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Powder loves and trusts her sister implicitly, completely. With her heart and her body, with her safety and her future. They've shared everything that two sisters can, and more than a few things they probably shouldn't, as far as most people are concerned. Most people aren't as smart and strong and beautiful and kind as Powder's big sister.
She knows that Vi loves her too, an unquestioning and abiding love that has carried them through hard times which no child should know. However, Powder isn't so sure that Vi trusts her back, or at least, nearly as much.
Sometimes, Vi sneaks out at night. That in itself isn't unusual, but she always tells Powder to relax, to sleep, to stay put, to “Trust me” — any number of assurances that her big sister will come back. So it's unusual when she doesn't. When Vi slips out of bed and says nothing? Creeps away thinking Powder is still asleep, hasn't noticed? Powder always notices. And tonight, Powder wants to know what makes times like these different.
The sisters typically go to bed fully clothed, aside from shoes, because back in their old home in the Sump, one never knew when it might be necessary to run or hide at the drop of a hat. So when Vi makes her move, all she has to do is pad away in bare feet, carrying her leather-soled flats. Powder does the same, moments later.
Avoiding the notice of the boys is child's play. Claggor hunkers down on his couch like a krug, a big lump as still as a stone, while Mylo's lanky limbs sprawl out on his as he tosses and turns, but he slumbers just as deep. Following Vi up the creaky wooden steps out of the basement is a bit trickier. The snores of Vander zonked out, probably at his writing desk again, drifting down from the upstairs loft ensure that even their ever-watchful patriarch will not intervene in either girl's stealthy exit from the closed bar.
The Undercity never truly sleeps, but the parts of it which aren't the markets do slow down at night. Few wander the streets and alleys, and nobody is watching the rooftops, so Vi's preferred method of free-running is the most efficient way to get where she's going. Powder isn't as fast or nimble, but she's smaller and makes less noise and knows these neighborhoods like the back of her hand, so she's able to keep up without much difficulty. She fears that Vi has caught her once or twice, but after a moment's wariness, the teen continues to press on until she unknowingly leads her sister to the docks.
The river stinks of fish and pollution. Ships creak in their moorings, awaiting the next day.
Vi enters a nondescript warehouse through an unlit side door and Powder reasons it'd be wiser to have a bird's-eye view of whatever will happen inside, rather than fumble about the darkened interior. She scales a drain pipe, careful not to scrape rusty metal against the brick edifice, and finds her entrance through a cloudy, broken window.
Powder waits in the rafters for her eyes to adjust, the shapes of many boxes, as well as things draped in tarps or nets, resolving in the gloom. Vi is easy to identify again, the sole source of movement. Powder clambers along, spider-like, and passes above a dividing wall to what seems to be an office space without a ceiling of its own. There's nowhere to go from here, so Powder settles on her belly and wills her pounding heart to be just a bit quieter.
“There you are,” rasps a deep voice.
Powder nearly swallows her tongue in fright. That came from right below her, but no eyes or hands find her in the dark. She remains undiscovered. Vi doesn't look surprised, if her unflinching silhouette is any indication, and was clearly expecting to be addressed by the shadows this way.
The click and snap of a lighter ignites a small orange flame, revealing the other party. Dusky brown skin and darker hair, a broad frame dressed mostly in leather. Sevika sucks on the end of her habitual cigarillo, its tip glowing cherry red. She sneers, “Thought maybe you weren't coming tonight.”
“Like I had a choice?” Vi responds bitterly. She reaches up and turns the lighter of an overhead oil lamp hanging from the very wooden beam which Powder lays upon. It casts Vi and Sevika in a sickly yellow glare, but the radiant contrast provides a cover for the unseen child to hide above. Vi then explains, “Had to shake a tail, took the long way.”
“Smart,” Sevika says, but it sounds too condescending to be a compliment. “Wouldn't want anybody finding out what you get up to, now would we? Certainly not Vander, oh no! It'd be a damn shame if he learned about the things you've been doing with your sweet little sister. Or what about that Piltie twist you've got on the side? The old hound would blow a gasket if he knew you were messing around with a 'dear friend across the river'.”
“I remember our deal,” Vi says through gritted teeth. Her fists are balled, arms shaking from the effort of containing her anger. “You don't have to remind me.”
“Sometimes I wonder about that, Vi. Look at you, standing there like you're ready to throw hands. Haven't you learned by now that I can just take what I want from you? The only thing keeping your dirty little secret safe is your compliance. Fight me and maybe I'll pay a visit to lil' Powder instead.” The predatory edge to Sevika's threat makes a shiver crawl up the spine of the girl in question. “She's growing up nicely, isn't she?”
“You won't touch a single hair on her head,” Vi counters, but there's no heat in her voice. She sounds meek, defeated, pleading. Her shoulders slump and hands go lax.
Powder has never seen her sister like this before and her heart breaks.
“Hey, it's not like you're aren't getting something out of this too. Bet a pouch of my coin spends real easy in the morning, when you don't have to think about the things I made you do to get it,” Sevika heckles. “I don't have to pay you for your... services. I do it out of the kindness of my heart! What's that saying? A spoonful of honey helps the medicine go down?”
Vi sighs, “Can we just... get this over with?”
Sevika leans back from where she sits on a heavy desk and waves with one triumphant hand, “That's right, good girls know their place. Now come hear and take your medicine.”
Vi shuffles forward so she's standing between Sevika's spread knees. She's a large woman, practically a giant to Powder, and even her sister — normally so tough and strong — looks frail by comparison. Sevika seems to just admire Vi for a moment, dark eyes leering up and down Vi's stocky frame.
“Still dressing like a boy, I see. But we both know what you really are, don't we?”
Vi opens her mouth to spit some retort, but Sevika's thick hand comes up to grasp the teen's jaw and cuts it off. She gives a shake and Vi scowls, taking the rebuke in stride.
“No!” she commands. “You'll speak when I tell you to. You'll use your mouth how I tell you to. Understand?”
Vi's teeth clack with the force of her silence and Sevika grins. Her touch softens then, thumb rubbing across Vi's lips, then trailing fingers around an ear and carding through the longer pink hair around the right side of the teen's head.
Sevika purrs, “Good pup. Try as you might to butch it up, you can't hide that pretty face. And when you cum, you flush just like any other girl. Gods, do you look good after I've messed you up. I get hard just thinking about it, see?” The woman indicates her lap and Powder has no trouble making out the bulge inside Sevika's breeches. “Let's get down to it, then. Strip!”
Vi starts to remove her clothing one article after another, reluctant but resigned. Powder has watched her sister disrobe many a time, helped many a time, and it always thrilled her.
Vest and shirt are discarded, revealing the linen wrap which keeps Vi's chest flat. This she unwinds too, freeing her pert teenage bosom, dotted with freckles like her cheeks. The bare muscles of her shoulders are bunched with tension. Belt unfastened, trousers fall next and are kicked off, along with her boots. She hesitates to draw down her simple cotton panties, discolored from sweat, stained at the crotch by the oft occasion Powder's or Vi's own fingers bringing her to a hurried, covert climax. Sevika makes a 'get on with it' gesture and Vi finishes undressing in a rush, leaving on only the boxer's tape woven around knuckles and up past wrists.
Cigarillo clenched in her teeth, Sevika reaches with both meaty hands to fondle Vi's breasts, squeezing the supple flesh. Rough thumb pads roll the teen's nipples and they stiffen into hard pebbles. A whine escapes from Vi and she turns her head away, face reddening in shame at her body's instinctual reaction. Sevika guffaws and blows smoke in the teen's face, making her cough.
“These don't seem to be getting much bigger,” the woman notes in mocking disappointment. “Was your sump-rat mother a flat-chested whore too? Maybe when you're old enough, I'll buy you a decent set of tits, like mine. There's no feeling quite like pressing my cock between a nice, fat pair until they're smeared with my spunk. Would you like that, Vi? Big tits and a shiny pearl necklace? Ha!”
Sevika's hands roam down Vi's torso. The teen flexes her core and the adult chuckles at this impotent display, punishes it by gripping with enough pressure to leave an array of bruises around Vi's hips. Sevika digs a cruel thumb into the exposed naval and the teen winces, her ramrod posture crumpling, and gasps. The knuckles of brown fingers brush through unruly pink bush springing from a pale pubic mound.
“I know I told you to shave this.” Without warning, Sevika curls a thick finger and probes Vi's pussy. The teen cries out at the dry penetration, thighs involuntarily clamping together, and the woman holds her steady with a hand on her back. Sevika complains, “Hate picking hair out of my teeth. I'll let it go for tonight, though. No shortage of things I could do to you, pup. Every inch of your body is mine to use, got it? You're my bitch.”
Powder feels a heat building in her core and tries not to squirm. In some buried, moldering corner of the girl's psyche, she's turned on at the sight of Vi being dominated like this. There's always something satisfying about seeing the mighty being brought low, a feeling usually reserved for the successful caper of a pompous Piltie merchant's riches, or making bumbling fools of the Enforcers. It's never been applied to Vi, though... or has it?
Has a harmless prank on her beloved big sister ever inspired this degree of titillation? Has a rueful but good-humored, “Ya got me, Pow-Pow,” ever sent a spike of arousal through her? Has she ever felt the need to make those freckled cheeks bloom with frustration? Humiliation?
In her heart of hearts, Powder knows the answer is yes.
Sevika's burly arm drives fingers deeper into Vi with such strength that the teen is lifted onto the balls of her feet. All semblance of poise or dignity shattered, Vi's hands scramble for purchase on the woman's leather-clad shoulders to keep her balance. Powder can't see the hand at work, but the wet sound being punched out of her sister is evidence enough that she is responding to the manipulation, however unwillingly. A vein stands out on Sevika's bicep from the strain and yet she shows no sign of fatigue. Vi's whole body quivers, hips jerking as thick fingers plunge in and out of her. Her moans turn clipped and husky in the way Powder knows they do when her sister is about to cum.
Free hand grabbing a fistful of the teen's hair, Sevika wrenches Vi's head back and clamps black lips onto a white throat. She sucks a hickey, teeth leaving deep marks, then suddenly rips both hands away and just watches, amused. Vi stumbles and pants, her orgasm denied.
Sevika tuts, “Not yet, pup. Not until you're begging to ride my cock. Put those hands to work and get me ready for your sorry cunt.”
Holding all the power and completely at ease, Sevika lies back on her elbows. Vi catches her breath, bandaged hands coming to rest on the woman's muscular thighs. She starts to unwrap the throbbing bundle before her, shaky fingers working the buckles and laces. When freed, the woman's massive hog springs forth, semi-hard and already as thick as Powder's arm. Puckered foreskin hangs off the tip. The cock rises from black shrubbery like a tree in one of Powder's picture books. The balls are fat, wrinkled, and sprout kinky strands.
Her instructions clear, Vi lays hands on the rapidly engorging member. Deft fingers massage every bump and ridge down its turgid length, then she palms the heavy sack at the stem, and presses her thumbs into the soft underside, rising back to the tip. She repeats this until Sevika has grown to full erection, at least nine inches of veined meat, and thick enough that Vi can't close a single hand around it. Sevika's foreskin is still so bunched that not even the tip of her glans peeks out yet.
“Take extra care to get me clean down there. I haven't washed my cock since the last time I was balls deep in you. Hope you're hungry!” the woman taunts, a hoarse smoker's cough spilling out of her.
Vi shudders and peels back the foreskin and Powder can see Sevika's bell end. It's flat and broad and almost black, like her lips. Under the rim of her helmet are pale oily splotches and Vi turns her nose at the stink of smegma, but she must do as commanded. Her lips peck at the soiled glans, twisting at the surely foul taste, and she uses her tongue to dampen spots which appear particularly crusty.
In her mind's eye, Powder can imagine it's herself that her sister is cleaning. She visualizes those rosy lips she loves to kiss wrapping around her glans, like they do Sevika's now. She feels the broad tongue that has coaxed so much pleasure from her cunt swirling around a swollen head instead, though it is Sevika's voice which murmurs appreciatively.
She hears the gulp as her sister makes a disgusting meal of the fragrant dick cheese. Vi's mouth releases the spit-slick end with a wet pop and starts moving down the shaft, nibbling and pulling at the skin of Powder/Sevika's dick.
“Suck on my balls,” Powder breathes torridly. And Vi does, inhaling one egg-sized testicle to tongue juggle it inside her mouth, then the other. She gags and picks out strands of black — no, blue — hair which stick to her tongue. Powder flexes pelvic muscles so her rod slaps the teen's freckled face, prompting a sassy eye roll.
A too-deep voice breaks the spell of the young voyeur's imagination and Sevika says, “Learn this lesson well, Vi: Real power doesn't come from strength, it comes from fear. You could hurt me right now, hurt me bad, but you won't because you fear me and what you know I can do. So you obey, like a well-trained dog. Now blow me.”
Vi straightens up, then spits into her bandaged palms to stroke and moisten the full length of Sevika's rod, before dropping her mouth to engulf the head once more. Rising, the teen snorts a lungful of air; descending, she noisily slurps as much dick she can manage. Vi bobs up and down like this, pink hair falling messily around her face in sweaty, asymmetrical curtains. Sevika's loose sheath of skin bunches against Vi's lips on advance and glistens with bubbles of saliva left in their retreat.
Powder can't take it anymore. On her precarious perch, she spreads her knees slightly to grip the wood beam and grinds her crotch into its knotted surface. The girl quickly finds just the right angle to stimulate her mound and has to bite her lip to keep from whimpering.
Perhaps unsatisfied with the teen's technique, Sevika claps hands around the back of Vi's head and pulls, forcing inch after extra inch past her aching jaw. Vi gags and gurgles in alarm, eyes growing as wide as saucers, and snot blows out of her nose. She tries tugging on the woman's large hands, pinches arms, slaps her stomach, pushes back on hips; nothing so much as slows the inexorable press of hard flesh down her throat. Finally, Vi's nose is mashed into the woman's hairy groin. Blood rushes to her face as she struggles to breathe.
“Keep fighting and I'll hold it longer,” Sevika warns. “I can get just as much use out of your body after you pass out.”
Vi seemingly wills herself to fall still, sagging to conserve energy, clenched fists the only sign that she's still conscious. Powder holds her breath too, wondering how long her sister can hold out. Her own arousal is at a fever pitch, hips rocking against at the beam with such fervor as to shake loose a bit of dust, which swirls in the yellow lamplight. After what feels like a dangerously long time, Sevika relents. Vi purges herself of the sodden member and sits on her heels, wheezing to regain her breath. She dry heaves, though nothing comes out but mucus and saliva.
“Attagirl! We'll train that throat yet. Want to go again or are you ready for the main course?” The teen chokes out something that isn't quite speech and Sevika sniggers, wagging herself so that strands of Vi's drool splatter onto her. “Use your words! I want to hear you say that you're ready to be fucked.”
“I'm—ready—to be fucked,” Vi successfully stutters, sounding raw and pained. She pulls on the woman's leather breeches to help stand again.
“Tell me you need my cock in your cunt right now.”
The teen climbs onto Sevika's lap, agreeing, “I need your cock in my cunt.”
“Are you wet and ready for me?”
Knees on either side of the woman's wide hips, the glossy rod lays stiff against Vi's belly. The teen swipes a hand at the juncture of her legs, leaving the bandaged palm soaked with evidence of her womanly need. She pumps the dick and confirms, “I'm so fucking wet.”
Sevika stubs out the ashy tip of her expended cigarillo and lies back fully on the desktop, hands folding behind her head. She goads, “Then give me a show. Ride my pole like the dirty little slut you are.”
Vi runs one hand through her hair to slick it back into place and Powder can see her sister's usually bright gray eyes have darkened almost to dull coal with grim ardor. Her mouth hangs open, panting hotly. She trails fingers down her face, over the purple bruise Sevika left on her throat, across prominent collar bones, between small heaving breasts, tracing taut abs, and coming to rest on one thigh.
The other hand is wrapped around the bell end of Sevika's dick, keeping it steady so Vi can undulate against it. She grinds like a stripper against a pole, her raspberry-hued pubes becoming a matted mess. Vi's engorged clit, big as it is, is a mere nub compared to the woman's immense, throbbing rod. Sinuously, the teen leans over Sevika so that Powder can now only see her sister's flexing back and rounded ass. A trail of juices drip down Sevika's length as Vi works her way into position. One last pause of anticipation before Vi sinks onto the fat brown dick.
A fresh moan rips out of the teen and it builds higher and higher as she settles a bit more with every downward press. It tapers to a faint keening when Vi bottoms out, having somehow taken the whole gross thing into herself.
“Fucking hells,” Sevika groans. “How are you still so tight?”
The teen arches, growing accustomed to the being so filled. Hands plant on Sevika's knees, elbows locked for support. Her hips buck just a little at first, then with more speed and deeper thrusts as she gains confidence. Soon enough, Vi is bouncing on the woman's dick like a professional harlot. There is a wet splat every time their hips crash together and Vi's toned stomach distends, invaded by the foreign appendage.
“Plenty of exercise,” the teen can't help but snark, ever the smartass.
Hungry eyes watching every step of this vulgar display, Powder has to bite down on a knuckle, relying on the pain to keep her mind from fogging over lustily and giving away her presence. Her free hand dives into her tights and finds the crotch a sticky mess. She rubs her clit, but it isn't right, it isn't invasive enough, and switches to fingering herself. Powder matches the rhythm that Vi sets, her nimble fingers no match for Sevika's dick, but in her mind they're just as filling for her young pussy.
Sisters move in sync, breathe in sync. Powder wants to cum at the same time as Vi. Sevika has other ideas though.
The woman must have tired of not being in control of the pace, because without warning, she rolls over and slams Vi onto the desk. The teen's head bangs hard and she cries out, cradling herself protectively. Sevika grabs both wrists in one thick hand and pins them. She hooks the other under one of Vi's knees and uses sheer body weight to fold the teen in half. Heavy boots clomp onto the desktop and Sevika traps Vi in a mating press, holding all the leverage.
“Ow! Fuckin' shit, take it easy!”
“Let's see you how smart you are now,” the giant woman growls.
Powder can't see anything like this, beyond Sevika's broad leather-clad back and pounding hips, but the sounds that Vi is making drive her wild. Her sister gasps and moans, cries and curses. Heavy balls slap against the teen's ass and the only thing visible are her bare feet, canted at different angles, soles dirty and toes curling. Sevika ruts mercilessly, like an animal.
“Think tonight—unf!—is the night—unf!—I finally put a—unf!—baby in your belly?” Sevika jeers between grunts. “You and your sister—unf!—already enjoy—unf!—playing house—unf! I can give you—unf!—what you can't—unf!—give her. Bet—unf!—you'd like that—unf!—huh?
Whether or not Vi achieves a proper orgasm is clearly of no concern to her adult tormentor. There is only a strangled sobbing from the teen when she tips over her breaking point. Sevika growls and gives a few final, driving thrusts, while she empties her balls into Vi's womb. Powder crests her own climax, stifling a squeak around the coppery taste of broken skin around her knuckles.
The woman pulls out and wipes her dick on Vi's stomach. The teen neither speaks nor acts in protest. Sevika drops down from the desk on shaky legs and relishes the tableau of corruption laid out before her: Vi is totally spent, limbs akimbo, flushed from her chest to her hairline, eyes glassy and jaw slack, a sloppy cream pie dribbling out of her abused cunt to pool on the table between her legs.
Not even bothering to wait until her member softens, Sevika stuffs herself back into tight breeches, then checks a pocket watch. She bemoans, “Shit, that took longer than I thought. Looks like your obedience lessons ends early tonight, pup. But hey, you should be proud of yourself. So long as you stay my favorite cock sleeve, your precious little Powder's holes are safe — from me, at least.”
Vi doesn't respond to the taunting. She rolls onto her side and curls into the fetal position.
“Tsk! Well, I've got business out of town for a while, so you rest up until my next signal.” Sevika snuffs the overhead lamp and leaves the teen in the dark. She makes for the office door, but pauses at the threshold and tosses over her shoulder: “Haha, almost forgot.”
A heavy pouch sails across the room and skids over the desktop beside Vi, spilling coin.
“Don't spend it all in one place!”
Lying in the dark, listening to her sister's muffled crying, Powder is ashamed of herself for enjoying that. She hates the part of herself that, even now, wants to drop down and prod the ravaged teen, twist the knife and see how much Vi bleeds. Cruelty is infectious. She feels sick to her stomach. She should never have come out here.
Just when Powder falteringly rises to hands and knees, heeding the urge to flee, Vi speaks to the night:
“I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay,” she croaks. And after a beat, then comes, “Sorry you had to see that, Pow. Sorry I didn't... tell you about this sooner. I was scared.”
The little girl gawps at the revelation she'd been found out. In a small voice, she asks, “How long did you know I was here?”
“The whole time, I guess? I lied to Sevika about losing the tail. Couldn't put off the meet-up anymore. You heard why. But I figured it had to be you.”
Solemnly, Vi gathers up the loose coin and tightens the pouch's drawstring. She makes to rise, then winces at the sensitivity lingering at the apex of her legs, so falls back and laughs it off, unconvincingly.
“Besides, she might have thought you were a mouse or something, but I know what you sound like when you cum,” Vi jokes. It's a transparent attempt at levity.
The dark side of Powder subsides and now all she wants is to comfort her big sister. She offers, “Can't we fight her together? We could get the boys to help, at least. We don't need to tell them why.”
“No!” Vi blurts. “No, Pow-Pow, we can't. Not yet. You don't know it, but Sevika is rolling with some new gang. We'd be starting a war in the Lanes. This can't escalate.”
“You sound like Vander,” the younger girl accuses.
“I just have to... tough it out, but only until I'm strong enough to protect us. Protect you. And I will be... someday. You—you believe me, don't you?”
Powder loves and trusts her sister implicitly, completely. But now she knows that Vi isn't the hero. She isn't invincible. There are monsters even Vi can't chase away. Maybe Powder is one of them.
“Do you?”