im Now a Funcle

mum called out, "Your sister'll be round shortly, she wants to use my sewing machine to adjust a dress for a ball that they're going to, so please try and be nice to her for once."

"Fucking wonderful," I muttered to myself.

"I heard that David." She hadn't of course, but knew that I'd say something along those lines. My sister was only two years older than I, but she and I weren't close any more, and hadn't been for some years now.

"Bye love," my mother called through the kitchen window, she was laughing as she spoke. "Bye Ma," I called back as she walked towards the car. I heard my Dad say something, then Mum relayed it, "Your Dad says goodbye."

"Bye," I yelled, hopefully loud enough for him to hear. Seconds later they drove away to his mothers' house for the weekend, leaving me in peace. Mostly I was required to go with them to Grandmas' whenever they went, but this time I seemed to have dodged the bullet.

Almost instantly they were out of my mind, and I went back to sharpening my new hunting knife. When I say new, it wasn't new, new, it was my Dad's old knife but was still a good one, a Diamond Blade Pinnacle Skinner. I'd lost mine on a hunting trip last week, it'd been just an inexpensive starter knife, the brand of which I'd long ago forgotten as the badges had fallen off. I thought that I must've dropped it on the trail somewhere, but didn't realise it'd gone missing until we'd got home. After I'd pulled everything apart and there was still no trace of it, Dad then reached into his bag and gave me his.

I choked with emotion as I knew how long he'd had it, and it'd been a present from his Dad. When I hugged him, and said thanks, he shrugged and said, "I just want an excuse to buy a new one, what you need to know about the Pinnacle is that once you get it sharp, it stays sharp for ages, but once it loses its edge, it takes a lot of work to get it back, and as that one's pretty blunt, you'll have some work to do on it."

I didn't care, I'd decided to try to save the money to buy my own, but as they go for around $400 progress was very slow. They're handmade and the very best that you can get, but $400 takes a bit of saving at my age. So, since he'd given it to me, I'd spent almost every spare moment using a stone to bring up the edge, and if I was to be honest, it was as sharp as it would ever get, but still I worked on it.

Just this morning I'd cut a sheet of paper that I'd held up in the air, and then shaved some hair from my forearm, but still I needed to give it one last rub. I was so engrossed in my knife that I failed to hear a car pull into the drive, and only realised it when my sister Carol walked in from the patio.

"Dork," her normal greeting to me.

"Bitch," I spat back, again normal, I'd forgotten that she was coming, and would have hoped to have been left in my own space.

She and I weren't close now, but had been earlier, when due to financial circumstances we'd shared a bed, top 'n tail, until she was about ten, and I was eight or so, when our parents decided it would be better if I had my own mattress. It was on the floor of the same room, and nothing at all changed for a while, the mattress was just ignored. Then something happened which caused Carol to make the decision that I should now use it, I worked out later that she was, 'a woman,' now. It wasn't long after that, that we were able to move into a bigger house and I'd got my own bedroom, I was pleased about that, but did miss crawling into bed with her, I guess I got over it ok though.

As we'd got older Carol could always get me to do what she wanted, mostly because even though I'd nothing much that she wanted from me. She had something that I was vitally interested in...tits, which by the time she'd got to be eighteen were large and very firm. She'd let me play with them from time to time, but only when she said so, which was of course only when she wanted something from me.

Most of my mates thought that I was crazy because I'd washed her car almost every week. One time I washed it before she'd even asked me to, hoping to obligate her into letting me play with them, but of course she'd said no as I'd already washed it, and now I'd got nothing to bargain with her over.

There's a lesson somewhere in that for all of us.

We hadn't seen a lot of Carol for the last couple of years after she'd married Eric. I'd tried to hate him, especially when I thought about him having exclusive access to her body, but as he really was a good guy and went out of his way to become a part of our family, it was hard not to like him. 

Carol'd changed a lot after she'd got married, she'd always been a know all bitch but now she was even worse. She never missing an opportunity to give me the benefit of her knowledge on just about every subject up for discussion, and to be frank I was getting a bit sick of it all, especially as now that she was married, her tits were totally of limits. Just sometimes all that I wanted to do was punch her in the mouth, and that's why I wasn't too pleased to see her today.

"What brings you here anyway, you're a long way from home, bitch?"

"I want to try on Mums' red evening gown, we're going to a ball in two weeks, and if it fits ok it'll save me buying one, or adjusting an old one of mine. I hope that you're not still wearing Mums' clothes when you're here alone, because if you are it'll have stretched, and be too big for me." I clenched my teeth with anger as I recalled the night that she'd come home early and caught me wearing one of Mums' skirts and a blouse, luckily Carol didn't find out that I was wearing her underwear. 

Carol was such a total bitch, and as this was of course was right up her alley, she'd used it to get me to do all sorts of stuff for her, just to ensure that nothing was said about it to anyone. 

This went on for months and months, making my life a total misery. Eventually however, I grew some balls and told her go and get stuffed, and that if she said anything I'd deny it, and that I'd already made something up about her to tell them. She'd had a good run out of it, and it took a while for her to realise that the fun times had ended, but eventually she had to let it go and never mentioned it much after that. It was only on the odd occasion when she wanted to wind me up that she started on it, and when she did, I got embarrassed and then angry, and now I was embarrassed and starting to get very angry.

I just so wanted to punch her in the mouth right now. "Fuck you." I was really pissed.

"Wouldn't you like to?" She stood in front of me, legs apart, tits thrust out towards me. I said nothing, just sitting there realising all over again why I hated her so.

Having had her little stir of the pot, she seemed quite content with herself and came over smiling towards me. "Anyway, whatcha doin' Dork?"

I held up the knife and stone, "What the fuck does it look like you idiot?" There was a sharp edge to my voice, which I don't think impacted on her as she moved closer and looked at the knife.

"Oh, your new knife, it's Dads' old one isn't it, how long is it anyway?"

"Ten inches," I said guessing, and then instantly regretted it, as I knew where this was now heading.

"Wow little brother that's the first time ever that you've had ten inches of anything in your hand," she said in her best bitch voice, emphasizing the word, 'little'.

The next instant was just a blur as I leapt from the chair and went towards Carol with the knife in my hand. She saw the knife and perhaps also something in my eyes as she backed away quickly. I followed her, eventually corralling her in a corner of the kitchen where two benchtops meet. 

There was fear in her eyes now, "Bro...David...FUCK..." her voice became shrill and then trailed off as I put the back of the knife to her throat. I was pissed at her, but not enough to use the sharp edge. I only wanted to scare the shit out of her and get her to shut up, I didn't want to hurt her, but I guess it was just all the years of taking her shit that I wanted to end, and I of course couldn't punch her in the mouth, much as I wanted to.

"David!!" she said sharply, but the words were cut off as I put more pressure on the knife, forcing her to lean further back over the benchtop. As she did it caused her hips to thrust forward, and as I was pushing against her, it brought a new and different reality to the situation. One where if it worked out ok for me, I might get my hands on her tits, maybe for the last time ever, but it was worth a try.

"Fuck you David, stop it this instant, that knife looks really sharp, you'd better not cut me or you'll be in big trouble." Her voice was rising as she spoke, so that by the end she was almost screaming in fear, and the whites of her eyes were very prominent. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd wet herself right there and then.

The main point though was that I was just tired of her always being in control, and taking the advantage. I knew that she liked to have her breasts touched, as she'd told me so when she first let me play with them. But this crap about only when she said it's ok, pissed me off big time. Now of course she was married and the chance didn't come along very often, it had in fact been years since the last time, and I had to content myself with just looking, wishing, and remembering.

Apart from my being the one now in control, I was also enjoying having our hips jammed together. I of course was aware of it, but I think that she was too preoccupied with the knife and the danger that she was in to realise it.

"David, my back...it's hurting my back like this." She sounded in pain.

I moved slightly, and to take the pressure away from her back she put her elbows onto the benchtop, this caused her breasts and nipples to become even more prominently on show. She caught me looking at them but said nothing, she'd no idea where this was going, and to be honest neither had I. When I'd got out of the chair, my aim was to shut her up, but now this was into uncharted territory.

With her eyes welded warily onto the knife she said in a shaking and not very assertive voice, "All right David you've had your fun, you've frightened me, you've made whatever point it is that you've wanted to make, now just stop this nonsense and let me up." I was having none of that, this moment had been a long time coming, and I wasn't going to let go of it any time soon, but I was going to make her sweat for a while longer yet. 

So, taking the knife from her throat I ran it down the swell of her right breast, making sure to always have the back of it against her dress, her eyes got wider as she felt the blade stop at her nipple. "No David, stop this right now, it was just a bit of fun, I didn't mean to make you angry, if it'll help...you can touch my breasts like you used to, is that what you want?" 

I saw this for what it was, my sister trying to get back a measure of control of the situation. At this point I was definitely going to be playing with her breasts anyway, and as I sure didn't need her permission, I just ignored what she'd said.

To be honest I hadn't thought about it too far ahead, I'd no idea what it was that I really wanted from her, but the thought occurred to me that if she was prepared to let me play with her tits, without my even asking, what else was she prepared to allow happen? At least her tits were a good place to start, and then we'd see where that would lead us to, and so for the first time since she'd got married, I put my left hand softly onto her breast and gently stroked it. My fingers eventually found the hardness that was her nipple, her eyes told me that despite her fears she was in serious danger of liking it. Or maybe the fear element was helping, people can be a bit strange where sex and its various deviations are concerned. 

Pushing my hips into hers might have helped that effect on her as well. Unfortunately, it also was influencing me and so out of her sight I had to, 'rearrange the furniture,' and then went back to pressing myself between her legs. 

Sensing that the combination of the knife, pulling on her nipple, and grinding myself into her, was aiding my control over her for the first time ever. I pulled back and very deliberately moved the knife down to the first button of her dress, paused for a moment for effect...then cut it off. Her eyes opened as wide as saucers. "Fuck you David, this's almost a new dre..." her voice trailed off as the knife moved back to her throat; she had that fear in her again.

Having gained her silence, the knife was moved down again until it reached the second button, which was dispatched in the same way as the first. Carol moved as if to say something, and then thinking better of it backed down. The third button, the fourth, and then the fifth, all followed the first two.

This brought me to the next button which was right over her groin, I didn't use the knife for this one, but instead moved it back to her throat, and then used my fingers to undo it...and carefully made sure that as often as possible my fingers slipped between her thigh gap. I dragged this out as long as possible, so that eventually I was just rubbing between her legs, the button having long ago been undone.

"David, stop that, I don't mind you touching my breasts, but touching me there is just not on," she sounded angry, and it appeared that her anger had overcome the fear that was in her, as this wasn't how she was used to being treated. Normally she was the one who made the decisions but not now, and her eyes showed she wasn't happy about it at all, but with the knife against her throat, her options were restricted

Several times she moved as if to get me to stop, but the knife held her in check, she didn't know that it was the back of the blade and that she wasn't in any real danger. But when a man has a knife at your throat, even if it is your own brother, in today's world you can't put too much time into trying to work out exactly how crazy he is, can you?

Being as I was enjoying touching Carol so much, I decided to undo the last button by hand also, after which I slid my hand between her legs, along the silky-smooth skin of her thigh until it was once again resting hard up against her crotch. The underwear that she was wearing was just what I would have expected of her, being a very sexy satin triangle of not very much at all.

Carol shook her head and said, "Please no, please don't do that again." As she didn't sound very convincing at all, I ignored her, and continued to massage her groin by running my index finger all the way from the front, to the back of her lips. It occurred to me that those very same lips were now much softer and warmer than they'd been before.

Just saying like.

Again, I ran the knife slowly across her breast and down to her nipple, which was as hard as a rock. I repeated the move four more times, and each time her eyes went wide as she thought that I was going to cut it off. Then with a look of real pain on her face, she said, "David, please, my back is still hurting me bent backwards like this."

I didn't want to move as I was quite enjoying pressing my hips against hers, Actually I wasn't pressing my hips against hers, I was pressing my erection against her mound, and I wondered if in fact this was what was causing her to want to move.

Again she said, "Please David, it's uncomfortable and I'm starting to get a cramp." 

I nodded my understanding and reaching down with my left hand, grabbed her right leg, and with the knife still against her nipple, raised her leg for her to lie on the benchtop. I was still between her legs, with her left foot now well off the floor. 

This was more comfortable for her than before, but of course she was now far more open and vulnerable, and I could see from her eyes that she was aware of her position, it also probably added to the fear in her. Disappointingly she didn't even thank me for moving her leg, even though she was now able to lie back and relax.

I moved the back of the knife again to her throat, and her eyes filled with fear. "Please David don't hurt me, you're starting to frighten me now." 

"Good," said the bad fairy inside my head.

Me? well I just smiled. I liked the thought of my sister being frightened, so to enhance that state I returned to running the blade across her nipple. It worked, she started to shake, she was seriously trembling and the effect that this had on her breasts was interesting to say the least, they were like large plates of jelly.

I then used the knife to slowly move first the right side of her dress from her breast, and then moved the left side away too, at which time I paused to admire the view. They were a magnificent 36C, I knew this from the many times that she'd told me so. Ok so from time to time I'd borrowed her underwear if you must know, what's so strange about that? I could have used Mums', but I'm not that sick, some are, but not me.

Several times I ran the back of the knife across her breast, pausing as it reached the nipple, before running it down the other side, I was enjoying this a lot, probably because she wasn't. But soon, I couldn't control myself any longer. I just had to see her naked breasts, so I put the knife between them under her bra, and with a quick upwards movement sliced clean through the fabric connecting the two cups. 

Carol yelped, "That's a new bra, I only bought it last week, fuck you David."

I looked at her without speaking, and then slowly brought the knife to touch the inside of her left breast, and then almost with reverence using the point, unveiled first one breast, and then the other. I caught my breath in wonder, all thoughts of my anger or the knife, or anything else went out of the window.

"God they're beautiful," was all that I could bring myself to say.

"You can touch them if you'd like David." She had a very false smile on her face.

This was the bitch that I knew all too well, what she was doing was to again try to take back control of the situation. She knew damn well that I was going to touch them, and with a knife at her throat I didn't need her permission to do so. 

She gave me a nervous smile as my hand reached out and again with reverence, caressed first one breast, and then the other, and then as I caught her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and pulled, the smile was replaced by a more haunted look in her eyes. As I pinched it again her breathing became ragged, she was also biting her bottom lip nervously.

For my part, I was in seventh heaven. How long had it been, two years, two and a half, maybe three, or was it even more? Whatever, it had been too long, and I was going to enjoy it accordingly.

It was obvious to both of us that her attempt to take back control had totally failed, and I was beginning to realise that as she was almost naked now, with the only thing still covering her that small triangle of satin, her chances of changing that were not great.

I, still in awe of her breasts continued to worship them openly, running my hands all over them in admiration, if anything I thought that they may be even bigger and firmer than before. 

Continuing to hold the back of the knife against her throat, I leant forward and took her nipple into my mouth sucking on it softly. Without lifting my head, I raised my eyes and saw that she'd pushed her head back onto the benchtop, and had her mouth wide open as the sensations from her nipple being sucked spread throughout her body.

Her eyes were closed, but opened again as I used my hand to push her leg on the benchtop further away from me, spreading her wider. Then taking the knife from her throat, I moved it all the way down until the blade was just lightly touching the satin triangle, and then very slowly, and very, very, carefully ran it up and then down what I hoped was the absolute dead center, where I thought that her slit should be located.

the knife didn't cut the satin all the way through, but breached the fabric enough for me to see that my aim was good, and also that I hadn't cut her. So, with some help from a finger to assist the knife, the opening was completed, and the finger pushed through, to be greeted by a warmth and a wetness. The warmth was as one would expect, but the wetness? Was that how she always was, or was this starting to affect her, as it was me?

Soon I had two fingers inside her, curled them up and found her G Spot. She liked that, or at least her eyes and her hips gave me that impression. Again, gently using the knife I enlarged the hole, until I could liberate the whole of her lips from within their satin prison. They seemed to enjoy being freed from their confinement and spread out wide. I helped them along by taking hold of them one at a time and pulling until I could pull them no more and they slipped from my grip with a snap. I guessed that I was hitting the correct spots, as she continued to respond to the stimulation. 

Was I imagining it or was there a soft humming sound coming from her throat?

Now that she was almost totally naked, I had a burning desire to complete the process, and so taking the knife, I slipped it under one of the pieces of elastic at her hip, and cut through it, before repeating the motion on the other piece. The small triangle of silk was only now held in place either by her lips still protruding through it, or the wetness coming from them. However, a quick flick with the point of the knife, and the triangle flew away and disappeared.

She put out her hands as if to grab the knife, and then realising the consequence, quickly averted the action by spreading her fingers as wide apart as they would go, and then sucking in her breath at the closeness of the call. The reality of her situation seemed to hit her, and she started to tremble again.

"Fuck bitch you're built." It came out involuntarily, it was a compliment, and I hoped that she took it as one, and then I noticed something else...pubic hair. 

"I'm shocked, you're not shaved, but you used to be?"

Carol dropped her eyes, bit her lip, but said nothing.

"Have you stopped shaving?"

Again, she said nothing, just shaking her head slightly.

Sensing that she was hiding something from me, I dragged the knife across her stomach, and holding her gaze firmly, moved it slowly along the crease at the top of her legs, before putting the handle at her opening. She was still trembling, and seemingly more so than before. Her hands were shaking and her fingers again reaching out as if to grab the knife away from me, only for the danger of that action to impact on her, and she froze them in midair, then withdrew them back onto her stomach.

Seeing her submission, I then used the knife handle to spread her lips, and was intrigued to see her slime making a bridge from her to it...she was indeed very wet!

Continuing to gently move the handle up and down just inside her, I turned my eyes to Carols', they were closed, was it in fear? I thought probably not, as if it were to be fear they would have been wide open. Other emotions were maybe at play inside of her.

I couldn't help myself, and my eyes returned to admire the body of my twenty four year old sister lying naked, fully on show, legs spread wide, no kids marks on her flat stomach, large breasts, pretty fit, and despite the anger that had been in me, I had to admit that she was fucking hot. In fact, that anger had dissipated some time ago, probably about the time that I started to push myself into her mound. It struck me that whatever turns the rest of the day took, I was the one who would make the decisions that I wanted to make, not her.

Still running the handle along between her lips, I brought my hand down and ran my palm over her pubic hair, I was fascinated by it. I'd of course seen photos of women with hair before, but had never been with someone who'd actually let it grow, absolutely everyone that I knew shaved, even Carol, or so I'd thought.

Again I asked, "Why haven't you shaved?"

She shook her head, or was she still trembling?

"Tell me why you haven't shaved?"

Her silence indicated that she'd no intentions of telling me.

For all of this time, I'd been moving the handle gently inside her, and running the palm of my other hand across the hair. It was soft, not at all unpleasant or prickly as I'd thought that it would be.

On the window ledge, a few feet away from me were two small plastic pump bottles, one was Mums' hand cream for after she'd done the dishes, and the other was soap for her to wash her hands. My eyes opened wide as I saw the soap.

"You should be shaved, and I'm going to do it."

"NO!" she screamed at me, and then again, "NO!"

I'd obviously hit a nerve with that one, one that ensured that no matter what she said to me, or how firmly she said it, she was going to be shaved.

This was payback time. "Oh yes my pretty sister, you're going home to Eric as bald as the day that you were born."

"NO!" she again screamed. "Please don't, I'll do anything that you want, but please don't shave me," she tried to get up only to be met by the knife once again pressing onto her throat.

Her fear was making her frantic now, which made me even more determined to go ahead with it. It didn't matter how often, or how loudly she yelled out, she was going to be shaved. Whatever it was that was bothering her, made it even more appealing to me to make up for the years of torment she'd put me through.

She sat up and all at once became assertive, "Don't you dare even think about it pal, if you shave me, you'll have to answer to Eric." Now Eric wasn't a bad guy, but physically he wasn't in my league, and I knew that he'd never last even one round if it came to a punch up. I pulled the handle out of her and said, "And if you don't lie back and shut the fuck up, you'll have to answer to Mack The Knife."

She failed to see the humor in that, the only emotion in her was fear, as she begged me, "Please don't, Eric's the only one that can do that to me."

"No he's not, with this knife in my hand, I can do whatever I want to you right now." As the knife pushed harder against her windpipe Carol was forced to move back until she was lying flat on the benchtop again. To help her to realise that I was going to do as I wanted, I ran the blade down across her breast, stopping at her nipple where I worked it back and forth, back and forth several times. Before running it all the way down that lovely flat stomach, over her soon to be removed pubic hair, then once again allowing the handle to enter her.

"Do we understand each other now?"

With tears in her eyes she nodded.

"No more bullshit from you now?"

She shook her head, the tears running down her cheeks, causing her mascara to run all over her face.

My bitch sister Carol was now mine, maybe the last few years had been worth it, because I knew that wherever this went, I would enjoy the rest of this day, and would remember it with great fondness forever, guaranteed.

I took the handle from within her, put it down on the benchtop between her thighs, and then used the time for the fingers of both hands to further explore Carols most private place. Fuck she was wet.

"Are you always this wet?"

Her eyes flicked to meet mine, and then dropped down to her chest, avoiding contact, her silence told me the answer.

She was as wet as I could remember any woman being in my life as I continued to enjoy the ownership of my sister, and as it was obviously only temporary I ran my hands and fingers all over, and in and out of her body making the most of the limited time that I had.

Was she actually getting wetter? I certainly thought so as her mucus refused to let go from my fingers. Strand after strand stretched from her to me hanging on like an umbilical cord. She was certainly now starting to respond a little by raising her hips to meet my invading fingers and her breaths were coming in shorter sharper bursts. 

My hands were soaked.

Eventually the urge to shave her became too much to resist, so I went across and got the soap.

Carol must've felt me move as her eyes opened, followed me across to the bottle, and all the way back, before saying in a frightened pleading voice, "David...please don't, only Eric's allowed to do that." 

It seemed to be a last attempt to sway my mind, and when I showed her the knife she knew it wouldn't work, but she'd had to give it one last try, after which she simply lay back and closed her eyes, as if resigned to her fate. But she did continue to shake her head, and whispering said, "No, please don't, only Eric..."

I put the soap onto the benchtop between her legs to allow me further time to invade her private space, soon I had two fingers as deep inside her as they would go, with my thumb skidding across her clitoris, lightly at first, but with more and more pressure, until the little button was popping out, complete with a gasp from Carol, and a thrust of her hips.

This was now officially good fun, as we'd moved to a position of not only my being in control, but of my sister almost out of control, the noises and movements that she was making made that clear. Obviously, my fingers inside, and my thumb working her clitoris over were getting to her as well, this made it more likely that she would put up less resistance when the time came. 

It was at this point that I realised that there was a very real possibility that I was going to fuck Carol, that would be so much better than punching her in the mouth, and would have a much longer lasting, and a more profound effect.

Ceaselessly my hands and fingers continued to invade my sister, until I took up the knife and after running the palms of my hands over her pubic hair softly, tenderly, and almost lovingly. I replaced my palms with the side of the blade, running that over the hair. I wasn't trying to shave her whilst dry, but simply sliding it over her silky down. 

I did this several times, and then for some reason things suddenly changed, so that there was now a different Carol lying there. One who moved her hand from her side, ran it up and over her breast, stopping to pat her nipple with her palm several times. She then ran the hand up her face and though her hair, before moving it back to her breast. Clasping it firmly three or four times she then found her nipple, which she proceeded to pull as far away from her body as she possibly could get it, until it tore itself from her grip, causing her to gasp.

She repeated this maneuver several more times, seemingly stretching it even further every time until it reached its limits, and then the next time when Carol stretched it, it went even further away again. If I'd done that to her it would have been classed as domestic violence, but in this situation, it just served to underline the close relationship between pleasure and pain. 

She was in pain, and loving it, the noises she was making proved that.

What had caused her to do this? What'd changed to make her this new person who was actively participating, in what only a few short moments ago had seemed to be absolutely the worst thing that could possibly happen to her? It was clear that pulling on her own nipples as she was, was only going to stimulate her more. It was going to make it even harder for her to achieve any level of control of herself, let alone me. It was as if she was encouraging me to do whatever I wanted to with her.

As I watched her I knew that anything was possible now, she was an awesome sight as she abused her body in that way, effectively playing right into my hands. I was fascinated at the turn that this had taken, I couldn't take my eyes of this person who used to be my sister, but was now this new person putting on a show for me like no other. 

Eventually of course, all good things must come to an end, and so almost with reluctance, because the show that she was putting on was so riveting, I spread her lips open wide for one last time to admire the pink and wetness of her insides. I held them open for a few seconds more before setting about the task at hand...removing my sisters' pubic hair.

Carol was still pulling on her nipples as I picked up the soap, pressed a measure into the palm of my hand and spread it over the hair. Her eyes flickered open briefly as I made contact, and then she went back to doing what it was that was she was doing to herself.

Two more squirts and the lather was sufficient to cover all the offending thatch, and when it mixed with her slime it really started to foam up.

I picked up the knife, "Keep still."

Weakly she protested, "Please don't," without moving her fingers from her nipples.

She and I both knew that it was futile, she was going to be shaved, and we also both knew that at this point Carol had accepted as fact the inevitability of her situation. She stopped pulling on her nipple as she steeled herself for that inevitability, however she made one last feeble effort of, "Please don't, David I of beg you."

I choose to ignore her.

Even though she knew what was going to happen, she still flinched as I used the thumb and index finger of my left hand to tension her skin before I moved the knife down, her body again flinched as the first touch of steel registered in her brain.

"Don't cut me for fucks' sake David...please"

I knew that I'd done a really good job of sharpening the knife when it glided over her skin as if it were silk. Like a lawn mower removing grass from a lawn, my Pinnacle Skinner removed the pubic hair from my sister. Slowly and carefully one stroke at a time it came away clean. 

When the knife was full of foam and hair, I reached up and wiped it off on her empty bra cup. Carol raised her head and looked at my deposit before sinking back, the fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by a more haunted look. It wasn't just a look of acceptance, it was much, much deeper than that as she continued to torment her breasts.

Her skin flinched again at the next touch of my hand on her stomach, and then she did a strange thing, she put her hand over mine as I pulled the skin tight, and then proceeded to lightly run her fingers over it, almost lovingly.

This was a new development.

Having started the job there was no hesitation on my part in continuing, more and more strokes with the blade meant less and less hair on Carol. Three more times I left a pile of foam and hair on her bra, but she never looked up. She did however take her hand back to resume the abuse of her nipple.

Soon it was finished, I walked over to the rail to get Mums' hand towel, Carol knew that I'd gone but she no move at all, remaining spread open wide...and bald. With one hand still pulling on her nipple she slid the other one down over her stomach, paused, and then moved beyond to cup her baldness in her hand.

She had tears in her eyes, "David, you shouldn't have done that, I wanted Eric to be the one."

For the first time, I felt a pang of regret, "Maybe if in the past...?"

She cut me off with a wave of her hand, "Yeah I know, but that's how brothers and sisters have always behaved, I asked you to not do it, and you just ignored me, FUCK YOU."

The yell startled me, and as I cast my eyes down, I noticed that she wasn't just cupping her mound, her fingers were actually stroking herself.

Moving back to between her legs I moved her fingers away and used Mums' towel to wipe the last vestiges of soap and hair from her, and then stood back to admire my handiwork.

"Happy arsehole?" She snarled.

I nodded, but looking again more closely said, "No damn it, I've missed a couple, I'll need a minute more and then I will be." Retrieving the knife, and making a big production of taking one hair between my thumb and forefinger, I pulled it as far as it would stretch from her body, before taking the knife and severing the hair as close to her skin as I could get.

Her eyes were like saucers as she felt the skin being stretched, and then the knife sliding along it before the release from the hair as the blade did its work.

"Now for the next one," I looked and saw that she was biting her bottom lip quite hard, so hard that if she kept it up, she was certainly going to bleed.

Once I'd identified the next hair, I didn't pull on it, but held it tight and waited. Not knowing what I was doing her eyes opened, and it was at that instant I pulled and then removed the solitary hair. I had eye contact with her for a brief moment before her eyes closed again, she put her head back, and moaned. 

As I picked out the next hair and pulled on it, I saw her hips rise as if drawn by the hair, again, and again as I pulled the hair up, her hips rose. As I sliced that one off, her hips again rose, followed by the now expected moan and then a sudden slight spreading further apart of her knees.

When she did that it was possible for me to see the true extent of her wetness, a small stream of frothy white liquid was slowly moving down into the valley between her cheeks. As I watched, Carols' right hand slipped between her thighs and lightly rubbed her shaved area, and again moaned softly.

I let her rub herself for some seconds, accompanied by more moaning, before moving her hands away, and then selecting another wayward hair to be subjected to the knife treatment. This was the last one that I could see, it was so close to the actual lip that I had a lot of difficulty getting hold of it due to her wetness. As a result I ended up pulling on her lip, stretching it out from her body before letting go as it slipped through my fingers...there was that moan again.

I figured that as she seemed to like that, I'd do it again, which I did, with the same result. She liked it so much that I then used both hands to alternatively pull her lips as far apart as they would go, with the same result. The effect of this was to cause her to lift both of her legs off the benchtop into the air, arch her back, shudder and then call out. 

This was now the time for me to remove the last hair.

To this point in my life I'd never even imagined that anyone could become as involved as this, I'd been so totally consumed by making sure that she didn't manage to gain control, that the possibility of taking my sister sexually had never even entered my mind...until now.

Sex with ones' sister is not the sort of thing that most of us would ever consider, perhaps only in the more uncouth moments spent with drink and friends, would a comment be made. But I wasn't drunk, and I wasn't with anyone other than Carol, who seemed to have now warmed to my presence.

By now the shaved area was quite red, so I went and got the bottle of Mums' hand cream, squirted a long line of it from her chin to her groin area, repeated it, and then again for a third time.

Carol watched me warily, but any thoughts that she had remained hers, as I brought the knife back up and used it to cut through the last parts of her dress still in place, the two pieces over her shoulders.

Running my hands up over her stomach I spread the hand cream all over her, from her shaved area to her shoulders, and back again, up and back, up and back, spending the appropriate amount of time on her 'good bits'. She seemed to appreciate having the insides of her thighs massaged all the way from her knees to the crease at the top of her legs. Several times I made as if to actually touch her vagina, but pulled away at the last second. She liked that too, raising her hips to meet the non-invading fingers. 

Knowing that I would eventually have to make the move on her, I decide that the time was fast approaching, so I started to pat her lips. Just softly at first, but then a little harder, and then a little harder again until I was using quite an amount of force for such a sensitive area, striking her up and down, and across both ways. Her crotch, already red was getting redder by the second as more and more blood rushed to the surface.

carol started to shudder as the effects of the spanking took hold on her, and after I placed two fingers inside her as far as they would go, with my thumb sliding hard on her clitoris, and the other hand still patting her shaved area, the whole of her body became red as she launched into her first ever climax with me, her brother. 

Again, and again her body bucked as the shocks ran through her. I stopped slapping her, and stood back fascinated at the display of raw sex, and as I did so her right hand snaked down, pushing mine away. Three of Carols' fingers disappeared inside herself, and were seemingly used to then lift her hips up from the benchtop like a crane, time and time again, only to crash back down. The sounds of her landing on the benchtop was like a hard slap, but she seemed oblivious to it, she just had to come.

Carol was fighting for every breath as she took her time coming down, and when she did, she turned her face away from me. She may have been just a little embarrassed by her level of involvement, and response. I moved to be alongside of her, sliding my hand over her lower stomach and the tops of her legs. Again, surprisingly her hand came down and covered mine before softly running her fingers over it several times. Even when my hand covered her shaved area, hers came with it and stroked mine. After some minutes, the pressure of her hand on mine increased, and then became more insistent, as she made her intentions clear. She needed fingers inside her again, so I pushed first one and then another harshly into her, she moaned her approval again raising her hips in greeting. Carols' other hand moved to her breast, found her nipple, and again pulled, as if it were elastic.

After giving her some time to enjoy the full impact that this was having on her, I softly dropped my slacks and shorts onto the floor. She heard them fall and knowing what they were, opened her eyes, saying, "Please don't," but without a whole lot of conviction. 

Maybe my two fingers inside her, and she, inflicting 'domestic violence', on her nipple may have influenced her as well. So that when I took my cock and ran it several times up and down her opening, her hips pushed forward to meet me. But just as the tip entered her, she, struggling, raised herself up, rolled over to her left, reached out her hand and said, "David come to me, if this is going to happen, I want it to be good for you too."

This was not the Carol that I knew, so I was wary at first, but with my testosterone levels being where they were, I moved to her, let her take my cock into her hand, and then pull it into her mouth. It was only then that I realized the potential for her to inflict serious injury onto my pride and joy.

I guess the thought mustn't have entered her head either as she slowly and sensually enveloped the head of my cock with her lips. I think that the moment of entry, whether into mouth or a vagina is the absolute best feeling ever. That moment when the warmth and wetness welcomes you inside the woman's body, is the most exquisite feeling that I know.

As her lips slid down my shaft and her tongue flicked the head, there was nothing that I could do to stop myself from coming. The sexual tension between us had been going for some time now and I had no resistance at all. Other than putting my hand onto the back of her head, I could do nothing only thrust myself harshly into her mouth as the electricity ran through my body, bolt after bolt, as spurt after spurt shot from me into her.

As soon as I started to come I saw that she was pushing it out of her mouth and onto the benchtop. Soon she had a large pool of me, in and on her mouth, her cheek and shoulder, as well as the benchtop. I'd heard her say that she hated the taste of cum, so that must have been as far as she was prepared to go for me, and she wasn't going to swallow it.

Eventually my ecstasy subsided and my still hard cock came from her mouth with a soft plop, I stepped away slightly, as she lay on the benchtop covered in my mess. She seemed quite happy with herself, she even had a slight smile in her eyes and on her lips.

Our eyes met, "Happy now?" She sneered. I wondered if what'd happened had been a way that she could at least have had a measure of control. 

I nodded, "That's me taken care of, now it's your turn."

She shook her head, "No please don't, it's ok, I'm fine thanks." 

I saw that the slime from between her legs had now started to form a slight pool on the benchtop. "No Carol, you've done me and now this one's for you." As I moved my hand down, my fingers slid easily inside of her and I then started to stimulate her with them, and with my mouth. After a small protest, she put her hand onto my hip and raising her own hips to meet me, gave a guttural moan and said, "Oh fuck, ok I guess, if feel you have to."

"Not only do I have to, but I want to." I really just wanted to continue the control that I had over her for a moment longer,

She must have been as ready for it as I'd been, because almost the instant she lay back she started to come. The instant that she'd accepted what it was that was happening, she gave in to her feelings and let the shudders rack her body. She must have been holding it back as long as I had, as the volume and intensity of her climax was just as great as mine had been. 

But of course, being a woman she didn't need more than about thirty seconds of respite, during which time my fingers remained sliding slowly and softly inside her, and my thumb ran equally slowly and softly over her clitoris, so that by then her body was ready to betray her once again.

Her third climax came a short time later, time I'd spent carefully touching, licking and pinching all the sensual parts of her body, I payed special attention to pulling her lips as far away from her as they would go until her wetness caused them to tear themselves away from my fingers, if she'd been ready for the first ones, it was as if she was overdue for this one.

As she showed no signs of being sated, I allowed her a short moment where I only ran my thumb softly over her lips and clitoris time and time again, until her body started to respond. I must say that I was fascinated to watch this woman in the throes of ecstasy, I couldn't believe that this was the same little girl that I'd grown up with over so many years, she was wild beyond belief.

I found that to get her to the highest point, it took a combination of licking her clitoris, stretching her lips with my teeth until they would stretch no more, whilst at the same time she was pulling on her nipples. This drove her single mindedly onto her next climax, and after another further bout of foreplay for several minutes, she came yet again.

As her cries died down and she seemed to finally be spent, I looked at her, she was truly fucked in every sense of the word. Her hair all over her face and her mascara running everywhere gave her a somewhat tragic look. Her mouth hung open, with the remnants of my cum all over her teeth, her chin, her neck, her shoulder and chest. Her nipples and breasts, long abused were a mass of angry red blotches which might take some explaining away later. The whole of her torso and groin area were covered in a mixture of hand cream and her secretions. Her clothes of course were long ago shredded, and in part hanging down over the edge of the benchtop. 

I touched her on her clitoris, she jumped, and then waved me away, saying, "No more...I'm done...finished...all over."

I now realised that I was fully erect again, and had been stroking myself for some time as I'd made her come for me, and I was now ready to come again for her. So, I pulled her inert wrecked body towards me, it slid easily on the dress still trapped under her. I lifted her legs, put one over each shoulder, and without taking any time at all slid quite roughly inside of her.

"NO," from somewhere she found the strength to yell out and swatted her hands at me as she pushed herself away so that I slid out of her. "I told you not to do that, you arsehole?"

As Carol fell backwards after stopping me from going inside her, my hand reached out and I ran my fingers along her lips. "Please don't David I don't need any more touching there, I'm finished, I just can't come again."

"But this is what I want to do" I said, emphasizing the 'I' and reaching for the knife let her see it in my hand. Carol shook her head, but having to accept that I was still in charge, closed her eyes, lay back, gave a big sigh and said, "Ok if you have to, just get on with it, but I'm really sore and sensitive now."

I knew then that I almost had her, and so with her legs still hard against my chest I brought three fingers between us and ran them over her lips, before putting the tips of them slightly inside her. Her eyes opened, she met my gaze, shook her head in resignation, then closed them again. 

With the fingers just inside of her, I slid my cock under them and pushed slightly so that the head entered less than an inch inside, she didn't notice, so I slid a further inch in. Still she didn't notice, but I did, I noticed the difference in the wetness and in her heat. By this time, I'd absolutely no control at all, and I was just so ready to blow as I thrust myself hard into her.

Carol took a few seconds before she realised what I was doing, I'd thought that she was totally spent, but from somewhere she found the strength to raise her head and yell, "NO DON'T, FUCK YOU, I BLEW YOU, ISN'T THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?" As she shook her fist threateningly at me, she struggled to get away, but with my arms wrapped tightly around her legs over my shoulders, she was unable to, in fact her struggling to get away was just another form of stimulation for me.

All in all, it must have only been about five seconds before I came, this time not in her mouth, but in her vagina. As soon as I started thrusting, her struggle became even more and more frantic, and her cries and yelling much louder. But I wasn't going to be denied, hugging her legs to me even harder, as more and more electrical current flowed from me into Carol.

By the time I'd finished squirting my load inside her, she'd put her left hand around my neck, to assist her to sit up, so that she could push me, trying to get away. With her face only a few inches away from mine, punching me in the back of the head, and on my shoulder, she yelled, "I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO COME INSIDE ME, THAT'S WHY I BLEW YOU, I HATE CUM IN MY MOUTH, BUT I DID IT SO YOU WOULDN'T COME INSIDE ME, YOU FUCK!"

Spent, I stepped back letting her legs fall, and then pushing her back along the benchtop as my cock fell out of her with a soft plop. "What's wrong with that, you're on the pill..." a horrible feeling swept across me, "aren't you?"

"NO I'M FUCKING NOT, we've been trying to get pregnant since we first got married, and I've just about given up. The doctor tells me that I'm too tense because I'm trying too hard, so I wanted to let Eric shave me tonight, because when someone else shaves me I get as horney as all fuck. I get totally out of control, I don't give a fuck about anything else...AS YOU FUCKING SAW."

That horrible feeling in my gut got worse.

With tears in her eyes she yelled, "I BLEW YOU SO THAT YOU WOULDN'T COME INSIDE ME, BUT YOU STILL WENT AHEAD AND FUCKED ME."

The feeling in my gut got even worse as she again yelled at me.

"I'M FERTILE RIGHT NOW, YOU ARSEHOLE."

"Fertile...fuck really?"

"YES REALLY." She fell back crying with her face in her hands.

For a moment, I was about to shit myself, and then the realization hit me that the problem; should there be one; wasn't mine. Maybe I'd just got the ultimate revenge on my sister for being such a bitch.

"I wonder Carol, am I going to be a father, or an uncle?"

Her response was to curl up in the fetal position and scream, what you'd call a primal scream, as it came from so deep within her.

As soon as Carol curled up, my eyes were drawn down to that most prominent part of her body, her sex was protruding from between the tops of her thighs, and it was bright red. All the different aspects of our sexual activity had caused the blood to rush to the surface, so that all that I saw was red raw flesh. The shaving and the protracted periods of slapping and other sexual stimulation had left her lips engorged, open and raw. It just looked so beaten up, I thought that if I were to touch her there she would have screamed in pain.

And then I saw it, starting slowly at first, just a touch of white, and then it got a little faster, until a trickle of cum ran from between her inflamed lips and then over the back of her leg, before falling down onto the benchtop. This was confirmation, if any was needed, that I had just bred my sister.

As if to acknowledge that it had happened, Carol once again gave out a deep gut wrenching guttural scream.

"I'm in a quandary Carol, what should I be, a Father or an Uncle?" I asked her, and after pausing for a moment, said, "I know I think I'll call myself a Funcle." 

I don't think that she appreciated my sick attempt at humor, as she too busy screaming again.