You open your eyes suddenly as you come to, gagging as your lungs force out the inevitable throatfuls of your sister’s sea of spit you swallowed while beginning the long, unfortunate slide down her digestive tract.  You blink a few times, wiping the gritty, yellowish goop of Carly’s phlegm coating the back of her throat out of your eyes and stare upward.  You’re resting on the dorm table again, and your sister is wiping her lips, coughing lightly after having forced herself to puke you back up.

                You gulp hard.  You’re still alive, but it doesn’t change the fact of what just happened prior to your being upchucked back to the land of the living.  Carly didn’t just swish you around and play tongue hockey using you as the puck.  She swallowed you.  She honest-to-goodness swallowed you.  Your little sister actually just ate you in one pathetic, insignificant, humiliating slimeball of a bite as if your life meant nothing.

                With a sarcastic groan, you realize that you just found the answer to the issue on your own with that last little statement.

                You, yourself, feel a bit like vomiting at this moment.  Slowly, the tears begin flowing again, and you have to choke back the sobs in your throat.  You don’t particularly care about anything right now.  All you want is to feel safe again.  Your eyes shift over to the bedside clock.

                8:52 pm.  The video goes live in 8 minutes.

                Something’s wrong with you as you stare at the clock.  You don’t feel the kind of gleeful anticipation you felt two days ago while creating the computer program intended to save you from your sibling-mandated slavery at Carly’s hands.  You don’t feel joy or elation at the mere idea of being rescued soon.  You don’t feel relief to think of Carly’s life as she knows it coming to a halt as everyone she knows gets ahold of that video and becomes wise to her five-year-long crimes.

                Instead, you feel something else.  As usual, it’s hard to put your finger on, as you constantly feel such a mixed rush of adrenaline and confused emotions, but all at once it becomes clear to you, and it makes your arm hair stand on end, your spine freeze, your fingers curl, your eyes bug, and your throat go dry.  You tremble.

                What you feel is remorse for blackmailing Carly.

                Gently, your sister’s colossal fingers wrap themselves under your back, scooping you up into her warm palm as she stands up slowly, looking down at you with far more concern and care than you normally see, except when she’s trying to play mind games with you.  But somehow, this is different.  It looks almost genuine this time, as if she semi-gives a crap about your wellbeing.

                “Are you okay, little bro?” coos your sister.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you too badly.  Please say something.”

                “C-Carly…” you croak, unsure of what exactly it is you want to say as you sprawl helplessly in the familiar, wide palm of your sibling.

                “Okay, good, you can still breathe. You don’t have to say anything, I know it hurts.  And I’m so, so sorry that I had to do that to you,” she apologizes.  You squint at your sister’s enormous face, searching for a sign of sarcasm or malice concealed in a dimple or a nostril flare.

                You see nothing.  Your sister seems to be trying to make legitimate amends for the moment, although you remain on your guard; every time Carly puts up the “nice” act, it’s always simply connecting means to an end, and while she’s a bit harder to read than usual right now, you remain confident that this is still the case.  It must be.

                “But I know you understand,” she continues softly, seemingly to avoid harming your eardrums.  “I only do those kinds of things to you because… well, because I love you.  A lot.  And all I want is for you to love me back.  So, tell me, little bro.  Do you love me?”

                You are silent as your thoughts begin racing wildly.

                “I know it hurts, but I want you to answer me.  Just nod your head yes or no.  Do… you… love me?” your sister asks brightly and slowly enough for you to grasp each heavy word.  Comfortingly, Carly brings the pointer finger of her other hand up to you and begins stroking along your stomach and chest with the utmost tenderness.  “C’mon, little guy, I know you can do it.  Just nod.  Nod for big sissy.”

                Swallowing, with nothing else to do, you nod “yes” for Carly to plainly see.

                “I’m so glad,” she whispers happily.  “And I know something else about you, too.  Maybe you don’t know it yet, but I do.  I’m going to explain it to you right now so you’ll understand…” begins Carly, sighing sweetly and innocently.  “You belong with me.  Forever.  This is where you’re going to stay for the rest of your life.  With me.  Where I want you, when I want you, how I want you.  And you know it, too…” she drawls slowly, taking another deep breath before opening her lips with a soft pop again.  “DON’T you, little bro?”

                Your brain feels like it’s caught on fire.  Something seems to be going incredibly wrong, as if every system in your body was malfunctioning and altering to a completely opposite position, and yet it all seems to still tick harmoniously.  It confuses you feeling like you’re about to shut down at any instant and yet you don’t.  Like a ticking time bomb that just reached zero and hasn’t blown up yet.  Without warning, this feeling of brokenness and fear begins to crack away from your hardened surface and fade softly into something unexpected.  It’s bravely new and confounding to you, but what you recognize above all else is that it feels right in your heart and mind.  Correct, even.  The emotions and logic swimming freely in your head all seem to have melded together into one freakish contraption that wouldn’t make the slightest bit of sense to anyone in the world except you, and perhaps Carly.  Like a language all your own that only you can translate and speak with perfect ease, in free fall amongst the crackling synapses and nerves of your teetering brain.  No more guilt, sorrow, loss, heartbreak, rage, terror, wistfulness, or pain.  All of these dark and painful distractions to your happiness and contentment with existence seem to simultaneously melt away as your titanic sister’s warm, heartfelt words sink into your skin.  You physically shiver, still trying to find your way through the foggy maze of all these new thoughts, and yet somehow you know exactly what you should do.  What you have to do.  What you need to do in order to continue on living.

                “Yes,” you say simply without an ounce of pain in your voice.

                Carly murmurs, closing her eyes and lowering her lips to you.  With incredible gentleness, your sister plants a soft, sticky kiss on your torso, popping gingerly on your skin as she lifts away and studies you again with opened eyes, her lips curled upward into the most joyous smile you’ve ever seen on her face.  It’s not like normal: there’s no sadism or sheer, bratty condescension in her smile as she glares down at your puny body laying helplessly in her hand, at her utter mercy.  Instead, it’s happiness.  Pure, unadulterated glee and almost thankfulness to some higher power.

                Blinking, you notice something else.  It’s Carly’s large, baby blue eyes glistening.  Not with an evil, scheming gleam as per usual.  Instead, it’s water.  Salty, sparkling beacons of joy.  Your sister is crying.  Slowly, several of her tears dribble down her rosy cheeks and down her chin.  She sniffles happily, coughing and grinning, seeming almost out of her element and unsure of how to proceed.

                “It’s okay, little bro.  You don’t have to be afraid of me anymore,” she giggles elatedly.  “I was confused about it for a long time, too.  I mean, we’re brother and sister.  We’re supposed to like each other.  But we never did back then when you were normal.  I hated you, you hated me… it was awful.  It was stupid, and I wanted it to be different.  And you know why it was like that?” she coos.

                You shake your head no, in a complete mist of non-comprehension of the situation beyond the words being spoken to you.

                “God messed up,” Carly explains cheerfully and rationally.  “He made us brother and sister at first, and that didn’t work.  That’s why He fixed you and made you smaller five years ago.  That’s why we’re here, together, now and always, like this.  You were never meant to be my brother, and I was never meant to be your sister.  You were meant to be my… well, my person.  My little, tiny, toy person.  My pet.  And me… I was supposed to be your goddess.”

                You swallow, shifting your position in your sister’s steady hand slightly as you process the words without a single bit of reproach in your mind.

                “Don’t you see?” Carly pleads, almost begging you to grasp her viewpoint.  “Don’t you understand now, Jack?  Why you can’t go back, ever?  No one would understand this.  Understand… us.”  Why we’re supposed to be together like this.  They wouldn’t like it, and they’d take you away from me.  We’d never be together again.  And you don’t want that, do you, little guy?” she pleads.

                You shake your head “no.”

                “Neither do I,” continues your sister.  “I love you too much.  Not in a gross way, obviously.  The way I love you is… so much better than the way Mom loves Dad.  I love you because you’re mine.  And that’s all there is to it.  You’re mine, forever, for whatever I want you for.  And you… love me… for making you into whatever I want.  Right?”

                You nod affirmatively.

                Carly’s voice drops to a whisper as her lips lower closer to your body: “All of this.  The way we live, what I give you, what you give me… all of it would be gone in a second if you went back home, away from me.  It’s too late for that.  We’re here now, and all we can do is just keep living like this, Jack.  For as long as we both are alive, we have to.  I know we do.  I never want to let you go again, ever.  You’re my drug, little guy, and I think as long as we’re together, I’ll be high… on you.”

                You swallow, nodding understandably.

                “And as for you…” she continues.  “I know I used to scare you.  You used to hate me.  You used to feel embarrassed by everything I made you do.  You used to hurt… a lot.  But… but not now.  Not anymore.  Not for a while, actually.  I can see it in your little face.  You try to hide it from me and yourself, but I know it’s there, inside of you.  And I want you to know… it’s okay.”

                “W-What is?” you ask dryly.

                “It’s okay that you like your life with me, Jack.  I know you must’ve been scared to tell me for a long time that you… enjoy… what I do to you.  All of it… every single bit of it.  I know you must’ve been afraid of what I’d do to you if I knew that you actually were being honest every time I’ve made you tell me you enjoy it.  It’s okay, I totally understand,” breathes your sister slowly and clearly, her voice beginning to waver as the tears of bliss continue rolling wetly down her tanned cheeks.  “But I know now, and you know I know.  And there’s no need for you to be scared anymore, because I’m okay with it.  I… actually like it.  I love it, even.  Just as much as you, probably more than you actually.  I swear, I’ll never make fun of you for it, because there’s nothing wrong with it.  At all.  And now, for as long as you want me to do something to you…” she breathes, taking a seat on the bed cross-legged, “…you can ask me.  And I promise, I’ll do it until we’re both satisfied.”

                Slowly, your sister lays her palm flat on the bed in front of her, allowing you to roll out onto the fabric of the bedspread.  As you steadily regain your strength, you pull yourself up and stare straight ahead at Carly’s right foot: bare, peachy, and wrinkled as can be, her toes arching slowly in rhythm, her creamy sole laying as a soft, barren plain of angelic flesh.

                You clamber forward, staggering to a standing position, your breath catching in your chest.

                “Go ahead, my little man,” your sister encourages sweetly and softly.  “Believe me.  You don’t have to be embarrassed anymore about it.  About the way I make you feel.  The world out there doesn’t understand you and your feelings.  But I do.  Big sissy does.  And I swear, as long as you’re with me… as long as you’re mine… I’ll do everything I can to make you feel the way you crave.  Now go ahead.”

                You look up at Carly, somewhat confused as to what she’s suggesting.  “You m-m-mean…” you stutter slowly, not sure of how to say it.

                Your younger sister nods, knowing precisely what you’re going to say.  “That’s exactly what I mean, Jack.  Please believe me.  I love you so much, and I want you to be happy with me.  That’s all I’ve ever wanted.  Now do it.  I know what you need, so what are you waiting for?”

                Without dawdling for any more prompting from your sister or trying to think over the implications of what you’re doing, you take a few steps forward and wetly kiss Carly’s plump middle toe lightly, closing your eyes and savoring the salty, fleshy flavor.  Finishing a long smack, you take a step back and stare up at your sister.  She cocks her head at you, raising an eyebrow and sighing.

                “You still don’t believe me, huh, Jack?  After all this time we’ve spent together, you still don’t trust me when I tell you that I accept you for the little bug of a person you are and that you can play with me however you want?” she coos, slowly parting her middle and fourth toes ever so slightly and tapping gently at the space in between with a fingertip.  “So I’ll get you started so we can get past all the awkward stuff.  Stick your teensy weensy cock right in there and get it while it’s hot.”

                Feeling goose bumps ripple along your skin, you swallow hard and step forward.  By doing this of your own free will, you realize you are admitting with great finality that you do, indeed, believe every last insane thing your sister spouted just now.  You recognize whole-hearted and sarcastically that this situation could not possibly become any more fucked up unless it involved time-traveling, singing animals, and magic, and yet you can’t possibly pull yourself away from the sight before you.

                Your sister’s wall of a foot towering before you: so beautiful, pure, and sweet.  Flawless.  Like the forbidden fruit, hanging in the tree of the Garden of Eden.  You so desperately want to know what it feels like now.  Obviously, you’ve been subjected to it on innumerable occasions against your will, but this is far different.  This is a question of your quickly crumbling liberty of self and asking yourself what you’re willing to do to deny your true twisted nature.  You reach forth, caressing the space between Carly’s toes with one of your hands and feeling a warm shiver rush over your body.  Her skin is so soft and tender, scented lightly of stale sweat and bubbly fruit body wash.  An immaculate massage that practically makes your genitals tingle just to imagine so sinfully.  You gulp again to yourself, feeling your resolve weakening and your erection growing embarrassingly rapidly.

                Hoping that God isn’t watching, you take the metaphorical forbidden fruit and slip your dick between your sister’s two massive, bulbous toes.  Satisfied, Carly gently caves her other toe on top of it, sandwiching it meekly but carefully between her firm, gripping digits.  You gasp delightedly at the shooting, tingling sensation and absence of revulsion you feel at your corrupted self for this.  You shed the few remaining tears of embarrassment and soiled dignity you have left as you tightly grasp your sister’s mammoth toes, jerking up and down as you jack yourself pleasurably into the fleshy crevice of her foot.  Carly’s toes squeeze aggressively against you, pulsing warmly around your dick, causing you to wheeze meekly and break out in a sweat at the subconscious fear that she’ll accidentally snap this vital organ right off of your body in the fleshy carnage, but somehow you know this won’t happen.  You trust your sister’s control of the situation and know no real harm will come to you.

                Your warm-up time is shockingly short as you are brought to exploding orgasm, convulsing weakly and flopping down onto the bed before Carly’s tanned ped, much in the same way it happened five years ago when your sister’s foot first stole your virginity.  Giggling, Carly’s fingers slip under your body and lift you up to her face as she climbs off of the bed and ambles to the laptop at the desk.

                “Good?” your sister questions at you simply in a whisper as she busily begins tapping at letters on the keyboard and clicking around with the mouse pad.

                “Y-Y-Yes…” you gasp, still trying to recover from the single greatest feeling of sexual euphoria you’ve ever so wrongfully allowed to consume your corpus.

                “Good.  That makes me happy,” your sister confirms with a nod, licking her lips carnally.  “And guess what?  You can do that as often… as… you… want…” tempts Carly slowly.  “Not just there.  Anywhere you want.  Hell, anything you want me to do for you, I can, within reason, obviously.  Things are different now, I promise, because you finally understand.  It took you five years, but I know that you aren’t just telling me what I want to hear now, you know it’s true, too.  You belong to me.  You are mine.  From the second you were born, you were always destined to be here, in my hand, under my foot, in my mouth.  Mine.  Forever.”

                “T-Thank… y-you,” you cough in disbelief, still not understanding why all this is happening so fast, but only realizing that you don’t want any of it to stop for all the world.

                “You’re welcome.  But now,” your sister snaps slightly.  “I’ve done something for you.  It’s time for you to do something… for me,” she drawls, finally bringing up a window on the computer screen representing the interface for your program.  It’s of simple design, with a countdown timer reading “2 minutes, 36 seconds remaining” with a password bar underneath, along with a link to pages upon pages of code you composed especially for this devious blackmailing plot.  “I found this ticking at the bottom of the screen and figured we need it to make sure our lives don’t go back to the stupid, horrible way they used to be.  Looks like there’s room for 9 letters, Jack.  Now what are they?  Hurry, the clock’s running low.”

                Your throat seeming to dry again, you answer implicitly without a second thought or any conception of what’s going to happen next.  “APHRODITE,” you spit robotically as Carly obediently and accurately types out the letters of the ironic password.

                With a satisfied smile, Carly clicks the enter key just as the clock hits “1 minute, 46 seconds” and freezes in place, the code running through hundreds of complex lines of functions and essential programs.  An internet browser and Carly’s email pop-up as the program invades these, pulling the video once and for all off of cyberspace and away from the prying eyes of the internet or Carly’s friends and family.  You watch as the program fades to black, digitally sealing your ultimate fate.

                It’s finished.