See Me After Ch. 04: Relative Intensity

Leaving Carl stood as if stuck mid-semaphore, confident he wouldn't let his arms droop for a moment even when she wasn't there to see, Helena nipped out of the small bathroom and into her own little boudoir. She cast about for a moment, then with a triumphant 'Ahah!', found what she was looking for and snatched it up. Back in the bathroom a few moments later, she raised the fine silken scarf up in front of her brother and held it over his eyes before tying it around the back of his head.

"There! Couldn't have you staring at your big sister taking all her clothes off and having a shower, could we? Honestly, Pony, what kind of filthy pervert are you?"

She tutted with mock outrage at his blindfolded face, peeking down at the eager vote of assent poking up from those tight little knickers; she might have been joking, but she wasn't wrong. Of course, blinding him before she disrobed also meant he wouldn't see that she wasn't wearing underwear.

Helena decided to make the most of her unseeing audience, taking her time to carefully remove each item of clothing. She got a firm hold of the hem of her t-shirt in both hands and peeled it upward along her torso, pausing with it in front of her face to take in a little of the sightless sensation her brother must have been experiencing behind his own blindfold. Just for a moment though. The neckline of the t-shirt stuck under her chin briefly before sweeping up over her nose, and then she was holding it in her hands, topless before him but for her bra. She tugged the t-shirt the right way out again and laid it reverently across his outstretched arm.

Then she reached behind her with rather less ceremony, undoing the blue lacy number cupping her bosom with a single quick flick of the fingers. She took more time in shrugging out of each one of the slender shoulder straps, grinning widely at her oblivious brother all the while. She caught the bra in both hands and lowered it, breasts exposed and nipples stiffening a little in the intimate atmosphere. She held the garment in one hand and lowered the zip of her jeans with the other, making sure to get as steady a click-clack from the action as she could. The sound was loud between the two of them in the otherwise silent bathroom.

She began to tug at the waist of the jeans, shimmying a little before remembering the occasion and turning the motion into a full swaying roll of her hips, silent and unseen by her brother. She turned shuffling around while she pulled the jeans down so that she could bend over and wiggle her arse in his direction, for a little extra thrill. This was something like the opposite of voyeurism, exhibiting herself for someone who couldn't possibly see what was going on, and it had a definite appeal; part of it maybe was the fact that, technically, her darling baby bro was definitely not seeing her stripping nude.

Kicking off the jeans from each ankle with dainty motions, she turned back to stand fully and wickedly naked before him. She made sure to leave a moment or two when she might have been removing her knickers, before dumping the jeans and bra over his arm all in a heap to conceal the absence. Hands on hips, she took in the sight of him stood in those very knickers, her towels and clothing dangling over each of his arms, and found she was strangely satisfied by the spectacle.

Time for the main event. Their small flat had room only for a bath tub with shower head mounted over the taps, but the hose on the shower head reached far enough to give her the option of sitting in the bath while she washed. The best of both worlds, almost. Pushing the shower on-switch, Helena turned the dial to her preferred temperature and waited for the stream of water to heat up accordingly: almost but not quite hot enough to scald. Small mists of steam began to rise as she climbed into the tub, sighing softly as she felt the immediacy of the prickling heat wash across her naked body. She lowered herself to sit, then leaned back against the end of the bath with the shower head in one hand. Carl's mute presence around the other end of the bath became blurred by the pleasant rising of steam. For a few long minutes, Helena just enjoyed playing the shower's stream across her bare skin, revelling in the challenging temperature of the water. Then, it was time for a shave.

It had been a few days since her last time, so the hairs were beginning to feel a little stubbly along her legs. Her razor was on a shelf of their shower organiser, next to the exfoliating sponge that she reached for first. She felt the slight tug of its surface scraping across her calves and thighs as she used it in long, gradual strokes to prepare. Then it was the turn of the shaving gel, carefully slathered on in a thin, consistent layer. She wondered what Carl would have made of the sight of her repeatedly stroking these various items up and down her naked legs in front of him; the thought made her smile. Then it was time for the razor, caressing the curves of one limb and then the other in gentle passes, stripping away the fluffy whiteness of the gel line by line. Once she was finished and running her fingers across the newly-shorn flesh, Helena couldn't help feeling just a little bit flawless.

The experience of being technically-not-watched while shaving was every bit as enticing as the rest of the situation so far, and Helena was a little sorry that it was over. Right up until her eyes fell on the soft wisp of hair tufting around her shower-drenched crotch, swaying minutely with every trickle of water. She wasn't in the habit of shaving her pubic hair, in fact she'd never done it before; right now could not have been more perfect an occasion for her first time. She reached for her preparatory accoutrements again, taking extra care to smooth the shaving gel nicely around her lower lips, and just lay there looking down for a few moments when she was done. For some reason, her heartbeat was pounding in her ears as she looked from her gel-covered crotch over to the motionless form of her blindfolded brother beyond. She hadn't made a sound; he'd never know. Again she took up the razor.

It took a lot longer than the area covered might have suggested, but she made each delicate stroke with a painstaking precision and only after plenty of forethought. It wouldn't do to pick up any little nicks or cuts down there, of all places. When she was done, the flawless feeling returned redoubled; she couldn't stop herself from running a finger up and down the contours of her newly-shaved sex to marvel at the smoothness. It even felt good to rinse off the last dots of shaving gel with the hot stream of the shower. Now it was time to get soapy.

Carl's nose twitched noticeably when she poured out a little of her shower gel into a cupped palm; the fruity and floral aroma was lifted throughout the little bathroom almost instantly by the steamy atmosphere. Helena put the shower aside and worked the gel into a lather, spreading it over her arms first and then moving on to the rest of her body. She took more time than necessary to soap up her legs, still loving the glossy feel of her skin after the shave; she raised each one into the air to cover it in the fragrant foam, as if in some glitzy female-product advert. Then it was time to cleanse her crotch... After a moment she began using both hands, massaging the gel in with firm deliberation, closing her eyes as she gradually forgot what it was she was supposed to be doing... Perhaps a minute went past before she came back to herself with a start, eyes springing open and pulse racing. Carl was still right there in her sight line. Reluctantly, pausing only for a somewhat longer-than-necessary soaping of her boobs which included just a little much massaging of the nipples, she finished up with applying the soap. Finally she let the scouring heat of the water wash her clean.

She always left her hair for last. Beginning to feel a little self-conscious at the generous amount of time she had always taken, applying and working in and rinsing through the shampoo and then the conditioner was done almost in haste; she should probably have let the conditioner sit a little longer but her fingertips were already starting to wrinkle in the wet. Sweeping the last few traces out of her hair with the water stream, she stood up and turned off the shower. Carl's ears pricked up as the low buzz of the power unit ceased at last.

Helena climbed out of the bath and stood on the mat to look at her motionless brother: his erect cock was straining so much, she could practically see it throb. There was no holding herself back from leaning in and flicking the bulbous tip with her forefinger where it peeped out of the waistband of her own donated underwear. Carl went into a whole-body shudder for a moment or two, but made no sound. Helena faced him, stark naked, feet braced apart, and started to run her hands lazily up and down along the length of her body. After a while they reached her breasts, cupped and lifted them, a finger tapping softly on the crown of each nipple. Then she bent a little at the knees to trace her hands up across her deliciously smooth legs, caressing the insides of her thighs; one of her hands slid into place covering her sex, the fingers curving in to grasp the newly-bald mound. She pushed her hips forward to within grasping distance of where her brother stood. Then she straightened again, back to business.

"Towel."

He reached the appropriate arm forward, hesitating a fraction in his blindness. She tugged, drawing the fluffy fabric across his forearm before wrapping it around herself and commencing a good stiff rub-down. The air was filled for a minute or two with soft buffing noises. Carl swallowed a nervous gulp. His sister pursed her lips for a moment, disapproving, decided to let it go. The towel landed on the floor with a quiet whump. She took the other smaller one from where it was draped around his wrist, and bound her hair up inside a deftly-coiled turban after a quick effort to squeeze out most of the moisture; the rest of the job would save for later. Then one by one, she took her clothes from where they hung over Carl's other arm and slipped back into them in silence.

When the silk blindfold was removed, Carl blinked in the sudden light. He found his gaze entwined with his sister's, before plunging it downward to merely level with her toes. He felt guilty. The glint in Helena's eyes had been exciting; the feeling grew. He couldn't help but notice from this angle, the head of his stiffened dick staring up at him from inside the knickers he wore. Even tied as it was, he had needed every ounce of self-control to avoid any embarrassing accidents several times today already. Now his sister was just stood in front of him in her usual everyday clothes, damp hair wrapped up in a towel; nothing unusual about that. Totally normal. She reached out and delicately cupped his package in one hand.

"Looks like a tight squeeze inside there, Pony; Jodie must feel like a lucky girl. She should be here to pick you up any minute. Back on all fours now, and come with me; some untidy person has left a pile of boys' clothes all over the floor outside my room, you'll have to clear them up for me. Come along..."

* * *

Carl's girlfriend Jodie, his second Mistress, turned up shortly after. Helena met her at the door with an affectionate hug and quick peck on the lips as they exchanged greetings, Carl standing a little way behind all the while with his regular clothes back on over the knickers and his eyes modestly averted. His excitement levels rose again anew the moment he felt Jodie's touch on his hand, and he followed her meekly from the flat.

Helena let out a long breath as she closed the door, eyes rolled heavenward. That had been fun; she'd have to think up something just as amusing for tomorrow. Now though, she had a date with her laptop and certain saved searches; it turned out that certain of webstores had quite a number of interesting and decorative items relating 'horse tail plug' and 'ponyboy outfit'...