Like clockwork, your heart is still working itself up into an unhealthily aerobic threshold every ten minutes or so at the thought of all you know being obliterated, if only this afternoon had played out a little differently.

            When Sophie arrived in a surprise rampage at Carly’s college dorm room, had you not warned your sister in time, your whole life might well have been launched into an unknown trajectory of shame and solitude, without the holy guidance of Carly to direct your every want, need, and desire for the rest of your natural life.

            But by the grace of whatever merciful deities may or may not be pulling the strings up in the beyond, that’s not what happened. You are still the universe’s best-kept secret. You are still your sister’s treasured property.

            “Feeling good again, little bro?” Carly questions gently as she cradles you in her expansive palm, her fingers curling every so often down into your quivering naked body and stroking the grooved pad of her digits along your bare skin. With the door to her bedroom back home double-locked, the lights dimmed low in her fortress of pink, and your nearly six-foot sister-turned-goddess sprawled out in an especially skimpy midriff-bearing undershirt and robin’s egg short-shorts as she reclines on her bed with you cupped into the warm flesh of her hands, it’s definitely difficult to complain.

            A warm bath in the sink was more than appreciated after you spent a couple of hours clenched and concealed between Carly’s golden-tanned butt cheeks, the one place no one could possibly think to look even if Sophie’s claims didn’t come off as the shrieked whims of someone on too creative a cocktail of opioids.

            It wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, at least at first, as your titanic sibling had to allay any and all suspicion by strutting about with her usual confident fervor, despite having a human life entrapped between those fleshy globes. For you, it meant a continual battering amidst a pair of weighty curved walls, pancaking you between them and smushing your back into the puckered portal of her anus every time the fabric of her panties rode down into her crack, strapping you tightly into where the sun very infrequently shone. Oxygen was at a premium, especially given the increasingly sweaty, sticky conditions available to you for filling up your lungs.

            Though if you’re honest with yourself, you couldn’t help but feel some disappointment once Carly’s fingers finally fished down into her ass and plucked you out like a forgotten plug.

            “Uh-huh,” you answer quietly as you curl into Carly’s thumb. The slender digit caresses in a figure-8 formation over your narrow chest, relaxing you into liquid form in your sister’s creased palm.

            “Why are you still shaking?” she mumbles dearly, narrowing her eyes at you. For an instant, your jaw catches, and you can only witness those auric cataracts shifting over her shapely shoulders and arms, wondering what life might’ve been like if you couldn’t still view them at this distinctly epic scale.

            Would life still have been worth living?

            Hell, could you still even be considered alive without Carly?

            “Just… trying to calm down,” you explain, feeling open like never before with your enormous sibling. Already you have the sense that things are permanently altered, as if the last barrier separating the reality you and Carly exist in has been shattered, and yet the simultaneous knowledge that it’s all right. Everything is fine.

            This is correct.

            “Aww. I know it must’ve been a lot to go through today. I know you were afraid to tell me what happened with Sophie. But it’s okay now,” she coos, displaying some raw sympathy in such a way you honestly can’t say you’ve ever seen in Carly that wasn’t just being used to shroud a demonic grin and a demented plan to utilize your body for new and darkly amusing purposes. Those commanding blue eyes can hide an awful lot, and they have for many years from the rest of humanity, but it seems they can no longer fully do so in your presence.

            Another change.

            “Y-Yeah,” you gulp. “I know.”

            “We just gotta be a little more careful for a little while,” Carly explains nonchalantly. Her tongue laps at the corner of her mouth, slicking a thin, glistening line along the pink flesh. The thumb that’s been stroking in circles just above your ribcage snakes a little lower, pinning down your hands and making its way over your abdomen, kneading your frail form and reclaiming every square millimeter of your body as hers with absolute certainty.

            And God, it feels like heaven. Those silky fingers, casting over your skin again and again, unafraid to touch you at any and every angle, letting you become intimately aware of the spooled patterns of her fingertips. You wish she’d never let go, except maybe to furrow you into the flushed wrinkles of her sole to the brink of drunkenness.

            “You know, just until Sophie figures out she didn’t really see you,” your savior trails.

            You frown, momentarily anxious that your sister’s misunderstood the stakes here. Such a misstep can’t be afforded, now that you both finally have everything you ever wanted. “But… but she… she did see me. She-”

            “She thinks she saw Jack Arton,” Carly interjects comfortably, the logic of it crystal-clear in that pretty head of hers. Just by her tone, already you’re becoming more accepting of it yourself, though you don’t know why. As long as Carly knows, though, then everything is fine. “She thinks she saw a boy who used to be taller than six feet and do nerdy computer stuff and be a jerk to me while he was pretending to be a person on his own.”

            “Y-Yeah?”

            “But that’s not who she saw.”

            “Then… who?” you mutter dumbly, letting the fragments of your once-rational brain rest motionless until Carly’s fingers come back to piece them back into her designated order. Just like she does with your physical body.

            “She saw my little bro,” Carly simpers, offering a definitive shrug. Her palm rises up higher from the hot-pink bedspread, drawing you closer to her chin as her tongue dances another slippery lap around her lips. “My little bro. No one else’s.”

            “T-Thank you,” you utter, mining more meaning in these few syllables than in most anything you’ve heard for the past several years, and perhaps your whole life. Your shrunken heart is heavy and prone to violent rattling after the panicked events of this day, but easily buoyed by your sister’s booming final declaration.

            “Of course,” Carly says. “Everything will be perfect forever now, Jack. You’ll see.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “I don’t just mean for a long time. I mean forever. Things can be different, now that you see you’re mine. I can make things… good for you, just like you make them good for me. Understand?”

            “Y-Yes.”

            “Yes what?”

            “Yes, sissy.”

            “Good boy,” Carly commends in a buttery tone, her pupils inflating by the second, the goose bumps noticeably rising across the tanned plains of her skin. “Maybe I just need to remind, you though.”

            “R-Remind me?”

            “How good things are when you’re mine.” Her angelic lips press together, the delicate skin bulging cutely as she purses them and presses her mouth to your legs. Already her lips are broadening, engulfing your legs, her tongue slathering your limbs as they pull you inside. You, meanwhile, remain in a state of pristine calm, letting your ragdoll muscles yield into your gigantic caregiver’s control.

            With practiced gentleness, Carly forces the writhing mass of her tongue between your legs as she sucks your body into her mouth down to your waist, while her fingers prop up your shoulders into her upper lip. You clasp your hands into the moistened flesh, giving your sister’s full lip a squeeze in delight and eternal thanksgiving as her tongue commences fondling your exposed junk. Letting the endless gallons of saliva lubricate the exchange to painfully tingling effect, the girl’s red muscle flicks and cradles your miniature member. She scoops half your body into the constantly morphing protrusion, running and flexing the whole length of her massive, slimy tongue along your crotch and thighs.

            Those pillared fingers of hers pin into your limbs, plastering your body against her lips and pull more of you inside, until her teeth are gently positioned just above your chest. Heat is rising beneath your skin, your ear drums thumping with the steady spin cycle of her saliva and a soft, pulsing murmur from the back of Carly’s throat.

            Further up the length of the bed, you hear the rustle of fabric and the snap of a button being tugged free. Carly’s free hand disappears from view, burrowing beneath her stomach and down toward her waist, and in an instant you understand what’s happening.

            As your sister digs her opposite hand down into her panties and begins playing with herself, her jaws hang briefly opening, releasing the pressure on you just for an instant. A guttural moan like none you’ve ever heard uttered by your nineteen-year-old sibling lurches from her throat, billowing in your skull and making your member pulse as never before. To prevent you from slipping out of her control, though, her fingers curl and tighten back around your limbs and re-fasten you into the slope of her writhing tongue.

            The routine in your sister’s mouth picks up the pace in sync with her own rapid masturbation, Carly’s tongue pinpointing on your initially timid dick and accelerating the swampy massage with a spit-sloshing vengeance. It doesn’t take more than twenty seconds before your body responds appreciatively, your rod stiffening further against the infinite distance of Carly’s loving tongue as it encircles you. The spongy walls of her cheeks depress in and out as she suckles your legs and family jewels, beginning to coax a climax out of you in record time. You can feel the end approaching already.

            “Not yet,” she chokes out, unable to get every syllable out cleanly, given how much of your body is jammed between her chompers. Her voice pleads with you. “Don’t cum yet.”

            “Okay,” you pant desperately. Your muscles tighten, your veins seemingly ready to pop, but you obey, holding it in. Straddling the line between incredible liquid pleasure and sexually stunted agony, you simply exist, and wait.

            She can flip you on and off like a light switch. She knows it, you know it, and you love it more than anything, except for maybe Carly herself.

            You grunt from the effort of holding in your miniature load, wrapping your legs around Carly’s tongue, subconsciously in an attempt to slow its pace and stave off your inevitable burst.

            “Please… not… yet… little… bro…” your sister cries in the quiet, her triceps flexing with the effort to deliver herself to the finish line via practiced pumps of her fingers south of her waist. “Hold… onto… me.”

            Complying comes so naturally, you’ve hardly processed the words before your body follows the order. Planting more licks and bites against Carly’s upper lip is all you can manage as your legs flail and shake beyond your control, having seemingly given themselves over to your sister’s mouth without even letting you know. Your dick, of course, long ago independently gave itself over to her.

            Another moan echoes through the cavern of Carly’s throat below you, shaking your body, and placing you in perfect alignment with the thrusts of her entire body as she humps into the tousled sheets of her bed.

            “Almost,” she huffs. Her palm clasps to your back, the gyrations of her hips in full gymnastic force. “Wait… wait… wait… three… two…”

            The climax is historic. Almost biblical. For both of you, but speaking for yourself, it’s nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, and that includes each and every time your sister has teased a guilty orgasm out of you against your will, and even the consensual toe-fuck you experienced in her room earlier today.

            No. this is something new. A squeal is ripped from your tiny throat in tandem with the ethereal bellow from the temple of your titanic sister’s mouth. The force of it feels like having your entire being fired out from the end of your member, consumed directly into Carly’s own massive being, and indeed, that’s what’s transpired. Empty as you should feel after that, you’re fuller than ever, warmed to your very soul by Carly’s guidance. Her absolute control of you and everything that pertains to your existence. Just trying to regain your lost breath, you gasp with undying gratitude for all she’s done to make your being take on some kind of significance, no matter how small.

            “Welcome to your life, little bro,” Carly croons with so much sticky love you just might melt into her lips and slide down her throat.

            You can’t begin to fathom a better existence.