Tapes in the Attic
by Pan
Chapter 10
After that, it was constant.
Whenever Kim and I were together, I’d be inside her. We didn’t even need a bed. So long as there was a door we could close, I could take my sister however I wanted.
‘Take’ maybe suggests that it was one-sided… just to be clear, Kim wanted it as much as I did. More, if that was even possible. She loved nothing more than doing as I commanded, than using her body to pleasure me.
It’s what she believed her body existed for, after all. Like, I didn’t make the tapes—I guess whoever lived in the house before us did. Kiki, and her off-screen master. Or maybe just Kiki by herself; maybe she was some kind of geisha fanatic who believed women’s natural place was to pleasure their master.
It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I’d accidentally exposed Kim to the tapes (well, the first one had been an accident) and now that Mom had seen what Kim had seen, she wasn’t going to stand in the way of what her children did together. If anything, I think she liked it.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Like I said, whenever Kim and I were alone, we’d be fucking. Sometimes, if we weren’t in quite the right space to have full intercourse, I’d have her go down on me… but I can honestly say that it was best when I was inside her, fucking her from behind, gripping her ass tightly, listening to her gasp out her mantras.
Yeah, maybe that was why I didn’t like head quite as much as sex. There was just something so indescribably hot about the way that Kim would constantly pledge her devotion to me, pledge her submission to her master. To me. And it was hottest of all when it happened while I was balls-deep inside her, using her body for what it was made for.
Pleasing her brother.
”I exist for my master’s pleasure. I am his.”
Kim started sleeping in my bed at night. I mean, why not, right? We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Whenever we were alone, I’d be touching her, kissing her, taking her. I’d have my sister before sleep, and then wake up to the sight of her kneeling beside the bed, pledging her devotion, looking glassy-eyed as the words from the tape fell from her mouth, words that by now she must have repeated as much as everything else she’d ever said put together.
“I cannot help myself, I want to be used. I live to serve my master. To serve him sexually is my purpose.”
Sometimes my sister would come and pick me up after school. I’d instructed her not to gaze at me adoringly when anyone else was around and… look, she did her best.
Even if anyone clocked the way she looked at me, I don’t think ’Kim and her brother are fucking’ is the first conclusion they’d leap to, y’know?
And as soon as we got home, we’d be all over each other. You’d think that knowing I had unlimited access to her body would cool my ardor, but nope. I’d spend the entire day thinking about the next time I’d be inside her, and I swear it was never more than a few minutes after we got home that I was grabbing her small breasts and kissing her neck as I took her, as I drew my pleasure from her.
“I am a tool for my master’s sexual pleasure.”
Just as I never tired of Kim, she never tired of me. The sight of her kneeling submissively beside the bed each day would have been enough to get me hard even if morning wood wasn’t a thing, and I’d start most days inside her. And then again, as soon as we got home. Then there’d be a break for homework, dinner, normal life stuff… but we’d excuse ourselves shortly after, and spend the evening fooling around, until I inevitably groaned with pleasure and unloaded inside my sister before bed.
There was nothing like it. The sounds, the smells, the submissiveness. I think I’ve said already, but I wasn’t, like… into submissiveness before this. Obviously I found it hot once it happened, but it wasn’t like my masturbation time had previously been spent looking at pictures of kneeling geishas.
If the worst happened and one day my sister and mom woke up and somehow went back to normal, I think I’d still have a submissiveness fetish for the rest of my life. The way that Kim would mold her body into whatever I wanted her to be, the knowledge that she was getting off not only from the sex itself, but from how much she enjoyed pleasing me…
Yeah. It was perfect. I don’t think I’m a natural dom, but I’d find myself growling commands at her, just to watch her obey. And to enjoy the pleasure she got from obeying.
The sex was the best part, the submissiveness was the other best part, and I loved fooling around with her just as much. We’d make out, and I’d try to hold back… but it would never be long before I was rubbing myself against her, pawing at my sister’s body as she squirmed and moaned underneath me. Sometimes Kim came a few times before I even got her clothes off her. She just loved the attention I showed her, the knowledge she was serving her purpose, the knowledge that she was turning me on.
“My master is my world. My place is beneath my master. My place is on my hands and knees, ready to serve.”
One day, just to see what happened, I didn’t initiate. This was after days—maybe even weeks—of nonstop fucking.
My sister didn’t say anything, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. She knew it wasn’t her place to initiate, but I could see her doing what she could, using her feminine wiles to attract my attention: a slight wiggle of her hips as she moved, a soft smile here, a bite of the lip there. Nothing overt, but enough to let me know just how much she wanted to fuck.
When I didn’t make a move after dinner, Kim dropped to her knees beside me in the living room. She didn’t say a word, just looked up at me, her eyes pleading.
It didn’t take long for her mouth to start pleading, too. “I am here to serve you,” she said, voice low and throaty, “I will do anything you ask of me, and enjoy it.”
“Kiss me,” I ordered, and Kim practically shuddered with relief. She crawled forward, pressing her lips against mine. Her tongue darted out, and I felt her teeth graze lightly against my lower lip. A few minutes later, the living-room doors were closed (the instructions I’d given Mom hadn’t specified which doors she was not allowed to open) and Kim was whispering my name, quietly begging for me to fuck her harder, deeper, faster.
I loved hearing my sister beg, and I loved seeing those tears of joy in her eyes as she came over and over again, before I finally found my release in the condom. In my sister.
“I am geisha,” she shuddered, pulling her naked body off me, taking the condom and pouring it into her mouth, before returning to hungrily clean me up with her mouth.
That wasn’t something I ordered her to do, by the way. I think she just liked it.
As did I.
After that ‘experiment’, I never withheld sex from my sister again. Yes, she wouldn’t have wanted any of this without the tapes… but the tapes had happened, and there was no going back.
There was no going back, and so long as I followed the rules, I could live with what I’d done. I’d broken one rule, but I’d had to. Mom had been preventing us from ever being alone, she was clearly getting suspicious, and my sister was suffering… I’d had no choice.
But now that was done, and I had sworn not to break any of the rules ever again.
I don’t know that any teenage boy has ever had as much sex as I got over the next month. Maybe, like, Justin Bieber at the height of his fame? Or Leo, back in the nineties?
I’d bet good money that no one in the history of the world has ever had as much sex with his sister. We were going through a pack of condoms every few days. It would’ve gotten expensive, except…
Well, I had Mom buy them for us.
It was the only other instruction I gave her, originally, other than ’act normal’ and to leave us alone when we were behind closed doors. She’d obeyed—part of me had been worried that the command would be ‘too sexual’, like asking Kim the color of her panties had been, but after the order was given, Mom always returned from her trips to the grocery store with a packet of condoms.
I have no idea what the store clerk thought. Maybe that Mom was finally getting some.
Oh, yeah—I found out later, that’s what had made her suspicious in the first place. She’d found the packet of condoms that I’d bought, for that first time with Kim… that’s why she’d refused to go out to the movies, refused to leave me alone.
She didn’t suspect Kim was up to anything, except maybe turning a blind eye as I snuck someone in. But that’s what had started the whole thing; Mom snooping around my room and finding my packet of condoms… with one missing.
But when I asked her to buy them for us, there was no resistance. Mom did exactly as she was told.
Mom always did exactly as she was told.
It was less noticeable than it had been with Kim, I think because it wasn’t a personality shift at the same level. Like, Kim was always really headstrong and defiant, whereas Mom had always been sorta… quiet, I guess. Especially after Dad died.
Kim’s fiery personality made the transformation super obvious, but it was more subtle with Mom.
Except for when I thanked her.
Any time I gave Mom a command, she’d do as she was told—she even got visible pleasure from it, just like Kim did. She’d shiver, her eyes would flutter, she’d smile softly at obeying. Again, it was less apparent than Kim’s response, but I knew what to look for: That expression of satisfaction. Of fulfilling her purpose. The look that Kim wore every time I finished inside her. Or onto her face. Or tits.
When I thanked Kim, she’d maybe gasp with pleasure or blush.
But when I thanked Mom, she came.
Yeah.
Each and every time I thanked Mom, no matter what it was for, she’d cum. Whenever she did something I’d ordered—or even just requested!—if I expressed gratitude for it… she came.
It took me almost a week to notice. We’d been alone in the house (Kim was out jogging; rule 1) and I’d asked Mom to pick up the pencil I’d just dropped. As you’d expect, Mom did as she was told. She knelt down (Mom and Kim would take any excuse they could to kneel, especially in front of me) and picked it up.
Then, when she handed it to me, I smiled down at her and said it without giving it a second thought.
“Thanks.”
In response, Mom’s mouth fell open, and she let out a small gasp of pleasure. Her eyes went hazy, and I saw her hands clench. Obviously I don’t have, like, medical proof that it was an orgasm or anything like that. But trust me: it was an orgasm.
She took a moment to recover, to compose herself… and then, aside from her red cheeks and slight breathiness, it was like nothing had happened.
Fuck me it was hot.
Before showing her the tape, I’d never seen my mother in a sexual light. Just like Kim, I guess, but… I dunno, Kim was my age. She was a teenager, in the prime of her sexual life. Seeing a teenager in a sexual light isn’t exactly a challenge, y’know?
My mother was old—she’d just turned forty, and it’s not like I was into MILFs.
She was just my Mom.
But after watching her kneel and pledge her submission, after seeing her cheeks go red and her eyelids flutter as she came, from just a single word from me… from her master…
It was hard not to look at her differently.
But I wouldn’t do anything. Rule 1. Rule 3. My mistakes so far had all forced me to go further than I’d ever wanted to with my sister: I was not going to make that mistake again with Mom. I didn’t want to. I didn’t need to.
I had Kim. That was all I needed.
And so, after watching—after accidentally causing—my mother’s orgasm, I called my sister and she came straight home.
Jogging could wait.
I’d never had sex with her straight after a workout. I never would have guessed that the sheen of sweat on her body would be so hot. And even though she’d raced home, she still put all she had into pleasing me.
Going forward, I vowed to never thank Mom again. Not saying thanks. That was something I could do pretty easily.
The second time it happened, Kim was there. Mom had made mochi rice balls; they’d been my favorite as a kid, and I still loved them. I was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading, Kim kneeling beside me. My hand was stroking her hair as I read (we both loved that kind of casual, couple-y touch, and Mom never said a word when she saw it).
Mom surprised me by setting a plate of the rice balls beside me, and I smiled up at her. “Oh, wow!” I said. “Thanks, mom!”
The second the words left my lips, I realized what I’d done.
I assume Mom didn’t masturbate—like I said, she’s forty—so I was probably her only source of orgasms. Hell, maybe that’s why she’d made the rice balls in the first place, to try to trick me into thanking her.
No, I don’t think Mom is conniving. Or manipulative. I think she just wanted to please me. She lived to please me. It had just been a kind thing to do for her master.
The orgasm was an accidental side-benefit.
As soon as I said those words, Mom gasped. Her eyes widened, her body tensed. She moaned quietly, and I could see the way her hips twitched slightly.
“Mm… " she murmured, her lips parted. She bit her lip, and her nipples hardened through the fabric of her shirt.
Dear god did I try not to look at my mother’s nipples.
After a few moments, Mom silently excused herself, I managed to shift my attention to anywhere except my mother’s chest, and Kim went back to staring off into space, wordlessly muttering her mantras. She didn’t say anything about Mom’s orgasm, and I didn’t ask, so I had no clue if she’d even noticed.
But when I finished the last rice ball (delicious as ever) I ordered Kim to get up and close the door.
* * *