Me and Rachael Part 2

This is the sequel to ‘An odd experience with my sister Rachael’. I liked the feedback from the first story, even though some of them were quite ridiculous. Tell me what you think of this one (with the exception of people who can’t read above the 6th grade level please).

About two weeks after the ‘rape’ experience with my sister, things finally snapped. I had been baffled for the past two weeks about what had happened. I knew for sure that she had fucked me, but I was still confused. She hadn’t said anything to me about it, nor changed her personality or attitude at all around me. She was still the same, charming, person she had been before. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

What started bothering me though was that she thought she could do that to me, and expect me to do nothing about it. It was like she violated me sense of manhood. I started getting the mentality that ‘I was the man, girls don’t do that to guys, guys do that to girls!’

A lot of this stuff started bothering me. I felt violated because she though she could do that to me, and I decided I’d show her what it was like.

I started going through her room quite a bit, any chance I got. I found all of her ‘secret stashes.’ I found tons of sex toys that I never knew she owned. Dildos and vibrators mostly, a lot of small miscellaneous sex items, and of course…the hand and ankle cuffs she used to strap me down.

I found a journal (which I didn’t know people still kept), but it said nothing interesting about her little escapade with me. All it had written for the day it happened was:

Bad day at school.
Good day at home (Nicky)
And underneath was a large smiley face and heart drawn.

The most interesting thing I found though was at least 30 Polaroid’s of Rachael. Rachael naked, Rachael with toys stuck inside her pussy, close-ups of her face, of her ass, of her tits. I flicked through the pictures, seeing all the pictures, and being very turned on. But when I got to the bottom of the pile I almost shit myself. There, layed out on the bed, hands and ankles chained, naked…was me! I was obviously sleeping, she must have taken the pictures after we were done and I had drifted off to sleep. I shoved the pictures in my pocket and put everything else away.

It was for sure now; I was going to get back at Rachael. I had blackmail now, so she couldn’t possibly tell on me. I decided the next day would be the day. Our parents both worked until about five that night, so I would have plenty of time.

I layed in bed that night, and planned it out, it was going to be perfect. I knew I was calling it ‘revenge’ but deep down I just wanted her again. That day she made me feel so good, and I wanted it back so badly. I found myself only masturbating to thoughts of her, and suddenly she was the most beautiful thing to me. I decided I would do what I had to do, then talk to her about it later and figure things out.

-The next day….-

I walked in the door and went straight to my room. I knew she would be home shortly and wanted to be ready. I lit my after school cigarette and checked my hair. I put on a little cologne and even clipped my fingernails. I didn’t want to seem ‘repulsive’ to her for some reason, even though I was about to rape her.

I sat finishing my cigarette and getting my nerves together. I wondered if she had been this nervous when thinking about doing what she did to me. I checked my pocket for the folded piece of paper. It had about four of the Polaroid’s I had found photocopied onto it. I didn’t want to use the real things for the blackmail.

I heard her car pull in as usual, and stubbed my Camel out in the ashtray. I stuck a piece of gum in my mouth and stood up, straightening out my shirt, and adjusting my jeans, making sure I looked nice. I felt like I was about to go out on a date or something, it was so strange.

I could hear Rachael out in the kitchen getting a drink, then the floorboards creak a little as she walked into her room and closed the door. I heard the sound of 96.1 come on her radio, and went for it.

I walked out of my room and down the hall until I got to her door. I could hear some pop song playing through the door as I stood there a moment, getting my thoughts together.

I turned the doorknob, and with my knee pushed it open hard. I stormed in trying to look mad. She was kneeling down rummaging through a drawer when I walked in. When she heard me enter she turned around with a priceless look of fear and surprise on her face.

“Nick….” She tried to say as I walked up to her and grabbed her hair. I lifted up on it, but she stood up when she realized I was about to pull her up if she didn’t herself. She screamed, and tried to say something again but I put my hand around her mouth. I was standing behind her, still grabbing onto her hair firmly with one hand, and covering her mouth with the other.

“Shut up bitch! Just shut the fuck up!” I said to her in a loud, almost yelling voice. Hearing myself say it was incredible. I felt this enormous sense of power as I shoved her onto her bed.

She fell onto her bed and hurried to the far side, against the wall with her back against the wall and her knees folded up, covering her face. She looked up at me, fear filled her eyes and I reached in my pocket and pulled out the folded up paper. I jumped on the bed and shoved it in her face.

“Look at this bitch…!” but she stayed in her defensive position, beginning to sob a bit.

“Look at it!” I yelled again

She slowly grabbed it from the bed next to her where it had fell, and slowly opened it up.