Brother, I'm sorry.

My brother led me into a taxi, and we remained silent the entire way. Since neither of us had eaten, we didn't check into a hotel immediately after getting out; instead, we ate at a small barbecue restaurant near the hotel.
There were very few people eating at this time. To my surprise, my brother ordered two bottles of beer. Who drinks beer with breakfast? My brother and I used to drink beer when we met for meals, one bottle each, but he drank very little. He'd usually pour me one glass and then let me drink the rest. Northern women don't hold back when it comes to drinking, and my brother often admired my capacity.
We sat there, devoid of our usual lively conversation. I habitually opened the bottle and poured a glass for my brother first. When I tried to pour one for myself, he snatched the bottle from me.
I looked at him, somewhat bewildered. He drank silently, barely paying attention to me.
I felt even more frustrated and anxious, unsure of what would happen next.
My brother drank rather quickly; after a few beers, his face turned red.
He looked at me and said, "I drank too much. I don't know why, but I felt dizzy after a few drinks today.
" I told my brother to drink less, but he looked at me and said it wasn't my problem.
I didn't dare say anything more.
Finally, we finished eating and paid the bill. My brother stood up, a little unsteady. I offered to help him, but he refused.
Fortunately, the hotels were close by, and we went back to our room one after the other.
This time, we weren't staying at our usual chain hotel. This hotel was quite luxurious, with a large room and tasteful furnishings.
As we entered, my brother ignored me and went straight to the sofa.
I quietly put down my luggage, took off my coat, and then walked over to my brother, sitting down next to him on the large sofa.
I thought about our previous two meetings. We stayed at that chain hotel, which, although not as luxurious as this one, had a warm and inviting atmosphere. More importantly, I felt a sense of warmth both times. Why couldn't I find that warmth this time, even though the accommodations were better? If it were before, my brother would hug and kiss me as soon as he entered the room, kissing me all the way to the bed, kissing me until I undressed.
But now, my brother didn't kiss or hug me as usual. He hadn't said a word since he came in, and we just sat there awkwardly.
After a while, I couldn't hold back anymore and slowly and carefully snuggled closer to him. He noticed my movement and moved away slightly, not letting me touch him.
I didn't know how to start the conversation. Then, my brother told me to take a shower and said with a hint of disgust, "Wash yourself clean, wash away all the dirt.
" Hearing his words, I almost burst into tears. My brother had never said anything so hurtful before. It seemed he really hated me.
I held back my tears and went into the bathroom, turning on the tap to wash my body, which my brother considered no longer clean.
Then, my brother shouted again from outside, "Wash yourself clean, harder! I'll check when you come out. If you're not clean, go wash again until I think you're clean.
" Hearing his words, I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I cried.
I was no longer beautiful in my brother's eyes. In his eyes, I was a dirty woman without principles! Afraid that my brother would hear me crying, I turned up the tap and lathered my body with shower gel, washing myself again and again.
On the train, I was planning to show my brother the words I'd written on my breasts and vulva when I saw him, but now he wasn't giving me that chance, and probably didn't even want to see them.
When I started washing, I wondered if I could leave those two areas unwashed, but I accidentally washed them off. Then I remembered my brother told me to wash my whole body, and I didn't know if he was interested in the words on my body, so I washed them all off. I thought
to myself, if my brother likes to see them, I'll rewrite them for him. Then
I heard my brother's impatient voice from outside: "Why are you taking so long? What man are you thinking about in there?" Now, no matter what my brother says, I have to endure it, because since I came to see him, I'm prepared to accept any punishment.
As long as he forgives me and doesn't leave me, I'm willing to do anything.
I changed into my pajamas and came out. I saw my brother had left the sofa and was leaning against the headboard, his clothes off, his legs spread wide on the bed. His penis wasn't erect as usual; it was limp and lifeless, the glans completely covered by the foreskin. I couldn't even see it.
I desperately wanted to go and wrap it up right away, but I was afraid my brother wouldn't allow it, afraid he'd get angry.
His stern and cold attitude today made me hesitant to act rashly;
I was being extra careful. As I hesitated, I heard my brother say in a deep voice, "What's wrong? Don't you know what to do now that you have another man? Do I need to invite you?" Hearing this, I felt a small surge of joy; at least he was willing for me to wrap it up.
I quickly climbed onto the bed, knelt between his legs, and leaned closer, holding it firmly with both hands. His penis felt sticky and emitted an unusual, fishy smell, causing me to involuntarily frown.
My brother noticed this slight expression and angrily said, "What? You think it's dirty? Let me tell you, I deliberately haven't washed it for the past few days. You're not clean yourself, so why should you enjoy a clean penis? Hurry up! If you want to wrap it up, hurry up!" Looking at my brother's stern expression, I felt a little scared, but even more guilty. My brother wasn't like this before; I could feel how much pain he was in now.
It was my fault that caused my brother's attitude; what could I complain about? It was all my own doing. Just
as I was about to lean closer to him, he suddenly pushed my shoulder and said, "Wait a minute, did you brush your teeth? I don't want you to use your dirty mouth that's been used on other men's penises on mine!" I immediately understood what he meant. Several days had passed; I'd brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth every day. How could my mouth still be considered "dirty" as he described? He was definitely concerned about whether I'd used other men's penises, which was why he said that on purpose.
"Brother, I didn't use his. I only like using your penis.
My mouth isn't dirty.
" I really didn't use it. Although I'd used it on a few men before, those two times were under special circumstances. I didn't have the inclination to use it on him. "You think it's not dirty just because you say so? I say you're dirty, so you're dirty! You've mated with other people time and time again, and you still dare to say you're not dirty!" That awful brother of mine actually said I "mated" with other people, how awful! But I didn't dare to argue back, so I just had to accept whatever he said.
"If you say I'm dirty, then I'll go brush my teeth again, okay?" I stared at him with my big, pitiful eyes.
In the past, whenever I did something to upset him, I only needed to give him that look, and he would immediately calm down and come over to comfort me.
"Fine, you slut, don't think I don't understand your little schemes.
Hurry up and wrap it up, and remember to wrap it clean!" My brother fell for it, but he didn't comfort me as usual. I knew he was still angry and wouldn't forgive me just because of one look.
If his tone softened a little, it was probably because he believed I hadn't wrapped a G-cup penis, which made him feel a little better.
I quickly crawled over and knelt between my brother's legs. His large penis was right in front of my face. I gently stroked it with my hand, but it didn't react at all.
As I stroked it, I saw a lot of white semen sludge in the folds of his foreskin, and a strong, fishy smell hit me.
As I stroked it, the large glans was exposed, the precum accumulating there, and more and more white smegma, looking utterly disgusting.
I hesitated, then my brother slapped my head impatiently, saying, "What are you dawdling for? I want you to clean it with your mouth, hurry up!" I tried to lower my head, but the peculiar smell made me wince, my stomach churning.
I looked up, timidly asking my brother what the white, cottage cheese-like stuff inside the foreskin was.
Seeing my expression, my brother looked impatient, saying, "Why so much nonsense? If you like it, hurry up and clean it.
" He pressed my head down, forcing my mouth close to his large penis.
Hearing his angry words, I suppressed my nausea and slowly took his precum-covered penis into my mouth. A fishy, pungent smell filled my nose and mouth, making me nauseous again.
But my brother held my head firmly, his penis firmly inserted deep into my throat.
Because his huge penis had been forcefully thrust into my throat, the fishy, foul smell seemed to intensify.
I used to be fascinated by my brother's large penis, but now, for the first time, I felt like vomiting.
My brother, leaning against the headboard, grabbed my head and pressed it hard against his large penis several times. Perhaps finding it too strenuous, he got up and pinned me down. He knelt on top of me, his penis, already thick and hard from excitement, thrust into my mouth without any hesitation, reaching deep into my throat. Without pausing, he began to thrust rapidly and forcefully.
I was already nauseous, and the lack of adjustment from my brother made my stomach acid churn. My body convulsed, and I gagged from deep within my throat.
Seeing my expression and the gagging, my brother slightly withdrew his penis from my throat. Almost simultaneously, I felt something gushing out of my throat, and my mouth tasted sour and foul—it was probably stomach acid and phlegm from my throat that I was vomiting up.
Just as I was about to catch my breath, my brother's huge penis shoved deep into my throat again, thrusting in and out rapidly.
With each thrust, tears welled up in my eyes from the discomfort; it wasn't that I wanted to cry, it was a natural physiological reaction.
I looked at my brother with teary eyes, but my mouth was blocked by his penis, and I couldn't speak.
My brother continued to thrust wildly into my mouth, asking, "Are you a little slut? Tell me! Are you a little bitch? Do you like being fucked by a big penis when you see a man?" But my mouth was already completely filled with his penis; I couldn't speak. I could only roll my eyes upwards and whimper.
He ignored my pleading gaze, continuing to thrust in and out of my mouth, absorbing all the semen from his penis.
With each frantic, rapid thrust, my lips went numb.
My brother grew increasingly frenzied; he held my head down, his penis slamming into my throat repeatedly.
I wanted to vomit but couldn't, because my mouth was completely stuffed with his huge penis.
My brother showed no mercy, continuing his frenzied thrusting.
The odor from his penis lessened, and as it faded, the nausea in my stomach slowly disappeared.
I gradually relaxed. It was already like this; my brother's punishment was severe, but if it lessened the pain of my mistake and made him feel better, I was willing to endure it.
To my surprise, my brother's anger greatly fueled his penis's fighting spirit. The thrusting never stopped, becoming increasingly violent.
Several times I tried to push it away and lick it with my tongue, but my brother roughly held my head down, preventing me from moving. He relentlessly thrust his penis deep into my throat, as if it were about to pierce through it.
Unable to speak, I let out muffled whimpers, which only fueled my brother's anger. He snarled, "You slut, don't you love being fucked by men? Today I'll let you enjoy it! You filthy bitch, you cheap slut! I'll fuck you to death!!" He pressed my head down firmly, shoving his entire massive penis deep into my mouth.
It was lodged so hard in my throat that I couldn't see it anymore; my nose was pressed against his pubic hair. For a few seconds, I felt like I was suffocating. The feeling of not being able to breathe was unbearable; for a moment, I thought I was going to die.
But my brother, in his rage, didn't care about any of that, he showed no mercy. His massive penis thrust in and out of my mouth again and again! Tears streamed down my face once more.
My brother got even angrier when he saw me crying. He pulled out his big cock, pushed me away, and said, "What? You feel wronged, right? If you can't accept being treated like this, you can leave me.
" "No, brother, don't leave me. It was my fault. I'm sorry. I'm your woman. I'll never do it again.
Please, as long as you forgive me, I'll do anything.
" I didn't even have time to catch my breath. I rolled over, got up, and hugged my brother's waist, continuing to beg him, "Brother, if you feel good fucking me like that, then keep fucking me hard. I'm not wronged at all. Every hole of mine belongs to you. You can fuck me however you want. I'd even fuck you to death.
" My brother looked at me with disdain, "You're such a slut. No wonder so many men like to fuck you. You were born a slut who deserves to be fucked! Tell me, wasn't it you who was horny, your cunt was itchy, and you actively seduced that man to fuck you?" "No, baby, no."
"What? Aren't you a slut?" "I am a slut, baby is a slut, baby is only brother's slut, not someone else's slut.
Baby didn't seduce other men to... fuck baby.
" "If you didn't seduce him, then that man fucked you.
You didn't think he fucked you, did you? So, did you seduce him, or did he fuck you?" When I heard my brother ask this, I couldn't think straight anymore. I didn't admit that I seduced G, but I didn't think G fucked me either.
But now that my brother is asking me this, I have no other choice but to answer, "He raped me.
" "Since he raped you, why didn't you resist? You opened the door yourself, and you probably took off your clothes and lay naked on the bed waiting for him to fuck you, right?" "I didn't open the door myself. He knocked on the door in the middle of the night, and I had no choice but to open it.
I didn't take off my clothes for him to... fuck me. He forced me. He even tore my pajamas to shreds. I've told you all that. I even brought this nightgown with me.
" I carefully added, "You asked me to bring it.
" Indeed, my brother had asked me to bring it before I arrived. I didn't know why he wanted me to bring it, but I obediently brought it anyway.
Seeing my state, my brother said, "Fine, since that's the case, change into that nightgown. By the way, from now on, that nightgown will be called a 'qj dress.' It's evidence of your infidelity, so keep it forever.
Now, wearing your 'qj dress,' tell me from the beginning how that man 'qjed' you.
Didn't you say you wanted to come to me and explain everything clearly? I'll give you one chance. Tell me everything from beginning to end, without omitting a single action."
"No, I want you to talk while you touch my cunt, and you have to act out what you did back then! Hurry up and start! I want to see how you come to orgasm from being fucked by another man. Don't try to fool me. Change your clothes now, hurry up! Don't dawdle!" I found the pink nightgown with the torn straps in my bag, the one my brother called the "sex suit." I had worn this nightgown when my brother and I met, and he liked it very much, praising how sexy and beautiful I looked in it. But now it had become a symbol of my shame.
(Even now, my brother would occasionally say to me, "You little slut, put on the sex suit, let me fuck you!" Sigh, it has become my brother's special tool for teasing me, but that's a story for later, and it's the result I wanted.
) I turned my back to change my nightgown, but my brother insisted that I change in front of him.
I lowered my head, not daring to look at my brother. I quickly changed into my nightgown, then looked up to see him sitting silently on the edge of the bed. His tightly furrowed brows and icy gaze seemed to pierce my body, sending a chill down my spine.
"Looks like it really wasn't him who slept with you; you obviously seduced him! Look at yourself now, a complete slut begging to be fucked. What man wouldn't fuck you if he saw you like this!" I looked down at myself. My slip dress was already revealing, and now one strap was torn, exposing almost my entire chest.
If I were to meet a man like this, very few men wouldn't have impure thoughts.
But I couldn't explain that I had specifically worn this sexy nightgown because I was video chatting with my brother, and that I was wearing a cotton nightgown over it when I opened the door. G had forcibly taken off my nightgown and roughly torn my slip dress strap.
I knew the more I explained, the worse it would get; my brother would definitely be angry no matter what I said, so I simply stopped arguing.
"What's wrong? You admit it yourself, huh? You're a slutty, cheap woman, dressed so provocatively on the train, how many men did you seduce? And where's the writing on your body? Did you rub it off while having sex with some random guy on the train? There's not a trace left. How long did it take to rub it off? Did you sleep with a lot of random guys?" I didn't expect my brother to be so concerned about this now. If I had known, I definitely wouldn't have washed it off.
But I felt like my brother was just trying to humiliate me. I took off my outer clothes before going to the bathroom to wash, there's no way my brother wouldn't have seen such obvious writing, and he couldn't possibly really believe that I did anything with other people on the train.
"I didn't seduce any other men.
I just washed off the words on my body.
" After a pause, I boldly added, "Brother, you told me to wash them clean.
" "Didn't seduce any other men? So you admit that you seduced G? What a slut! Long time no see, old flame, you must have had a great time, right? How many times did you ejaculate? How many orgasms did your little slut have? What did other people's semen taste like? No, first of all, I should probably talk about how many times you two slept together? It shouldn't have been just the time I found out, right? You must have met often, right? It's just bad luck that I caught you. It shouldn't have been like this. Why weren't you more careful? I ruined your good time and made everyone unhappy.
" My brother became more and more agitated and angry as he spoke, saying a lot in one breath.
Seeing my brother like this, I suddenly felt so sorry for him. It was all my fault that he lost his composure and was so upset.
I crawled to my brother's side and pleaded, "Brother, hit me, scold me, it's all my fault, I'm so cheap, I'm so slutty, I'm so sorry.
I didn't mean to deceive you, I was just afraid you'd abandon me if you found out.
I promise I'll never deceive you again, please, give me another chance, okay?" "You slut, didn't I give you a chance? Now hurry up and tell me! Remember, you have to act out all those filthy, lewd things you did back then.
" I thought to myself, I was forced, how could I possibly have done anything lewd?
But I dared not argue. I believed my brother was just saying it in anger, he couldn't possibly think I had done anything lewd then, he just wanted to humiliate me to vent his anger.
I knelt before my brother, recalling that unbearable scene from that night, and truly didn't know how to speak.
A woman who has been insulted and wronged by someone else would want comfort from her man, but now not only could I not get comfort from my brother, I also had to expose my wounds to him.
Poor baby, but it's all my own fault! It's not about whether I'm pitiful or not, it's about whether my brother will forgive me! My brother's face grew increasingly grim. I couldn't anger him any further; this was my brother giving me a chance to repent. I lowered my head and began to tell him about my past with X and the humiliating experience of that night. Telling him about this to the man I loved made me feel utterly ashamed, but thinking of the hurt I had caused him by hiding it, I mustered the courage to tell him.
When I mentioned accepting G's phone invitation to dinner, my brother sneered, "Hmph, you slut, jumping into an obvious trap. Looks like you still can't forget your old flame.
" I didn't dare argue, and I regretted my decision. How ridiculous I was to think I was so understanding! One wrong step led to another.
My brother was right; I clearly jumped into a trap myself. No wonder he was so angry and mocking.
When I mentioned that we both got a little drunk and went back to my house together, my brother's face grew even angrier.
I could tell my brother wanted to hit me several times, but he held back each time.
I was so scared that whenever I sensed he was about to hit me,
I would cower in fear. I didn't dare fight back, but I was also afraid of being beaten.
When I told him about sleeping with G, my brother shoved me away with disgust as I pitifully clung to him, begging for his forgiveness and acceptance, calling me a shameless slut! In my heart, I resented myself for being so cheap and shameless. Why hadn't I held my ground then? Now, not only was I despised and hated by my brother, but I might also lose his affection. I had only myself to blame! I didn't blame my brother for treating me this way, and I didn't want to lose him. The more he humiliated me, the more I begged him.
When he pushed me away, I shamelessly crawled back to him.
I didn't care about being beaten by him anymore; I'd rather be beaten than have him hate me like this.
When I recounted the night X forced himself on me, my voice trailed off with shame and embarrassment, and I finished the story in a few words.
My brother's emotions exploded at that moment! He yelled at me, telling me to be clear and stop stammering, or he wouldn't listen anymore.
I looked up at him, and seeing the look in his eyes, he became even angrier. He shoved me hard, and I fell off the bed and crashed to the floor.
Thinking about what I had done and my brother's attitude, I was filled with remorse and cried bitterly.
My cries only enraged him further. He suddenly stood up, grabbed my arm, pulled me up, and slammed me back onto the bed. He pounced on me, tearing at my nightgown as he said, "Looks like you're still upset. Do you enjoy being raped? Fine, then I'll satisfy you today!" My silk nightgown was roughly ripped open and thrown on the floor. His eyes seemed to be blazing with fire; I was terrified by his appearance.
My body was naked under my nightgown. My brother, unlike his usual gentle self, gripped my breasts tightly with both hands, kneading and pinching them forcefully.
"Ouch!" I finally cried out, unable to control myself.
This further aroused my brother; he freed one hand to press my head down, then silenced my lips with his own, sucking hard.
I used to love my brother's passionate kisses, but this time it wasn't a kiss at all. As he pressed harder, my lips hurt more and more; he was biting them! Soon, I tasted blood in my mouth. I desperately pushed him away, trying to escape, my lips burning with pain.
I looked at him pitifully, but he ignored me, lowering his head to cup my nipple, gently licking it at first. Just as I was feeling relieved that he had finally stopped punishing me and was finally being gentle with me, that I could finally enjoy his love again, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my nipple. My brother had bitten it hard with his teeth!
I screamed in pain.
He didn't stop when he heard me; instead, he bit harder. It felt like needles were pricking my nipple, like a knife was cutting it. I cried and begged him to be gentler: "Brother, brother, it hurts! It hurts! Ah, ah! He's going to bite my nipple off! It hurts! Please, brother, don't bite anymore! It hurts so much!"
Finally, my brother stopped biting. I endured the pain and looked down. Several rows of obvious teeth marks were left on my fair breasts. Red beads of blood slowly seeped from the nipple that my brother had bitten; it had been broken.
My brother looked at me, his eyes filled with anger and a hint of heartache. This is what he told me later. At the time, I was too scared and in pain to look at him.
My brother gently pinched my bitten nipple with his fingers, and in that instant, I felt a piercing pain again.
He continued to gently rub it, his movements very gentle. Just as I felt the pain subside a little, he suddenly increased the pressure of his fingers, squeezing harder and harder.
I desperately tried to control myself from crying out in pain, looking at my brother with pleading and pitiful eyes.
A ferocious yet excited expression appeared on my brother's face, and he ignored me.
I looked down at my nipple. Under my brother's forceful pinching and rubbing, the small beads of blood that had seeped out slowly grew larger, finally dripping onto my fair, fleshy abdomen.
I finally couldn't bear the pain any longer. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at my brother, sobbing softly.
He seemed to feel some pity for me, but instead of offering comfort, he coldly mocked me: "What are you crying for? Weren't you here to receive my punishment? You can't even stand this? Looks like you didn't come here for punishment, you came here to find a man to fuck you.
What a slutty little bitch, always thinking about men fucking you.
Let me see what your little cunt looks like now.
" As he spoke, he reached down and roughly shoved a finger into my vagina, rummaging around inside a few times before pulling it out and holding it up in front of my eyes.
Good heavens, glistening with vaginal fluid, like silk, from my penis.
I hadn't even realized how much fluid I was producing.
Was I really that cheap? Even being punished and tortured like this by my brother, I was aroused? At the time, I didn't understand, but later I realized that I really am that lewd. I get excited when my brother caresses me, and I still get excited when he tortures and punishes me.
Just being with my brother makes me involuntarily excited.
I really am my brother's little slut, little bitch, little whore, little bitch, little sex slave. That's what I used to say, that's how I tried to please him. Now, without realizing it, it's become an instinctive reaction; I don't need to consciously do it.
Even now, sometimes when I hear my brother angrily scolding me, I might feel an urge to orgasm.
I believe most people wouldn't believe me if they saw what I said, and I don't know if any woman feels the same way. If anyone does, I hope you can reply and we can talk.
I swear, I'm telling the truth. I think this is probably the result of my brother's "training" of me.
Of course, I only understood this later, and I was really surprised by my own reaction at the time.
My brother, equally surprised, said, "Oh, so this makes your little cunt itchy? You're so slutty, so wanton, a born bitch.
Okay, seeing how much you want a man to fuck you, I'll make you feel good today.
" With that, he shoved me hard onto the bed, pressing his body heavily on top of me, straddling my legs and spreading them wide.
I felt his big cock rub against my vaginal opening a few times before thrusting it deep inside! My brother, on top of me, pumped wildly, repeatedly saying, "Fuck you to death, fuck you to death, you little bitch, you little slut.
" For some reason, my little cunt was strange; as soon as his big cock went in, I forgot the discomfort from before. My cunt was wet with juices from his cock, and the slapping sound of his cock hitting my cunt carried far.
I couldn't help but moan loudly, completely forgetting that this was my brother's punishment. I felt that my brother had returned, his heart had returned, his body had returned, returned to my body.
At that moment, I felt that all the pain, humiliation, grievances, and torment I had suffered were worth it.
As long as my brother was still willing to have sex with me, I could accept whatever he did to me—no, I was happy to accept it.
I don't know how long my brother fucked me, I only know that he kept thrusting into me tirelessly, without even changing positions.
This state of my brother, or rather, his energy, always surprised me when I thought about it later.
After all, my brother is more than ten years older than me. Although I admit that he is very good in bed, he was never like this before.
Usually when we make love, my brother would thrust on me for about ten minutes and then let me ride on top while he rested and enjoyed himself. So most of the time, I was on top of him, and I put in more effort than he did.
How come today my brother had been thrusting on me for almost half an hour straight without taking a break?
Later, I even asked my brother what was going on, whether he was deliberately slacking off.
Who knew that my brother would say that he was turning grief into strength! I never thought that I would accidentally discover a secret weapon that made my brother feel good and give me pleasure.
However, I dare not use this secret weapon casually. If my brother gets too grief-stricken and kicks me away, it would be a huge loss.
I can only occasionally provoke him; "turning grief into strength" has become our unique way of expressing ourselves when flirting.
I'm getting off-topic again. I'm just writing this because I'm in a good mood from being fucked by my brother.
At that moment, I felt one word: bliss! I climaxed again and again under my brother. I didn't want to hide or suppress my pleasure at all. I missed and needed the feeling of climaxing under my brother's body so much. I thought I would never get it again.
I screamed loudly and uncontrollably, not caring how many people outside could hear my moans! "Fuck me to death, fuck me to death, ahh, fuck me to death, fuck your slutty baby to death, I love being fucked to death by my brother, I want to be fucked to death by my brother's big cock! Ahh, I feel so good! Ahh, oh, oh, I'm coming, I'm going to die, I'm going to orgasm, oh, oh, ah—woo—" Perhaps my brother couldn't tolerate my unrestrained shouting anymore, he directly covered my open mouth with his big hand, and his thrusting continued without stopping.
When I felt that I had reached my peak again, and felt that my brother was about to ejaculate, suddenly my brother quickly pulled his big cock out of my body, stood up, and I saw my brother stroking his trembling big cock, aiming at the floor, and spraying a lot of thick, white semen from the glans, spraying far away.
My brother actually punished me like this! He didn't ejaculate inside me, he ejaculated all over the floor! Looking at that thick semen, I looked at my brother with aggrieved eyes, because he knew that I always loved it when semen was ejaculated inside my pussy or into my mouth.
But this time it was wasted on the floor! My mood plummeted from heaven to hell! My brother, he actually punished me like this! My brother saw what I was thinking, and he said harshly, "I won't give it to you, that's how it is. Do you want it? Are you craving it? If you want it, go ahead, lick it clean, eat it! I like to see it.
If you think it's too much, you don't have to do it, it's up to you.
" Hearing my brother's words, my heart turned ice-cold.
When my brother was fucking me earlier, I thought he had come back, that he had accepted me again. I was so blindly optimistic.
My brother's punishment continued.
Although I was mentally prepared to be punished and humiliated by my brother, this request still made me feel extremely disgusted and embarrassed.
I was about to say no, but seeing my brother's gloomy face, I swallowed the words back.
I knew that doing what my brother said might not earn him forgiveness, but not doing it meant there was no chance of forgiveness at all.
If my brother asked me to do it, I had to do it. I was my brother's little slut, his little bitch; whatever he said, I had to do unconditionally. Only in this way could I have a chance to win back his heart.
Thinking this, I obediently crawled over, glanced at my brother, bent down, and licked his semen with my tongue.
His semen was thick, almost like it was stuck to the floor. I rolled my tongue up, and the semen stretched into a long, thick white line. As I sucked, it broke in the middle, some falling back to the floor, and some I sucked into my mouth.
I sipped it; the taste of the semen was the familiar, thick rice porridge flavor.
Strangely enough, after licking it, I had the urge to lick it again. I simply couldn't resist the stimulation of my brother's semen; I loved it! Unable to resist, I bent down again, like a little bitch, licking up every last drop of semen my brother had ejaculated on the floor.
When I finished and looked up, my brother was staring at me with a complex expression.
I vaguely saw a hint of reluctance in his gaze, but it quickly turned cold when he looked
at me. He said, "Go to bed. You seem to be enjoying yourself. I'm going to keep making you feel good.
" I wondered what was going on. My brother was usually very skilled, but he would rest after ejaculating. This time, however, he wanted me to continue.
Because he had been thrusting so forcefully and without restraint, unlike his usual rhythm of varying depths, pressures, and paces, my vagina was still aching and hadn't recovered. It seemed a new round of punishment was about to begin.
I lay on the bed, my heart pounding, wondering how my brother would play with me—no, punish me.
I always liked to say that my brother was playing with me, because I felt like I was his doll, and I liked being his doll.
But now, even being his doll has become a luxury.
Just then, I felt a cool, somewhat hard object pressing against my genitals, sliding up and down.
I was a little curious and a little nervous, because I knew it wasn't my brother's big penis.
I opened my eyes, and what I saw was a thick, realistic-looking dildo.
The fake dildo was flesh-colored, very realistically made, and you could clearly see the veins bulging on the shaft.
But this fake dildo was really huge! Much bigger than my brother's big penis, and it felt much bigger than the ones I'd seen foreigners have in porn.
Later, my brother said it was 25 centimeters long and 4 centimeters thick. He was so cruel! He knew my vagina was tighter than most women's. Although I'd given birth before, it was a C-section, so my vagina wasn't damaged. My little pussy had always been admired by all my men for its tightness. But now my brother was using such a huge dildo! Wasn't he obviously trying to ruin my little pussy? Did he really not want the baby anymore and didn't care about damaging it? I was terrified and instinctively tried to push it away. It even had a skin-like elasticity and felt okay.
My brother pushed my hands away and spread my legs wider. I was incredibly nervous.
Then I felt that cold thing begin to push closer into my vagina. My brother slowly inserted the huge dildo into my little pussy.
My little pussy was so tight, how could such a big dildo fit in! My brother seemed impatient. He repeatedly stimulated my vagina with his fingers, switching from one finger to two. My vagina, uncooperatively, started to leak fluid again. My little cunt loves enjoying my brother's finger service; it became much more lubricated.
Just as I was vaguely feeling like I was back to that old feeling, my brother suddenly thrust his large, fake penis in forcefully. Ah! Ah! No! No! It's so big! This huge thing shoved into my vagina, instantly filling it completely, feeling like it was going to burst. The fake penis wasn't just thick, it was also very long; even with a significant portion protruding, it was already touching my cervix.
My brother pushed harder, pushing the fake penis in even further. I felt like it was going to reach my uterus; it hurt so much.
But my brother didn't stop. Although he stopped thrusting deeper, he started pumping.
Because my vagina was so tight and there wasn't much lubrication, my brother's initial pumping was relatively slow.
I occasionally glanced at the point where the dildo and my pussy were joined. Each time it was pulled out, it would turn the pink flesh inside my pussy inside out. When it went in, not only the tender flesh inside would be pulled in, but also a lot of the two labia outside.
Every movement made me feel a tightness, swelling, and pain.
Gradually, my pussy became more and more wet. My brother felt it, and he kept increasing the speed of his thrusts until finally he was ramming the big dildo into my pussy without any mercy.
Although there was more wetness, I still felt a lot of pain. I held my brother's hand because of the pain, but how could I stop him? At this moment, my brother turned on the remote control. Ah! Ah! Ouch! No! The "big dildo" started shaking in my pussy, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, making me feel swollen, painful, sore, and numb. I couldn't help but groan loudly.
I felt like my pussy was going to be ruptured, like it had already reached my cervix. It hurt so much! My moans further aroused my brother, who increased the vibration frequency, the speed and depth of the dildo's thrusts.
Suddenly, I felt the large penis touch something with each thrust, the pricking sensation intensifying; I felt like I was about to faint from the pain.
Unable to bear the agony, I pushed my brother away forcefully, and the dildo finally left my body, leaving my vagina feeling empty.
The pain, however, didn't lessen; instead, it burned even more intensely.
I saw scattered red spots on the sheets, and looking up, the entire dildo was covered in bright red blood.
In horror, I touched my vagina; it was sticky and slippery, and my hand was also covered in blood. Ah! My vagina couldn't withstand this torment; it was bleeding from inside.
Tears welled up in my eyes from the tension and pain.
My brother, seeing my condition, frowned slightly but didn't say anything. He pulled some tissues from the bedside box and began to wipe my wounds.
He wiped very carefully and gently.
For a fleeting moment, I felt as if my brother and I had returned to the way we were before, without any barriers between us. But it was only for a moment. As he was wiping me, he suddenly tightened his grip, scrubbing me hard a few times, and I couldn't help but cry out in pain again.
I looked at him timidly, afraid to say anything about the pain.
Seeing my reaction, he stopped wiping me and said, "What are you yelling about? Why didn't you scream so much when he raped you? Go wash up, I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.
" I tried to stand up, but the tearing pain in my lower body made me sit down heavily on the bed. Even when I was a virgin and had sex for the first time, it didn't hurt like this.
Then my brother reached out his hand, and I carefully took his hand. His palm was warm, but I felt a chill in my heart.
He used a little force, and I was able to stand up. I moved slowly, each step causing a tearing pain in my vagina.
I went into the bathroom and closed the door. My tears could no longer be held back. I turned the shower on full blast, afraid that my brother would hear me crying.
My crying stemmed from physical pain combined with deep remorse. From how my brother treated me, I sensed his intense hurt and betrayal.
His helplessness, his frustration, his heartbreak—the torment he endured was far greater than what my baby suffered.
The harm I caused him was immense; no amount of torment he inflicted on my baby was excessive.
I felt ashamed of my actions; I hated myself. I should have been more resolute from the day G approached me.
I scrubbed my body again, as if trying to wash away all impurity.
Just then, my brother's slightly concerned voice came from outside the door: "What's wrong? Why are you taking so long?" This was the first time I'd heard him speak to me like this since I'd last seen him. I hurriedly dried myself, wiped my eyes, and came out.
"I'm fine, I'm done washing.
" Seeing me, my brother went back to bed.
I lay down naked, face down, close to the edge of the bed.
"Aren't you cold? Come closer and cover yourself. Do you think I'm going to eat you?" He said, pulling the blanket over me rather roughly.
A warm feeling welled up inside me, my nose stung, and I wanted to cry, but I was still afraid of upsetting my brother.
I forced back my tears, mechanically moved closer to him, and pulled the blanket over myself, but I still didn't turn away.
For some reason, the girl who had done something wrong was afraid to look into her brother's eyes.
My behavior made my brother angry again, and he forcefully turned me around.
"What? Are you feeling wronged? Are you angry that I treated you like this?" My brother's reproach made my tears flow uncontrollably again. I said, "I'm not wronged, I'm not angry, I know I was wrong, I'm sorry, brother.
I was really wrong, I hurt you, I made you sad, and I feel even sadder.
I don't want you to be angry, I don't want you to be sad.
I'm willing to accept any punishment from you, as long as it makes you happy.
Don't leave me, don't leave me, okay? Okay?" As I spoke, I turned to face my brother.
When my brother heard my words and saw my tear-streaked face, he was somewhat surprised. He looked at me with complicated emotions, his eyes filled with anger, reproach, and heartache.
As I watched, my brother suddenly hugged me tightly.
I closed my eyes, incredibly nervous, awaiting what kind of punishment he might inflict.
But what I felt was his warm, soft lips and his domineering, clinging tongue prying open my teeth, like a little snake slithering into my mouth, sliding and sucking.
Just as I was about to respond, my brother pushed me away again: "Your mouth smells bad, no more kissing.
Sleep for a while, then we'll eat.
" Hearing his words, I instantly felt happy.
I could tell from his tone that he wasn't saying my mouth was dirty, but that it smelled bad.
He must have remembered that I licked his semen on the floor while we were kissing.
My brother is very sensitive about eating his own semen; it's always like this.
That's why he stopped kissing me, not because he thought I was "dirty"! And then he said we'd eat together after I rested. He was starting to feel sorry for me. From the moment we met until now, I'd been anxiously enduring his punishments, not getting enough rest or food, not even a proper breakfast.
However, the baby didn't feel hungry, but felt weak all over, especially down there, which still had a dull, throbbing, burning pain.
Lying in bed next to her brother, she couldn't fall asleep.
Her head was heavy, thinking about many things, mostly about being with her brother.
Recalling their sex life, the first time they met was the most enjoyable; they played non-stop, having a wonderful time.
The second time, because her brother took her outdoors, in broad daylight and in a public place, felt very exciting and also very comfortable.
The baby actually really likes sex; her brother sometimes calls her "sex baby." Generally, sex feels very good to her.
Only two times were the most unusual. One was during her period, when they made love in the bathroom. The biggest feeling that time was exhaustion, extreme exhaustion.
But this time, the most profound feeling was pain, real pain, even more painful than when she lost her virginity.
At that moment, she felt that her little pussy must have been ruined by her brother, that it must have been torn open. For a moment, she thought about women having severe bleeding, and wondered if she would bleed to death.
However, I later realized I was overthinking it. The vaginal bleeding was mainly due to the dildo pressing against my IUD, displacing it and injuring the cervix inside my vagina, causing some bleeding, but not enough to be considered a tear or heavy bleeding.
My fear stemmed from the pain.
The amount of bleeding was nowhere near as much as when I had my miscarriage due to being sexually assaulted years ago. Let me
briefly explain what happened afterward.
This time, my brother displaced the IUD, and my vagina remained uncomfortable, especially during video calls with him. When I reached orgasm, I experienced a stinging sensation and slight bleeding.
My brother urged me to see a doctor, which revealed the cause, and I eventually had the IUD removed.
If I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have gotten an IUD after my miscarriage.
But I was terrified of the miscarriage and feared getting pregnant again by another man; how could I not get one? I remember going to get the IUD inserted with Yuanyuan, who also advised me against it, asking why a single woman like me would get one. I said that it's precisely because I'm a single woman that I need to get an IUD. Single women are more likely to have unexpected situations. How can I worry about whether it's a safe period? How can I have time to prepare condoms? If I get pregnant again, who can I explain it to? Actually, when I got the IUD, I was feeling very gloomy and didn't want to find another man. I just went with a feeling because my miscarriage experience had terrified me.
Later, I met my brother, and I was even more glad I made that decision. You know, he absolutely refuses to wear condoms, and given my fascination with his semen, how could I bear to let him waste such delicious semen on a condom? Suddenly, it occurred to me, is my baby destined to be bullied by men? Twice my IUD was misaligned by men, twice I bled from being fucked, and then last time I got pregnant from being fucked by a man and then miscarried. Will my baby also be...? My dear fellow wolves, do you think my baby will get pregnant by my brother? Let me tell you something: after I went back to get my IUD removed this time, I haven't had it reinserted.
In the past two years, although my baby and my brother haven't met very often, every time we met, his semen wasn't wasted. It either went into my baby's mouth, or into my baby's vagina, or, once or twice, into my baby's anus.
My brother even said he wants to get my baby pregnant, and then he wants to fuck a pregnant baby, to experience the feeling of fucking a pregnant woman's vagina, and also to experience the feeling of fucking a vagina that has just miscarried! My brother is such a pervert! He doesn't want to lose out at all. He wants everything other men get from Bao Bao! It makes me both worried and excited. My brother has turned Bao Bao into a little pervert! But despite all that, we still try to schedule our meetings during her safe period, at most skirting the line, somewhere between her fertile and safe periods. Even
so, after each meeting and making love, we're still on edge until her period comes, and then I immediately tell my brother the good news.
[The End]

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Brother, I'm sorry.

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