Punishing the Brats

Though seeing her for the delicate little princess she was, only made him want to have her more. To sully that pristine look of hers, to get her beneath him and make her sweat in other ways, make her scream for him as he had her pinned.

Oh, the number of times he’d kept her tiny form pinned beneath his broad, hard muscular physique… and he’d never even thought to take advantage of that? Seemed crazy to him now, his little sister was all he could think on. All he wanted, and knowing he’d had her pressed to him, beneath him, so many times felt like a world of lost opportunities.

He was lost in his own world as she dominated the floor beneath, her motions so fluid and supple as she spread and displayed herself for the crowd. For him.

And when she slid into a long, slow splits, he felt that throbbing in his pants more insistently. She bobbed a few times once she hit the bottom, going lower and lower before she arched her back, reaching for her back leg.

She stayed like that for what felt like eternity. Her legs spread so wide, her back arching and showing off her little chest, her blonde hair still held tightly in its prissy bun. But Zach could envision it loose, tickling her bare leg.

He throbbed again and he knew he needed some relief, but he was surrounded by people.

Slowly, Sylvia righted herself to a standing position, instead lifting her right leg upwards, and he swore he could see the outline of her puffy little flower.

He got up, pushing himself through the stadium seats, past the other onlookers. He had to get out of there!

But when he got to the staircase, he had to look back. She was twirling again and then the music came to a crescendo and she finished her final flip to loud applause. Her smiling face went around the crowd before landing right on him, stood transfixed on the stairs.

Her smile faltered, and Zach turned his back, rushing to the men’s room.

* * *

Sylvia

She didn’t ask him about it, even once she got home, but every time she looked at him, she wondered why he was there. What he wanted. Was he just trying to make fun of her?

In all five years, he’d never watched her perform, and with her parents out on vacation, he had no reason to. It wasn’t like they forced him, that was sure. So why?

She couldn’t puzzle it out.

It was a Friday night, not that it meant much. School was out, and in two months they were both headed to college. Until then, weekdays and weekends were the same thing.

She laid back on the couch, watching a movie and just trying to relax when Zach walked into the room, then turned to leave.

That was odd. Most of the time he’d just come in, demand the remote, then chase her out of the den. He returned a few minutes later, though, with two glasses in hand, offering her one.

“To having the house to ourselves,” he said, his brown eyes intent upon her. Sylvia muted the TV as she sat up, taking the wine with a raised brow.

“Dad’ll kill you if you’re drinking the good stuff,” she warned him and he just shrugged.

“Let him kill me. You deserve to take a load off.”

That was weird.

She decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth though, and took a long sip of the wine with a soft sigh of pleasure. Her shoulders rolled, she stretched her neck as the liquid worked through her.

“That’s pretty good,” she said, not wanting to over inflate his already huge ego.

“Yea,” he said, taking a mouthful of his own, though Sylvia doubted he even tasted it. He swallowed it too fast, not even enjoying the flavour. That was the difference between a refined gymnast and a burly football player, she reminded herself.

She still didn’t move her feet from the couch, though, not offering him a place to sit as she sipped her drink again. He stood, looming over her, watching.

“You got a kink in your shoulder?” he asked as she stretched her neck again. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it, and gave a little shrug.

“I guess,” she said, bringing her finger to a particularly troublesome spot. Her blonde tresses were tied back into a ponytail, and she rubbed her neck gently as she sipped the wine.

“Here,” he said, laying down his glass on the coffee table, “let me.”

It was something Sylvia never expected to hear from her brother, and she immediately suspected he was up to something. Instead, his two huge mitts went to her dainty shoulders and began to rub at them with strong, careful motions.