A Special Photo Shoot

It looked good. Given its placement, the whip drew the eyes to the curves of her breasts and added more visual appeal to the beautiful young woman. The contrast of the black leather whip with the yellow-dominated pajama shirt also attracted my attention. The result was that I gazed upon Staci's chest for far longer than was appropriate, and once I realized what I was doing, I felt myself blush with embarrassment as I stood and turned away from her in an attempt to hide my shame.

"It's okay," I heard her say softly. Unsure of what she meant, I turned to face her again, even though I could still feel the heat of my blushing.

"I don't mind if you look at me, Brett," my sister clarified. "To be honest, I don't mind if you touch me a little, but nothing significant, okay?"

Her expressive hazel eyes were full of truth and trust. The truth was not a surprise, as the few times I could ever remember her lying to me was to protect a surprise she was preparing for me. Yet the trust...

Her trust touched me deeply. Her trust in me was the reason that she was bound to my bed at all, but the depth of her trust conveyed by her eyes...

Somehow, that trust gave me the strength I needed to reinvigorate my professionalism. I felt the blush dissipating, although I bent over the bed long enough to kiss her forehead, just as I had done with her for so many years. It was a bonding moment which transcended her physical bondage, one which I knew would cause her spirit to soar in that reaffirmation of the connection she and I had shared for more than twenty years.

Only then did I finally retrieve the camera and, starting at the foot of the bed, began to take the photos. The whip's position was changed multiple times upon her chest and then later moved to her groin where it was also featured in multiple positions. I lost track of time, my mind fully focused instead on the lighting, the camera position, occasionally giving her an instruction to create an even better pose for the camera.

And then, the camera set atop the dresser, I sat beside her on the bed again, retrieving the whip and gently dangling its thin strips of leather across her face. Staci smiled at the gesture, and that emboldened me as I dragged those leather strips down her neck, down her chest, and repeatedly brushed them gently and slowly back and forth across her breasts. Her eyes fluttered closed as her head tipped back upon the pillow, her arms pulling against the tethered cuffs, her back arching noticeably, her lips parting. What I was doing to her was clearly arousing for her, and even though she was my sister, even though Staci and I shared the same blood, I felt a sense of pride in being able to give her such a unique, kinky pleasure.

The gentle brushing of her breasts did not last very long -- maybe thirty seconds at most -- but when I finally set the whip beside her on the bed, my sister whimpered sadly, sounding very much like a puppy who wanted to be fed but had no one available to open a bag of dog food. Glancing back to her chest, I noticed a pair of small indentations pressing against the inside of her pajama shirt.

"I guess that really did feel good for you," I said softly, smiling with amusement.

"Yeah..." Her voice was breathy, sultry, almost intimate. She finally opened her eyes and looked up at me again, the trust still prominent within her hazel orbs. "Can we do a few more pictures?" she asked.

"Sure," I replied. "What did you have in mind?"

She hesitated slightly, which was again a significant sign and made me wonder exactly what she had in mind. "Would you unbutton me and do a few with the whip across my naked chest?"

I definitely had not expected that request, not from my own sister. "Are you really sure you want me to see your..." I began, unable to complete the sentence as my mind attempted to reconcile her request with the deeply internalized norms of society.

"I'm sure," she affirmed, adding a slow nod. "Just don't titty-fuck me afterward, okay?"

Time seemed to again slow considerably as I leaned over her. This time, I did not attempt to purposely avoid my sister's breasts. Beginning with the top button, I slowly exposed her feminine parts to my eyes for the very first time, and when the unbuttoned pajama shirt was finally spread open to provide a full view of her uncovered breasts, I was slightly embarrassed by the soft sound of admiration I heard escaping from my own lips.

Staci blushed a little, but otherwise showed absolutely no reaction. Her nipples were still hard little points, fleshy pink pebbles adorning her breasts. To my amazement, she had only the faintest of tan lines indicating that she had ever worn a bra, which made me wonder if she was a regular user of tanning beds or if perhaps she took advantage of the tall fencing surrounding the tiny back yard of the house she shared with Terry to tan topless or even fully nude.

Once again, I became consciously aware of my own arousal. I was also consciously aware of how much I wanted to touch her in an intimate way. Although my hands had done the actual deed, she had bared a significant area of her body to me, and, especially given how long it had been since I had last dated anyone, it was so very tempting to reach to her chest and gently squeeze a breast, or to bend down and take a nipple between my teeth as my tongue brushed over it repeatedly.

Fortunately, I felt society's call, which caused me to turn my attention to the whip instead. Carefully, I placed the whip diagonally across her chest, nestling it between her beautiful breasts, my hand inherently brushing against one of her swells and noting its warmth. My eyes locked with hers, and she smiled slightly as if attempting to reassure me that she did not mind the contact from me, her older brother.

I rose from the bed, retrieved the camera, and was once again at work. Staci looked so beautiful, so vulnerable, so selfless. And amazingly, she appeared to be completely at peace despite being bound to the bedposts with a whip draped across her naked chest.

Finally, the photo shoot was at an end. Setting the whip aside once again, I slowly rebuttoned her pajama shirt, once again rendering my little sister properly clothed in my presence. We shared a long gaze, connecting in a deep, profound way before I leaned toward the headboard to release one of the cuffs.

"Can I just stay like this for a while?" Staci asked. "Please?"

It was a surprising request, but to be honest, I wanted to admire my sister's bound form a little longer anyhow. "Sure," I replied, sitting beside her on the bed and absently caressing her stomach. A few times, I allowed my hand to drift up her body, but only to gently rub her between her breasts, silently letting her know that I wanted to touch her intimately, yet still maintaining a very tenuous modicum of propriety.

Once I did finally release her perhaps twenty minutes later, Staci gave me a long, warm hug. "Thanks," she whispered into my neck. "You really made me feel comfortable through all that. Thank you."

She kissed the side of my neck, which surprised me since she had never previously done that with me. I gave her a squeeze in response, and then we separated. "I can at least help you put everything away," Staci offered.

"Okay," I agreed, somehow certain that the relationship between us had been forever transformed by the events which had just taken place upon my bed.

*****

I maintained a small darkroom in the basement, and that was where Staci and I spent a significant part of the day on Saturday. She had seen me working in a darkroom previously, but she seemed to pay extra attention to what I was doing on this occasion.

When the photos were finished, we took them upstairs to the dining room and spread them out on the table. There were six photos which had ultimately been fully developed, and Staci needed to select the ones she would take with her and frame for her girlfriend's birthday, and indicate which she and I would destroy that evening.

Ultimately, Staci took three photos: one with her fully clothed, and two with her pajama shirt unbuttoned and spread open. I remember thinking to myself that Terry would be an extremely lucky person to receive those photos as a birthday gift.

After dinner, we accomplished the final part of Staci's weekend goal: destroying what she did not want to take with her. Then we went back upstairs and settled on the sofa together to watch a movie streaming from Netflix, and by the time we went to bed, the photo shoot and the photo development had been nearly -- nearly -- forgotten. It was not completely forgotten, however, because in my dreams, I made love to Staci, both while and after she was bound to the bedposts.

*****

Several weeks later, I returned home from the studio to find a package slip in my mailbox. The following morning, I went to the post office to stand in the long line and wait for the package from my sister. Once at the studio, I said hello to the staff and went straight into my office, closing the door behind me to ensure I had some privacy.

The package included a wrapped gift and a card. The front of the card featured artwork of a blindfolded woman bound with rope to a wide tree, her chest reddened as if she had just been whipped for a long period of time. Inside was a short but meaningful message:

Terry loves the pictures! She's promised to tie me down and whip me this weekend!!!

Thanks for the photo shoot and for being so kind and gentle with me. I'm sending along a token of appreciation.

- Staci

With a smile on my face, I took off the wrapping paper to find that something had been surrounded with a lot of bubble wrap. Once that had been removed, I saw that the gift was a framed photo, but a piece of cardboard covered the front. When I carefully peeled back the tape which held the cardboard in place, I gasped aloud in surprise.

It was a picture of my little sister, bound to my bedposts, her pajama shirt unbuttoned, the whip placed diagonally across her chest as she lifted her head and looked at the camera with an expression of longing.

"Wow..." I breathed. I had absolutely not expected this. "Wow..."

After openly admiring my little sister's exposure for several minutes, I finally sent her a text message, one which I knew she would like:

Thanks sis