The basement lock clicked from the inside now. That had been her rule since he turned twenty-three and stopped pretending he didn’t want the collar on.
Maya kept the key on a chain between her tits. Long nipples. That was the first thing people noticed if she ever wore anything thin, which she almost never did in the house. Dark, stretched, sensitive enough that a clamp made her brother’s cock jump before she even touched him. She liked that. She liked that he watched her chest the way other men watched porn.
Eli was already on the mat when she came down. Naked. Big cock half-hard against his thigh from the wait. Wrist cuffs clipped to the ring in the floor. Ankle cuffs spread him. The fuck machine sat between his legs like a piece of gym equipment somebody had built for the wrong church.
“Look at me.”
He looked. Maya stripped the robe. No bra. Nipples already tight, long enough that when she pinched them they stood out like they were asking for his mouth. She didn’t give him his mouth yet.
“Slave.”
“Yes, sister.”
She stepped over him and sat on his face without warning. Cunt on his mouth, ass on his nose, thighs locking his head. “Tongue. Don’t you dare come.”
He licked. She rode his face slow, grinding her clit on his nose, smearing herself over him until his chin shone. Her nipples hung over his stomach. She reached down and slapped his cock when it twitched too hard.
“Machine first.”
She climbed off, spit on her fingers, pushed two into herself, then wiped that on the silicone cock mounted on the machine. Thick. Not as thick as him, which she liked to say out loud. She lined it up with his hole, clicked the speed to low, and watched it feed into her brother while he clenched and breathed through it.
The machine fucked him. Steady. Inhuman. Maya sat on a stool beside his hip and played with her own tits, pulling those long nipples, twisting, making him watch.
“That’s your hole, Eli. Sister’s hole to use. You don’t get to decide the pace.”
His cock leaked on his stomach. Big, heavy, neglected. She flicked the head. He moaned into the mat.
She turned the machine up.
When his thighs started to shake she shut it off with the cock still buried in him and swung a leg over his hips. She didn’t take him in her cunt yet. She sat on the shaft, trapped it between her lips, and slid, wetting him, nipples hanging in his face.
“Ask.”
“Please, sister. Please fuck your slave.”
She lifted and sank onto him in one drop. Tight. She was always tight when she made him wait. His cock stretched her and she laughed once, mean and fond, and started to ride.
Femdom with him wasn’t theater only. She set the rules and she used him. She slapped his face when he thrust up. She leaned forward and stuffed a long nipple into his mouth.
“Suck. Hard. That’s mine.”
He sucked like he’d been trained for it, because he had. Her other nipple she pinched herself until her cunt clenched on him. She came on his cock without letting him come, pulled off, slapped his wet shaft, and turned the machine back on.
“You stay full. Both ends later.”
She clipped nipple clamps on herself, chain swinging, then clipped a lighter pair on him so every jolt of the machine tugged. She sat on his face again while the machine reamed him. Ate her out. She ground down until she came on his tongue and told him to swallow.
The second hour she put him on his knees, cuffs moved to the bench. His big cock stood out, dark at the head, balls tight. Maya stood in front of him and fed him her cunt standing, one foot on the bench, then turned and made him rim her while she stroked him with a dry hand, not enough, never enough.
“Slaves don’t come from a hand. Slaves come when I say, inside me or on my tits or not at all.”
She bent over the bench, reached back, and guided him in. “Fuck your sister. Slow. You pull out if you get close.”
He fucked her. Big cock opening her, wet sounds, his breath on her spine. She looked back and told him he was a hole with a cock attached, her incest toy, her basement animal. When he got close she made him pull out and drop to his knees. She sat, spread, and put the machine behind him again so he was eating her while it fucked his ass.
She came twice like that.
Then she let him finish the way she liked on days she was cruel and generous at once: on her chest. She pushed her tits together, those long nipples pointing, and he stroked himself and painted her. White on brown-pink. She scooped it, smeared it over the nipples, and made him suck his own load off her sister-tits until they were clean.
“Good slave.”
She didn’t uncuff him for dinner. She ate upstairs, came back down in socks and nothing else, and sat on his cock again while she scrolled her phone, lazy, using him like furniture. Whenever he throbbed she pinched a nipple—hers or his—and told him to hold it.
Night she chained him to the bed upstairs because she wanted him in reach. Fuck machine stayed in the basement. She didn’t need it when she could swing a leg over his face at 2 a.m. and then sink onto that big cock and ride him half-asleep, whispering that he was hers, that brothers who stay are brothers who get used, that his only job was to stay hard and shut up and take it.
He stayed hard.
In the morning she put him on his back, sat on his cock facing away, and made him stare at the ceiling while she bounced. Clamps on her nipples, chain in his mouth. “Pull.” He pulled. She hissed and came and kept bouncing. She didn’t let him come until she was done using the aftershocks, then she pulled off, sat on his chest, and jerked him onto her stomach and nipples again and made him lick every drop.
That was a weekday.
Saturday she ran the machine for forty minutes on mid while she sat in a chair and read, one foot on his chest, occasionally reaching down to slap his cock. When she was wet enough she turned the machine off, left the dildo in him, and rode his face until her thighs shook. Then she pulled the toy out, replaced it with him, and fucked herself on her brother until the chair scraped the concrete.
She talked the whole time.
“Incest slave. That’s what you are. Not a boyfriend. Not a secret. A cock and a mouth and an ass I paid for with blood. Long nipples in your mouth because I said. Big cock in me because I said. Machine in you because I like watching you take something that doesn’t care if you cry.”
He didn’t cry. He begged. She liked that better.
Sunday she uncuffed his hands and put him to work: mouth on her tits for half an hour, sucking those long nipples until they were darker and wet, no cock for him. Then she bent him over the basement sink and used a smaller attachment on the machine just to watch his hole wink, then she stepped in and fucked him with a strap while she reached around and stroked that big neglected cock and told him he didn’t get to come until the strap came out and her cunt went on him.
Order held.
Strap out. Her on her back on the mat. Him on top because she allowed it, for once, with her hand on his throat. “Breed your sister. Now.”
He did. Deep. Shaking. She clenched and took it and then pushed him down and made him eat her clean, his own cum out of her, and then kiss her with it.
Collar stayed on when he slept.
Key stayed between her tits.
The machine stayed plugged in.
He was her brother.
He was her slave.
Those were the same sentence in that house.
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