Chapter 1

“Seriously, is this some kind of a joke?” I asked, looking for the camera somewhere, but the look on Wendy’s face was in earnest.

“Oh, no, bro, I’m quite serious! Don’t look for a camera, because there isn’t one. I have a major gift for you and it’s waiting for you in the living room. Trust me, babe. You’ll love it! It’s far better than any other gift that I’ve ever given you before. You’ll love it, I say! Come on, Wayne! Let’s go home, so you can unwrap it!” Wendy told me as our breakfast date ended at the same greasy spoon where my sister and I always ate on Saturday mornings.

“A cutie like Brittany over there?” I pointed to our waitress, a platinum blonde with baby blue eyes and a farmer’s tan, who repeatedly flirted with both of us.

“Yes and no. You’ll see what I mean soon enough. I also got me a present, but it’s on the credit card that you gave me, the one linked to your account, so it will be a mutual twin birthday gift to each of us. Don’t worry, Brittany will still be waiting for the moment that you decide to give her a tumble, a week from now, I dare say. Do yourself a favor sometime, take her out back behind the shop soon, and do her hard from behind. I know that you don’t trust women’s body language, but that’s why you need me.

“I’m your wingwoman, if you will. I can already tell that she’s bi and would love to fuck both of us. She gave me her number, said that it was for both of us, but for now, trust me, you want to wait until after you receive your birthday present, Wayne Patrick Murphy,” Wendy promised me, her green eyes dancing as they rested in her pale, freckled face beneath her coppery hair.

“It’s Wayne’s birthday?” Brittany perked up, sauntering over to us with some serious swagger now.

“And mine,” Wendy told her, “we’re fraternal twins and we just turned twenty-three. We’ve also been humping since we came of age. Yep, that’s right. We do the incest, a lot in fact. I climbed into his bed when midnight struck on our eighteenth birthday and I haven’t left him alone ever since. It’s a wonder that we don’t have kids yet. Maybe I’m barren or he’s sterile. Care to test that theory sometime?”

“Mother may I?” Brittany laughed as I paid the check and tipped her rather well, “anytime either or both of you want into my pants, including today, call me up. I mean it. You got yourself a rather eager booty call, starting today. That’s MY birthday gift to the two of you. How about that?”

“So, what does your boyfriend think of that?” I teased her, curious as to her answer.

“Which one? I’m dating every busboy in the cafe! Take your pick and ask ‘em what they think of it all. Don’t worry about the boss. I suck his dick and bend over now and then to keep him nice and happy. I’ll be blunt here. I’m a slut! I love to fuck! I like cock. A lot. I like pussy, also a lot. And I like ass, guess how much?” Brittany moved her hips just right to grind against as I stood up at last.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say a lot?” Wendy broke in to remind anyone who might forget about her absence (as if they’d forget a ginger).

“Ten-four on that, babe. Hell, I love ass! Especially spreading a woman’s cheeks to slide my tongue down her crack! It’s the sweetest treat in the world!” Brittany told us in a stage whisper by now.

“That’s ... very good to know. Remind me NOT to lose this number, sis! How old are you again?” I inquired, making Brittany blush.

“Nineteen, babe and yes, I know all about that Steely Dan song. I’ll gladly take you along when I slide ‘em down!” Brittany swayed a bit more as she brought us our receipt and reached out to grope both of us in front of her busboys.

“Well, that’s a promising start to the day. I can only imagine what this gift might be that would be worth holding off on Brittany and her magical booty. A gift to both of us, you say? Sweet!” I chuckled, holding hands with Wendy rather brazenly as we walked back to my truck.

It was a relatively quiet drive to back to the old family home, one that my family has owned for three generations now. We had been lovers as well as friends and siblings for a while now, sticking it out through thick and thin, through plenty of breakups with other people, too. After my girlfriend dumped me during the prom itself for standing up for my sister, Wendy led me into a darkened ladies’ room and we fucked for several minutes, barely avoiding notice. Her own boyfriend wasn’t too thrilled that she ditched him, and this led to a very abrupt end to their relationship on his part. Her attitude was that she regretted having to do it, but for her brother, she’d do anything.

“Thinking back to the prom, aren’t you? Yeah, Vanessa was a real cunt and so was Allen, but to be fair, we were cheating on both of them with each other, weren’t we? I still think that it’s funny that both of them came crawling back to us and dated us a couple more times before college ended all of that jazz. I just know that Vanessa was used to being queen bee and also jealous of our close sibling bond, though she never seemed to catch on to our true relationship. Allen was very insecure and paranoid himself, anyway,” Wendy laughed as she unlocked the front door and walked directly into the living room.

I was immediately confronted by the sight of my ex-wife, Tamara, collared, bound, naked, and gagged on the floor. She saw me and began fighting all over again to break free of her bonds, but it was useless and the electrical shock from her collar zapped her back to her senses. She also had a barcode on her bosom and some kind of chastity belt on her lower half, with the key now pressed into my hands by none other than Wendy herself. I noticed that there was an opening in the back of the belt to permit sodomy, much to my amusement and delight.

“Happy Birthday, bro! How many guys get a personal cumslut for their birthday gift, from their own sister, no less? For that matter, how many girls get a personal slut boi for their birthday present, from their own brother, right?” Wendy then led out her own captive, a rather tall and lean fellow with a full head of hair and a medium tan brought on by the Arizona Sun.

This guy looked somewhat familiar as well, with haunted blue eyes and a clean-shaven face (how odd these days, when shaving facial hair had fallen out of use among most men). He reminded me of a classic preppy, yuppie kind of guy, in fact, the sort who wore polo shirts before it even caught on, not to mention had country club memberships. He struggled desperately to get out, but typically, he had the same exact alpha characters on his bar code that Tamara had, marking both of them as convicted felons who were sentenced to penal servitude instead of prison. This meant a fixed term of indenture and there was no early release from that.

“Remember Jordan Marvin, dear bro? The jerk that tried to ruin you fired for sexual harassment. Seems that Tamara and he got hitched, and then he committed some major securities fraud and other crimes of a white-collar nature. Well, you know as I do that the voters stopped coddling the rich, Wall Street type of criminal some time ago, and now, here he is, along with his wife, your ex-wife, Tamara. Seems that they were both involved in a narc ring, too.

“I found them and purchased them at auction. They’re ours for the next decade, so they might as well settle in for a while. I personally doubt that they’ll ever get their freedom back, but time will tell. Here’s the certificate of ownership, of course,” Wendy gave me that document as well as the leash for Tamara’s collar, just in case.

“I see that you got an early start with Jordan here,” I pointed to the mostly nude man in her custody, whose good looks shone through even the bondage gear.

Jordan Marvin wore handcuffs, a shock collar, a bar code with the typical convict-slave’s letters on his bar code, a cock cage complete with a key, a ball gag, and a ball harness attached to a leash that Wendy pulled with her. She smirked as she kissed me very hard on the mouth, much to Tamara’s horror. Then she licked her lips as she produced a butt-plug, forced Jordan’s cheeks apart, and shoved it up his asshole. She produced two remote controls and an identical butt-plug for Tamara to wear if I so chose. I grinned as I pried Tamara’s buttocks open and slid that toy into her lovely ass.

“I bought some of these toys ahead of the slaves, of course. I wanted to be ready for them. I simply loved the shocked faces that they showed when their hopes raised by being bought together completely dashed upon learning that it was me who took them off the State’s hands. I imagine that they knew that they were in trouble when the sister of the man that they mistreated so much had paid for them. It was even scarier for Tamara when she found out that I purchased her for your own use and transferred ownership to you,” Wendy clarified while yanking on the ball harness leash to Jordan’s considerable discomfort.

“So, tell me, Jordan, it really was a trap, wasn’t it, buddy? Well, payback’s a bitch, isn’t it? You used my bisexuality against me, set me up to look gay so that you could get Tamara to leave me. Well, as you can see, my cheating wasn’t limited to men. You went to a lot of extra work for a very small pay-off, didn’t you? The false sexual harassment claim against me, all that jazz. I understand why, though. Tamara’s got a very sweet tush and her pussy’s outstanding, too. Worth the revenge that I’m likely to take on you, though? I have a feeling that’s not so much the case.