Sisterly Blackmail

This smutty story focuses on the theme of cheating and unfaithfulness, which can entail a myriad of details and fetishes including, but not limited to, lust-based attraction, illicit acts, feelings of dominance and superiority, betrayal, corruption, humiliation, as well as thrills of a cuckold/cuckquean.

If such things are not to your liking then please do not read further. These are just fantasies to be enjoyed by those who find them appealing.

This particular one is in the line of cheating men and seductresses who get involved.

===

Mark and Barbara had been recently engaged. They were living in a nice, suburban house. A new, young couple, headed straight towards creating a beautiful family.

He owned a relatively big-sized business, and worked diligently and hard for it to prosper, while Barbara had an office job that meaningfully contributed to society.

It was a warm summer, most of the days were very pleasant. The temperature didn't get too high, and the air didn't get too dry nor too humid. On one fateful Wednesday, Mark was sitting in the living room of their house.

It was spacious and beautiful. With a big plasma TV, an expensive looking bookcase, a minibar in the corner. A wide dining table, many chairs. As well as a set of a high-end couch and two matching armchairs, facing the TV.

And then Barbara came to him with surprising news.

"Sweetheart, I, uhm..."

"Yeah? What is it?" he asked, looking up at her as he sat on the couch.

She appeared...distraught. Scared, even.

"I don't know how to tell you this but, uh, my sister is going to stay with us for a few days."

"Wait, hold on. Sister? Mark asked, perplexed. "I didn't know you even had a sister!"

"Because I didn't want you to know she existed. I... I don't want her in my life," Barbara said, coldly and a little fearfully.

Mark raised his eyebrows quizzically. It was uncharacteristic of his fiancée, she was usually kindhearted, nice, and upbeat. Not scared and angry like that. What was their issue? Sibling rivalry? Was she ashamed about something?

"Sounds like, uh, you hate her," he stated, trying to make it sound mild.

"Yes, I do. You have no idea. She's a nightmare."

There was a long pause.

"And?" Mark broke the silence, curious. "You're not going to elaborate?"

"I can't, I really can't," Barbara said pleadingly. "Please, just trust me."

"Ok...but why is she staying with us then? And why didn't you even ask me?" Mark continued. He would be supportive, of course, but couldn't help but be slightly annoyed. "I'm not exactly thrilled to have a surprise guest, out of nowhere, and without having a say in the matter."

"I'm so sorry, baby," Barbara apologized, her voice trembling as she sat down next to him snuggled up to her husband-to-be. "I'm so sorry, but I have to let her, I have to and I can't say no, and I...I..."

Seeing she was seemingly at the end of the ropes, close to the point of tears, he relented. He didn't understand it at all, but he still loved her. He would trust her if she needed him to.

"Okay, okay, fine. There, there," he said gently, hugging her. Like a dutiful partner providing her with a shoulder to cry on, to share her burden. "It'll be alright, we'll manage. I'll help however you need me to."

Barbara melted in his embrace, trembling yet quickly calming down due to her wonderful man's presence.

"Thank you, and I'm just so sorry..." she whispered.

"It's okay," he cooed, his hands rubbing her back. "When will she arrive?"

"She said on Friday, later in the afternoon..."

---

The dreaded day came soon enough. Mark didn't really feel bothered, just wanting to get it over with. His fiancée, however, was walking on pins and needles since morning, probably also having caught little sleep in the night.

It was indeed late afternoon, almost evening. The lovely couple were sitting together in their living room, watching TV, when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Barbara instantly got up and almost ran to the door. Mark also stood up and followed, but far more calmly.

He had yet to walk past the corner to see the door when he heard their guest.

"Wooow, nice house! How did a dumb bitch like you get to live in a house like that, huh?"

Mark almost stopped in his tracks, stunned and shocked.

"Um, thanks Pam," Barbara replied, meekly.

He was shocked yet again, and then he stepped in sight.

"Hey, guys," he opened with, but then froze, yet again, when he saw Barbara's sister.

The fact they were related was obvious enough, even though the familiality and resemblence was subtle and in the details. And yet, at the same time, it was beyond surprising.

Because their very feminine guest was not in a different league than Barbara - she was in a different sport altogether. It was unbelievable how much more beautiful she was.

Lustrous blonde hair, gorgeous face of a supermodel, sharp makeup, and a body straight from a wet dream clad in a size-too-slim pink T-shirt with a valley of cleavage and skin-tight blue yoga pants.

She was clearly fit as hell, with sexy, taut abdomen and oh-so-slim waist and curvy hips that brazenly boasted about her perfect hip-to-waist ratio. And, to top it all of, she had huge, juicy, and almost unbelievably perky tits.

With the attitude that he had just heard a hint of, there was no doubt she was more than a big handful...in several ways.

"Oh!" the beauty exclaimed in surprise. For just a moment, however, as her voice soon turned sultry and her pouty lips curved in a strange smile. "Hello indeed...who might you be?"

Mark saw, and felt, what happened next - how her eyes dropped and slid up and down his body.

Now, he wasn't a bodybuilder or nothing crazy like that, but he did workout hard and regularly.

And Pamela immediately noticed.

"I'm Mark, Barbara's fiancé. You're her sister, I'm assuming?

"Mmmhm," she hummed, still smiling strangely.

There was a tiny bit of pause. His fiancée did not seem eager to join in, either.

"That's a, uh, surprise, see - I didn't even know she had one."

"Yeeeah about that..." the sister's tone turned from dripping with honey...to cold and ruthless. "What's up with that, Barb? You didn't tell me you were in a relationship either...that you're engaged, even!"

Barbara remained silent, her lips thin. Seeing that, Mark was shocked even further.

Why was she acting like this, not speaking up? And was it true what he had just heard? That she didn't even tell her sister that she wasn't living alone, nor anything else of that note? Was she that ashamed, or was her hate that great?

"And to such a fucking hunk, too!" Pam added, not hiding her excitement and ostentatiously biting her lip as she stared at him intently. She liked what she was seeing.

"Woah, excuse me?!" Mark almost shouted out in surprise.

He was more baffled than insulted. After all, what kind of a man wouldn't enjoy being complimented by a woman that pretty, that attractive?

But he was not only engaged, to the flirtatious minx's sister no less, but said fiancée was right there with them! It wasn't just brazen and impolite, it was downright obnoxiously rude!

"Please, don't," Barbara said barely loudly enough, looking at the ground.

"Huh? What was that?" Pam asked mockingly, stepping forward to her sister, her voice dripping with venom again.

Mark couldn't believe his eyes. Barbara visibly recoiled at Pamela's approach, not even looking her in the eyes.

"Nothing," Barb whispered.

"Huh, must've been the wind, then," Pam replied, almost as if to herself.

He didn't know what to think or do. After all, they were sisters, not strangers. They must've had their own...dynamic.

"Anyway, where was I...hi there, again!" the supermodel-like beauty said perkily as she turned to face and walk towards the man of the house.

It was uncanny how her voice once again turned so sweet and lovely that she could convince anybody to anything.

"I'm Pam, or Pamela, but you can definitely call me Pam!" she introduced herself, stepping closer and closer.

Mark just stood there, letting her walk up to him, still trying to figure out what exactly he should do, since his wife-to-be appeared downright terrified of this woman.

"Or maybe you could come up with some cute nicknames for me, like...I don't know, sweetie, cutie, or maybe just a hot piece of ass, haha! I wouldn't mind it, like, at all..."

'WHAT?!' flashed through his mind, making him raise his eyebrows as high as they could go.

She strutted into his personal space confidently, way closer than it was appropriate.

He stared at her, not budging an inch. Still disbelieving how casually she had just said how she wanted him to call her sweet names like he would a girlfriend, or a lover...not his fiancée's sister.

It wasn't common, that kind of aggressive, brazen sexuality. And Mark would be lying if he said he didn't find it...a little arousing.

"Come on, hunk, let's hug it out!" Pamela said suddenly, embracing him without warning.

Mark had only managed to lean back a little as Pamela's body squished against his. Sensations of each other's body heat crashed against each other. The seductive minx even pushed her fantastic tits into him deliberately, wanting him to get really well acquainted with them.

His bending backwards, trying to escape, did nothing to help avoid the sensations...it did however cause her body to lean its weight against his more, at an angle, as if she were ever so slightly lying down on top of him.

"Mmm, we're gonna have sooo much sweaty fun as in-laws" she purred into his ear, conjuring illicit, hot visions right into his brain.

"Okay, back off, that's enough," he said as sternly as he could in this situation.

She didn't react, of course.

He placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs barely sinking into a very taut tummy as he began to physically push her back.

"Oh, yeah, right there, just slide your hands down and cop a feel of my ass. I promise you'll love it," she said persuasively as she only hugged him tighter and began a slight rubbing motion with her rack, as it was tightly sandwiched between their torsos.

Despite 'slightly' wanting to follow her advice, Mark pushed her away more forcefully, till he finally managed to break her hold and make her step back. He didn't want, after all, for her to feel his rapidly engorging dick.

She wasn't just hot, she was dangerous. All because she knew how to use it.

"Fuck, Pam, yeah? Okay, like, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he raised his voice in anger.

To be fair, he wasn't nearly as angry as he should've been.

Pamela just smiled innocently, fluttering her eyebrows.

"Ohhh, just playing around. That's what I do, haha," she answered as if nothing of note had happened.

Then she turned away from him and headed deeper inside the house, strutting as if she owned the place. Mark watched her go, his eyes instinctively and out of their own volition dropping to her mouth-watering, firm, juicy ass, the blue material of her yoga pants hugging her curves lovingly.

For a split second he felt utmost regret of not taking the opportunity to indeed cop a feel earlier.

"Barb, dearie, would you be a sweetheart and carry my bags in for me? Thanks," Pamela said loudly after she had disappeared out of sight.

"Yes, Pam," Barbara replied meekily, grabbed her sister's car keys from the entryway cabinet and went outside, not sparing Mark a single glance.

He stood speechless, his mouth agape. His usually confident, wholesome fiancée just...obediently did whatever her younger, bratty sister told her to do. Like a...slave, or something!

Also, he wasn't sure whether Barbara was just pretending, or what, but no woman should've remained this calm about another woman squishing her sexy body against the former's man!

After a while, Mark shook himself out of his reverie. After adjusting his pants slightly he followed Barbara out, to wordlessly help her carry her bitchy sister's bags.

---

Pamela spent that time checking the place out.

'It has to be Mark's, gotta be. He's clearly loaded, Barb wouldn't be able to afford this on her own...' she thought to herself as she looked around.

Her wicked, scheming mind was already hard at work formulating a plan to have some fun, if nothing else. She absolutely loved tormenting her 'oooh so much older, so much more mature, so much wiser' sister whenever she had the opportunity.

It wasn't just because she enjoyed it, thought. Pamela genuinely believed that Barbara was, in fact, beneath her. Less pretty, less fit, less clever. Worked hard, not smart. And, most importantly, she didn't have a rack like that.

And yet...it was Barbara who landed a man like Mark. A man who was just perfect! Well, maybe he wasn't - Pamela hardly knew him but she was always quick to make up her mind. Any other man, after all, wouldn't be shacking up with boring-ass Barbara, right?

So far, for Pamela, he checked all the boxes. Fit, loaded, responsible. Best of all he was already falling hard for the younger, better sister - she totally felt it. At least she thought she did, and that meant reality didn't matter - it was either as she already wanted it to be, or it was subject to change.

Okay, she was probably exaggerating. But there was no way she wouldn't try to enjoy the weekend to the fullest. What did she have to lose, exactly? Her sister's respect? Pamela didn't even want it!

Any other tangible notion of failure or loss didn't even register to Pamela's mind. Not with her limitless confidence, considering what she did for a living.

'Alright, first things first,' she decided and headed upstairs, the only place left where she could find what she was looking for.

Her guess was correct, as she located the master bedroom soon enough. Noises downstairs announced that Barbara and Mark returned as well, carrying Pamela's bags and belongings inside.

Pamela entered the bedroom and smirked. The bed was big and looked very enticing, very comfy. Just perfect for a good night's rest. Or a good night's fun.

She jumped onto it with a tiny, cute squeal. It was soft enough to sink in ever so slightly, and yet firm deeper down to more healthily support proper spine alignment. Clearly a mattress of the higher end.

"Mmm, that's niiice," she hummed, rolling around for a moment.

It smelled fresh and clean, with a subtle scent of its regular occupants.

A naughty thought entered her mind. She smirked, and proceeded to strip.

---

"What's the deal between you two?" Mark asked his fiancée as they entered, closing the door behind them and placing Pamela's bags by the entrance.

Barbara remained silent, still not meeting his questioning looks.

"Where is she anyway?" he asked after a while, looking around.

"Probably upstairs," Barbara replied, walking deeper inside the house.

"Oooh so you CAN talk!" Mark joked, following her. "Seriously, tell me. She's treating you like dirt, why are you letting her?"

Barbara frowned but otherwise remained silent. They entered the living room.

She plopped onto the couch, and hung her head down. Mark's concern grew as he watched. His beloved fiancée looked...defeated.

He stepped in front of her and crouched down, forcing himself into her field of vision. She looked at him, her eyes sad. He grasped her hands gently.

"Hey, sweetheart? It's gonna be alright, okay?" he talked softly and sweetly, trying to cheer her up like a good man should. "I don't even know her, but she can't just treat you like this, especially if it makes you feel bad. I'm going to tell her either to behave or to get out of my house."

Barbara's eyes shot wide, and her face showed pure panic. She squeezed his hands tightly.

"No! No! Don't, please, just let her do whatever she wants. Please!"

Mark almost fell backwards on his ass, stunned, not expecting that kind of reaction.

"Promise me you won't do anything like that! Treat her nice, please! I know she's a totally spoiled brat, a complete bitch, I know it doesn't make sense but please, do what I ask, okay?"

"But...but why?" he whispered, more than a little confused.

"I can't tell you. Please. Trust me, and promise me!" the look in her eyes was desperate.

Mark frowned. A long while followed, filled with tense silence. Barbara's eyes teared up ever so slightly. Seeing that, he finally relented and nodded affirmatively.

"Hey! Barb!" a loud shout came from upstairs. "Get over here!"

"Ughh...I'll go see what she wants..." Barbara said dejectedly, standing up.

Mark stood up and moved back, letting Barbara pass, then sat in the armchair. Trying hard, but unsuccessfully, to accept what the hell was going on.

---

In the master bedroom, Pamela was naked on the bed. Her clothes lay discarded all over the sheets.

That's when Barbara stepped inside.

"What the fuck!" she shrilled at the sight. "What are you doing?!"

Her younger sister from hell smirked as she continued rubbing one of the two bed pillows against her hot, nubile body. Especially squashing them against her bulging boobs and sliding them against her labia.

"Just leaving my scent, marking my territory, that sorta thing. Any objections?" Pamela explained, her voice dripping with challenge and venom. Daring her sister to complain, to protest.

Barbara watched, grossed out and with horror, swiftly recalling that she should think twice before saying anything. She had no doubts her evil sister could, and probably would, carry out her unmentioned threats without reservation.

"What happened?" Mark's worrying shout came from downstairs.

"You better answer him...unless you want him to come here and see me like this," Pamela said calmly. "I certainly wouldn't mind, haha."

"Uh, nothing! Sorry, it was my bad!"

The younger, hotter sister just smirked in victory, not slowing down her motions in the slightest. Tension was palpable in the air, yet she remained as relaxed and comfortable as she had been all day.

"So, which pillow is yours? And you'd better not lie," Pamela said threateningly.

Barbara swallowed and quietly pointed to the other pillow.

"Mhm, so now you can think of how your hubby-to-be is going to rest his head against my beautiful tits, even though indirectly. And maybe my smell will make him all hard for me, too?" Pamela wondered out loud, her smirk growing ever wider.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Barbara asked with despair, brought to the point of tears.

"Because you deserve it, you dumb bitch. Because I hate you. And because I just fucking can, and I love it. Speaking of which!" she explained and finally exclaimed, dropping the pillow and reaching for the other one, the one Barbara pointed out.

Pamela placed it right underneath and sat down on it, proceeding to ostentatiously rub her ass against it. Her bouncy bubble butt was very clean - she prided herself on hygiene - but it was the gesture and the audience that counted.

"Mmm, that's better," she said, then flipped it to the other side and continued. "I don't think I need to tell you what'll happen if you'll dare to change the covers, or in general if you get in my way, or try to stop me."

Barbara's shoulders dropped. In the past, she had never found a way out of her sister's blackmail. Thus, she tried to distance herself as much as possible. Obviously, it wasn't enough, and she still had no idea of a way out of her predicament.

"Got it?"

Barbara nodded. Pamela, satisfied with her sister's answer, finally threw the pillow back and proceeded to put her clothes back on.

"Now, some ground rules about how you're gonna work hard to help me enjoy my stay here..."

---

The TV was on and showing some comedy show. Not knowing what was happening upstairs, Mark felt it was better for him to wait downstairs till the sisters talked out whatever issues they had. Barbara's words did not give him peace of mind, however.