The Power To Revenge: Hot Sister

Erika had a splendid figure as well. She was tall at 5'7 and had a fit, athletic body that could only be described as perfect—with a waist blessed with graceful curves, long, contoured legs, and large breasts much like her mother. All of these details were however lost or concealed by her professional business suits, but even those couldn't quite hide her gorgeous lines. Rather, these suits gave a tempting hint of what lay beneath, from the tight-fitting blazers that revealed a peek of cleavage and stressed the size of her fulsome breasts to the skirt which ended just above the knees and displayed her lush, creamy legs.

Yes, Erika was a sophisticated dresser, but she was also one hell of a sexy woman.

John's eyes came to rest on his father sitting at the head of the table. Leonard Bernard, or Leon as he preferred, was a quite a strapping man: about six foot three and muscular (he worked out regularly) Mr. Bernard had curly black hair much like son and a handsome, rugged face. Dripping with animal sexuality, Mr. Bernard's exotic good looks and Olympian figure could send quivers of arousal through any woman's body, regardless of her age.

Yes, Mr. Bernard was a well-favoured man, but John had come to learn early in life that his father also had a nasty temper, a temper which could explode at the slightest of annoyances that John or his sisters had committed.

Throughout the entire dinner Mr. Bernard conversed with Lauren, Nicole and Erika, enquiring about their day and taking an interest in everything related to his precious daughters (especially Lauren), but never once did he talk to John or so much as look at him. No, the man had his favourites....

"And what about you John, dear?" asked Mrs. Bernard. "'ow was everything at school today? Did you and your sister behave?

John smiled at his mother's thoughtfulness: she knew he had been feeling left out of the conversation and so expertly shifted the focus to him. "Everything's great," answered John. "Lauren and I—" he looked at his sister for a moment—"yeah....we got along great."

Rose shook her head. Unlike Mr. Bernard (who at forty-two worked at the most law prestigious firm in downtown Montreal and had a wall full of impressive degrees) his uneducated housewife realized that John and Lauren had always despised each other. She would try to ensure good relations between the siblings but such efforts continually proved hopeless. Still, as any good mother she would never give up....

Dinner finished at 7:45 just as it started to rain. Mrs. Bernard, wiping her delicate fingers on a table napkin, turned to Lauren and said, "Darling, please 'elp your brother with the dishes."

"But Mom!" she whined, "I've had a really tough day at school and got a ton of homework. Can't John do the dishes by himself?"

John glared at the bitch.

"Of course he can!" said Mr. Bernard springing up from his chair. "Why don't you go and finish your homework, okay sweetie?"

John watched as his sister bounded upstairs before turning to his father. "Uh, Dad—" There was a nervous dread in his voice. "I have to study for a test...."

"Well you can still do the damn dishes!" Mr. Bernard said gruffly.

"Sure Dad...."

And just like that John was stuck with the dishes while his tramp of a sister escaped with a lie. This happened time and again: Mr. Bernard would give into Lauren's pettiest demands by forcing his son to carry the load, and John was getting tired of it.

As he walked miserably towards the kitchen Rose came up from behind and slid her arms around her son's waist. "Don't worry, John darling," she said with a beautiful smile, "I will 'elp you with the dishes. After all, you are Mommy's dear boy." Mrs. Bernard kissed John on the cheeks, bringing an unintentional blush to his face and a stir in his pants.

And now, reader, we come to a moment in our narrative that forever changed John's life, a moment that gave him the power to revenge himself on his bitch of a sister Lauren, on her best friend Jessica, and on every one of those sneering, contemptuous girls she mingled with at school, along with anyone else who had made his existence a wretched hell....

John was in his room after having finished the dishes and the only emotion in his heart was rage. He paced incessantly back and forth while listening to an iPOD, and outside his window there was a storm rumbling and roaring, the sound of violent winds breaking off tree branches and tossing them along roads, of thunder booming and lighting cracking, the fierce noise of rain hitting windows and cars and pavement. It was like the storm inside of him.

"Fucking bitch...." John muttered, striding back and forth. "...thinks she owns the whole fucking world....Dad doesn't do a fucking thing...always siding with her...if it wasn't for Mom I'd leave this house....bitch of sister needs a thrashing...."

He stopped. The heat in the room was stifling so John took off his sweater. But it wasn't enough, and he decided to open up a window regardless of all the rain. After he flung the window open John stuck out his head and breathed in the cool, rejuvenating air.

"Fucking bitch!" he yelled to the streets. "Lauren, you are a mother-fucking bitch of a sister; you are the worst person in the whole fucking world!" Luckily the storm drowned out his voice, and it also felt nice to experience the cold rain on his face and to see the radiant lighting miles away. "You think I'm your slave, huh Lauren!" he yelled some more. "You think you can just order—"

And that was when John saw a bolt of lightning, bright red in colour, suddenly appear from the dark clouds above, and following a loud burst of thunder it curved through the air and struck him in the face.

John didn't know how long he'd been lying stretched on the floor but it must have been longer than he thought. At least a few hours. The last thing he remembered was a red flash prior to everything going black. He began to get up slowly, sluggishly; his body felt numb in every joint but other than that there was no actual pain, which was unusual since he just got hit by a lightning bolt.

John staggered over to the bedroom mirror and pulled up his white t-shirt. Strange. There were no burn marks on his chest and he looked none the worse, but the iPOD in his hand was dead even though it had been recharged this afternoon. Also, John's head was feeling kind of odd; a feeling he couldn't quite describe....

As this sensation passed John went downstairs to quench the thirst in his mouth. Well, he drank one glass of water followed another, followed by five more, before finally deciding to go back up to his room. When he arrived at his door John noticed something about Lauren's room at the far end of the hall: the light was on.

Is she really doing homework? he asked himself. Does she ever? No, that can't be it....

He went to investigate.

Standing in front of her room, John thought he could hear some muffled voices coming from inside. But his sister was supposed to be alone....

He knocked on her door.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Still no reply.

This time John slowly opened the door and went inside.

"Of course I'll be thinking about you tonight. Yeah, love you too...Bye," said Lauren, taking off her headset and turning off her computer monitor. She stood up from her comfortable leather chair and turned around, stunned to see John at her door.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room!" she asked with a hateful bark. "Did I say you could come in!"

For a moment John couldn't answer because he had just seen what Lauren was wearing. His sister was dressed in a black babydoll nightie of semi-transparent fabric, and along with this she wore a pair of matching gloves which extended to the elbows but left her slender fingers uncovered.

Wow, he thought, I can see through her lingerie!

Indeed he could: through the delicate material of his sister's nightie John could make out her black bra and panties underneath, darker in shade though visible within the silken mesh of almost transparent fabric. The low bust of Lauren's nightie revealed the abundant cleavage of her c-cup breasts while the hemline ended just above mid-thigh, exposing her long legs of perfect cream. In fact, because his twin sister's skin was so lush and her hair a dazzling blonde, the black material of her lingerie complimented her to a fault.

But why was she dressed like that and who had she been talking to? Could it have been her sexy lesbian friend, Jessica Cambers?

After a moment John's voice returned. "I did knock," he replied. "Twice. But you didn't answer so I let myself in."

"Why the hell are you here?"

For some reason John was getting nervous because of his sister's hostile language, even though he was the one who had the right to be furious. "It's nothing bad, okay?" he stammered. "I just went downstairs for a drink and when I came up I saw the light to your room was on. Being your brother I was naturally worried, but when I knocked twice on your door and you didn't answer I came in—but it was only because I was concerned about you, that's all."

"I'm not some fucking kid who needs to be taken care of!" Lauren replied, folding her arms under her breasts and darting the most resentful glare at her brother. "Unless I give you permission to enter my room then don't fucking come in."

John was now livid. After all, he had just come to check on his sister and make sure she was okay (well, also to spy on her—but she didn't need to know that). All those years of suppressed rage began pouring out of him like a flood:

"You know what, Lauren?" he asked heatedly. "Fuck you!" Her eyes widened in shock. "That's right, fuck you! You are absolutely the worst sister in the world. You've always been rude to me and barely treat me like a human being: you shove your homework off on me and make me do all the chores you're supposed to be doing and you even humiliate me at school! And today—today you went beyond every limit when you did this to me!" John held up the back of his right hand, showing Lauren the red scar that was still burned onto his flesh.

For a moment he just stood there breathing hard and trying his best to hold back the tears, but a few still managed to creep down his eyes. "Did you forget that you're my sister?" asked John wiping his face. "My twin sister! There's supposed to be an unbroken bond of love between us, not hatred. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Lauren took an angry step forward, her loose babydoll nightie rippling with the motion before coming to rest against her naked thighs. She thrust a finger out and barked: "I don't fucking care if we're twins! I don't love you and I never will, you hear that asshole? As far as I'm concerned we're enemies."

"Oh that's right," John said with sarcasm, "you'd rather Jessica Chambers was your twin and not me. Tell me: how long have you two lesbians been going at it? That's who you were talking to when I came in, right?"

"What...what the fuck did you say!" the blonde spluttered in alarm. John was going to reply but his eyes were too busy ogling Lauren's chest: right below his sister's hateful face were her breasts, the two creamy spheres squished together and looking so full and lovely, pushing up over the low bust of her black nightie and creating a delicious valley of cleavage. For the moment he could only stare.

"That's right," John said after a pause. "I know all about you and your lesbian girlfriend. Isn't that why you're dressed up like a slut tonight—so you can chat on-line with that bitch?"

"Get out of my room!" Lauren snarled, pointing to her door. John didn't move. "Get out!" she screamed. "I order you to get out!"

"You order me to get out?" asked John with rising anger. "You order me? Well I fucking order you to run into that wall!"

As soon as he said those words Lauren turned on her heel and ran face forward into the wall behind her. There was a sickening thud as she cried out in pain, pressing a hand tightly to her nose.

"Fuck!" she screeched in agony. "Why the fuck tell me to run into the wall!" She kept rubbing her nose with her hand; too bad it wasn't bleeding....

"I didn't think you'd actually do it," said John astonished. "Why the hell did you?"

Lauren shook her head, the shimmering waves of golden hair flowing with the motion. "I don't know!" she whined. "Something in my head told me to do it and I just did. It was like I couldn't help myself."

John laughed. "And if I told you to jump up and down would you do that?" She shook her head no. "Well, jump up and down." Lauren just glared at John from the tops of her eyes as she continued rubbing her sore nose. "See," he said, "it's not my fault you ran into the wall. You did it to yourself...." And then, at that very moment, a strange voice inside John's head whispered something unusual. "Lauren," he said, "I order you to jump up and down."

And just like that Lauren started jumping up and down. Her lush blonde hair bounced with every leap and her full breasts jiggled up and down with the activity, the black skirt of her babydoll nightie undulating against her creamy thighs.

"Stop!" she cried. "Stop making me jump up and down! I don't want to! I don't want to jump up and down! Please make me stop! ....Why can't I stop!?"

John was struck dumb. Lauren was doing exactly what he was telling her, or more precisely, what he was ordering her. There was just one more test that was needed. "Lauren," John began in a trembling voice, "do a backflip." She didn't respond but continued jumping up and down with a distressed face. Now came the moment of proof. "Lauren," John spoke up, "I order you to do a backflip."

The second he finished those words Lauren executed a flip, leaping backwards the air, and for a moment John believed she had been successful but instead Lauren just crashed painfully to the ground chest-first.

That was all the proof he needed—for at that instant John knew he had the power to control minds, a power bestowed on him by that mysterious red lightning bolt. That's right: Lauren wasn't just messing with her brother by running deliberately into a wall or jumping up and down to mock him, because there was no way in hell she'd perform an excruciating backflip that could've resulted in a broken neck.

John laughed hysterically, laughed because he finally had the power to revenge himself on his nasty bitch of a sister. He thought back on all the wrongs Lauren had done him since childhood, how ruthlessly she had treated him, how horrible a person she'd been to her own brother, and all he could think of was revenge. An exhilarating sense of power flowed through his veins as John realized that Lauren was now in his control—and he wanted her to pay. He wanted to make her do dirty, disgusting things; he wanted to degrade her and humiliate her. And he would—but most of all, John wanted her body.

He walked up to Lauren, who was kneeling low to the floor and clutching her stomach in pain; the babydoll nightie had become hiked all the way up her waist and he could see her black, panty-clad buttocks thrust in the air. She looked up at her brother—luxuriant blonde hairs dangling in front of her eyes—and in her face John read both hatred and fear: she knew that John could somehow manipulate her actions.

"Awww," her brother teased, "did little Lauren hurt herself?"

She just groaned and scowled at John from the tops of her eyes, clutching her ribs even tighter.

"H-how," Lauren whimpered, "how's this p-possible...? It...c-can't be...r-real...."

"Get up you fucking bitch," John suddenly barked. "Ooops; I mean, I order you to get up and stand still."

At the word "order" Lauren promptly sprang to her feet and stood rooted to the spot. John figured her stomach was still hurting but the power he had over Lauren's mind countermanded the needs of her body. Besides, she deserved to feel a little pain for the way she'd treated him.....

And so John moved closer to his sister, grinning wickedly as he eyed her almost-naked body. He still couldn't get over the babydoll nightie she had on; it was so flimsy and revealing. Beneath that dim layer of gossamer fabric he could see the darker shades of Lauren's black bra and panties, and between them the curves of her slender waist. Oh, and let's not forget those long, sexy legs and shimmering blonde hair!

Reaching out his hand, John clutched one of his sister's full c-cup breasts and squeezed it lightly in his palm. "Ahh!" Lauren moaned in surprise. "Wh-what the hell do you think you're doing! John—John!?" He clenched the perfectly round orb a lot harder, feeling the soft tissue warp between his fingers. "Ohhhhh!" Lauren moaned out loud, quivering with the sensation of having her perky breast groped by her own brother's hand. "John! Stop that! Please brother, I'm begging you to stop!"

"Oh, now I'm your brother?" John laughed. For the moment he continued fondling his sister's breast before issuing his next command: "Lauren, I order you to tilt your head back." She complied, tipping her chin up till she was staring at the ceiling. John stepped closer so that his crotch pushed up hard against Lauren's (he was sure Lauren could feel his swollen erection against her panties) and while clutching her soft breast, John licked his tongue slowly up his sister's throat. Lauren squealed and shuddered as the pink tongue moved up the rich flesh of her throat all the way to her chin, leaving a glistening track of drool in its wake.

"Ahhhhhh!" she moaned, pressing her eyes closed tight. "J-John, p-please stop! Th-this is...s-so wrong!"

Once John finished licking his sister's throat he moved to kiss the bare skin of her shoulder, and, ordering Lauren to stick out her arm, he then began trailing soft kisses down the silken flesh till he got to her black lingerie glove. Though the glove encased Lauren's hand to the elbow it left her fingers uncovered. So, gripping his sister's hand by the wrist, John inserted her slender forefinger into his mouth and sucked on it back and forth, his tongue soon emerging and swirling around the creamy digit. All the while Lauren was standing there with her eyes closed tight and shaking like a leaf; her throat gasped at the caresses of her brother's tongue and her breathing had become loud and uneven.

"That was fun," John remarked, popping the finger out of his mouth.

"Fuck you!" Lauren shot back. "I'm going to fucking kill you do you hear me! John, answer me you fuck! Do you hear what I'm saying! The moment I get out of this trance I'm going to murder you!" Lauren's arm was hanging stretched in the air even now, and John could see from her helpless eyes that she was lying.

He chuckled. "You can't do a thing to me and you know it. Face it, Sis: you're totally in my control." He leaned in close to Lauren, bringing his lips to her right ear: "From now on," John whispered, "you're my slut."

And as he said those words, John snuck his hands behind Lauren's back and gripped her firm buttocks through her nightie. "Ah!" she gasped in surprise, her eyes opening wide with shock along with her pink mouth.

The two full cheeks of Lauren's behind felt so nice and supple in John's palms, even through the silky black fabric of her lingerie. As his crotch bumped up hard against her panties John proceeded to squeeze and massage his sister's sculpted buttocks. Sometimes he cupped the two shapely cheeks in his hand and squeezed them tightly, feeling their muscles flex; at other times John ran his palms lightly over their rounded surface, feeling the gossamer fabric caressing his fingers. As for Lauren, with every tiny squeeze of her buttocks she would gasp out softly or let out a little squeal.

"Now didn't that feel nice?" John inquired, taking a step back.

Though she couldn't move Lauren's entire body was quivering as she stood there with her eyes pressed shut. "F-f-fuck you!" she blurted out, as if shivering with cold.