CHAPTER VIII
"Yes, you are bad, aren't you," he said after rearing his face from her flesh
and looking down at his sister. His tone was strangely severe.
Before she could respond to what she thought was some flirtatious provocation,
he grabbed her arms, swirled her around and, violently shoved her onto his bed,
face-first. Staring at the sheets with a countenance of both shock and
wonderment, she let her body slowly slide down the edge of the bed until her
knees landed on the floor, leaving her, basically, kneeling over his bed.
Supported by her arms bent at the elbow, ending at her bound and folded hands,
she looked as though in prayer.
"What are you going to do to me," she whispered as she looked over her shoulder,
vaguely in his direction.
"Punish you." He raised the belt, hopefully so that she could see it.
"Oh."
Holding the belt in his right hand, he slowly and deliberately brought it back
over his left shoulder. He let it come down slightly upon her upper back. She
winced and threw her head back upon the sensation of the thick, black leather
upon her skin. He paused and repeated the action. Her reaction was far less
dramatic than the previous. He gently lashed her a third time... to no reaction
whatsoever.
"Are you going to whip me," she inquired with a sweet and innocent tone.
"I AM whipping you."
"No, not really."
"I don't think that would be very wise."
"Why not," she pitifully demanded in the voice of a disappointed child.
"Because...," he let out, flustered. "I don't know. There would be... Someone
could see something."
"Jake, no one sees my body. He hasn't seen my - Maybe at the pool... but I can
wear a -"
With a mighty slap of leather on flesh, she released a lustful cry, broken into
strange fragments by her physical contortions. Her head inadvertently having
been dramatically thrown back, she slowly lowered it upon her hands before her
as she panted wildly.
Her brother delivered another, then another, and yet another lash upon what skin
was exposed, each time attempting to contact some ounce of her soft, pink flesh
that had yet to be tormented by him. The room was ablaze with some dark,
forbidden and uncontrollable lust between the two of them - something neither
could explain, nor did they feel compelled to, now within the tumult. Each
wicked strike of the lash was some torrid kiss between them. The harnessed
expression of hours - if not a lifetime - of an overwhelming passion, desire and
lust between two who were forbidden to unite. Their union, hence, diverted and
taking the form of another dark and secret symbol of passion. A man and a woman
under extraordinarily strange circumstances.
