Learning A Lesson

In my sophomore year in college, my younger sister, Sally, began to come into her own. However, that was accompanied by a great deal of attitude. She was a senior in high school and applying to colleges. My mental picture of her is of a skinny stick with a mop of blond hair. I discovered on my return home for summer break that she had developed into a young woman. Her friends were on the same track. Unfortunately, when they got together, the attitude was beyond control.

Since my parent's place was a large house with room to spare, Sally and her friends were over all the time. We also had a pool in which they spent every summer hour lounging. I would often check out my sister's friends and flirt with them. This aggravated my sister to no end. She would call me a loser, a pervert or some other kind word and tell me to get a girlfriend. My comments back were usually about her physical development or lack of maturity. Then would come the squirting of the suntan lotion (if not the throwing of the whole bottle), the garden hose and me tossing her (or both of us) into the pool. When I first got home for break, this was a good-natured thing that ended up with everyone laughing. But as the summer progressed, things began to change.

It was not just by the pool that her attitude was becoming more obnoxious. It would happen when we were watching TV, or at the store, but especially when we were hanging out with friends or at parties. Finally, it got so bad, I decided that I began to make a point of avoiding her altogether. However, since we lived together, it was impossible not to have some contact. She seemed to be going out of her way to find things to fight about. She would come find me, with friends in tow and start an argument, provoke trouble and in general be a big pain in the ass. I tried ignoring her until it got too bad. If my parents were there, I would retreat to their company. If not, I would go to my room. Soon enough, my room was not even safe. She would barge in and start bitching about something. If the door was locked, she would pound on it until I answered. At the end of my rope, I began locking her in the bathroom or the garage, which ever was closer. I would throw her out the front door and lock it. This was only a temporary reprieve. As soon as she was free, she would start again.

The final straw came one Friday night when I was at home. I wanted to watch a boxing match on pay-per view. She started in as soon as the match began. I don't even remember what it was about. Her two closest friends Megan and Rose were, as usual, standing behind her and giggling. She stood right between the television and me in her nightshirt and panties shouting about something. I told her to get out of the way. She said the magic words: "Make me!" So I threw her out the front door and locked it. I flashed the lights on and off in front of the house. Her friends were jumping on me trying to get the door open and she was pounding on it and screaming. My parents were out as they usually were on Friday night so I was able to keep her out for several minutes. She finally ran around the back and came in screaming. She approached me and took a swing.

Let me give you a bit of detail on our physical makeup. I am 6'2" and around 200 pounds. I run track and box at school. She is 5'5", eighty pounds soaking wet (more or less). Much of that weight seems to have centered in her new breasts.

Her punch hit my chest and cracked her knuckles. She hollered in pain, then tried to kick me in the nuts. I grabbed her foot and made her dance on one leg. Her friends were laughing and shouting encouragement to her. She, on the other hand had lost her sense of humor and control. She was screaming at me and flailing in the air like a wild woman. So I dumped her on her ass. The shock of the landing shut her up. She stood up shaking with anger. Her two friends were in stitches. This infuriated her even worse. She grabbed a vase of the bar counter and hurled it at me. I was able to fend it off with my arm but it cut my elbow slightly. The vase smashed against the front door and showered me with shards.

Now it was my turn to loose my temper. I was across the floor fast. Her eyes were huge as she watched me coming. She was rooted with fear. I grabbed her with both hands and snatched her in the air. "You are in deep shit little girl!" I whispered.

I threw her across the room onto the couch where she landed with a bounce. She had barely finished bouncing when I was on her. Her friends were now staring at the unfolding scene with jaws slack. I flipped her on her stomach and began to tickle her. She squirmed and squealed as I probed her ribs, under her arms and along her stomach. "I am going to tickle you until you pee your little panties you bad girl!"

I was crazed. All my anger was going into tickling her. Several weeks of nagging and bitching and I had finally snapped. She tried to shield herself with her arms and legs but I would not be denied. She began to gasp and turn red. Finally, she peed. Tears were running down her cheeks. But I was not satisfied. She had really pushed my button. I snatched her up, still peeing and placed her across my knees. She was making noises but was unable to speak intelligibly. I hardly noticed her efforts to get free. I raised my hands and slapped it hard across her ass. That cleared her head. She let go of a high sharp yelp. My hand dropped again. Again, she yelped. Again and again I spanked her fanny. Her yelps began to change to "ohs". I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. The "ohs" built and she finally said "Oh God!.....Oh my God!"

Oh my God indeed! She was having an orgasm! It felt like a physical shock when I fully comprehended what was going on. I stopped spanking her. Sure enough she was shaking and cumming on my lap with a bone rattling orgasm. Then I noticed my erection poking her in the stomach.

From the moment she had thrown the vase, the whole incident had taken less than three minutes. I had spanked her less than twenty times. Those three minutes would change our lives.

She started crying. I remembered her friends were in the room. They were in total shock. Nobody could speak. Sally got up off my lap and walked towards her friends. She turned around and looked at me. What a mess. Her hair was matted and sticking up, her makeup was smeared all over her face. Her shirt and panties were stained with urine and it was running down her legs. She was trying to control her sobbing. I suddenly came back to my senses. It felt like a moment of insanity had passed.

"Oh Sally, I'm sorry." That's all I could manage to say.

Her anger was vanquished. She just looked hurt and scared. Suddenly all the memories of her as a sweet, little girl came back to me. What had I just done to my little sister? And in front of her friends? I started to get up and go give her a hug. Then I felt my erection. I feebly placed my hands in my lap. She sat there staring at each other. Both of us were trying to recalibrate our reality to what had just happened. One of her friends was staring at the floor, the other at my erection, which showed no signs of abating. This made me feel queasy. Hours of time passed in a matter of seconds. The evening began a year ago. I desperately wanted it to end.

Sally sniffed and looked down. My body relaxed as we broke eye contact.

"I'll get you back somehow," she said.

She turned and walked away with her friends in tow. The words rang in my ears. They broke one spell but cast another. It was the way she said it. There was no anger or energy in her words. There was an indefinable quality to it. It was almost as if she was telling me that she was sorry in advance for what was going to happen. That, somehow, this thing that had started this night would continue. That we were now into something together that had to be played out. She turned and walked around the corner. I listened to them until I heard her door close.

My erection subsided. I stood up and looked around the room. The couch with the stain, the broken vase shards, the dent in the door, the blood on my arm and shirt. Again, a wave of revulsion washed over me.

Later, after I repaired and cleaned everything as best I could, I climbed up the stairs towards my bedroom. There was no sound coming out of my sister's room. This was enough to make me extremely suspicious and worried. There should at least be music or talking. Something. I stood outside the door listening. I wanted to go in and talk to her. I couldn't think of where to begin. After a long moment, I went to bed.

That night, I dreamed of the smell of urine. I was suffering from a painful erection. One of the couch pillows was on my face. There were hands holding it there. I felt another pair of hands on my chest, pinning me. I heard giggling. Another set of hands pulled down my underwear. One hand went to my erection, the other to my balls. A finger and thumb tried to circle the base of my erection and stroked up. I woke up and the dream dissolved. However, the hand was still there.

"Sally?"

To be continued...