See Me After Ch. 03: Sister Knows Best

"It looks like I need a foot rest. Giddy-up, Little Pony."

She raised both feet, still bare and crossed at the ankles, from where they had been resting on the luxurious carpet. She didn't need to ask twice, and he did not intend to keep her waiting; before her legs had been hovering in the air for more than three or four seconds he was already there, on all fours before her. Her ankles dug into his spine a little sharply as they landed, then she wriggled around to find a comfortable position; then, all was still. Helena pushed a button on the remote, and the film began to faint sounds of munching on popcorn and slurping of lemonade. It all took place above Carl's head, bowed down in the darkness; past the pounding in his ears and the racing of his pulse, he was barely even aware which film was playing.

Helena grew restless as the film wore on, or perhaps curious: she began to move her feet around on his back, first seeking different positions for repose and then eventually beginning to experiment. She began by pressing a big toe down into the small of his back, increasing the pressure until he had to struggle to hold himself up; then, the toe hopped up a short distance and pushed again; then it was the turn of her other big toe, nestling between his shoulder blades. She ended up with both feet flat on his back, one just below his neck and the other on top of his tailbone. She pushed herself up a little way, knees bent, raising her own lower body up with her weight bearing upon him through her feet. He strove to stay steady throughout. There was a soft impact on his ear as she flicked a piece of popcorn his way in the dark.

Then, by all outward appearances, she went back to enjoying the film. Her attention seemed to be fully upon it; right up to the point where one of her feet slid off his back and down, slipping beneath to slide lightly across his belly. Carl inhaled abruptly, not daring to move and not knowing what to think. The casual sounds of popcorn grazing continued as Helena's foot traced along the front of his body, all the way up to the hollow of his throat, her toes gently tapping against his chin. Then they withdrew, trailing in the other direction, back down to his stomach. The hem of his t-shirt hung down a little, and she tugged on it with a toe for a few idle moments; then she let it go, and her toes came into contact with the exposed skin at the pit of his stomach.

They circled lazily, describing spirals on his flesh, just a whisper above the patch of his pubic hair and the sorely-aroused shaft standing proud of it. There was the faintest tickle as her bare foot nudged into his private foliage, then in the space of a skipped heartbeat he thought he'd felt her toe brush against the root of his erection itself. It was gone almost instantly, if it happened at all; Carl couldn't trust himself not to have imagined it by this stage in his invigorated torment. He didn't have to imagine anything a moment or two later, however, when she leaned forward suddenly and delivered a quick, sharp slap to the meat of his bare buttock. Helena said nothing afterward, simply settling back in her seat on the sofa; the echoes of the spank continued to rumble around Carl's mind long after the sound and physical sensation had faded.

His unquiet thoughts were interrupted when she leaned over again and grabbed a fistful of his sandy hair, jerking his head back and exposing his throat. Then, with an athletic ease, she coiled a foot around beneath his neck; her toes glided up along his skin, brushing over his Adam's apple before coming to a stop just below the point of his chin, which she lifted a little further with her foot. Just before the tug on his hair and the up-thrust of his jaw could become truly painful, her toes flipped up and around until suddenly they were right in his face. The big toe of his older sister's bare foot pressed up against Carl's lips, and she held his head right there as if in expectation.

She must not quite have been expecting the same thing he imagined, if the startled shiver she gave was anything to go by when he opened his lips and kissed the hovering digit.

"Sick..."

Her voice was breathy and intense; he hadn't realised quite how close she'd lowered her face toward him until he heard its murmur in his ear. She didn't release him. Instead, she simply pushed the bottom of her foot up to smother his mouth and nose, softly stifling. As if it could bring him life-giving air, he began to smooch her sole. She still didn't release him, for long seconds in which his head swam, his vision began to dim and his cock throbbed with forbidden ardour, denied. He heard Helena breath in, long and deep, just before the doorbell rang.

She almost kicked him in the face in her haste to pull away, her fingers carrying a few accidentally-snatched hairs from his head as her back hit the sofa cushions. Carl felt panic rise inside him, not quite drowning out a plaintive disappointment. Helena's legs shoved against his shoulder, jostling him backward to the far end of the sofa, away from the direction of the front door. Once he took the hint and retreated, she rose to her feet in the vacated space.

"Get behind the sofa! This isn't over, Pony..."

After a few more seconds, the doorbell rang again; Helena decided that her semi-naked brother's efforts at concealment would have to do, hopefully aided by the darkness, and quickly paused the TV before jogging out into the front hall.

"Just coming!"

* * *

Carl felt like cornered prey as he half-hid in the space behind one arm of the sofa. His thoughts raced over the question of who could be calling: their parents weren't due back for hours, he had planned to be long gone over to Miss Hunt's before their return; then, the subject of his instruction brought another possibility to mind, confirmed a moment later when he heard two sets of footsteps returning to the living room.

"Oh, little brother! Your girlfriend is here to see you; I wonder if she knows your filthy little secret? Well, Jodie, did you know your boyfriend likes to steal his own sister's knickers to wear, because his teacher told him to?"

It might have been that the response was a disappointment to Helena when it came; her expression certainly seemed taken aback, as Carl rose sheepishly to his feet from behind the sofa in all his bottomless glory, when Jodie replied:

"Oh, I know! Isn't he pathetic?" the shorter, curvier girl fixed him with a baleful stare, her eyebrows rising as she took in the revealed extent of his undress, "Have you been caught stealing, boy? Miss Hunt won't be impressed!"

Perhaps it was the way his girlfriend seemed to take this situation in her stride, with nothing more than an air of petty disgust, that helped Helena pull herself together and slip into the flow of the situation's new dynamic. The two women shared a mutually appraising glance for a second, reevaluating what they had previously taken for granted about each other. As they seemed to reach a silent understanding, it brought on a pair of eerily similar smiles. Jodie broke off at last to stare at him again.

"I asked you a question, boy!"

"Y-yes Mistress, I was trying to steal a pair of her knickers. She c-caught me..."

Helena's smugness had returned in full as she interjected:

"Oh my, Jodie; you seem to have him trained so well already! I had no idea this Little Pony was already broken in! Don't worry, we've reached an understanding; haven't we, Pony? Although, far be it from me to interfere if you think he needs further instruction on the matter."

"Mm, I think we'll let Miss Hunt decide that. I think I should help him prepare for his lesson, if you don't mind me taking him off your hands?"

Carl couldn't help but notice the satchel over his Mistress-girlfriend's shoulder, the strap of which she let her fingers tickle playfully up and down as she spoke. He'd not seen it before, and it looked as though it could hold quite a lot of bulk.

"Don't be silly, he's all yours. Although, have you got a few minutes spare? We could catch the end of my film, I've still got some popcorn left."

They grinned at each other again.

* * *

Carl was on his hands and knees once more, this time pressed down by the weight of two sets of women's feet upon his back. For decorum's sake, Jodie had her feet closer to his bare rear end; he'd been utterly mortified, while still appallingly aroused, when she'd bluntly asked his sister if he had cum today. Helena had been alarmingly forthright with her confirmation that he hadn't, and apparently unabashed as Jodie had informed her that as Carl's girlfriend, she had been given charge of his ejaculation privileges. They ended the exchange with a resolution that the two of them should get together with Miss Hunt to further divide up responsibilities for his instruction, now he had another new Mistress. A Sisteress; Sistress? The speculation made Carl's head hurt, even as Helena ran her toes lazily through the hair on the back of his neck. A moment later at the other end of his body, a toe ran all the way down the crevice between his buttocks before flicking smartly against the dangling sack of his testicles.

* * *

With the film over, Helena waved the young couple off in the direction of Carl's room. Although it wouldn't happen this evening; regrettably she had a few other things demanding her time; she looked forward to meeting up with Miss Hunt again along with Jodie to come to an accord over her little brother's fate. She had a good idea that getting her laundry done would take a lot less effort from now on, for one. She drifted back to her own room, intent on getting ready for the shower which had earlier been so thoroughly interrupted, when she noticed her underwear drawer still hanging open. She paused, then went over to it; after all, she'd promised.

It only took a few moments to find the pair of knickers she'd had in mind, an older pair that were a little worn, a little frayed; she'd been meaning to throw them away for a while, but they were clean and still perfectly wearable. They were a faded but still deep pink with white polka dots, to her mind an ideal selection. In a mischievous moment she imagined her brother wearing them. That settled it. The selection made, she took her old pair of pants in hand and strode from the room to Carl's door, knocking twice in quick succession before pushing it open.

Carl was lying on his back on the bed with his legs up in the air in a wide flying-V. Jodie had been wearing a skirt when she arrived; she still was, although it was now flopped in a veil a over Carl's upper body as she evidently straddled his face; the boy was hard at work, judging by the slopping, slurping sounds emerging from beneath the blooming folds. Jodie herself seemed quite pleased with the situation, a sentiment her boyfriend's desperately shuddering erection echoed in full. Most outrageously of all, nestled between the supine boy's fervently clenched arse cheeks the hilt of a fat, rubbery purple shaft jutted, bouncing and swaying with the throes of their passion.

"Ooh, sorry!"

Helena expected more embarrassment from herself, but it just didn't seem to come. Instead, as her eyes met Jodie's when the other woman turned her head, they shared another knowing look; the curvier girl, mounting Helena's brother's head, dipped her eyes to the twitching form of his strident cock and raised an eyebrow.

"That wicked thing has been rock-solid this whole time. Why not teach him a lesson?"

Carl's sister needed no further encouragement. She darted forward, her lips curling in a sly smirk, and gave a single hard flick to the very tip of her brother's rigid penis. There was a muffled cry from beneath Jodie's skirts, and the shorter girl gave a gasp of apparent pleasure before grinding forward decisively with her hips. Helena tossed the pair of knickers negligently onto the bed beside her stricken brother, and left the room as Carl's overwhelmed prick erupted to spurt a thick, frantic spray of silky cream high into the air.