You lie limply between your sister’s palm and fingers, noting how quickly she was able to ruin your mood.  You came out of her sweaty shoe, disgusted but with a sense of confidence in your ability to move forward despite the odds.  However, in a single two minutes of all but sexually assaulting you with her fingers, you almost feel like you don’t want to care anymore, so deep was the emotional blow to you and your feeling as a person.

                Carly stops in her tracks, looking down at you, crumpled up and just letting gravity do its work on you inside her hand.  “What’s the matter, little bro?”

                “Nothing…” you say simply.

                “No, really, tell me; what’s the problem?”

                “I guess that that was just…”

                “I thought you said it didn’t hurt?” says Carly, still a bit confused.

                “I know, and it didn’t, but…”

                “Well, didn’t it feel good, then?  I mean, I thought it was supposed to make you feel good,” says Carly logically.  Sadly, you realize that this is one of those brief interludes where Carly is actually kind enough to try and let you get your bearings by doing something she views as nice to you before unleashing her next wave or wrath.  “Didn’t it, little bro?  Feel good?”

                You don’t even want to answer, knowing the mechanics of your current thoughts on the matter are just a bit above Carly’s comprehension.  “It kind of did…”

                “Elaine says it’s supposed to make you feel REALLY good.  Like, you’re supposed to want to yell because you’re so happy or something.”

                “Sometimes, sometimes, it’s just that…”

                “Want to do it again?” says Carly, a smile stretching over her lips.  She opens you up into a cupped hand and instantly the two fingers from her other hand on descending on you.  You don’t even have a second to react as her fingers fold gently around your dick once again.  You quickly twist your legs around her fingers, trying to push them away, but this is useless.

                “What are you doing, little bro?” says Carly, beginning to knead at your crotch anew.  “Your little legs tickle.”

                “Carly, please, once was enough, I’m okay.”

                “Are you sure?” she says, continuing the motion as your legs struggle fruitlessly to block her.  Already, you’re beginning to react again.  Mentally, you note how freakishly quickly your teenaged mind allowed you to get going on a fresh one.

                “Yeah, I’m sure.”

                “I’m just trying to make you feel better, little bro.  I thought you were hurting,” she says, sounding mildly offended, exactly what you don’t want.

                “I know you are, Carly, and that’s nice of you, but you really don’t have to.”

                “But I want to.  It’s kind of funny to watch,” she says, grinning slightly.  Of course it is.

                “I know it is, but the thing is, after you do it once, it… doesn’t feel good anymore,” you lie a little, wondering if this new statement will have the desired effect.  Carly tilts her head at you, disbelieving.

                “Really?”

                “Yeah, really.”

                “That’s not what Elaine said…”

                “Well, I mean, Elaine’s a girl, you know, she doesn’t have one of these.  I’m a person who does, I know what it feels like.”

                “So what you’re telling me is…” says Carly, her fingers slowing down on the grinding on your dick with her fingertips.  “…this hurts you?”

                “It’s not bad.  It just doesn’t feel as good anymore.”

                “When does it feel good again?”

                “Errr…” you say, unsure of how to answer that.  “You have to wait a little while.”

                She nods, seemingly satisfied, removing her fingers from your body.  “Okay, little bro.  We’ll wait.”

                “That’s… that’s okay, really.”

                This time, you get a stern almost-glare.  “Jack, are we forgetting who’s in charge around here?”

                “No…” you’re quick to respond.  She nods, recurling her opened palm up into a cool, soft fist around you.

                “You’re mine, remember?  If I want to do that to your thingie because I know it makes you feel good and it will help you do better on your lessons later, then I’m going to do it.  Right?”

                “Umm…”

                “You need to learn to take a joke a little better…” she says, shaking her head, a slight gleam in her eye worrying you ever so slightly.  Finally stopping, your sister takes a seat on a huge, cushy armchair in the main living room, propping her elbow of the arm of the chair, holding you up so she can get you at face level.  “You know, bro, just while we’ve been talking, I’ve been wondering…”

                “Wondering what?”

                “Whether I’ll really be able to keep you hidden…”

                Can she mean it?  Is she going to give in?

                “Please, Carly, it’s okay; you can give me back so they can help me.  I won’t tell on you ever, I promise.”

                “You really promise?”

                “Yes!” you lie through your teeth.

                She nods.  “I don’t know about that.  See, I know that even if you’ve learned your lessons now, if you become big again you might realize that you can get me back, and then you’ll be mean again.”

                “That won’t happen!”

                “I know it won’t little bro.  Because I’m starting to wonder if I should just get rid of you…”

                The feeling of cold again.  This is the feeling you’ve experienced several times, sadly, in the last couple of days.  It began with you sitting in your sister’s cereal and milk spoon.  It came next hanging off her belly button.  It came next eagerly awaiting the chewed up spittle of your sister for dinner.  It came next crawling through the deadly darkness of the closet for water.  And now it’s flooding you again as Carly freely admits once again that she doesn’t have a problem getting rid of you.  Except it makes sense this time.  It’s not like her earlier attempts, where it was implausible that she would get rid of you just for the lesson.  She has a reason: some motivation now.  Everything she’s just said is perfectly correct, and sickeningly, you realize she’s doing the somewhat logical thing to do given how far she’s forced you to go into her deep fantasy world.

                “Carly!  You-you can’t!  I mean, I’m…”

                “You’re just a little doll boy now, Jack.  There’s not much left of you.”

                It’s almost as if the more realistic version of your terrible nightmare is coming true as your gigantic sister speaks to you so callously about the possible end of your life.

                “I’m… I’m… not a doll!” you say, almost too scared right now to hide the feeling of hurt in your voice.  Carly smiles.

                “Don’t be silly, of course you are.  Look at yourself.  You can move, but you can’t do anything.  I decide everything that happens to you.  If I wanted to put clothes on you, I would.  But I don’t want to, so you’re not wearing clothes,” she says simply, presenting a rather obvious idea.

                “B-But… I’m…”

                “I mean…” she says, rolling her neck around in a stretch.  “…I really can do whatever I want to you.  If I want to get rid of you, I can, and you can’t do anything about it.”

                Your heart rate begins to rise again.  You’re running out of time very quickly.

                “Carly!  Listen to me, please, I…”

                “Shhhh…” she hushes, places a fingertip right over your mouth, covering most of you face.  “Just be quiet now, Jack.  Don’t talk anymore.”

                You start to shiver.  Is this really going to happen now?  After all you’ve been through?  You watch, unable to speak, as Carly opens her mouth wide again.  As usual, you see a thick strand of saliva still connected from her tongue and the roof of her mouth as she does so, the light glistening from it and her teeth in the process.

                “You’ve gotten to taste my feet a lot, little bro.  So now it’s my turn…” she says, her tongue wriggling outward from over her lips.  “…to taste you.”

                You squirm madly as the hand holding you so firmly in a fist opens up into a flattened palm, pinning your limps down to Carly’s hand with her fingers.  You try to move, but you’re hopelessly held down.  You watch, not able to move, your useless squirming slowing.  The giant pink organ, glistening through the small valley of its center, the light reflecting oddly off the drool coating every uneven inch of her bump-lined muscle, slowly curls outward, Carly’s head tilting forward to reach you.  You tighten your abs as the very tip of the tongue makes contact with your stomach, pressing down, the slippery hardness felt right in your abdomen.  After just a tap, she releases her tongue, leaving a slight damp spot on you.

                “Mmmm…” she murmurs, sounding pleased.  “That wasn’t bad.  But maybe another one, just to be sure…” she says quietly, parting her lips again with a light pop.  You squirm fruitlessly again, trying to get out of your sister’s flat hand, but it’s still no use.  The redness of the tip of her tongue nears you, stretched back but changing into a tone of grainy white on the back of her tongue where she clearly hasn’t brushed very thoroughly in a while.  She presses into your stomach again with more than just the tip of her tongue, folding and inflating just a bit more against you.  The hot, sticky muscle ripples a little even just covering your stomach, shifting side to side as your sister tastes you.  Finally, after about thirty seconds or so of just working her tongue onto your stomach, Carly pulls back, leaving an even wetter puddle on your stomach.            

                “Wow…” she says, grinning slyly.  “You… you… I, mean, you actually kind of taste… sweet…” she says.  You can’t imagine how when you’ve been sweating and overheating from everything she’s done, but apparently you are to her.  You assume that her opinion of your taste is helped by the simple fact of the matter that she has you, fully available TO taste, in the palm of her hand at her leisure.

                “I do?”

                “Yeah, little dummy, you kind of do…” she answers, narrowing her eyes and wrinkling her nose.  “Little bro… what would you do if I ate you?  I mean, actually ate you this time.  Not just scaring you like last time.  If I actually put you inside my mouth, chewed you up, and swallowed you down my throat.  What would you think of that?”

                “I… don’t want…”

                She giggles.  “I’ll BET you don’t want it.  But think about it.  I don’t have to keep hiding you.  You don’t have to keep getting hurt by stuff.  And we’ll be able to hang out for a long, long time!” she says, and her other hand not holding you goes to her flat stomach, which she rubs in slow circles.  “Well, at least for a little while…” she says grinning, her fingers pressing into her shirt and into her taut abs.

                “Carly, NO!”

                “Oh, yes.  You tasted even better that second time.  I think I’d like to keep you inside my tummy like that.  I get a tasty little treat, and you don’t have to worry about stuff anymore.  And I wouldn’t need to worry about where I left you,” she adds coyly, raising an eyebrow.

                Worry about stuff, she says.  Like what?  LIFE?  The cold sweat returns in rivers.

                “I-I-Inside… your…”

                “Inside my tummy, that’s right.  How does that sound?”

                “But… I don’t want to go…” you mumble.

                “Why not?  I know you’re pretty cold and hurting right now.  But if I put you inside me, it wouldn’t hurt or be cold.  You’d be nice and warm inside my stomach, and I wouldn’t have to worry about you anymore; I’d have you with me all the time.”

                “Carly!  P-Please…”

                “Maybe I’ll just check one more time, just to be sure that you really do taste as good as I think you do…” she offers.  As she says this, you watch as two long droobles of saliva come cascading out of her mouth, down the corners and off her chin, where they plop in damp little dots on her shorts below.  She giggles, wiping her mouth off with her wrist.  “See?  You’re starting to make me hungry, little bro.  Your sweet little body is starting to make me want you in my tummy, really soon.”

                Before you can speak again, her saliva-dampened lips are parting again, the massive pink organ, hot and flowing with gooey juices, creeping outward.  Before moving any further, Carly swipes her tongue slowly along the entire rim of her lips in a circular motion, causing any previously dry sections to glisten with a fresh glaze.  She takes three very slow laps around her lips, her tongue contorting and flexing slightly as she presses against her plush lips, making a massive spectacle for you.  You begin to shiver uncontrollably again, your heart rate racing to unhealthy levels.

                Then, without a single break in motion, the massive and long tongue stretches outward, a strand of goop staying connected to the tip and the corner of her mouth.  This time, it goes for your feet.  You feel your toes and ankles pressed and folded into the massive muscle, sticky and corrosive, leaving saliva residue all over you, matting your leg hair down with the sheer volume and thickness of it.  Then, like a human sandwich, your sister folds her palmed hand inward toward the tongue, using it for support against her hand which now has you pressed firmly in between the plush hand flesh and viscous meat monster, pinning your entire body below your neck into it.

                And then her tongue gets to work.  It ripples hard, like a bodybuilder’s biceps, pressing into every inch of you, nearly re-opening your chest wounds.  She reapplies her goo to you thickly and generously, ensuring there’s not a single dry spot on you.  You try and pull your arm out to the side, pushed so powerfully under her finger and tongue, and as you do the space between your arm and side creates a spit bubble.  You have to wave your arm for a minute, causing it to jiggle, before it breaks with a light little pop, spraying you with the gooey remnants. 

                You suddenly feel yourself reacting below, again, much to your dismay.  Despite the discomfort, humiliation, and fear being forced through you right now, you’re not technically in pain, which according to your dick, is a free license to inflate.  And inflate it does, swallowed up in the bumpy, rubbery, muculent folds of tongue flesh.  The warm, gooey slobber works itself under your crotch, attaching your balls to your sister’s massive and rigid tongue in a gummy, fibrous bond, going taut as she thickens it, tightening the muscle inside to optimal capacity.  The awful feeling of embarrassment and violation floods you again as you feel yourself getting larger down there almost twice as fast as before.  Before, you had two pads of flesh, soft yet still a little bumpy as they ground your dick together in a finger sandwich.  Now, however, it’s pressed downward into a soft, soggy, flappy organ, hot and saturated, as it leaks out its soft and bubbly mess onto your entire body.  You can literally feel the thick layer of your sister’s saliva encrusting around your crotch in the cool air, drying.

                Despite the fact that you’re once again being raped and you’re disgusted beyond possible belief, subconsciously, you admit to yourself (painfully) that the sensation flowing through your dick as your sister’s gooey and sweltering mouth organ works hard into you, caressing your tender genitals after so much beating she’s delivered, is the single greatest pleasure you’ve ever physically felt running through your body.  Goose bumps stand up, your hairs rigid and on end, your head rolling back uncontrollably against the soft pads of Carly’s fingers, your body beginning to shake in the last desperate effort to keep your manhood from doing what it seems programmed to do no matter the circumstances.  With nothing else to do, you groan, wishing with all your might that you were somewhere else in the world other than underneath your sister’s hot tongue, getting the greatest build-up you’ve ever received in your life.  You wrap your arms around the slimy organ, hugging it, feeling it press harder into you as a response to the slimy embrace.  You explode hard, ejecting your mess for several seconds.  You look down her tongue as the miniscule droplets, which would have at normal size been a sizeable load, flow down the endless river of saliva being delivered up from the base of her mouth like petals in the rapids.

                For several more minutes, you try to regulate your breathing again as Carly continues to work into your body with her tongue, caking you in layer upon layer of her humid solvent.  And finally, it ends, her tongue snapping back, some parts of your body actually having been attached to it by drying dribbles yanked apart with a painful snap.  She giggles, and you realize there are about three strands still connected to your body from her lips. You wipe at them, but they only come stuck to your arms.  Carly’s low, murmuring chuckle comes through again as she watches you clumsily and helplessly try to rid yourself of the evidence of her terrible violation.

                “Oh my GOD, you taste so GOOD on my tongue.  Are you ready for me to do it?”

                It’s just like your dream.  It’s happening, right now.

                “N-…”

                “Shut up.  Yes you are.  Your sweet little body wants me to do it.  You liked the way that felt, didn’t you?” she says mockingly, probably expecting the answer to be a solid no.  Your brain hurts at the thought that technically, what she just did felt extraordinarily good on your body.

                “N-…”

                “I said shut up, Jack.  Don’t be scared now.  We’ll get to be together for always now!” she says, so brightly and cheerfully she might as well be saying good morning to her best friend.  You watch her mouth open wide, her teeth glistening, her tongue resting at the base of her mouth in a deep pond of warm spit.  Her hand lurches forward, her fingers gripping you tightly and powerlessly, as you go careening toward your sister’s waiting and expectant mouth to be mercilessly ground up by the steel-smashing power of her molars.

                You begin to wonder if Carly knows how to chew quickly to somewhat limit your pain.