My Obnoxious Brother
By guardian46w
Illustration By Unknown
Story codes: FM/m, bondage, hogtie, leather, collar, mask, breath, tease, tickle, torment, X
Note:
If this story sounds familiar, it’s probably because you may, as I have, a recollection of an illustration of a leather mummified man accompanied by a very short story about a sister framing her brother for something she’d done and her parents allowing her to punish him. (Had to be on DeviantArt somewhere but I can’t find it. Let me know it you do.)
When I came across a photo in my downloads, while looking for something else, I immediately thought it needed a story and thought of the brother/sister story. This is my version.
(If you know the source of the photo, please let me know. Thanks.)
“Hey, who is that on the floor in basement?” Randall asked. He looked confused and stunned.
Randall is my fiancé. We’ve been engaged for two months but haven’t set the date for our wedding, yet. We might be a little young; I’m 22 and Randall is 23 but we’re both sensible people and Randy is kind and considerate and I’ve grown to love him very much.
Today, we’re at my house going through my stuff and getting ready to start packing to move to Randall’s apartment. My parents happen to be away, traveling and celebrating their fortieth anniversary. Mom has assured me she’ll be back in plenty of time to start planning my wedding (she wants it soon, Randy and I want it later).
“Oh, that’s my little brother,” I casually replied.
“That’s Michael? Why is he tied up like that?
“He’s a pest. He’s rude and obnoxious. He was ragging on me and said some things and I zapped him with my little pocket taser.”
“And you tied him up?” Randall asked.
“Yeah, he deserves it.”
“It looked really severe, even painful. And that mask? Can he breathe?”
“The valve is only closed half way. If he doesn’t exert himself struggling and get all out of breath, he’ll be okay. He’s worn it before.”
“What?” Randall looked astonished. “You’ve done this to him before?”
“Oh, yeah, a lot of times. I think he likes it. He even gets a hard-on.”
“How long has he been like that? Shouldn’t you let him out?”
I glanced at my phone, “You’ve been here about twenty minutes, so it’s been around thirty-five minutes since I tased him.
“It looked so tight and uncomfortable. I think you should let him loose.”
“Nah,” I said, “He’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not punishment if he’s enjoying it and it’ll probably be at least another thirty minutes before his ‘enjoyment’ goes away. If you know what I mean?”
“Well …”
“Hey, did he see you?” I asked, grinning at the idea that popped into my head.
“Um, I don’t think so. I heard this wheezing, rasping sound and looked through the doorway. His back was to me.”
“Alright! Want to go down and play with him? I can put the caps over the mask’s lenses and he’ll never know you’re there, if you’re quiet.”
“What do you mean ‘play’ with him?”
“You know, tickle him, squeeze his balls, fiddle with the air valve. That sort of thing; it’ll be fun.”
“Uh, I don’t know. It doesn’t seem…”
“Oh, come on,” I interrupted. He’s probably getting bored just laying there. It’ll be fun for him too.”
“Well… er… I…”
“Oh, I do it to him all the time. I even make him cum in his shorts.” Then I added, “And tormenting him makes me so hot I’ll probably have to rape you right there on the basement floor.”
I think Michael enjoyed it as much as we did. Randy got into the spirit, pulling up Michael’s shirt to get at his bare ribs. I wriggled my fingers under the leather strap and into his arm pits. I rubbed his throbbing hard-on through his shorts and screwed the breathing valve nearly closed. Randy would open it almost as soon as I got it closed until I elbowed him in the ribs and told him he had to count to ten, slowly, before he could open it.
I’m pretty sure Michael figured out there was more than just me tormenting him. You know, more than two hands tickling him at the same time, and Randy couldn’t keep from giggling.
We played with Michael for a good fifteen or twenty minutes. By the time Michael shot his creamy cum in his shorts, Randy and I had stripped down to our underwear. We were playing with each other as much as with Michael. Randy was amazed that Michael could get off while in such severe bondage.
I betting Michael enjoyed the sounds of Randy screwing my brains out right there on the floor next to him. At least, by the time we’d recovered enough to notice, he was tenting his shorts, again.
Before we left him to go to my bedroom (leaving our clothes strewn around the basement floor), I tightened Michael’s elbow strap, the chest strap, and the collar, one notch each and screwed the breathing valve back down to halfway. He groaned and tried to concentrate on controlling his breathing but he didn’t lose his hard-on.
As Randy and I snuggled together in my bed, he propped himself up on one arm, slid his free hand up to my right breast and began fingering my nipple. “Hun,” he began, “If I’m ever rude and obnoxious, you wouldn’t use that little taser on me, would you?” He grinned as if making a joke.
I set my face and tried to make my voice sound deadly serious, “Not until after we’re married.” I could tell by his expression he wasn’t so sure I was kidding. Then I grinned and said, “And for your wedding present, I’ll get you a standard size one.”
He scooped me up in a tight hug and kissed me hard, deep, and long.