How I Became Big Sister’s Sex Slave

This all started the summer I turned seventeen. My older sister, Karen, was home from college for the summer. Karen was nineteen and had been away at school for awhile, so at first it seemed weird to be living with her again. Karen and I had always gotten along alright, typical brother and sister stuff, but we were totally different types of people. I’m a tall, skinny kid, kinda quiet and shy. I have a few close friends at school, and I’ve even had a couple of girlfriends, but definitely no major relationships, and I’m certainly far from experienced in the sex department. Karen, on the other hand, is more or less my exact opposite–outgoing, extremely social and friendly. When she was in high school Karen was a total party machine–Week nights, weekends, whenever. She’d always had tons of different boyfriends and was really popular. In fact, she was such a wild child that I think my parents were pretty relieved to send her off to college. Also, although being her brother I’d never really noticed it, everyone at school (at least all the guys) thought Karen was totally hot: shoulder length natural honey blonde hair, full, pouty lips, blue eyes, large, firm breasts, a tight curved ass and legs to die for. She tanned year round, either laying out (in the summer) or at a tanning booth (in the winter) so year round she had a perfect complexion. Yeah, my sister was hot, and she knew it. She got a kick out of teasing all the guys who were constantly checking her out, flirting with them and driving them crazy. Whenever any of my friends from school would come over to the house Karen would really put on a class act, wearing her sluttiest outfits, super short skirts, virtually non-existent tops that showed off her cleavage really well. She would “accidentally” drop something and bend down really slowly right in front of them until her ass was practically totally exposed, or lean down to talk to them and show plenty of cleavage as her top opened. This drove my friends wild, but they did seem to visit a lot.
Anyway, this particular summer when Karen came home she seemed different–still totally hot, with the party girl attitude, but different around me, friendlier somehow. The moment she walked in the door, before she even tried to find mom and dad, she ran over to me and gave me a big hug.
“Hey Brian, long time no see! Did you miss me?”
I was a little taken aback by this but managed to mumble, “Yeah, I guess so.”
She laughed and then stepped back and said, “Hey check it out, you like it? I just had it done a month ago.” Karen pulled up her top a little to expose her stomach and a nice gold bellybutton ring.
“Yeah, it’s cool. Mom and dad’ll probably freak, though.”
Again that low, throaty laugh. “Who says they have to know?” Still laughing, she walked into the kitchen.
Things were pretty normal for the first few weeks of summer. I’d gotten a part time job at a nearby supermarket and Karen was out with friends a lot so we only saw each other in passing. The only thing that took a little getting used to was having to share a bathroom again. Karen wasn’t exactly the neatest person and our bathroom was always cluttered with “girl stuff”: makeup scattered all over, panties, bras, even lingerie. One day I found a bright red thong lying on the floor in front of the clothes hamper. Absent-mindedly I picked the thong up, intending to toss it into the hamper when I noticed a dark spot in the crotch area. I fingered it and it was still slightly damp. Shit! My sister must have just barely taken these off! Quickly shutting the bathroom door all the way, I raised the thong to my face and sniffed it, inhaling deeply. The rich, musky aroma was unmistakable and my cock stiffened immediately in response to the intoxicating scent. Just then I heard someone coming up the stairs and then Karen saying, “Brian, are you in there? Hurry up, I really gotta pee.” I froze, the thong still raised to my face. Damn, what was I thinking, sniffing my own sister’s panties and getting turned on by it? What the hell was wrong with me?
After a moment or two I managed to reply, ” I”ll be out in a second.” Blushing, I tossed my sister’s thong into the hamper and then flushed the toilet, ran some water and pretended to wash up long enough to allow my hard on to dwindle.
As soon as I opened the door, Karen shot past me into the bathroom. “About time, I really gotta go.” As she passed me her hair brushed against my face and I caught just a slight hint of musky perfume. My cock twitched in response and I quickly closed the door and hurried downstairs. As I went, I couldn’t help wondering about just how Karen got that damp spot on her thong, and just thinking about it, about her, was getting me aroused. What the hell was going on with me? I never thought of myself as a real pervert (no more so than any other typical teenager with raging hormones anyway) but here I was getting a throbbing hard on at the sight of my sister’s panties and the scent of her perfume. I tried to dismiss it as being simple horniness, but still my thoughts lingered on my sister for a long time.
Everything changed when mom and dad went away for their annual week’s vacation. Since Karen was the oldest, they informed us, they would be leaving her in charge. Needless to say, Karen enjoyed this immensely, and I had to endure a lot of teasing about her being the boss and comments like, “Ok Brian, you better do what I say, remember who’s in charge around here.” Karen also took advantage of this opportunity to turn our house into party central almost as soon as mom and dad’s car left the driveway. She partied hard for two days (and nights) in a row, and there was never any shortage of people (mostly guys, I noticed) who were willing to party with her. Each night ended the same way: My sister, drunk off her ass and already half naked, stumbling upstairs to her bedroom with whichever lucky guy she’d chosen to be her boy toy of the evening. I would never admit it to myself fully, but in the back of my mind I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy as I watched her stagger up the stairs draped all over some anonymous stud.