His Sister’s Slave Ch. 01

tagIncest/TabooHis Sister's Slave Ch. 01

"You grew out of that shirt years ago Chris," Chris' mother Tessa sighed, pointing to his tight-fitting, faded Nirvana T-shirt, which now resembled a light shade of charcoal and a disappearing smiley face below a scuffed collar. Chris loved the shirt, and the band, he always would, and the memories he had formed around their music when he had first heard them. He had spent the last year working out on his dad's home gym in the garage, running five times a week, and eating anything he could get his mouth around, so his pectorals had swelled and his abs resembled the faintest outline of a six-pack. When he curled his arm in front of the body length mirror in his bathroom, he felt proud of his biceps and his bulking shoulders, but if he was honest with himself, he was most proud of the developing, coveted v-line that directed its path from the crest of his hips and angled down to disappear behind his low cut Levis'
"I know ma," he replied "But it's an hour's drive and it's hot and I'm comfortable," He scratched the back of his head, plumed with a straight black shock of shoulder length hair as he peered over his mother. He was over six feet two, the last time they checked, tall for an eighteen year old. A 'gentle giant', his mom had called him. He smiled at her, his dark small eyes smiling too. His mother studied his face briefly. She wasn't sure where he got his good looks from, because she considered herself kind of plain and Chris' dad, her husband, was short and bald with a burgeoning spread around his midsection and he wore small, round framed glasses on his tiny aquiline nose. Fat load of good that home-gym did him, she thought. And even though Chris was her son, she was proud of how good looking he was, and she smiled inwardly as he often turned the heads of the women in Shamrock, the town where they lived. His jaw was chiselled and square, his nose straight and thin and his bushy eyebrows kinked near the bridge of his nose whenever he frowned too hard. Like now. Like they did, when he was a boy.
"The bus is going to be arriving in just over an hour, we best get a move on," Chris' Dad Eric announced, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. He was forty-five but an old forty-five, Chris thought. He always wore proper nylon trousers and he possessed a variety of checked shirts, ever since Chris could remember, this was how his Dad dressed. Kind of nerdy, but then, he was an accountant, Chris reasoned.
They were off to pick up Sadie, Chris' sister, who was home from college, for the first time in nine months. Her college was far, about four hours away and even though Eric and Tessa had made a couple of trips to visit her now and then, she was quite happy to stay at college and "adjust to the college life" as she put it. Chris didn't blame her. She'd spent the last nineteen years in Shamrock, which had a population just shy of twelve thousand, middle aged to geriatric residents. It was a small, backward town. It had a single Cinema and a strip mall, with only the essential shops, a hardware, and then various arts and crafts shops for the elderly housewives to display their talents, and a dusty country pub for their husbands. "It was a stereotypical roadblock on one's life journey to the great escape and life beyond," Chris had once reminded a classmate. Their was a single school in the vicinity from first grade to the end of high school, occupied with a few kids from the town, but mostly by the kids of the nearby farmers. They lived on the edge of town, in a middle class suburb, in a three bedroom house. Eric had relocated his outside office to Sadie's old bedroom, after she had moved out and Chris turned the the outside office into his cottage. The extra bedroom inside the house fitted the purpose of a guest room, or Sadie's room, "when she came home for weekends, from college," their mom insisted. That never happened. Now she had to come home, for at least three months, for the summer break.
"So," began Chris' mom turning around in her seat to face him as they cruised along the freeway. "Dad and I were talking, and we decided that your sister should have the cottage while she's here, and you can stay in the guest room. She's older and independent and needs her privacy and you know, we think it's the right thing to do,"
Chris' heart sank. "Ah, come on Mom, Dad, that is so unfair. It's not my fault she went off to college. That's my space, I have all my things in there, not to mention that it doubles up as my studio."
"Well, just take out the things you need, Chris. You won't need to move the bed and furniture, and there is a TV in the guest room and a new bathroom."
Chris pushed himself into the corner of the backseat and door upholstery. He felt agitated. He loved the freedom he experienced in the cottage. He could walk around naked, which he did, and watch porn and fall asleep afterwards without having to worry about being interrupted. Lately he had got into drawing hentai. He had found his mom's old easel easel in the attic, which he propped up in front of the window where he spent hours relaxing and drawing. At first he copied the artworks from pictures he had found on-line, but lately he started creating his own scenarios. He had also developed a fetish for bondage and practised drawing his subjects, bound and exposed with thick, veiny and reddened cocks, thrust into their salivating mouths. He got so turned on that he found it difficult to continue drawing and had to relieve himself from time to time. Now, he was forced to give this all up for his eldest sister, who's existence, he hardly cared much about.
They arrived at the station as Sadie's bus was pulling in. The door opened and the passengers filed out one at a time, shading their eyes with their hands against the sun so that they could spot their rides. Some waited at the the luggage compartment with their suitcases besides them. Chris had his head bowed and gazed into his phone, still studying a drawing technique that he was trying to master. He heard his parents open their doors and his mom call out for him to get out to greet his sister. He got out and leaned against the rear door of the car and saw a girl approaching them. He didn't recognise Sadie at first. She seemed taller than he remembered, she had also dyed her dark hair blonde with purple streaks, and her dress code looked somewhere between goth and nineteen eighties Madonna. She trudged along in black Doc Martens, which came up mid calf, into which she had tucked a pair of black tights, and an over-sized Ramones T-Shirt hung carelessly from one shoulder. Her facial features hadn't changed at all, except for the fact that she wore a heavy layer of black lipstick and pale foundation and the piercings in her bottom lip and nose glistened as they caught the sun. From behind her she wheeled her carry-on luggage which bounced along the rough tarmac accompanying the droning purr of the rubber wheels. She kissed Tessa, hugged her father and brought her carry-on to a halt directly in front of Chris and without looking at him, got into the car and sat where he had been sitting.
Irritated, he opened the hatch of the station-waggon, and tossed her bag into the rear of the vehicle. Tessa scowled at him and Sadie rebuked him saying that she might have had something breakable in her luggage. Chris just grunted as he closed his door, and took out his phone.
"How was the bus trip?' Tessa asked.
"Fine," Sadie answered. She picked at her sleeve and stared out the window.
"Well, we're so glad you're back, we missed you awfully," Tessa smiled warmly at Sadie, who was still looking out the window.
"Speak for yourselves," Chris said under his breath.
"What was that, Chris?" asked Tessa
"Nothing," said Chris. He looked down at his phone, his black locks enveloping the sides of his narrow face.
"You two will have to learn to get on with each-other for the next three months. Dad and I will be at work most of the time and the responsibility of the house will be up to you two, chores included. So whatever this is," she pointed to Chris and then to Sadie, "ends right this instant. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yeah mom," they replied in unison.
"One more thing Sadie, Chris has offered you the use of the cottage, he will move into the guest room. Isn't that nice of Chris?" Tessa smiled at her and then at Chris.
Chris knew that his mother was trying to make him appear generous toward his sister so they could get along better. They had always fought. Even as small kids. They both took after their mother in her self assured and assertive manner, bordering on stubbornness. Tessa had used this sibling method to try broker peace between Sadie and Chris ever since he could remember. He played along with it because it was better than arguing with Sadie and sometimes it allowed him to get his own way.
Chris turned his gaze to Sadie, who bumped the side of her fist against her thigh in triumph and looked out the window, not a word of thanks to Chris. She also knew her mom's game.
The remainder of the trip back home was filled with small talk that Tessa attempted to produce with Sadie. Once they arrived home Chris, begrudgingly removed Sadie's case from the station-wagon and slowly and deliberately, carefully, set it aside in the foyer. Sadie walked in behind him, peering down at her phone while her thumb moved across the screen. She ignored him and sat down on the couch. Chris disappeared through the kitchen and out the back door to his flat to pack up the things he needed for his stay in the guest room. He had a sick gnawing feeling that his private place had been invaded, the place where he could express himself and continue to develop his artistic persona. He recalled how he would jerk himself off on the bed and edge for hours if he wanted to. Guess I won't be doing that anymore, for the next couple of months. He gathered up his easel, his sketch paper, his art bag and duffel bag, into which he stuffed some personal items and clothing, and manoeuvred his way into the house, up the stairs and through the guest room door. He set down the easel, dropped his duffel bag and collapsed on the three quarter bed. He drew in a deep breath as he contemplated his new surroundings. Since he had moved out of this room a year ago. It had been painted a light yellow. A shower and toilet had been added to the portion of the room next door, his sister's old room, and accessible via a door set in the wall between. The rest of the room was utilised as his Dad's study. though what he studied, Chris had no idea. Opposite the shower and toilet was a walk in closet, to allow for more space in the guest room. Contrary to his expectations of this temporary relocation, he found the room to be somewhat cosy and comfortable. Much neater than his cottage and better smelling too. He suddenly remembered that he had about four days worth of sweaty running apparel ripening in the laundry hamper in his cottage bathroom. Enjoy a whiff of that big sis. He grinned devilishly to himself.
He had just finished setting up his easel and arranging his art supplies when he heard Tessa, from downstairs, calling him to lunch. He made his way down to the dining room and saw as his mother was placing a pitcher of orange squash down near the centre of the table as Sadie pulled a chair out to sit. He was surprised to see the spread his mother had prepared in such a short time. There were cold meats, salads, bread rolls, an assortment of miniature pies and pickles, crackers and cheese, flapjacks and cream and a variety of fresh juices. On the sideboard Chris noticed an elaborate looking Carrot cake, Sadie's favourite, and a big round chocolate cake. Chris felt like an agitated left out little brother again. He pulled out a chair and set himself heavily down in it. He propped his chin on to his knuckles supported by his elbows, angled on the the dining room table.
"Elbows off the table," commanded Eric.
Chris reluctantly obeyed.
During lunch the conversation began and continued with life at college for Sadie. She looked more relaxed now and lapped up the attention. When Chris asked for the fruit cocktail juice which was down at her end, she passed it along to him without so much as looking his way.
"So how do you find res, Sadie?" Tessa asked.
"It's great actually. I've got my little cluster of friends and we study together and hang out on the weekends.
"What are your lecturers like?" Eric asked.
"They're OK. Some are so old and boring," she rolled her eyes, "but we also have some younger lecturers who make class fun."
'Yeah I bet they do,' Chris thought to himself whilst visualising his sister and friends giving favours for marks. He smirked to himself.
"What's so funny Chris?" asked Tessa.
'Umm, nothing," he shrugged. "Just find it funny that lecturers could actually make class fun,. That's all."
She cast a annoyed look in Chris' direction.
"Well, you wouldn't know, because you're not there, and probably won't ever be." She said.
Chris bowed his head and stared into his China plate.
"OK you two, settle down," said Eric. "Do you have a favourite major?"
"Yeah Dad. I like Psychology and sociology." She smiled. "I'm thinking of doing an internship at the social welfare office once I finish, just to get some experience and a lay of the field."
"That's so awesome/amazing Sadie." Tessa and Eric said at the together.
They continued with lunch until they shared the cake out and washed it all down with coffee and more fruit juice.
"Chris, will you clear the table, we just want to see how your sister is settling in and whether she needs anything.?"
"I guess," he said, skewing his face into a scowl.
'I knew this would happen,' he said to himself. 'She gets treated like royalty and I'm just the servant. And as for her fake niceties with Mom and Dad.
He spent the remainder of his day in his new room and only came down once before bedtime to make hot chocolate. Just before settling down for the night, he looked out of his window at the cottage he had left behind. The lights were still on and he could make out Sadie's silhouette moving about.

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