Daryl hated how late the after-school clubs went. The bat did have pride in being a mathlete, but coming home an hour after everyone else felt like torture. Miss Greene, his homeroom teacher, dropped him off with a smile he tried not to pay attention to. She was nice enough, which was the problem. He wanted to be annoyed, to be justified in his frustration. 


“I’m home!” the bat shouted inside the house. He let his book bag fall to the floor knowing full well the books and papers were sturdy enough for the fall. No one answered him back, but he knew his little sister was there from the inherent, if muddled, echolocation they all had. She was lounging on the couch, likely playing with her phone. He grunted, “Typical,” he said as low as he could. 


Harriet was in the fifth grade and he was in the seventh. One could be forgiven for making a mistake given how the bat girl dressed. Her red hair was dyed purple and she wore it in a style that he sarcastically described as ‘going through a lawnmower,’ with half of it buzzed save for a hanging sideburn and while the other hung over her head, stopping at the neck. She wore far more piercings than any ten-year-old should wear, though, in Daryl’s case, that number should have been zero. No other kid walked around with a barbell piercing on her brow and lip, or three rings on her ear. If they had any piercings it was usually pink and girly, but Harriet chose cold steel to accentuate her look. Emopunk goth she called it. Daryl wasn’t convinced that was a thing.


That all paled in comparison to the audacity of having a collar locked around her neck. Not a choker, an actual leather collar she pestered their father into buying for her, along with the many other assorted gear she littered her room with. For the self-proclaimed slave, she had a lot of leeway and knew how to use it.


“Hey loser,” Harriet didn’t look up from her phone when he passed the couch. Daryl thought about giving her the middle finger but decided against it. He was too hungry from doing math problems to care. “You solve any impossible math problems yet?”


“That’s not what I’m doing after school.”


“Could have fooled me with how Rosebud treats you nerds.” 


Finding it hard to ignore the tone of her voice, Daryl opened the fridge for his fruit yogurt. Mango-flavored, his favorite. He’d been thinking about it all day having forgotten to pack it for lunch, and grew increasingly worried about there being no cup of it in the fridge. He scoured the box, finding no trace of it until turning around and seeing it open. With a spoon stabbed inside and halfway eaten. 


“What the fuck?!” Daryl roared, stomping to the yogurt thief. His sister sat with her legs spread wide, naked from the waist down just as he was. For once his anger stopped him from glancing at her bare pussy, ignoring the feelings he actively suppressed whenever seeing it. “Did you eat my yogurt?” 


“Probably,” she said, still on her phone.


He blinked. “Probably? It had my name on it!” 


“I was hungry.”


“You didn’t finish it.”


“Yeah, 'cause it was mango. I hate mango.”


Daryl balled his two-fingered fists. She always did this. Taking what was his and using their father’s ownership of her as an excuse. He’d barely call it that, given how exhausted his father was whenever she pushed the old man to do something. Harriet wasn’t a slave, just some frustrating cosplayer holding her own leash. 


“If you think dad is going to protect your–”


“Oh yeah, Dad told me to tell you.” Her green eyes looked him over, face still neutral as her emo namesake demanded. “He’ll be home late tonight, business meeting.I told him I only got a B on my history test, so as punishment I gotta obey you until he gets home. I told him you don’t have the balls to take advantage of that. You gonna prove me wrong?”


Daryl lost his words. His fists unclenched and his face fell. She was to obey him until their father got home? Him? Daryl never got a chance to order her around with their dad stepping in and taking control. He’d spent so many dinners listening to her suck him off under the table, so many nights hearing her beg him to fuck her only for the sharp cries of a spanking to echo through the thin walls. He peeked at her mound. It was pushed forward, with a glint of arousal seeping through it. 


She wanted it. His cock stirred in agreement, but Daryl knew better. Knew that a slave like her, self-proclaimed or not, shouldn’t get what she wanted so easily. 


“Go to your room,” he ordered, throat more parched than he expected.


Harriet rolled her eyes. “Wow, so original. Am I to wash out my mouth with soap?” 


“That’s an order, follow it. I’ll meet you there.”


His little sister’s bedroom was stuffed with bondage gear and sex toys. Harriet adopted the slave ‘lifestyle’ six months ago, breaking the lock on her door and convincing their father to drill loops in the ceiling where she hung straps, ropes, or sex swings. All bought through pestering their dad. He remembered when she still had regular toys filling her drawers, but now they were sorted based on what debaucherous instrument she desired. One for cuffs, ankle, and finger cuffs designed for bat hands. Another for dildos, all unused from what he’d heard. Gags, impact tools, blindfolds, pain play toys, there was a drawer for each and marked for it. It made Daryl sick at first, but now it gave him a breadth of options. 


She was lounging on her bed when he arrived. Another mistake. “Get up,” he ordered with his chest puffed out with authority. Harriet rolled her eyes again, this time with an annoyed sigh, and got up. First thing he did was grab her phone and toss it aside. 


“Hey!” she snapped.


“Slaves don’t need phones,” he argued, pulling her up by the loop of her collar. “That’s what this marks you as, right? A slave.” Next, he took a pair of scissors, severing her black top. “Slaves don’t need clothes either unless their owner demands it. And I always hated that top.” 


“You’re going to regret that when Dad gets home.”


“And you need to learn to speak when spoken to.” He pointed to the bed and snapped his fingers, “There, on your back. Spread your legs as wide as possible.” Daryl noticed a hint of color on her cheeks at the command but chose not to address it. From her drawers, he pulled out cuffs, a jawbreaker ballgag, a few clothespins, and a flogger, though the last of which he hid. Harriet didn’t put in any effort to spread herself when he returned to the black bed, so he used rope to stretch her legs apart, having the head and footer of the bed be the anchor points. Her armwings were spread the same way, leaving her unable to move a single limb by the time he shoved the gag into her mouth. 


“You’re a shit slave, you know that?” Daryl ignored her protests. She looked cute with the gag stretching her jaw. He wondered if he could convince his dad to keep her gagged when he got home. It’d be an improvement. “I know this whole obsession started when your best friend’s sister turned their best friend into their slave, but you clearly don’t understand the point of it. I barely do either, but at least I know a slave doesn’t demand shit from their owners, yet you pester Dad every night to fuck you. He’s not into your pussy, sis. Stop asking.”


Her replies were too garbled by the gag. She made a delightful sound when he fondled her flat chest, flicking her nipples to get them tight enough to clip a wooden peg directly over the nipple. A definite improvement. 


Circling back around to her cunt he first noticed how wet she’d gotten. She wasn’t dry at the couch, but her cunt was practically soaking at the predicament. He wasn’t surprised how much a slut like her was enjoying the situation. He was in the same boat by how hard he was. “It’d be so easy too,” he said, lining his cock up above her cunt. “I know you’re still a virgin. Dad won’t take it. I could just slip in and take it right now. Would you like that, sis? Like your big brother to take some slave’s virginity?” 


She was nodding. Whatever act she had going on before was subsumed by a need. A desire. Unfortunately for her, Daryl wasn’t there to answer her desires. “Too bad,” he said, pulling out the flogger, “I think I’ll turn it purple instead.”


Eyes normally locked in an apathetic glare went wide at the latex-tailed flogger Daryl raised above his head. Muscles twitched to escape, her crotch reflexively trying to avoid the blow but the bonds were too tight to let her move an inch. The reflective black tail cracked the air upon impact with her mound. He felt the strike reverberate through the handle to his hand then up his arm, shivering throughout his body in a single moment of euphoria. 


Harriet screamed into her gag a second later. Her toes curled when her legs failed to buckle. Daryl had watched enough porn with whips and paddles to know there could be a pause between the strike and the pain, as well as a moment of agony when nerves bristled with the new sensation. His next breath felt like the first he’d ever taken. With a smile as hard as his cock, he raised the flogger and struck again. Then again. And again. 


“Dad n-never did anything more than spank you,” he said, still striking, “I bet they hurt, but you can tell he’s holding back. He doesn’t want to hurt you. H-He’s just playing along with your sick little fantasy. Anything for his little princess.” 


He couldn’t see her expression as her head lolled off the side of the bed. But from her breathing, he knew she was enjoying it. It still hurt, the red marks on her mound weren’t just for show, but some sick part of her liked it. He wiped his mouth, not realizing how much he’d been drooling. Pre oozed from his cockhead, and he decided to fix that problem. First, he needed to grab another thing from her drawers. 


“If daddy’s little princess wants piercings? Fine. If she wants bondage gear, he’ll be apprehensive but will give it to her. But if I want a new computer, I need to earn it.” Growling, he circled to her head. Rivers of purple mascara stained her cheeks and her forehead, the latter from hanging upside down. He spat without thinking, having nothing but contempt for her damn look and smiling at how she reeled when it hit her eye. “Must break his heart to know his little girl is some wannabe slave. Maybe if I push you over the edge you’ll return to normal. Maybe I’ll get a new computer then.”


She didn’t fight back when he loosened her gag. Though the moment she gasped for air he stuffed his cock down her throat. “Or maybe I’ll just keep you as mine? Fuck going to school, you can sit in the corner of my classroom with the rest of the slave students, choking on cock when I’m not studying. At least this hole is worth something given how much you get Dad to fuck it. That’s a way better use for it!” 


She choked and spasmed but he didn’t let up, slamming his full cock down the straight narrow path of her throat. With a riding crop from her drawers he swatted her flat tits, first clearing her of the pegs then turning her nips red. “Maybe Dad should let you pierce your nips like you keep asking. Get some rings so you can hang a sign that says whore everywhere rather than a shir–” 


His cock spasmed. Daryl lurched forward, head hanging just above her stomach as he filled his sister’s maw. He hadn’t jacked himself in several days, leaving plenty to fill her gullet. Harriet hacked semen when he pulled out, and instead of the distasteful glare he expected she lapped it up like a hound in heat. His cock stayed hard, no, it grew harder at her debased expression. 


“You little whore,” Daryl growled, stopping his seed from slipping by stuffing the gag back in. “You’re really just insatiable. It’s no wonder dad’s tired all the time, you don’t let him rest.” She needed to be punished for it, just as she needed to pay for taking his yogurt. Truth be told, Daryl had long since stopped thinking about the yogurt when he arrived to the bedroom, and the thought lingered in the back of his mind when he returned to flogging her cunt. By the time he stopped, it vanished, as did any part of her mound that wasn’t in pain. 


He laid his cock over it, watching her reel in the tiniest pleasure on a hill of pain. “I could fuck you right now,” he said, “It’d hurt, but I’d take away your virginity. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having your pussy fucked after your big brother taught it a lesson?” He ground his shaft between her lips, delighting at seeing her shiver. Harriett nodded, her gagged cries sounding close to begging for him to do it. To claim her, send her to new heights of pain and humiliation. 


“Sure, I’ll fuck you. But I don’t give a shit about what you like!” He pulled back and rammed his cockhead into her tight asshole. Their combined fluids worked well enough as lube, lube she deserved anyway, to sink past the untaken door. Harriett gnawed at her gag, head back in silent cry while her brother pushed deeper. He backed out only to dive down, holding her thighs for leverage. “Congrats on losing your ass virginity, bitch,” He cackled, ignoring that his virginity was lost too. “Maybe we’ll keep it that way, save one hole for no use.”


“The hell is going on?!” 


Daryl’s back went ramrod stiff. Still with half his cock inside his sister, he turned his head back. His father stood in the doorway, baggy eyes wide and one hand froze midway loosening his tie. Harriett didn’t move save for heavy breaths that filled the void between father and son.


“H-Hey dad,” Daryl said, glancing at his sister’s clock. It was almost eight. They’d been at it for nearly four hours. “Welcome back. Did the meeting go ok?”


“Y-Yeah…” the older bat nodded, “I see you’re, um, enjoying your sister?”


“You said I could,” Daryl gulped and pointed to the bound bat, “S-She said I had complete control over her as punishment for her history test. You told her.”


“I did?” The bat blinked, confused. Then he nodded with realization. “Yeah, yeah I did. Sorry, I'm still fried today. It looks like you two are enjoying each other so don’t let me keep you. In fact, why don’t you take responsibility from now on?”


Daryl, expecting his heart to sink, found it in his throat. “Really?”


The bat nodded and brushed it aside as if tossing a burden, “Yeah, yeah, she’s your problem now. Just remember to use a condom if you fuck her pussy. I don’t want grandkids with sibling parents.”


“You don’t need to worry about that, dad.” Daryl grinned, “Can you close the door when you leave?”


“Just finish up fast, because I’m ordering pizza.” 


Their father shut the door behind them. Daryl looked to Harriett, finding her smiling despite the jawbreaker gag. He shared the sentiment and pulled the gag off, “Just so you know, there’s going to be some changes around here.” 


“Oh, I expect it.” Harriett said, unimpeded by the session, “Question is if you can keep up. You’re proving better than Dad so far.”


“Oh, I’m going to do more than keep up,” Daryl said, though his confidence wavered for a moment so he stuffed the gag back in before she could respond. “I’m going to outpace you.” 


Something about her gaze told him he wasn’t entirely accurate. The bat was eager to prove his sister wrong.