Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  Rachel nodded and opened the case, taking out tweezers, bandages, and some wound cleaning solution.

  "I've never been so happy to see you wounded. I thought you might have caught one. I think they hit at least one or two other guests."

  Neither of us said that they were incidental. It was apparent from the outset that I had been the primary target.

  Rachel took her time, removing the splinter carefully, checking to ensure that she got all of it, then cleaned and bandaged the wound. It barely hurt when she was done. Then our eyes met, and I was suddenly very hard again as if I hadn't had sex less than one hour earlier.

  Rachel pulled my shirt out and ran her hands over my chest, scraping me with her nails. Her desire was shocking.

  "It's been so long, Reuben. So fucking long."

  "That's a shame. You should have been getting well-fucked."

  I grabbed her ass in both hands and squeezed hard, she moaned and ground her crotch against me.

  "I know, but you were gone, and...and there were others, but they were just lays, and I didn't give a fuck about then. There was nothing real between us. Not like you and I had."

  I hadn't expected that kind of sentimentality from her. Still, she wasn't wrong. I had felt very strongly for her, as only a man barely eighteen could, and I knew that she cared about me as well.

  "You should have found me, Rachel, you know that..."

  "Stop!"

  Rachel almost shouted in the small space in the back of the car. The volume was surprising but not as much as the emotion. For just a moment, I saw all manner of emotions manifest on her face: regret, guilt, and deep anguish over things that I indeed had no understanding of.

  "All right," I said softly, stroking her face.

  "I...I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about the past right now. I don't have any illusions that you're mine, Reuben, or ever entirely will be. But I can be yours if you want, when you want. You've always treated me well, and I'll be so loyal to you. I swear."

  Her desperation to convince me of something that I already believed was strange, but I didn't want her to think that I felt anything but warmth for her. I kissed her then, softly, and to my surprise, she began fumbling with my belt, her eagerness that of an inexperienced girl. I helped her unbutton and slide out of her simple work pants and utilitarian underwear, revealing the dark auburn hair of her pussy, which was neatly trimmed. I started to unbutton her shirt, but she shook her head, panting audibly.

  "Can't wait. Can't. Need...need you..."

  Rachel unzipped my fly and pulled my cock out with her hand. It looked huge in her small hand, and she moaned for it. For me. That was when I realized just how much she had been in love with me. Her feelings hadn't abated during my absence. Before I could process this realization, she mounted my cock and let it impale her.

  "Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes. Please...oh please...please..."

  There were tears on her cheeks now, and I kissed her and moaned into her mouth as she rode me. She wasn't rough, but she was fast and unskilled. Her need and love had taken her beyond any sort of thought. I said nothing, but I groaned and mauled her neck. She never stopped talking.

  "Please, Reuben. Please, please, please. I'm sorry I'm so sorry I can't I can't I couldn't..."

  Endless words of begging and apology, some I could understand in context but most making no sense at all to me. I didn't care though, she was close, and so was I.

  "Please, please cum in me cum in me don't let me be his any more make me yours I want to be yours please please please please..."

  I wanted Rachel to cum first, but it was too late for that. I felt myself swell and pulse. I groaned loudly, almost shouting as I filled her. I didn't want her to be on any kind of protection. I wanted her completely. I wanted her to belong to me and only me. I wanted to protect her and cherish her. I wanted a lot of things.

  Rachel came too, as soon as the first of my seed entered her. It was like it had burned her, the reaction was so quick. She cried out and her back arched. She would have fallen back between the front seats had my hands not steadied the small of her back.

  After what seemed forever, we stopped our exertions. Rachel collapsed forward, onto my chest, and sobbed. She was crying now, genuinely crying. I held her and soothed her. There were no words for a while.

  "Your father used to fuck me," Rachel said simply. I was shocked by the admission, but not that it had been happening. I had always suspected that she had belonged to him, even if she had never explicitly said so before. She was a few years older than I, and I remembered her showing up when she was around eighteen, suddenly being my family's "driver." She was in good shape, well-trained in all manner of things, including self-defense, and incredibly loyal to him. It made sense.

  "Ah," I said, feeling stupid, but not angry or upset at her to any degree. My father fucked a lot of people.

  "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never told you. He was still fucking me at the same time we were together. He fucked me after you left, too. He was never kind, like you. He never cared if I came, although he could get me off so easily. I'd been his property my whole life. When I rebelled, I became a worse person. The only thing that made me feel better was you. You were...I don't know. You saved me. You loved me the same way I loved you, and I was never the same after that."

  I had never heard such bitterness in Rachel's voice, followed by such kindness. She never looked up, and I knew that she was still crying by the wetness of my shirt. I caressed her hair with one hand while I still held her with my other arm. This was one more thing to hate my father for, but I couldn't fault him for taste. It was likely we were both attracted to the same things about her, after all.

  Rachel wasn't done shocking me. Eventually, we settled down a bit. I zipped up, and I helped her dress. We laughed a little together in the afterglow. We kissed a few times. I don't know if it would have happened if we hadn't been in mortal danger together, but it made getting shot at worth it.

  "He adopted me, you know? He adopted me and had me taught and trained to be his...well, to be his. In every way. To shoot and drive and fight and think. I even had someone to teach me how to properly suck dick and take cock. Can you imagine it? I've always been your family's property. I...I don't want to leave. I just want to be yours. Can I be yours? Please?"

  "Yes, Rachel," I answered immediately, despite my shock, "You can. You can be mine, and you can be free. You can be both at once if you want."

  Rachel nodded and kissed my cheek, chastely. Then we both got out, got dressed, and got back in the back seat to wait for rescue. It had been a hell of a night.

  * *

  We were snuggled up close in the back seat when the helicopter arrived.

  "Oh," I said, with a little regret, "I guess the cavalry has arrived."

  "Good," she said with a smile, "I was getting tired of all this cuddling. You go with them. I'll drive the SUV home."

  I shook my head.

  "No. I want you with me. I'll feel safer, and I'll sleep better knowing that you made it home."

  Rachel blushed, but she nodded. We dressed quickly, got out, and headed towards the chopper. It was civilian, large, but inside were armed men. They disembarked and watched all approaches to the helicopter until Rachel and I had boarded, then they filed back on themselves. Within a minute, we were back in the air. The cabin was quieter and more comfortable than I expected, more like a luxury car than what I'd seen on shows and movies. I'd only been on helicopters once or twice, and they'd been much more utilitarian.

  Rachel clearly knew both the man leading the security team and the pilot of the aircraft. She spoke a few words to each of them, then handed me a sizeable wired headset.

  "It's your sister," Rachel said.

  I put on the headset, feeling glad to be alive but weirdly guilty about Tonya and not Rachel. One felt like cheating on Isa, but the other just felt natural. I couldn't have explained it if I tried.

  "Reuben," Isa's voice was fragile, her tremor noticeable, "ar
e you all right?"

  "Yes, Isa, I'm fine. Just scared. Rachel got me out safe."

  "Thank god," she said with palpable relief, "I'm so sorry. I...if anything had happened..."

  "You don't need to apologize, Isa. You didn't do anything. Whoever did this might be after you as well. So stay safe."

  "I'm not going anywhere until you get home. Then we can decide what to do."

  "All right," I said, hesitating for a moment, "I love you, Isa."

  "I love you too."

  * *

  I was wide awake by the time the helicopter dropped us off at home. The increased and visible security told me that news of what happened had already arrived. Rachel stayed by my side all the way into the main building. Then we turned and looked at each other. What happened next was a bit strange, and I didn't fully understand it then.

  Rachel embraced me. Others were milling about, and Isa was coming down the main stairs. She stopped and observed us, although she seemed neither shocked nor upset. She held me for just long enough to whisper something to me in a shuddering breath that barely held back tears.

  "I'm sorry...for everything. Thank you."

  I watched her leave, heading back to the small house that she lived in at the edge of our property. For the first time, it truly bothered me that she didn't live here with us. She was family to me. But there were more urgent matters to deal with, or so I have been told.

  Isa was standing behind me, waiting patiently, when I turned back around. She was dressed in comfortable loose black pants and a white tank top, the sort of thing she frequently wore around her own rooms. She had tear streaks running through her thick eye shadow, so she must have gone out at some point that night. At least some of those tears had been on my behalf, which made me feel good, and then a little guilty about causing her to worry. She put her hand on my shoulder and then looked at my side. I'd left my shirt open, and she could see both the blood and the bandage.

  "I thought you said that you hadn't been hurt?"

  I smiled. Her tone was sharp, but I understood that it genuinely was concern and love she was expressing.

  "I got hit with a splinter. It's difficult to think of that as serious harm after the other events," I said, then looked around, "Where's Sarah?"

  Isa's lips compressed, and I could tell that she was full of worry.

  "We don't know yet. I've got half of our goddamned security looking for her. She went to New York on my...our behalf. If anything's happened to her, it's my fault. I'm responsible for putting both of you in danger."

  I shook my head, trying not to show the concern I had for the woman that we shared a great deal of affection for.

  "I went of my own free will. I could have refused. Besides, I made it out. What can I do?"

  It was Isa's turn to smile, and I could see how exhausted she was. It looked as though she hadn't had any sleep at all tonight, which was odd. Usually, she would have turned in before the time I was even scheduled to be at the Brigantine.

  "Well, right now, you can let me look at your side and then get some rest," and then she turned and went back upstairs. I followed.

  We went to the large bathroom that used to be our mother's. Although we did have some on-site medical staff, we kept plenty of first aid supplies here, a tradition my mother started after the first beating I received. I took off my shirt and sat on the closed toilet obediently as Isa got out wound cleanser, fresh bandages, and other items that might be of use.

  As Isa knelt before me and looked at my side, she hesitated for a moment. I knew why.

  "It's all right, Isa," I said, "it brings up memories for me, too. I'm not going to assume that this means anything more than what it is. I know that the past is the past."

  She met my eyes with a sad grin.

  "I don't think anything ever ends," she said as she started her work, "not really. I swear that whoever is behind this whole thing is probably trying to get revenge on Father somehow, even though he's been dead for years. And sometimes I wish that..."

  She didn't finish her sentence. I wanted her to, desperately, but I didn't push. Not out of respect, but fear. I realized with absolute clarity that my burgeoning attraction to Tonya was misplaced desire for Isa. I knew nothing about the former, but she had taken the form of a proxy for my sister, maybe as was intended. So, at that moment, I wanted Isa to express regret that we had ever broken apart. I was terrified that she would reveal the opposite: a wish that we had never crossed the line that we had and become lovers. That we were just normal brother and sister and nothing more. So I stayed silent, in my cowardice.

  That being said, it was not unpleasant. The pain was minor, and the woman I loved doted on me carefully and applied treatment, as well as any trained medic, would have. She stitched the wounds with expertise that a nurse would have found admirable. We sat in amiable silence. By the time she was done, I wanted to kiss her more than ever, but I knew that wouldn't happen. Also, I was ready to pass out on my feet.

  We met eyes, and for just a moment, I saw something of the old Isa as her cheeks flushed. She bit her lip, stood, and started packing away the supplies. I stood and approached her, with the intent of giving her what I hoped was a chaste hug from behind. I caught her natural scent, and I was briefly overwhelmed. When I was but inches away, she spoke.

  "Good night, Reuben," she said. Her voice was cold again, the icy wall returning in full force. I knew then that any attempt to touch her would have been disastrous.

  "Good night, Isa," I replied gently, "Please wake me if you hear anything about Sarah."

  Then I left the bathroom, closing the door behind me and returning to my own room. I dreamed of fog that never ended and a river where I could see those I cared about float past silently, face down. Thankfully, I don't remember who I saw.

  * *

  I woke to the late morning light. Isa was gently shaking my shoulder.

  "Wake up, Reuben. I...I need you."

  I woke up and looked at my watch. It was nearly noon.

  "What's going on?"

  I didn't wait for the answer but got up and began changing clothes. Isa turned swiftly around, her cheeks obviously flushed. I didn't mean to scandalize her, but it wasn't anything that she hadn't seen before. I grimaced as I put a loose shirt on. My side ached, but it indeed wasn't anything terrible.

  "Sarah's here. She's...she's hurt fairly badly."

  "What? What happened?"

  Isa was already heading out into the hall. I stepped into some shoes and almost ran after her.

  "There was another attack at the same time. Her car was shot up. There was some kind of explosion."

  "Oh. Oh god. Is...how is she?"

  "She's not conscious, Reuben. The local ER deemed her stable and safe to travel, so I made the decision to airlift her here, where we could protect her better. I hope to god it was the right choice."

  "Isa," I said as we entered a small elevator, "Sarah needs you to be there for you. If you want to blame yourself for her injuries, I can't stop you, but don't do it now."

  Isa nodded and, to my surprise, wrapped both of her arms around my left arm, then leaned her forehead into my shoulder. I could barely hear her voice.

  "You know me so well that it's almost unfair."

  I didn't reply as the door opened to bustling medical staff and a sterile, if somewhat bland, hallway. Above, the manse was mostly in its original state save for electronic security additions, but below the surface was another matter entirely. We still had a cellar for wine and storage, but half of it had been walled off, reinforced, and modernized. Now there was a medical facility large enough to treat six comfortably and many times that in an emergency. There were emergency medical supplies, pharmaceuticals, and food that could last months. Typically, a single person was on the staff down here, passing the time by ensuring that all the supplies were fresh and everything was functional. This morning it looked like we'd called in all the shifts as well as every doctor on our payroll. It may have been overkill, bu
t I didn't blame Isa for doing it. We both loved Sarah, after all.

  We could see her, behind thick glass. She'd obviously arrived a short while ago. Nurses were just finishing hooking up machines, and she had an IV in her arm. She looked comfortable but had a puffy look familiar to people in ICUs. She had a nasty black eye that accompanied a bandage on her forehead that had bled through a bit already, and one of her legs was elevated. What I worried about were the injuries that we could not see.

  "It must have taken her a while to get here," I noted, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

  "I came to your room to do just that, but you were sleeping so soundly, and you looked so tired. I decided to let you sleep until she arrived, or we knew more."

  I nodded. I wasn't upset. I probably would have done the same. In less than a minute, a man in blue scrubs approached us. He was maybe sixty, and I recognized him. He was once a surgeon at our local hospital, and I knew that we had him on our payroll. He had a head of gray hair, a thick mustache, and bright eyes surrounded by lines of years of concern.

  "Doctor Matthews," Isa said, all cold formality again, "what can you tell us?"

  He smiled at us, and I felt a small weight lift.

  "Largely, I'd say that she's in good shape. She's injured, yes, but basically sleeping right now. She's not comatose, and there's significant brain activity. The worst-case scenario is something in her skull that we haven't seen, but for now, all the scans have come up clean."

  "What do you recommend?" I asked.

  "We monitor her," he said, "and let her rest. She has a few broken ribs, a hairline fracture in one leg, and some nasty cuts. On the other hand, she's also dealing with some emotional trauma from the attack itself. I've got a colleague who does crisis counseling on the way. He'll be here in about forty-five minutes. In the meantime, we'll watch her vitals. I'd like to call one or both of you down here when she wakes up. If she sees familiar faces, it should make her feel more at ease."

  Isa sighed with relief.

  "I'll wait here if you don't mind," Isa said, and I knew that if the doctor told her to leave that she would. Sarah's health was too important to her to do otherwise.