Cum Filled Panties Ch. 2
I spent Saturday, and much of Sunday moping. I really could not believe
what my sister had made me do. I couldn't believe that I had done it without
objection. My sister noticed my depression, and on Sunday told me to do things.
Mostly just clean dishes and such. It didn't cheer me, I don't think she
expected it to. I didn't object, we both knew what she would say if I did, and I
was too humiliated to face it. When I finished my chores, I hid in my room.
In the evening, after dinner, she came to my room through the bathroom.
She didn't knock. I couldn't find the will to be affronted. She threw an old
training bra at me and told me to put it and my panties on. "Why?" I finally
found the strenght to say it. "You already got what you wanted."
"Because I told you to. Just put on the bra and panties and wait for me,
I'll be back." She left before I could muster a response.
By the time she got back I still had the bra and panties in my hand; I
was trying to build some strength to resist her. "Why haven't you done as you
were told?" she demanded.
"Why should I?" I wavered, "I don't want to do this. I hate this."
Her hand came up with the camera, she now had a picture of me holding
the underwear. "You know why you are doing this. Don't worry about why I'm doing
it. Just do as I tell you, and no one else needs to know about it. If you do
well, I might even let you keep the bra." She acted like it was a treat, part of
me saw it as one. She went to her room. I thought of running, maybe if I wasn't
in my room she would forget about it. I didn't think she would. She still had
the pictures. She would haunt me with them. I swallowed.
I did as I was told.
I was sitting on the bed, shivering at the thought of being confronted
by my sister in nothing but panties and a bra. She seemed comfortable with it
when she returned. I was nervous again. She held rope. She told me to lie down.
"What are you doing?" I asked again, but all she did was grasp my arm
and bind it firmly. I pulled away, but she firmly held me. I hung my head, and
saw the bra, It was too late to resist. I started breathing heavily. Despite
this being my sister, the thought of what was being done to me turned me on. My
face flushed. She tied my wrist to the corner of the headboard. She did the same
to my other arm. I noticed the quality of her ties, I shouldn't have been
surprised, she had been a girlscout.
When she started binding my ankle, she decided to answer me. "I'm trying
to make you realise that you really do enjoy this." My dick twitched the cotton
panties. Sarah was looking right at it. She smirked at me.
When she finished, I was spread and helpless, the ties had been deftly
placed out of reach of my fingers. Sarah left me for the moment and I explored
the ropes as much as I could, it got me nowhere. She returned with two things.
In her hands was the camera which she used to take several pictures of
me. She also had in her hand a vibrator. I'd never seen it before, but then I
never paid much attention to anything but the underwear drawer. The vibrator was
nothing but a white shaft about a hand length long.
Once she'd stopped taking pictures, she put the camera aside, and
brought the dildo close. She methodically reached for my penis. Shocked, I tried
to avoid her grasp, but the ropes held firm, and soon my dick was in her hands.
It responded to her touch. She looked like she was cutting chicken.
"Please stop this." I begged. She ignored me. The feel of her hand
brought me fully erect. Again I felt wrong, my body didn't. She taped the dildo
to my cock. It felt strange as she turned it on. If I wasn't so upset I might
have enjoyed it. As such, my sister watched as my dick tried to grow even more.
To be honest, I had never been so hard in my life.
Sarah bent low over me, and kissed my forhead. "Be a good girl, my
little cocksucker. I'll see you in the morning. Try not to make too much noise."
She got up and turned out the light. She closed the door and left me.
I called to her several times, but she ignored me. It would be twelve
hours before She would take me to school. I tried to relax. The vibration
wouldn't let me be. Before long I was close to orgasm, but unable close the gap.
I needed to touch myself. I called to Sarah again. It wouldn't be the last time.
She never came. I never came. Suspended as I was on my bed, over the
brink. I never could let go. All night I was held there, and I felt every
minute.
When morning light finally showed, I felt relief flood through me.
Still, she took her time. I heard her alarm go off several time before she
stirred. I heard her in the bathroom. I called to her again, but still she
didn't listen. I almost thought she'd leave me.
When she finally came to my room, fully dressed in jeans and a sweater,
she stood over me watching thoughtfully. "Are you enjoying yourself?" She asked.
"Please let me go" I begged her again. She knelt close to my dick, she
gave a gentle breath to it. My eyes almost rolled back into my head. If she
would just let me go.
"Tell me how much you like this." she commanded softly.
I realised in that moment that she was right, I like this. I realised
that I didn't want to be released so I could be free, I wanted to come. I wanted
nothing more than to jerk myself into oblivion. "I need this." I admitted, "I
need to come. Please Sarah, just let me go." She still waited for something,
expected me to say something. "I love this." I finally answered.
It was true, I did love this. It had even been one of my fantasies,
though never with my sister. But I also hated it. I hated the humiliation I now
felt. I hated the helplessness as much as I loved it. I hated not being able to
come when I needed it so much. And hating it, made me want it that much more. I
hated myself for being such a disgusting creature. I hated that my sister
inspired such a sexual desire in me. I didn't want her. But what she was doing
made me want her. I loved that she was playing with me. I hated that too.
Sarah turned off the vibrator, carefully, so as not to set me off. She
again kissed my forhead, "Good girl." She said. She unbound my arms and legs.
She then told me to get dressed, "We have to go to school. Wear the bra and
panties. You have done well, but you still have to earn the bra. No jerking
off."
I needed to come, and she wouldn't let me. I almost ignored her, but I
still felt humiliated at the idea of jerking off in front of her. She waited
right there as I dressed. You could see the outline of the training bra through
my clothes, so I put on a heavy sweater to cover it.
Sarah drove me to school.
Today of all days was the worst to be in 6th period spanish class. The
teacher for that class was Ms. Stanley, she was 24, and hot. She wore her hair
short, and loved to wear tight clothes. She was wearing a close fitting dress
today. You could see the outline of the thong come out of her ass. In my present
state, it made things difficult. I had a constant hard-on all day. This just
made things worse. When I wasn't looking at the teacher, Jessica Ming sat in
front of me. When she sat forward, her thin sweater pulled up so I could see the
small of her back. I could see her panties poking out above her jeans, white
cotton with a dark blue star pattern. What were the odds? There was another girl
wearing a short skirt that I could furtivley look right up. Pink. Truly fate had
it in for me.
By the time my sister picked me up, at the end of the day, my nerves had
frayed to breaking. Sarah didn't help when she said, "From now on when you wear
girls clothes I will call you Michelle. Understand?" I nodded. Even this was
turning me on. I was going nuts. "Looks like you had fun, Michelle." My pants
had tented. "Did you have a good day?"
"Fine." I replied dumbly.
"Good." She said as she got onto the highway. "Take off your pants." I
looked at her horrified. "Relax, Michelle, no one will see you." I started to
dislike that name. "Or would you rather I punished you?" She threatened me with
those words, but I started to doubt if she would actually show the pictures to
anyone. I was too much on edge. I hadn't slept, I was harder than chinese
algebra. I hadn't had a coherent thought all day. I did as a I was told.
I removed my pants and sat there hard as a rock in a pair of panties.
"Enjoying this are you? How much do you like wearing panties?" she asked slyly.
My face was red again. I tried to melt into the seat. "I love it." I
replied, I looked out the window, not seeing anything. Not feeling anything.
"How much do you like me telling you what to do?"
Again I kept my face looking out, "I love it, Sarah." I cringed inside.
I felt disgusting. Why did she want to keep this sort of thing going? Why did
she seem to enjoy humiliating me? A flagpole stretched the cotton.
"Look at me." She ordered. I turned. "How much do you love me telling
you what to do? And call me Mistress." Excitement flushed through me.
Humiliation as well. I looked her in the eye, her gaze held me. I wanted to look
down.
"More than anything." I replied. The lump was in my throat again. This
was too much. I turned away, my vision blurred. It was a disgusting truth. I
held it together. We sat in silence the rest of the trip home.
When we pulled into the driveway she told me to take off my shirt.
Again, excitement thrilled through me against my will. I wanted this I tried not
to realise. I was too terrified to resist. I did as I was told. Once I was
wearing nothing but the bra and panties she told me to get the mail.
I pleaded with her silently once more. Somewhere between now and last
night, I lost my ability to say no to her, to even put up a meager resistance. I
just hoped she would change her mind.
She didn't. I slowly stepped out of the car. The cold driveway curdled
my feet. I took long deliberate steps. I only saw my goal.
The mail box is at the end of our driveway. The neigbors can't see our
house or into the back yard, or even to the mailbox, but cars do pass
frequently. I was panicked as I marched; I was shaking. Behind me I heard the
car pull into the garage, the door came down. Suddeny, I was alone out there,
staring at the garage. Tears welled up, but I kept them in check.
A car passed quickly in the road. It was a bare instant, and was gone by
the time I turned. I bolted to the mailbox and fetched the mail. Once in hand I
flew to the front door. It was still locked. I pounded frantically while ringing
the doorbell. I could feel Sarah waiting behind the door. Finally I heard the
lock click, the door opened.
Sarah looked back at me, took the mail from my hands. I tried to pass
her. "Stop." she commanded. The hand on my chest, between the breasts of the
bra, pushed me back from the door. My cock pointed right at her. I looked at her
bewildered. I begged with my body, hoping she would relent. "You want to come
in?" I nodded. "Go around to the back door." She said, then slammed the door in
my face. I heard the lock click again. Another car passed.
I darted at the gate to the backyard. I was getting cold by the time I
made it to the door. It was also locked. I couldn't understand how Sarah could
be so cruel to her brother. I sat on the stoop before the door. The thin cotton
panties were no insulation to the cold stone. I was crying again, looking down
on my still hard penis.
A man doesn't cry. I hadn't cried in years. Now I was bawling. What kind
of man wears women's underwear? What kind of man sits outside his house and
cries? I was sobbing now, all the emotions came from me in that iover of tears.
What kind of man gets turned on by his sister?
I am not a man. I am a disgusting creature. A pervert. A transvestite. A
worthless animal. I should live in the yard like an animal, chained to a peg in
the ground. My dick would not go down. I sobbed these thoughts to it; raining my
self loathing onto the tower of my humiliation.
"Are you okay Michelle?" I hadn't heard the door open. I sat there
letting the tears run, not daring myself to respond. Sarah sat next to me. She
hugged me. I had no strength left in me. I sagged against her; I sobbed into her
sweater.
"Why am I so disgusting? Why do I like this so much? Why can't I be a
good, normal person? Why am I such a disgusting thing?" I sobbed. I don't know
why I sought comfort from her, she had been the one to instigate this. This was
her fault. I should be yelling at her, screaming, telling her how fucked up she
is.
She was too soft, too warm. Her arm around me was a blessing. I sought
no comfort from her, but she still gave it. She hurt me so much, but she had
been right the whole time. She knew what needed to be done, she always had.
"I don't know why you are so disgusting, Michelle. But as long as you do
what I tell you, as long as you stay with me, I will make sure that no one else
knows." Michelle. Thats my name, my dirty disgusting name. I was born Michael
Caring, but I couldn't think of myself with that name. Michelle was much more
fitting. Sarah thought so too.
"You are a good girl, Michelle. You get to keep the bra." Why that made
me happy I have no idea. I laughed at the absurdity of it. "You're a big girl
now." She was right. I sat up, not proudly, never proud. Cheerful. I felt like a
little sister. "How about we get you a nice dress to wear."
We went inside.
