Chapter 141: Playtime Is Over

Carlos stopped in front of an old-style villa. Pink roses were growing outside, and the lawn was meticulously maintained. He looked up at the first window on the second floor and willed the drapes to open. Alas, he was no magician, and they did not bend to his will. He sighed as he whispered his love’s name: “Crystal….”

He assumed that she was asleep, and he didn’t dare wake her. Instead, he thought - I wonder what she dreams about, and if she dreams of me. This line of inquiry was painful, and he moved his feet around in his shoes, using the physical pain to distract his mind from the emotional pain. At this point in his life, there were a few things that he didn’t regret, and letting go of Crystal was number one on the list.

Carlos walked over to a sycamore tree that was on the lawn and sat beneath it. He looked at his watch and counted the seconds, and as they passed, he thought about a decision he’d been putting off. Finally, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. The call went through, and when the person on the phone picked up, Carlos said, “I accept your condition. But in one year, you have to help me get what I want.” Then, without waiting for a reply, he hung up.

Carlos looked up at Crystal’s window. Again, he wondered - Does she dream of me, as I dream of her? He knew that it was a silly question to ponder. After all, there was no available answer…

***

Leslie shrieked as Arnold forced her into an SUV. “Arnold Lopez!” she cried. “You’re infringing on my personhood!” She was frantic. She had made plans with Crystal, and he was fucking them up. He had caught her trying to sneak out of the house and had put them to bed the moment he had realized what was happening.

The fact that her plans had been overwritten wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that Arnold was making a spectacle out of her. She was known for her strength and independence, but he’d easily overpowered her, thrown her over his shoulder, and made her into a potential laughingstock. If she were seen, she would never recover her dignity. “Will you put me down if I agree to be good?” she asked.

“Fine.” Arnold let her make herself comfortable in the seat beside him, but he had his eye on her. He said, “I am trusting you. If there are any problems, I will spank your bottom so hard that you won’t be able to sit comfortably for a year.”

Leslie blushed. She hated it when he brought up her spankings. On the one hand, it hurt when he abused her. On the other hand, though, the spankings fostered sexual energy between them that was undeniable. Thus, her feelings toward this form of punishment were, to say the least, mixed. Finally, she nodded her head and said, “I understand. I will be fine. I promise.”

Once Leslie had settled down, Arnold took a look at what she was wearing. “Why can’t you dress like a girl for once?” he snapped. She was wearing ripped blue jeans and a military-issue camo t-shirt. Her hair was tucked into a cap, and he could see that she’d bound her medium-sized breasts to her chest. By all outward appearances, she appeared to be a boy. “And you’re not even wearing shoes or socks!” he hissed.

Leslie smiled mischievously and said, “If there is ever a doubt about my gender, we could always return to your bedroom. We could have a Gender Reveal Party. Would you like that?” She could tell by his tinted cheeks and by the growing bulge in his trousers that it was precisely what he wanted - even if he wouldn’t admit it.

By now, they had been on the road for about five minutes, and when Leslie leaned over to rest on Arnold’s shoulder, he shouted at her to get back in her seat. She could see that she was driving him crazy by how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. His knuckles had turned white, and the veins popped out on the back of his hands. She didn’t know it, but when she’d gotten close to him, he’d been tempted to pull the vehicle over and kiss her- and maybe even fuck her.

A voice in Arnold’s head shouted at him - Get a hold of yourself, you pervert. She’s your SISTER, for fuck sake!

A quieter voice timidly interjected, saying - Not by blood, she isn’t... It was true, but this was a voice that Arnold refused to give in to. She is my sister - he told himself - SHE IS!

Without lifting her back from her seat, Leslie’s arm stretched out and began to massage Arnold’s upper thigh. He tried to reprimand her, but his mouth had gone dry, and when he opened it, nothing came out. All he could do was keep his eyes on the road, drive, and pretend that nothing untoward was happening.

Leslie’s hand slipped closer to Arnold’s groin, and the back of her hand brushed against his scrotum. He flinched but managed not to squeal. He knew that she was trying to seduce him, but he didn’t know how to put off what was quickly beginning to look like the inevitable.

Leslie playfully squeezed Arnold’s thigh, and in a seductive tone of voice, she said his name.

"Wh-wh-ut?" he stammered.

“Do you like my legs?” she asked, “I know that most men have an addiction to breasts, but I’ve seen you looking at my legs. Many times...”

Arnold scowled, and instead of answering, he put his hand over hers and applied pressure. She tried to pull away, but instead of letting go, he squeezed harder. Tears began to stream from Leslie’s eyes, and she began to whine. “Arnold Lopez,” she cried. “Please stop. Are you - trying to murder me?”

“Why not?” he snapped. “You were right when you said that I like your legs. I like them so much that I want to cut them off and soak them in formaldehyde. Do you want me to do that?”

Suddenly, Leslie’s ire began to rise. “fuck you!” she roared. “Would it kill you to admit that you’re sexually attracted to me? I’ve seen the way you look at me and the way your body responds when you put me over your knee!” His hand was on her hand, but her hand was still on his thigh. Thus, it was a piece of cake for her to move it up another inch and grip his massive erection. Now it was her turn to apply pressure. And squeeze.

“If you don’t get your hand off of my manh**d,” Arnold yelled, “I will kill you and cut off your legs.

“You won’t,” Leslie said confidently. Arnold let go of her hand and said, “Just get your hand off of my thigh. Playtime is over.”

Leslie lifted her hand obediently, but before he could appreciate the relief, she lifted herself out of her seat and sat in his lap. Right away, she could feel his erection pressing against her buttocks, and she giggled lasciviously.

Arnold cried out, “What the fuck?!?! I’m driving here.”

“So? Drive,” Leslie replied. Then she whispered into his ear in an incredibly sexy voice, “Would it kill you to admit that you’re sexually attracted to me?