading carefully around the cases and stands that litter the floor, and close the door behind me.
"Okay," he says, pacing back and forth. "Okay. There's this girl."
"There's always 'this girl'," I murmur, rolling my eyes. "Come on, man. It's a crush. There are plenty of-"
He spins to face me, a furious expression on his face. "It's not a crush. It's more than that. It's... it's... I can't stop thinking about her. I can't. I fantasize all the time, no matter what I'm doing. Even when I'm with Julie."
I think for a moment. "An obsession, then. Okay. There are a couple ways to solve this, but... what did you want from me?"
"You know how to handle these things better than I do! You got me with Julie in the first place! You... I want... I want to..."
"Spit it out, Andy. What do you want?"
He closes his eyes and looks ashamed. "I want to fuck her. That's all. I look at her, and I just want to be inside her and taste her sweat and hear her moan-"
"Fine, fine, I get the picture." An interesting situation. He must have given this a lot of thought before coming to me. "What about Julie?"
"She doesn't have to know. I care about her a lot, and I don't want to hurt her. It's just this once." Andy looks at me imploringly. "I just need you to set us up. Just once. And convince her not to talk about it. Please."
"All well and good, Andy, but two questions. First: what do I get out of it?"
He shakes his head. "Anything. I'd do anything. I can't sleep. I can't focus on anything else. If you can do this for me... anything."
"Anything." Andy, my friend, you will regret saying that before the week is out. You know my tastes, and I've had my eye on your ass ever since we met. "Okay. That works. And the other question: who is she? I know a lot of guys have had their dicks in hand for that new girl, Fiona, and then there's Bree, but you'd hardly need my help for that one..."
"No, man. That's the other thing." He takes a deep breath and lets it out again. "It's... Promise you won't flip out and try to kill me or something?"
"Andy, at the moment I'm expecting you to say you want to bang my mom. I promise not to flip out." He seems taken aback by my words. Interesting. "...is it my mom? Is she the one-"
"No. No, dude, it's not your mom. It's... it's your sister."
"Hmm." I think about my sister for a moment. Bratty, when she wants to annoy me, which is always. Medium-height, medium-build, medium looks... the epitome of medium. Average. No tits to speak of, no ass, nothing remarkable. Not that I'm really the one to judge - I'm not as big on the female side of things. I'll dally, now and then, but... well. I love the cock, and that's all there is to say about it. Not quite fully gay, but I certainly prefer men. "What do you see in her?"
"That's just it! I don't know! She's just... normal. She doesn't try to look like a slut, and pretty much every other girl here does. She doesn't care much about anything. I just... I don't know. She seems... pure."
Pure. Hah. And who would have thought that normalcy could be so hot to some people. "Slight problem, Andy. Lin hates you. She's hated you ever since she met you."
"I know." He hangs his head in dejection. "I know. I was an ass."
"You're still an ass."
"Yeah, but now I'm a sympathetic ass. And I know there's no chance of me ever getting her. I just thought maybe you'd think of something, but I guess..."
"Hold your horses. I said it was a slight problem, not a game-breaker." My brain leaps in several different directions before coming back together. "You want to screw her, right? That's it? No emotional attachment, no nothing?"
"Yeah," Andy says, a bit of cautious optimism coming back to his face. "I love Julie. I really do. I just want Lin's body, that's all."
"Oh, well, that's not a problem at all." I grin broadly. "Give me a couple of days to work it all out, and I'll let you know, yeah?"
The look of confusion on his face is beautiful. I have to fight to keep my smile from turning predatory. "How? You're not going to, like, get her drunk or something, are you?"
"That would be telling. I'll let you know when things are ready." I make a shooing motion with my hands. "Get going."
Thursday. Early morning.
Let me describe my house.
The front door opens up into a small room with a few stairs leading forward and full flights leading up and down. Take the stairs forward and you're in the living room, with the kitchen to the left and - down another hallway - the parents' rooms to the right.
Take the stairs up and you'll find a messy landing with my sister's room on one side and her bathroom on the other.
Take the stairs down and you're in my domain. Not too shabby for guy almost out of high school, as I've worked holidays and weekends for a few years now. All that money went to good use. Consider:
I have a speaker system that is twice that of the one hooked up to the living room TV upstairs.
I turned the storage room into a lounge area, complete with couch and pool table. I don't even play pool. It just seemed appropriate.
I did everything I could to make the room soundproof. Panels and carpet on the walls, weather strip on the solid-core door, the works. It's not perfect, but it dampens anything that I'm playing to the point where I can have the speakers at half-volume (which is loud enough that I can't hear myself talking in the same room) and the parents don't notice it a flight up.
That's where I am at 3ish on Thursday. Sitting in my room with the music on. Thinking. Planning.
It would have to be my room, of course. Either that or outside the house, and I wanted to plan everything beforehand, so it had to be in the house.
Parental intrusion wasn't a risk at all. Mom was a doctor and spent almost every waking hour at work, and generally came home too tired to do more than eat dinner and fall asleep in front of the television. Dad was away for the rest of the month on a business trip. Even if they were here, they'd learned not to bother talking to me when I had my door closed.
The weekend would work best. That gave me two days to get everything together, and I'd realistically only need a couple hours of shopping and prep.
As for Andy... well. I'd come up with that part on the fly.
This is going to be fun.
Friday. Late afternoon.
I had everything ready... except for Lin. Then she was kind enough to take care of that part herself.
"Mom?" Her voice drifts throughout the house, and I hear it quite clearly (my door was open). I poke my head out through the doorway to listen. "Mom? You around?"
I clear my throat. "She's out. Had to stay late at work."
"What? Come out of your cave!"
"Come down here so I don't have to shout!"
She does, surprisingly enough. Her footsteps on the stairs prelude her appearance a moment later. "Where's Mom?"
"Still at work," I say, glowering at her. Inwardly, though, I'm ecstatic. "Had to stay late. Something about a pile-up and a lot of critical patients."
"Don't care," she says, glancing at her nails. "Listen, if she asks, tell her I'm at Emma's, okay? Doing homework or something like that."
I let myself smile a little. It's easy. All I have to do is imagine what the next few hours will bring. "And where will you really be? Juan's? Eric's?"
She answers with a middle finger and turns to go.
"Lin," I call after her. "Wait. Just a second." I walk out of my room and face her, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shakes off. "I know you hate me telling you this, but be careful, okay? You don't want to end up with someone who doesn't care about you."
Lin snorts in disgust. "Look, bro, I don't need your advice-"
"I know," I say, nodding. "You're the older twin. First out of the womb, and all that. But still. I'm worried about you." The lie comes easily to my lips.
"Thanks, Mom." She turns her back on me and reaches a hand out to grasp the railing on the stairs.
I am faster than she is, just as I'd known I'd be. My right arm grapples her around the waist and pulls her back, back off of the bottommost stair. She falls, and as I catch her I swing my left hand around to her face. My left hand, clutching a hand towel soaked in the chloroform I'd stolen from the chem lab at school.
She crumples without a sound. I lower her gently to the floor, take a deep breath, and pull out my cell phone.
Ring. Ring ring. Click. "Hey, what's up?"
"Andy," I say, staring down at my sister. "Wanna come over for a bit? I've got something to talk to you about."
Friday. Evening. The doorbell rings. "I'll get it," I call upstairs, and climb up off of the couch in my lounge.
It's Andy, of course. "Hey, man," he says, taking off his jacket and shoes. "Hi, Mrs. Wei," he adds, half-waving at my mom from where she's sitting in the living room.
"Hello, Andy. How are your parents?"
"They're fine. My dad survived the latest round of layoffs, so we're doing pretty good."
"Good, good." Mom closes her eyes again. "You boys have fun. Let me know if you're hungry or anything."
I gesture Andy downstairs and, when he hesitates at the foot of the stairs, push him towards the lounge. He takes a seat on the couch and looks up at me. "Okay. What's up?"
I take a deep breath. "Your problem, I think, is solved."
"Really?" He perks up immediately. "How? How'd you manage it?"
"Trade secret," I say with a smile. "Now. Close your eyes for a second. Oh, c'mon," I added when he hesitates. "It's more fun this way."
He complies. "Right," I say, grabbing his shoulder and steering him towards the door of my room. "Ready?"
"For anything," he says, excitement evident in his voice.
Oh, no you're not. If you are, I'll be very surprised. "Okay then." I unlock my door, open it, and help him inside, closing and locking the door behind me. I drop the key in my pocket and then flip on the light. "Open your eyes."
He does. For a moment, which I estimate as roughly long enough to fully take in the scene, no one says anything.
Lin is curled up on the bed, apparently unconscious. Fully nude. Her ankles and knees are tied together, and her wrists are handcuffed - separately - to the headboard of the bed. A ball gag lies on the bed beside her head; apparently she managed to take it off after I'd left. Her makeup is running, tracing mascara and eyeliner teartracks down her face.
On the dresser, facing the bed, sits a video camera, a red LED blinking on its front. I doubt that Andy has noticed it yet.
He turns to face me, his expression a mix of confusion and anger and, oh joy of joys, arousal. "What the fuck?"
I grab him and, one-handed, shove him against the wall, reaching into my pocket as I do. "Now look," I say, removing the folding pocketknife ($8.99, purchased yesterday afternoon) and flipping it open next to his face. "This is exactly what you wanted. A chance to screw her." I gesture towards the bed. "So get to it."
"I didn't... I didn't mean like... like this," he says, his eyes on the knife. "I thought... I meant..."
"You'd rather her be drunk? Shitfaced? Unable to consent?" I laugh in his face. "Man up, Andy. Here's your chance. Take it. Take it or-" I reach down and squeeze his crotch. He jumps and pulls away, but not before I feel the stiffening bulge there. "-Or I'll cut your little friend there right off."
A voice. A croak, really, hoarse from what had probably been two hours of screaming into the dark room. "What... why..."
I turn to the bed. Lin is awake - groggy, but awake. She stares at me, new tears forming in her eyes. I brush Andy aside and walk up to the bed, staring down at her. My eyes rove over her smooth and cleanly shaven legs, now red and raw from rubbing against the cord I'd tied her with. Her flat chest, heaving with sobs. I feel a slight stirring somewhere south of my belt. "Because, my dear sister," I say, bending down so we can see eye to eye, "you have worked very, very hard to make my life miserable. I am simply returning the favor."
"Please," she whispers, tears flowing fully now. "Please."
"No," I say cheerfully. "No, that won't do you any good. I know all about your escapades. All about your boyfriends and fuckbuddies and 'lovers.' All of them. I read your emails - wasn't hard to get to them, let me tell you - and I know everything. Do you think Mrs. Chandler would like to know that you sucked her husband's cock in the booth during the fall musical? Do you think Johnny Angstrom's parents would be happy to hear that the real reason he killed himself was because you fucked him, dumped him, and told the school he had a four-inch dick?" I lean in closer yet and spit on her face. She recoils, crying harder than ever. "Did you really think you would get away with everything?"
I turn to face Andy, who is standing by the door, one hand rattling the doorknob. "It's locked. And it'll stay locked. She's a slut, Andy. She's a whore. The only reason she's even passing her classes is because she took the virginity of half the nerds on campus." I walk forward and place a gently hand on his shoulder. He doesn't shake it off; I have a suspicion he's in some form of shock. "She deserves this, Andy," I say, letting the anger fall out of my voice. "Take her. Punish her. Do it."
Andy's head comes up. He looks at me, not at her. "She hates me," he mumbles.
"Yes. She does." I nod fervently. "For no reason. You've never done anything to hurt her, and she hates you. She hates everyone. She deserves this. Listen to your body, Andy. It knows what to do." I grab his arm and guide it down to his crotch, where the bulge is even more prominent. He grasps it clumsily. "Do it. Do her. Take her."
Andy turns to face her again. He looks for a long moment, his eyes traveling up and down her body. Lin mouths something - it looks like another "please" - and then he turns back to me, shaking his head. "I can't. I can't."
"You can, and you will." I raise the knife again. "You get one shot at this. You asked for something; I delivered. Now hold up your end of the bargain. Fuck her."
Slowly, dreamlike, Andy walks over to the bed. He looks down at my sister, then turns back to me. "She really sucked off Mr. Chandler?"
"And he took pictures. I've got 'em all." I nod to the bed. "She's a slut. She deserves whatever you do to her."
Andy looks at her for a long moment. Then he reaches out and touches the side of her face. Lin pulls away and screams; like a champ, Andy reacts instinctively, and slaps her. I smile; Andy plays basketball, and his slaps are like most people's punches. It certainly shuts her up, at any rate. I breathe a sigh of relief and close the knife, returning it to my pocket.
"Bitch," he says, one hand on her head, the other moving towards her bound legs. "Slut. Skank. Dirty fucking whore. Too good for me, you said. Too fucking good for me." He grabs her legs and pulls her down towards the foot of the bed; the handcuffs hold, and she is stretched out, face-up. She tries to bring her arms down to cover herself, not that there is much to cover - her breasts are small, childlike... boyish. The stirring in my pants grows stronger.
Andy traces his finger around her nipples in a figure eight pattern, and she begins to scream again. I take a few steps to my computer and pull up the play list I made last night, and a moment later French techno surges out of the speakers, drowning out my sister's cries. And now he has his hands cupped over her breasts, and she's trying to kick at him but can't because her legs are tied too tightly. I wonder idly if the circulation to her feet is cut off, and I let a hand drift down to my belt.
"Always second-best," I whisper, my words lost to the booming backbeat of the music. "Always the slow one. The unsuccessful one." Andy leans down and bites, lightly, at Lin's nipple. She lets loose a fresh howl, throwing herself to one side and the next, actually dragging the bed frame an inch or so in each direction in her struggles to escape. My fingers gloss over the belt buckle, move instead to the zipper of my khakis and pull it down. "Couldn't pass middle school without flirting with the principal. Wouldn't be graduating high school if you weren't fucking the whole school." I lightly touch the front of my boxers, feeling the hard-on lurking there.
Andy turns to look at me, one hand on each of my sister's legs. He says something that goes unheard, but I know what he's asking. Not bothering to zip up again - in fact, I want them to see me like this - I walk forward, taking the knife out of my pocket again.
Lin's face is a mess of tears and tangled hair, snot running down from her nose. She's still screaming. Shouting. Mostly just sounds, but I can faintly hear an occasional "no" and "don't" mingled in.
I raise the knife and hold it against her throat. She tries to pull back from the cold steel, but I keep it tightly against her neck, and she stops moving, eyes locked onto mine in terror. "If you move," I mouth, forming each word carefully so that she can lip-read them, "I will kill you."
She freezes in place. Gently, applying no pressure at all, I drag the knife point down over her skin, tracing my way down, down. She shudders as it passes over her stomach, and tries as hard as she can not to scream as I quickly slide the knife through and up, slicing cleanly through the cord holding her knees together. I cut through the one tied around her ankles as well. "She's all yours," I say, waving Andy forward again, and I stand by the side of the bed, knife still in hand.
He needs no prompting, and is already halfway out of his pants. I watch him shed his briefs and my free hand goes back to my groin, grasping at my cock beneath the fabric of my boxers. Andy crawls up onto the bed on hands and knees and grabs Lin's legs. She gasps as he forces them apart, begins to struggle to close them again, then looks at me, at the knife still in my hand, and stops, squeezing her eyes shut.
For the first time, I have a clear view of my sister's pussy. It's the same as everything else about her: average. A tuft of black pubic hair that matches the hair atop her head. A thin slit, the lips on either side small and unremarkable. Clearly dry. Well, I think to myself, at least she doesn't have a rape fetish. That would defeat the purpose.
I pull a tube of lubricant (also purchased last night) from my pocket and toss it onto the bed next to Andy. He shoots me a quick nod of thanks, then squeezes a small pool of the gel into his hand. He spreads some of it on his cock, rubbing the stuff all over the shaft and head, and I slip my fingers through the front of my boxers, stroking myself gently. And then Andy takes the rest of the lube and rubs it in between Lin's legs, shoving two fingers into her cunt. She screams again, and I'm struck by an idea. I begin undoing my belt as Andy increases the speed of his fingers, thrusting in and out, swearing and cursing nonstop under his breath as he does so. Lin keeps screaming and sobbing.
My fingers stumble on the button to my pants for a moment, but then I get it undone and they drop, quickly followed by my boxers. Lin draws in a deep breath to start screaming again, but before she can start I grab her head with both hands and shove my cock into her mouth. She stiffens, pulling away, but I hold her head steady. Then I feel the brush of teeth midway down my shaft. I lean down and turn her head so that her ear is an inch from my mouth. "Bite down," I hiss, "and you're dead."