The Day My Brother... The End

The following DARK story has themes of non-consent sex, incest, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is an erotic FICTION story not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and never meant to happen in reality.

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Outside I hear the crickets chirping, like they do every night. It used to bring me comfort as when I heard them it was time to sleep. Time to forget about the world and go to sleep. But these days, hearing them is like a precursor about what horrid act is about to happen.

Roughly 6 months ago, I think, my younger 18 year old brother and I had...a situation. It was an accident at first, until he made it not an accident. In short, while both of us were racing to get to the bathroom first to take a shower (and use all the hot water), we both fell down. At the time we both were only wearing towels as in my parent's house you put your dirty clothes in the hamper and wear a towel to take a shower.

My younger brother fell on top of me and on accident, his manhood slipped inside me since both of our towels fell off. Just slipped inside of me in what could only happen in a one in a ten million chance. Long story short, instead of removing his cock out of me, he decided to force-fuck me on the hallway floor. Ever since that day, he's basically been doing the same.

Any time we are alone, he'll use me. Sometimes it's just to see my tits or pussy, while other times it's to fuck me. Sometimes it's for me to perform head, while other times he ties me up and literally spanks/whips me before face-fucking me.

Whenever my parents or someone else is around, my brother acts fine. Normal in fact. He's his normal, goofy, nerdy self. The normal brother I grew up with. It's when it is just the two of us that he changes. Everything about him changes from his attitude, his stance, hell even his body as he seems to gain muscle whenever he is in "danger-mode" as I call it.

I've tried hard to fight against him. Not physically of course. I don't want to physically fight him. I'm too scared. I know he's not a fighter or anything, but still, fighting him seems so scary. So my version of fighting is to beg him to stop, to think about what he is doing. Tell him that our lives would be ruined if our parents found out what he was doing. But he doesn't seem to care. In fact, when I told him he should stop or else our parents might find out, he made me stand naked outside their bedroom door in the middle of the night for 30 minutes.

Also, when he is in danger-mode, I just sort of freeze up. I don't know if it is fear or terror or something else, but I get so scared. I just have to do what he says as I'm scared what more he might do. It very much feels like he can read my mind as some of the things he makes me do are...well...my sexual fantasies' nightmares come to life.

Oh, all the things he has done. These past few weeks have been the worst. At first when he used me, it was him exploring my body (as well as wanting sex). As time has gone on, the wanting sex is still there, but not the exploring. Instead he seems more interested in punishing me with BDSM crap, as well as seeing how badly he can humiliate me. Overall it feels like he's experimenting on me, seeing how much I can take.

Some examples of the horrible, humiliating acts he has done...for example, he logged into some Star Wars DnD site, where he made me stand naked on webcam so all those nerds could see me. For their entire game I had to stand there where they could see. And when they won a battle in their stupid game, I had to fuck myself with a damn Star Wars Lightsaber Dildo that I didn't even know existed.

Another time he made me blow him in front of my bedroom's open window. He wanted the neighbors to see me doing this dirty act as it was at 5 pm, when people are out jogging and whatnot. Since his face was hidden by the curtains, if someone did see, no one knew it was him. They just would see me and think that I was some slut or maybe a prostitute.

"Oh come on, please. Just one night off," I start to beg as my younger brother barges into my bedroom. Like all the times before, he comes in, chest puffed out and a serious expression on his face instead of the easy going fun one he normally has. He's in full danger-mode.

My younger brother walks into my room, leaving the door open as he doesn't seem to care about getting caught or sound traveling. And like many times before, he comes in carrying a large tub like what you would store leftovers in, which surely has the toys he wants to use tonight on me.

"No," my brother states in his cold manner, telling me there are no days off to him molesting me. Immediately I know this time is different. He's acting different. Normally the first thing he says is for me to remove my clothes or to assume some horrible stance. This time he's just staring at me.

"It's time for this to come to an end," my brother tells me, looking me directly in the eye. Hearing this makes my excitement explode. Joy floods me as I can't describe how awesome it would be if this abuse would stop. To no longer have my brother fucking me every single day.

"That's great!" I tell him, trying to show how much I like this idea. I open my mouth to say that I think it's good of him to stop abusing me, as it was nothing but hell and horror. But the words don't come out. I try a couple of times to say this, but each time, it won't come out.

I find I can't say it because we both know that it wasn't hell all the time. As much as I hate to admit it, he's given me orgasms that I didn't know I could feel. He's made me feel beautifully horrible things, which I find myself craving. To say what he's done has been all horrible is a lie, and we both know it.

"Here," he grunts, opening the top of his tub and pulling out a large black trash bag. He then holds it out for me to take, which I do. Looking at it I become very confused as he's never brought a trash bag before. Also, if this is ending, what does he want with this?

"Gather up ALL of your bras and panties," he orders, pointing at my dresser. My brow furrows at this, as I don't understand. He wants my underwear? Why? He's already stolen tons of them, not to mention made me destroy a few during his "sessions."

"W-Why?" I ask. Normally when he starts his sessions I never say anything. But this time is just too odd. The only reason I can think to why he wants my bras and panties is to sell them. As gross as that thought is, that doesn't sound like my brother. To sell my underwear makes senses as it would bring him money. When he is in danger-mode, he never makes sense.

"I told you, it's come to an end," my brother answers in his cold manner, showing how he thinks of me as just an object and not a person. As always, the urge to scream at him to get out of room pops in my head. To scream until my parents wake up and all this can be over. But also like normal, a flood of cowardice washes over me and I get too scared to say anything. Instead I stand up and walk towards my dresser.

I open the top drawer, which is where I keep my panties. As I start to pick them up one by one to put in the bag, my brother moves past me and to my closet. This alarms me a great deal because he's never done this before. He would normally be watching me do his task while taunting me.

Turning my head, I watch my brother slide the closet door open to reveal all of my hanging clothes. He looks at all of them slowly, nods and then reaches into his tub again. This time he pulls out a small unmarked spray bottle. The sort of bottle that you fill instead of buying it with fluid inside.

"Hey!" I exclaim as he starts to spray my hanging clothes. A few seconds after the first spray, I smell the chemical smell of whatever is in that bottle. It has a cleaner sort of smell, like bleach mixed with a dozen different other cleaners. He proceeds to spray my clothes, going hanger by hanger to spray all of the clothing that hangs.

"What are you doing?" I ask very confused and scared, but he doesn't answer. He just keeps on moving down the line of clothes, spraying each one over and over.

When he gets to the halfway point of my closet, I see something I don't believe. The first hanging piece of clothing is a long striped top. I see small holes start to form all over it, which grow and grow. It then slides off the hanger completely as it breaks apart. The holes continue to spread and grow, destroying the top, allowing it to fall to the floor, where it continues to get eaten.

"HEY! You're destroying my clothes! Stop!" I demand firmly as one by one, my clothes start falling off the hangers, being destroyed. Panic begins to take over as this is going too far. I thought the time he made me act like a dog naked in the backyard was going too far, but no. This is. He's on purpose destroying every piece of clothing I have!

"You....you..." I say, about to tell him how this will finally do it. That people will know what he's done and he'll go to jail as I won't have any clothes at all to wear...but I don't say it. I don't say it because a cold sense of dread smacks me hard as I think I understand what he means by "the end."

Deep seated fear and panic builds up in me now as I understand. My eyes widen as I look at him and I try to tell myself that I'm wrong. That what I'm thinking isn't correct. That my brother, as evil as he is, wouldn't do that to me. I'm his older sister after all. But looking at him destroy all of my clothing affirms that yes, he can do what I think he means to do.

When he says that this is ending, he doesn't mean he's going to stop and everything will go back to normal. No. He means he's going to get rid of me somehow. Not murder or anything, but still something horrible. Something horrible and sexual.

"B-B-B-Brother..." I stammer, knowing I have to stop this. He's now sprayed all of my hanging clothes, with a quarter of them on the floor destroyed. Now that he's finished, he slides the closet door closed, which stops the strong chemical smell.

"Shut up. Put your damn panties and bras in the bag," he orders, looking at me with that strange furious expression that always scares me. It makes him look like he's capable of anything bad.

Turning back to the dresser in disbelief, I pick up a pink pair of my panties and drop them into the trash bag. Then I pick up the next pair and repeat. Over and over, I put my panties in the bag, knowing I'll never see them again. What is he going to do with them?

"Savor wearing those pajamas, because they will be the last set of clothes you ever wear," my brother informs me with much spite. I gulp at his comment, knowing how serious he is. There's just so much emotion in his voice, so much directed towards me.

Since that first fateful time on the hallway floor, he's been so mad at me. Why? Because he thinks I hid my vagina from him. He didn't know that I could make him feel the way he does during sex. In his mind, I'm a bitch because I knew this and didn't give it to him, like that is in any way normal. Ever since then, he's been determined to punish me over and over for this imagined slight. Basically punishing me because I never approached him, my younger brother, about letting him use my pussy.

A tear falls as my fear builds even more as I move to the drawer with my bras. The tears I feel are not just from fear, but shame as well. As much as I absolutely hate it, a part of me is getting aroused. Every time he starts in, some dark part of me starts to like it. It's some domination/submission kink I must have buried deep inside me. It comes out only in times like this to make me feel sexually charged and aroused, causing me a lot of great emotional confusion.

I pick up the first bra, which is a black cotton bra and place it in the bag with my panties. As my hands move, they tremble to show my fear. All of this seems so...impossible.

I yelp loudly as my brother unexpectedly pulls on the legs of my pajamas, hard. When he does, my pajama bottoms slide down to my ankles, exposing my bare ass to him. Long ago he forbid me from wearing a bra or panties when I slept, which is why I'm not wearing any.

Now that he's half-exposed me, he walks off. Most of what he does to me these days isn't for his physical sexual pleasure, but to humiliate me. To make me feel pathetic and dominated, such as now having to do this while my ass is out to which he can touch or spank at any moment. Or worse, make me look so stupid if one of our parents happen to walk in.

As I continue to put my bras into the bag, my brother finds my dirty clothes hamper. He grabs it and brings it towards the closet. A soft whine comes out of me as he sprays the hamper's clothes over and over with whatever that is that he has. When he is done spraying them, he opens the closet again and puts the hamper inside. With the door open, I see all of my clothes on the ground, destroyed.

My younger brother slides the closet door shut again, leaving all my clothes inside to quickly rot away. Without any hesitation, he walks back to me as I softly start to pout. Now he grabs the bottom of my pajama top from behind. Like he has done so many times before, he begins to lift it rather roughly, forcing it to go up to expose my back. Roughly and not caring how it hurts, he keeps lifting until I lift my arms so he can remove it.

I let out a soft whine as he removes it off me leaving me topless. Once he removes my top, he reaches down and pulls on my pajama bottoms to make me step out of them. After I do, I'm naked. Completely naked.

Humiliated and naked, I go back to putting the rest of my bras into the bag. Again I know he's stripped me not because of some great urge to see me naked but because he knows how I hate the feeling. Hate having him see me like this. Hate having to feel my breasts jiggle and shake from the movement of my arms. Like many times before, they feel like targets since they are exposed, just like my ass feels like it has a bullseye on it.

"T-There," I say once my last bra is in the bag, leaving the drawer empty. Now all my bras and panties are in the bag. Every single piece of my underwear, which is the last of my remaining clothing.

My brother takes the bag, snatching it out of my hands as if I was going to defend it. I jerk at how violent he does this, but stay facing the dresser so he can only see my backside. Sure, I know he's seen all of me naked countless times, but it doesn't really matter. It still feels strange to be naked in front of him no matter how many times he makes me do it.

"Hands behind your back," he orders in his cold tone. Hearing this sends another wave of panic over me as I know what he plans to do. He's going to tie my hands behind my back, again. Whenever he is in a BDSM sort of mood, it's the first thing he does. He likes to make sure that I'm completely helpless and can't stop him, such as the time he took naked pictures of me and supposedly passed them out to the homeless at the nearby shopping center.

"B-Brother, please," I start, my voice quivering. I turn to look at him, using one arm to cover my breasts and the other hand to cup my shaved womanhood. Doing this is somewhat silly as he's seen me before, but again, I can't help it. It feels weird to be naked in front of my own brother.

"I'm your sister. Whatever you are thinking of doing to me...please. I'm your sister. Think of what-" I plead but he walks to me and grabs my shoulders. He turns me around violently and slams me against my own dresser, making it rock for a moment. Showing his annoyance, he grabs my arms and forces them behind my back, causing me to cry out.

"No, brother please!" I beg as he puts my wrists together. I pout harder now, more tears coming out as my fear, panic and excitement all start to build. These emotions only get stronger when I feel him start to wrap the rope around my wrists.

"Think of what you are doing. Think of what mom and dad will think," I say, trying to convince him to stop. My younger brother says nothing to this and keeps trying my wrists. As the silent seconds go by, I try to think of the magic words to say to stop him. Surely there has to be a way out of this.

"If you do this...if I don't come back...everyone will find out. Everyone will know what you did," I tell him, thinking that sharing what will happen may scare him enough to stop. Again, he says nothing. Just keeps wrapping the rope over and over my wrists, making sure I won't be able to break my hands free.

With a shuddering breath, I feel him tie off the rope. He then lets go of my hands, confident that his bonds will hold. Like normal, I try to pull my hands apart, but also like normal, I can't. My hands are tied and I'm helpless once again. He's gotten quite good at doing this after all the times he's done it.

I yelp out loudly as my brother spins me around to face him. When he does this, I feel that familiar feeling of embarrassment as he can see me naked. My womanly treats are completely exposed to him as my tits swing from the movement and my pussy feels like there's a spotlight on it. And like normal, he takes a moment to look me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time.

"You should have never hidden this from me, sis," he says angrily, his hand moving between my legs to cup my pussy. I cry out at this, stepping back and hitting the dresser as he basically grabs my pussy. But he keeps his hand on me, making me look at him as he does.

"Just like you should have always let me see these," he adds, both hands moving to grab both nipples. Being the cruel bastard he is, he pinches my nipples hard while pulling upward to lift my tits. I whimper in pain and move to my tiptoes as the sensitive pain moves over me as he pulls them higher and higher.

"I told you I'm sorry for that," I try to tell him, which is something he's made me apologize for over and over, as if having sex with your brother is a normal thing to do. My apology doesn't any effect as he begins to jiggle my breasts as he lifts them, smiling at how my breasts look as he does. Whenever he does this, it makes my face go red. It reduces my breasts to nothing more than toys for him to play with as he pleases, maybe me nothing more than an object.

"I'm going to sell you, sister. Got a buyer and everything. Guy said he's going to use you as a sex slave. Going to put you in some strip club backroom, where men will pay a lot of money to be able to fuck you in any way they want," he reveals as he shakes my tits, making my mouth drop open as he doesn't even look at me when he says this.

Stunned doesn't describe what I feel at hearing this. It feels like the air is sucked out of me and my body goes numb. The only thing I can do as no words form in my head, is to look deep in his eyes to see if he's telling the truth. Surely he wouldn't do that. Not to his own sister. He couldn't be that evil.

"You have a problem with that?" He asks, his voice becoming cold and dangerous. He drops my breasts to let them bounce, then right after asking, he steps forward to press his body against mine, where I feel his erection through his pants. His eyes are locked onto mine, daring me to say something he won't like.

I turn my head when he presses against me as it feels like he's trying to crush my body between him and my dresser. He presses harder now, starting to make this even more uncomfortable. The fight and determination I felt moments before feel squashed as he effectively intimidates me.

"N-N-No," I answer softly, my face reddening at being so submissive, again. Inside I get so mad at myself for being like this with him. It's just...he's so scary when he's like this. And, well, that dark submissive part of me loves being like this. That part of me seems to take over my logic producing brain to make my actions ruled by my emotions. That dark submission secretly undermines every sound thought I have.