Message-ID: <31333asstr$994615801@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20010708144955.49497.qmail@web20003.mail.yahoo.com> From: Don Winslow Subject: {ASSM} Big Sister Gets Hers (Part 4) (D/s, m/F, humil, spnkng) (4/5) Date: Sun, 8 Jul 2001 14:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, gill-bates __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/ <1st attachment, "Big Sister4.txt" begin> Big Sister Gets Hers (D/s m/F humil spnkng) by Don Winslow Part 4 Ron knew their secret was safe, since neither of them could say a word about what had happened that day in Shelly's bedroom without both of them getting into real trouble. Still, he seethed with venegrence. The awful humiliation burned deep inside him. He swore he'd see that his sister paid for what she'd done to him. He was patient, but he knew that somehow, someday, he would get his revenge on the stuck-up, overbearing bitch who had sat there smirking while he pleasured himself at her command. And then one day, as often happens with such things, his chance came quite out of the blue. That night, Shelly had invited over several of her girlfriends. Two of the girls, Ron thought, were kind of hot, although they wouldn't give him the time of day. Shelly met her friends at the door and they all raced immediately to her room, shouting a greeting to his parents on their way up the stairs. Every once in a while you could hear them giggling through the closed door. He sat in the livingroom with his parents watching TV, vaguely listening to the sounds from her room, feeling bored. He got up to go out on the porch. It was a warm summer's night, and he got to wondering, not for the first time, about what the girls did when they got together. He went down to front lawn and then circled the house, till he came to a place just below her open window. It was then, as he stood looking up at the lighted window, that a curious odor came to him, smoky and sweet- smelling. He recognized that smell. It was pot! Burning marijuana -- he was sure of it! Straining to look up, he thought he saw a faint whiff of smoke come from the open window. Immediately a plan formed in his mind. Walking swiftly but stealthily, he raced back into the house, past the livingroom with his unsupecting parents, to get his mother's polaroid camera. Armed with the camera under a jacket he quickly threw on, he made his escape past the TV watchers, and back out to the sideyard. He was trembling with excitement, forcing himself to be careful, as he climbed the big oak tree that stood outside his Sister's window. Ron climbed this tree many times as a kid. He knew that there was a certain place, up among the branches, where you could get a good view into the room. He sometimes made the climb in hopes of getting a peak at his sister undressing, but she almost always drew the drapes. This time they were left open, undoubtedly to let the telltale fumes escape. He edged up to see over the window sill, and he saw all four of them sitting on her bed in a loose circle. They were sharing a toke, giggling and laughing while rock music pounded from his sister's CD player. He couldn't make out what they were saying, of course, but that didn't matter. It was obvious what was going on. Trembling with excitement, he opened the camera and adjusted the settings. Working to hold it steady, he pointed it at the lighted room and squeezed off several shots as the funny little cirgarette was being passed around. His parents wouldn't tolerate their kids smoking, but they went absolutely crazy over just the thought of drugs. They would have been totally shocked to find their precious little princess was getting high...in their very house! As the first picture emerged from the camera, the grinning teenager felt a deep surge of satisfaction. By the dim light, he studied the photo in his trembling hand. It wasn't too good, but it was clear enough to make it out. He had her! He knew he had her! Now, to plot his revenge. ****** ****** ***** Of course, he knew he'd have to wait till they were alone in the house: it was almost two weeks, with the incriminating photos carefully hidden in the dictionary he kept over the desk in his room. Just knowing they were there, filled Ron with wild elation. From time to time he'd sneak them out to study them, grinning and chuckling to himself. His mood was upbeat. Even his mother noted that he wasn't so "sulky' of late. He just smiled at her, and at his sister, assuring them he was "just fine." Shelly's eyes narrowed. She didn't trust him, and probably sensed that he was up to something. It was only a matter of time till his parents went on one of their regular trips to Aunt Grace's. Aunt Grace was sick; (she was always sick) and mother was worried, so off they went. Shelly was seldom forced to go on these family outings anymore, and increasingly Ron found he could get out of them too, if he had an excuse. Usually, he pleaded that he had extra homework to do, and that almost always worked to get him out of it. So, on that Saturday, and Ron stood behind the front door, watching as their car pulled away, waving back at his mother, who always looked back as she left. Then he turned away, his heart racing with excitement. He made himself stop and think: would have to get a grip on himself, to take it slow and easy. He had her all to himself, and today, she would pay! ***** Retrieving the photos from their hiding place, he marched straight to Shelly's room. He had practiced this day many times in his mind. He would throw open the door, and stride in, confronting her, presenting her with the damning evidence. He tried the knob. The door was locked! He cursed, and knocked, hard. "Shelly, open up!" "Go away! I'm busy." "Shelly, you better open this door. I got something to show you. Something you're gonna want to see." He waited, finally the door opened just a crack and she peered out at him, an expression of annoyance on her face. "What do you want?" "I want to talk to you," he said, holding the pictures behind him. "What have you got there?" she demanded, instantly suspicious. "Something you're gonna want to see. Let me in." She stepped back to let him in. He couldn't help grinning at her, as she stood in the doorway in her tank top and cut-offs, a scowl on her pretty blond face. He had rehearsed this moment many times: what he would say, as, with a dramatic flourish, he produced the evidence of her pot-smoking., and shoved it under her nose. But as he brought the photos out from behind his back, she surprised him by making a grab for them. His reactions were quick; he thrust the set of photos out at arm's length away from her. Although Ron had always been "little brother," he had undergone a spurt of growth that now put him an inch or two taller than his older sister. He used his long gangly arms, and hard, wiry body to keep her at bay. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" he cried. "I'll let you see them. In fact, I want you to see them. You can look, but don't touch." She stopped trying to snatch at the pictures he held up high over his head, and backed off. Ron knew he had her attention now. He sat on her bed, and patted the place next to him. She plunked down on the bed, but not too close, her suspicion deepening. Trying to suppress a smile, he held up the first picture: There was Shelly and Erin, sharing a joint! The next showed Shelly: the funny little cigarette between her lips, her eyes closed, taking a deep drag! He watched her as she silently took in each, while he showed her all six pictures. Once again, she tried to snatch them away, but he anticipated her reaction this time and was a half-second faster. The hand holding the pictures shot up over his head, just as she sprang at him, knocking him backwards onto the bed. Shelly was on him like a wildcat, scrambling up his outstretched body, desperate to get at the damning evidence. He tossed the pictures over the edge of the bed, and as she scrambled after them he wrapped his arms around her hips and rolled her over onto her back. Then he was on her and they were wrestling, like they did when they were kids. But this time it was different, wonderfully exciting to feel her lightly-clad body rubbing against his. She continued to struggle under him; he relished the exciting feel of her: her warm, soft, girl's body squirming under him. He felt a creamy rise of pleasure. Then he managed to overpower her and, straddling her waist, pinned her to the mattress by her upraised wrists. She looked up from under her bangs; fire in her hard brown eyes. "Let me gooo, you creep," she grunted through clenched teeth, arching back off the bed, and inadvertently giving the boy an eyeful of her frisky breasts in their loose halter top. "Whoooa, settle down Shelly. We gotta have a little talk." "Let me uuup!" she demanded. Still the same old bitch! "Not till we've talked about those pictures." The girl ceased struggling. "Let me up, and we can talk," her voice was unemotional. He didn't trust her; knew she was only waiting for a chance to get her hands on the pictures. "No, I like you right where you are," he said, easing back to sit on her belly. "So what do you want, creep?" "First of all, I don't like you calling me names. In fact, why don't you just shut up for once, and listen." He had practiced this speech many times in his mind, but now with her beneath him, glaring up at at him from under those blond bangs, he was momentarily flustered. Summoning up his courage, he took a deep breath and plowed on. "The way I look at it is, that if I show these little beauties to Mon and Dad, you've had it. Mom'll go on the warpath. You'll be grounded for a month. And you know what Dad'll do. He'll use that strap of his on that precious ass of yours till its black and blue. You won't be able to sit down for a week once he gets through with you." For the moment, she only glared at him, wondering perhaps if he was serious, and deciding he probably was. "What do you want?" The voice she used was flat, uncaring. As though she didn't give a damn. If not accepting defeat, she was at least becoming more reasonable. Ronny knew this was a critical time. She could go either way. He was close, very close, but he had to be careful. "Ok, Shell, here's the deal. You remember that time when I was messin' around in your drawers? And you came in, and made me...do what you wanted? Well, now you're gonna do what I want. I'll tell, and I got the evidence to show them. Shelly who was a bright girl, in fact quite bit smarter than her younger brother, grasped the situation immediately. He was blackmailing her! There was no doubt in her mind that the snot would carry out his threat. Her parents thought any kind of drugs were the work of the devil, and her Dad would spank her unmercifully. An involuntary shiver ran through her at the thought. Her hard eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked up at the grinning bastard who hovered over her. She fought to control herself, forcing out the words: "What do you want?" His eyes lit up in barely controlled triumph. "I'm gonna make a deal with you, bitch." He said the last word with increased boldness now. He felt sure he had her! "The way I look at, you're gonna get a spankin' Either I tell and Dad beats your ass black and blue with the strap, or... I do it...with my hand. He was quick to add. You decide." He held his breath, petrified that she still might refuse. After what seemed like an eternity, with the two of them just staring at one another, she was the first to blink. Her blond lashes fluttered down. "I want the pictures," she said in a quiet, but implacable tone. Ron's grin widened. He couldn't help smiling. "Sure Shell, sure. I'll give you the pictures as soon as we're through here. I promise. But first, you have to do what I say...exactly what I say." "All right, get off of me," she grunted reluctantly. Ron slowly dismounted, wary of a sudden attack. He didn't trust his sister, and he wasn't totally sure she had been subdued. But she just lay there, staring at the ceiling, passive, and seemingly acquiescent. Ron got off the bed to bring over a small, gold metal chair, and place it at the center of the room, in front of the big mirror that hung over the vanity. He plunked down on the chair, planted his spread feet, and, giving her a big smile, lightly patted his blue-jeaned thigh. "Ok, bitch, now bring your ass over here." The teenager was clearly enjoying himself. End of part 4 Copyright 2001, Don Winslow For more of Don Winslow's erotic fiction visit: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Don_Winslow/www <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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