SexStory2 » The Younger Sister




            You could hear the noise before they carried her into the garage. She was in a ball in her tight wire dog kennel. Her small tanned body was naked and covered in sweat. Her hands and ankles were bound together with barbed wire behind her. On top of the wire holding her wrists and ankles together was more barbed wire wrapped around the entirety of the girl’s body with a harshness that wasn’t considerate of later health. The barbed wire was closely spaced and began at the bottom of the girl’s upper legs and ended at the tops of her shoulders. Her elbows were wired together, touching, her upper arms pressed firmly into her back. Her lower legs were pressed tightly against the backs of her upper legs with her heels digging into her ass.

The girl’s eyes lit undiluted panic. You could see her tongue move behind the ring gag, and the pained noise of the vowels she screamed against the shock of her electric shock collar was shrill and broken and barely intelligible.

The collar had earlier been turned to full power. The noise continued.

One of the women carrying the package was older looking, in her forties, and the other woman carrying the package was in her late twenties. The two of them hoisted the girl out of the cage and held her propped up on her knees by her two pigtails, one tail for each woman. The girls ankles were pulled up to her buttocks by the chain connected to her wrists. The garage floor was hard and cold on the girls knees.

The girl looked up at the younger of the women. She ignored the older one. Four tears were coming down the naked girl’s cheeks. She had full, Eastern European cheeks that were pretty in a childish sort of way. The girl was in her mid twenties now but she had a petite figure and prim features that made her never seem to develop beyond her teens. She had retained the tightness of body often lost after a girl’s last period of growth. Her breasts were small but they were balanced with the rest of her. She had the curves of a woman but they seemed a little under-pronounced and her skin was smooth and soft and took on an olive hue in the dim garage light.

One of the tears traveled over her lip and into her mouth through the O demanded by the ring gag. The noise of the electricity mixing with the girl’s desperate voice was hard to take. It was slow but the words were understood. Please, you can do anything to me, just keep me. I am your sister. This is my life.

The younger woman holding her only smiled. She seemed to be amused. She had grown up into a very beautiful looking woman. Her breasts had become good size, her curves were pronounced and her facial features had taken on the fullness of a fully developed woman. She bent over and kissed the girl on the forehead and then joked with the older woman. The joke was unrelated to the crying girl.

The crying girl looked across the room to the man sitting in a chair, watching and smoking a cigarette. The cigarette was almost out. The girls eyes were red from crying all day, and they asked him to be to her as he hadn’t been in a very long time. They hadn’t asked him in the same very long time but now they were very urgent.

The man got up and walked to her. He took a last puff of his cigarette while running his hand over the girl’s wet face. He wiped the wetness onto his pants thigh. He tilted the girl’s head back and dropped the remainder of the cigarette in her mouth and then helped the women with the barbed wire without monitoring what precisely became of the cigarette. 

Though she was a delicate girl she had relatively thick thighs and the wire bit them into a sequence of rolling hills. Where the barbs pressed into her body there were small stars of indented skin.

The girl’s pussy was shaved bare and you could still see the dainty padlocks locking together the rings pierced along both pussy lips. The three bells were still hanging from their rings and the top bell and the top padlock were held upwards, pressed upside down into the girl’s skin by a barb.

The girl was visibly shaking and the barbs cut into her. The faint sound of the bells, including the two attached to the rings pierced into her nipples, could be heard underneath the girl’s miserable squealing. The squealing was non-verbal. Then two words could be made out. I’m afraid. Then the squealing was non-verbal again.

The girl’s breathing was fast-paced because the usual depth of breath was too painful against the barbs. The shock collar was taken off before the noose was wrapped around her neck. She was balanced squarely on her knees on top of a cart. The cart creaked and moved minimally back and forth underneath her while her restless body moved under the noose. She was made to be quiet and not beg or else they would kick the cart away and she wouldn’t be allowed to watch the video. She couldn’t quiet down below a low erratic moaning.

The younger woman stood next to the girl while the video played. She ran her hand through the girl’s pig-tailed hair and then held onto the girl’s bare foot sticking out behind her to steady the creaking cart.

The video was a montage of their home footage taken over the years.

At the beginning the camera approached a closet and a hand reached into the shot from behind the camera and opened the closet door. A young teenager, a younger version of the girl now noosed, younger but not that different, was laying in cotton shorts and a tight t-shirt on the floor of the closet, bound in copious rope and gagged with a pillow case. She looked up into the camera, her eyes squinting for the sudden return of light, and the same voice of the woman now holding the foot of the wired, noosed girl, asked, “Do you want to be let out yet?” The young girl on the floor shook her head. “Alright, goofball,” the voice replied, and the closet door was shut.

In the next shot a number of girls in their teens were acting boisterous in a girlish bedroom. The bedroom door opened in the corner of the shot and the camera panned to center the same girl from the closet, the same girl under the noose now walking into the bedroom with a tray full of drinks. She set the tray down and stood by it for a second, not sure where to put her eyes, glancing to the camera and then looking quickly away to nowhere specific. “Thank you, Alyssa,” the familiar voice said, and then the girl nodded subtly and noiselessly left the room. “Where are all her friends?” another voice asked.

The next clip saw the camera focused on a younger version of the man from the garage sitting in a living room and looking uncomfortable with the camera in his face. The familiar voice was gleeful and giggling interviewing him. He was smiling himself and it seemed they were both animated by the pure, simple joy of love.

A voice was heard in the background faintly calling out. “Heidi!,” it repeated, and the camera turned away from the man and moved down the hallway. The arm reached out and opened the door at the end of the hallway. It was dark inside the room. When the arm flipped the light switch the girl could be seen laying on the bed with her arms over her head handcuffed to the bedpost. “I can’t reach the key. It’s in the drawer,” the handcuffed girl said. The voice behind the camera replied, annoyed, “I left you tied up all last night! You already have to handcuff yourself to the bed today? You’re out of control. Stop bugging me with this all the time. I’m leaving you there. Don’t bug us again. I’m trying to be with my boyfriend.”

The camera backed up and began turning around. It turned back to the girl and hesitated on her for a second. She looked over to the camera with shame, her eyes paused, looking into the viewer with the pausing of the camera. The camera turned around again and the lights went back off. The door closed and the camera moved back down the hall.

In the next clip the older sister was holding the camera up and pointing it backwards towards her face. “Today is Alyssa’s birthday,” she said. “And we’re going to wake her up and surprise her with her present.” The camera flipped around and faced the same bedroom door from the preceding clip. When it opened the girl was bathed in the sunlight of the morning coming in through the window. Her hands were handcuffed together behind her back. Her ankles were cuffed together also. She was laying face down on the wooden edge of the bed, half of her body over the side. She was rubbing her crotch against the wood and when she looked back and saw the camera she fell off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor. The camera moved in and hovered above her. The older sister let out a deep, concerned sigh and the clip ended.

Now the younger girl looked older and her face wore a resignation not as prominent in the earlier clips. Time had passed. Her wrists and elbows were tied together behind her back and she wore a collar that connected by a chain to the treadmill. She wore a pair of red high heels made out of shiny leather. A pair of black underwear and a small red t-shirt were all the clothing she wore. The older sister was standing next to the treadmill turning up the speed. She was laughing and her regard towards her younger sister seemed to have changed. She walked up to the camera and spoke into it. “This is how Alyssa gets her exercise now. She doesn’t get much in between all the other stuff.”

She walked back up to the treadmill and turned the speed up more. The girl was struggling to keep up. Her ponytail was bouncing up and down and she was on the verge of stumbling. The older sister stuck her foot out and tripped the girl. The girl landed face down and let out a piercing grunt. She began to be pulled backwards but the slack of the chain connected to her collar quickly ran out. She was trying to keep her face up away from the burn of the passing treadmill and it seemed the wind was knocked out of her.

The older sister was standing over her and began shouting. Her face was red. It was a terrible rage overflowing from an abandon that wouldn’t have seemed possible in the earlier clips. Something had changed. “MY BOYFRIEND IS NOT GOING TO FUCK YOU! HE WOULDN’T FUCK YOU, IT’S PLAIN AS DAY, YOU’RE PATHETIC! YOU’RE HOPELESS! YOU HAVE NO DISCRIMINATION! WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU IF I’M NOT AROUND TO BEAT SOME SENSE INTO YOU? DON’T TRY AND TEMPT HIM!”

The next clip saw the younger sister in the same outfit and the older sister in the same rage. It was taken from the same day. The older sister was duct taping the girl into a compact ball. When she was done she told her younger sister to tell them what she had done. The younger sister looked up into the camera. Her face looked the stone stillness of perfect shame. I tied myself naked to my sister’s bed because I knew her boyfriend was going to come in, she said.

The girl looked away from the camera and the older sister began wrapping the duct tape around her mouth. The girls eyes looked to the floor in defeat while the tape wrapped around. Then the duct tape came over her eyes.

The girl was lifted up into a small trunk next to her sister’s bed. It was padlocked shut. There were journals and photographs on the floor next to the trunk. They had been taken out to make room. “Goodnight,” her sister said to the trunk before shutting the camera off.

It was a video of the older sister and her boyfriend, the man from the garage and the man from the earlier clip, before going out to prom. The boyfriend came in a tuxedo with flowers, the older sister came down the stairs in her dress, they posed for pictures before they went out. As they were going out the door the older sister said to whoever was holding the camera, “Hey, get a shot of Alyssa before you turn the camera off.”

After the front door closed the camera went down to the basement. The girl was in the laundry room. Her hands were chained overhead to a height that left her body very taught. She was naked and a red ball was strapped in her mouth on the outside of a pillowcase pulled down over her head. Her body was written over with black marker.




The older sister looked away from the tv screen at her younger sister wrapped up in barbed wire and noosed. She was sobbing now and bleeding from several areas.  Heidi, she sobbed. There were tears running all the way down her torso, beading on wire, adorning her body with gleaming lines of reflected garage light. The older sister squeezed the girl’s foot and looked into her eyes waiting to hear more. It hurts, the girl sobbed. I will be perfect for you. I won’t ever act entitled.

The older sister threaded the girl’s toes with her fingers while she spoke. “Oh, little baby,” she said. She spoke in a tone commonly directed at pets or small children. “You’d think you’d know your command lost its last pittance of weight years ago. It was a long time ago, you gave it up yourself.” The older sister redirected her tone to the other older woman, the woman in her forties. “She set the ball rolling when she was a pre-teen , after our parents died. She pushed it and pushed it, she wouldn’t give it a rest, and then it began building speed on its own and she just let it keep going, she didn’t raise the slightest objection, and then it was out of her hands completely and she only seemed to feel perfectly at home.”

The older sister pushed the cart back so the girl’s knees were at its very front and the older sister could stand directly in front of her. The older sister casually flicked one of the bells on the girl’s nipples. She put her hands behind the girl’s back and pulled the girl towards her very slightly with the few fingers that would fit between wires.

“This is where the ball ends honey. It’s unalterable. This is what you are. This is how you defined yourself. I can’t recall a single significant stroke you generated in any other direction. This is just what happens eventually to your kind of thing when it is no longer beneficial to keep.” She looked to the man and the other woman and directed the last of her speech at them. “We don’t expect of her not to act foolishly though. That would be foolish of us.”

The girl’s body began struggling. The cart was creaking again and the girl’s bleeding was more. The struggling had very little room to become. The motions were quick and hardly. The noose held the girl’s head up from looking down for any glimpse of her body. “Watch the end of the video Alyssa,” her older sister told her.  

The girl in the video now looked the same as the girl in the barbed wire. She wasn’t pierced yet but all of her features had set. The camera looked down on her laying on the living room floor with a marker in her mouth. Her arms were held together behind her back by an armbinder and her legs were belted together at the ankles and just above and below the knees. She was slowly snaking her way to a piece of paper.

“Read it and choose carefully,” her sister’s voice said behind the camera. “You will not be able to revoke your signature.”

The girl was silent when she finished reading the contract. She made a barely perceptible jerking motion on the floor. It seemed a restrained attempt at friction against her crotch. She looked up at her sister with the marker sticking out of her mouth. “I think it should be official and final,” the voice of the sister said from behind the camera. “Otherwise we are no longer going to play games.”

The girl looked over the contract again and then signed it with her mouth. A, she signed it, and that was enough. After a pause that let sink in the signature’s severe, far-reaching finality, the girl snaked her way to her sister and leaned close against her sister’s legs with her head in her sister’s lap. Her sister ran her hands through the girl’s hair and finger-studied the girl’s face. The girl’s face took up the whole screen. The girl looked up and smiled. It was a perfectly happy smile, the pure joy of an excited dog, clean of the usual underlying complications. The girl pressed her face into her sister’s upper thigh and the lower part of her body began jerking. She was trying to rub her crotch against her sister’s lower leg.

“No, I can’t let you do that. I will no longer be leaving vibrators in you or anything of the sort. I won’t have you be so perverted. You are technically my sister and I will not practice incest. That kind of pleasure is for people like me and my fiance.”

The humping motion stopped and the girl looked up into the eyes above the camera. The girl’s face was frozen and vacant. Her stare was still as her movement learned that it lacked absolutely the first motion to make within circumstance entirely out of her influence, harsh and perfectly unwavering. When the entire futility dawned on her the girl looked back down and stared forward into the area of her sister’s stomach. Faintly beneath the surrender on her face were the first pangs of disappointment. The pangs had nowhere to go. The stillness continued. The vacancy of the girl’s face looked inhuman. The video cut to noise and the older sister shut it off.

The older woman was standing behind the camcorder. The red light was on. The recording had begun. The older sister was standing before the younger sister. “I’m pregnant,” the older sister said. “We’re finally having kids. Can’t have you eating out of your dog bowl with the kid around. And you’re certainly not going to go to anyone else. You were a good girl, know that. You were just like you were supposed to be.”


“Sssshh,” the older sister cut her off. “Be a good girl until the end.”

The younger sister didn’t say anything. It wasn’t clear whether it was obedience or she was nonplussed. The older sister didn’t leave time for it to clarify. Before the girl’s pause could conclude the older sister pushed the cart away.

The girl’s body dropped and bounced slightly and the guttural sounds were hardly audible above the quiet ringing of the bells. The girl’s face darkened with redness. The face didn’t have any way of moving apart from its synchrony with the movement of the rope. The only expression the girl could manage was through her eyes and their expression was too minimal to convey anything unambiguous. But the audience didn’t seem to be translating. The older sister looked cool, the man was smoking another cigarette and the older woman was focused on the camera.

The older sister pushed the girl lightly with her index finger on the inside of the girl’s breast. The swaying that resulted could be offset only a little by what amount the girl’s body managed to jerk. Lines of blood mixed with lines of tears. They collected and dropped from the bottom of the girl’s knees. The droplets left a dotted line of bloody tears underneath the girl’s swaying.

At the start of her hanging the girl’s eyes had continued to look at her sister. Eventually they dropped and began becoming blank. The allowed struggling weakened and finally the eyes set and became their final blankness, a blankness even more absolute than the default blankness that had set in over the years. The swaying stopped and it became clear there was nothing left. The body was a body. No one in the room noticed the usual profundity that real death demands. None of them seemed very affected. It was more like a good watch had finally stopped ticking. Now the watch had to be disposed of.


Categories SexStory2 Date 19/02/2011