Your head swims and spins in alternate directions. The ground winds at infinite distance below. Steam clings to your skin, a warm film creeping over your every desperate inch.

            “Such a dirty little boy.”

            Blood rushing to your head, you peep blearily upward to your upside-down dangled legs, pinched so precariously between Carly’s thumb and middle finger. The pads of her digits grind in soft circles, never losing the firm anchor point on your ankles. Even so, you can feel the tug of gravity in contest with your giant sister.

            But you know who’s going to win.

            The same one who always wins.

            “Aren’t you?”
            Your attention swirls back around to the mid-distance behind you as Carly’s fingers adjust. She turns you around. That angelic face grins with her usual triumph, her blue eyes wide enough to swallow your head. Though her hair is tied back in a messy tail, the stray strands laid across her forehead do nothing to distract you from keeping her gaze. Her eyes are below you as she dangles you upside down and so far above the earth, but height and even space mean almost nothing to you in this position. To you, Carly is simply there, controlling your every fiber and preventing you from tumbling to your doom.

            “Huh?” you mumble.

            The usual girlish giggle. It never fails to make you tingle in your bones. Your sister caresses her lips with the fingers of her free hand, studying you.

            “I said you’re a dirty little boy. And you are, aren’t you?”
            Drunken from your inverted stance, you clumsily nod.

            “Is big sissy making you dizzy?” she teases.

            “A little,” you say.

            “Everything about you is always “a little,” isn’t it, Jackie-poo?” Carly asks.

            “P-Pretty much,” you agree, awkwardly finding the words. Even your tongue is getting loopy.

            “But that’s the way we like it, isn’t it?” she questions, finding the sultry note in a rhetorical statement as she always does. Her lips part, extending nearer to your exposed, dangling body. “Isn’t it?”
            “Yes.”

            “Yeah it is,” she affirms. “But still. Even little boys can still be dirty boys. Which is what you are right now. Little and dirty.”

            “Pretty much.”

            Carly’s pinky finger reaches closer to you, the tip of it stroking along your inner thigh and down to your waistline.

            “Why do you think that is, little bro?”

            “Uhh… probably from being in your sock every day this week without a bath.”

            Carly nods and gently rolls her eyes in false recognition, as if she’d forgotten this fact up until this precise second. She pats her palm against her cheek: a joking penance.

            “Ohhh, right. Of course. Of course, of course you did,” your enormous sibling concurs. Her tongue laps at the corner of her full lips, and her voice drops at least half an octave into a velvet whisper. “And believe me, you’re gonna be in there for every day of next week, too. Cuz you did too good a job this week.”

            “Thank you,” you breathe.

            “You’re welcome, little bro,” she says back. Her head tilts forward, her mouth puckered and glistening to receive. She smothers your lower body in a gooey kiss, the very tip of her muscular tongue taunting your helplessly dwarfed dick. Carly draws this out for nearly a whole agonizingly mesmerizing minute.

            As she pulls away, strings of saliva dribble down your body, finding their way to your head as always.

            “But before we get there,” she sighs. “We’re gonna get you nice and squeaky-clean. So big sissy can play with you all over again. Would you like that?”
            “Yes, please,” you peep, now painted in Carly’s hot spit after her make-out with the bottom half of your body. You can feel the blood rushing in confused directions all around your body, unsure whether to obey gravity and fall to your head or obey the mind-melding blessing of Carly’s sumptuous lips and rise to your dick. It’s a serious predicament for your various bodily systems to work out.

            “But I’m not just gonna lick you off. I mean, I will, too, but not just that. Cuz then we’d just be cats, wouldn’t we?” Carly giggles.

            “Makes sense,” you agree mutely. Who are you not to vote the same as whatever comes out of that heavenly mouth, when it’s always so good to you?

            “Now,” she sighs. “I could just rinse you off in the sink, and we can get back to where we were before right away.” She licks her lips again, puckering them into the geometry of another kiss.

            You nod. That sounds good to you.

            “But I thought maybe we’d try a little something different today,” she says. At last, she lowers you down from your dangled position into her waiting opposite palm. “So we’re not using the sink.”

            It’s hard not to raise an eyebrow at this. Carly’s creative, certainly, as you can attest by counting up the physical games that number in the thousands by variety from over the years, but you also know just as well that your sister is loyal to her favorite routines. Bathing you is generally treated as a quick and efficient necessity.

            Sure, it was a bit different the first time Carly truly “washed” you the day of your shrinking after trampling you beneath her toes for a few hours, when her fingers first delicately explored your every nook and cranny, coaxing the first accidental orgasm out of your abused form. And while hundreds upon hundreds of intentional ones have followed after that, given that you’re always as exposed as when you’re taking a bath, the normal significance of the scenario for duos isn’t quite as pronounced between the pair of you. Why spend time splashing around in the suds, after all, when you could just as easily be splashing around in your sister’s warm, gooey saliva?

            It’s simple logic, really.

            “What’re we doing?” you question, regaining some sense of orientation now that you’re right-side up once again.

            “I thought we’d… what’s the phrase? Kill two birds with one stone?” Carly comments with her usual sense of playful withholding, as though she was discovering the words as they came to her, which you know can’t possibly be true. She presses a finger to her lips one final time, her blue eyes growing bright, and then she sets to work.

            You wait, humbled beyond belief, as Carly carries out the simplest of actions as though it were a religious ritual. Now that both of you are home for summer now, you know neither of your parents will be in the house for hours, leaving the space entirely at your sister’s disposal. Carrying you in her flat palm, she pads across the cool bathroom tile, her bare soles sticking gently to the surface along the way. She passes up on both the sink and glassed in shower, though, for the old bathtub, regal and gleaming with its bronze-pronged feet. Her powerful fingers grasp and twist effortlessly on the hot and cold taps until a steaming deluge is filling up the basin.

            It’s not just you getting a bath. It’s both of you.

            “Why waste the water, right, little bro?” Carly whispers throatily once she realizes she has your attention. You turn just in time to snag another sultry wink and then a kiss on the side of your head that sops your hair with her juices again.

            You hardly notice the undressing; you’ve felt emotionally naked with her for so long, it feels more natural than anything. She’s not wearing much already, given the high temperatures, but in a few tugs of her free thumb, her cut-off shorts and tight tank top are pulled away. She does it all without even putting you down, allowing you to travel through the shifting baby-blue tunnel of her shirt as she lifts you above her head. A click of a hook and the thump of fabric on the ground, following by the swish of straps rolled around Carly’s mighty thighs, and it’s all gone. The obstructions lie in a flowing heap around her ankles.

            Your goddess, naked as the day she was created, her muscular curves glistening with the rising steam of the bathwater, smiling so benevolently at you that it could almost be a wet dream.

            But it’s no dream. It hasn’t been for a long time.

            “Well…” she murmurs privately into your ear, her warm breath sticky on the inside of your ear. “…shall we?”

            “Please,” you beg softly in a single syllable. The yearning in your throat is palpable. It’s impossible to peel your eyes away from the sight of her: every tanned inch toned and sculpted by hours of work and play, every square inch dedicated to controlling your existence and making it pure. Her breasts, perhaps the only truly “modest” part of Carly’s body by comparison, still make for immense dunes below, her nipples already hardening in the steamy atmosphere up here.

            “Then why don’t you tell me how the water is?” she chuckles.

            The majestic, bronzed tower of Carly’s bared body bows down over the porcelain rim of the tub. The water level, now risen up nearly to the shallowest end, churns smoothly with the lingering ripples from the crashing faucet. Her fingers cage briefly around you as her arm dips toward the warm pond, and then her palm tips, surprising you. Your mild shock is fleeting, though, as your roll off your sister’s inviting palm and plop into the water a mere six inches below.

            For just a few bizarre instants, you’re submerged in the blurred void of the water. You dare to open your eyes, treading in place as you orient yourself to the glow of the bathroom lights above. Through the lingering ripples from your tiny plunge, light refracting through the rotating pool, you can still easily make her out. Carly’s glorious body, highlighted against the backdrop of the ceiling in a blurred halo. You can’t quite make out the features of her face from down here below the water, but you can certainly trace the line up the terrain of her sturdy thighs, the rippled cliffside of her abdomen, the curves of her breasts, and the flowing mane of her hair as she lets it down around her shoulders. Standing defiantly above you in your miniature world of water, watching over you.

            She is your Deity, now and forever. There’s no other way around it.

            Able to withstand the wait no longer, you swim for the surface. Cresting through the shifting meniscus of the drawn bath, you’re just in time to wipe the water from your eyes and watch the cascading visage of Carly’s massive bare sole descending on you. She’s getting in. And she’s smiling. You only just have time to let your vision wander past the perfectly curved end of her heel, up her impressively jutting calves, and along the underside of her thigh toward the place where the sun, at least on her, most certainly shines. A second later, her toes crash head-long into your body, submerging you once again with a forceful splash.

            You’re dragged far deeper into the water than on your initial entry. Per their usual practice, Carly’s toes wrestle your limbs into the fleshy wedges between each digit. Just how both of you like it. You’re hopelessly leg-locked, your cheek squeezed to the doughy tip of her big toe as her entire foot carries you deeper and deeper into the tub. All around you is simply grooved sole muscle and torrents of steamy tub water. Through the rush of bubbles, you can make out the white floor of it getting nearer and nearer, jumping your heart into your throat.

            Expertly, though, Carly’s heel catches her foot first, allowing her toes to hover a few inches above the bottom, still with you clenched lovingly in her digits. As you knew she would. Another rush of bubbles beyond where you’ve come to rest results in another monument joining your sunken state as your sister steps fully into the bath and lowers her entire naked form down into its depths.

            You’re relieved of the crushing blue as both of your sibling’s feet glide along the curved walls of the tub, meeting up at the opposite end and drawing you up out of it. Wheezing only briefly for air, you recompose, knowing Carly would never have held you down there longer than you could handle it. Already you’re growing colder with exposure to the open air after those long, winding seconds of your sister standing on you in the warm water. Longingly, you wrap your arms around Carly’s big and second toes, gleaning warmth from her slick skin.

            “Looks like somebody’s getting the idea already,” Carly giggles as she rests her head back against opposite corner of the long tub, stretching her six-foot frame out to its full and glorious mass. Her toes grind playfully around you, the digits of her other foot crossing over and joining in. She passes you between each of her feet, her supple toes taking turns spreading you out and hugging you into the squishy folds of flesh for heat.

            Like islands, her knees bob just above the surface of the water, before the insistent hills of her breasts rise up again from the water further beyond. You’re fairly certain you could spend days watching the stray droplets of water running lazily down the nape of her neck, over the generous curve of her engorged tits, and into the valley that waits between.

            “You could say that,” you mumble gratefully as your arms and legs are grappled between Carly’s left and right big toes, leaving your humorously tiny, erect member exposed between.

            “I could say anything I want to you,” your goddess of a sister reminds you, eying your pathetic prize between your legs as she brandishes you between her toes. “For example, right now I’m saying come to me and say a nice big thank-you to your big sissy for keeping you so clean.”