Militant Domination

Part 1: It's Good to be Home

I went downstairs and found Garrett watching tv. I've only been home for two days, but could already tell that he was a little upset that he now had to share the basement with me. Having not seen him for so long, I figured I should rile him up a bit, so I plopped down next to him on the couch and picked up the remote. Without a word of explanation or consultation, I exited his show and started surfing Netflix. 

"Hey, what the hell? Are you blind or something, I was watching that." This was a better response than I had hoped for- boys are so damn naïve.  He reached for the remote in my hand, but I caught him by the wrist and viciously twisted his arm. 

He winced and fell off the couch, trying to orient his body into a more natural position, but I just ratcheted up the pressure. "God damn you bitch! What is your problem?" And there it was, all the reason I needed to go at him. I guided him to his feet, then grabbed him under the armpit and used my weight to sling him to the floor. He tried to get to his feet quickly, but I could tell that the throw had hurt him, and before he could get anywhere I was already on him. I chopped his arms out from under him and rolled him over onto his back, sitting on his stomach and easily pinning his arms under my legs.

At only 15, I have 5 years of maturation plus 6 months training in the Navy as an edge on him- and this included plenty of weight lifting and rolling on the mat for both wrestling and jiu-jitsu. With ease I pulled up one of his arms and slide my leg under his neck, sitting back contently into a one-armed triangle choke. 

"Oh, nothing to say now? But you were so big and strong only a second ago, what happened to that?" He didn't say anything, but looking into his big blue eyes, I could see his façade of teenage confidence dwindling away and some very real discomfort taking its place. "Come on you big baby, I'm not even squeezing yet. And besides, there's a lot worse stuff that I could do to you, things that would have you begging me to stop. Come on buddy, let me hear how grateful you are." 

It was true I wasn't applying much pressure yet, but it doesn't exactly feel good to have my 150 pound frame sitting on your chest and throat like this. He sat stony faced for a moment, but it only took the slightest twitch from my thigh muscles and suddenly words were tumbling from his mouth. "Thank you-, thank you Jesse so much for not hurting me. Please, let me go now." 

I liked the sound of that very much. "Good. Good." I smiled wide, "Now tell me how beautiful I am. Shower me in your admiration." 

With less hesitation this time, he complied, "You're a beautiful, strong woman. I love you, more than anything probably, and I feel blessed to have you as my sister."

He was definitely layering on the sarcasm, which just made everything all the more rich. It never ceased to amaze me how stupid boys could be, even in as helpless position as I have Garrett in right now, but it just makes it all the more fun to break them. 

"You're silly, you know that?" I tightened my legs and watched as my thighs expanded and collapsed onto his weak neck. I covered his mouth with my hand- I didn't really like when they yelled at me, crying was thrilling, but yelling was just obnoxious-, and watched his scrunched up face turn from a dull, frightened red, and into a dark, panicked burgundy. 

Then, I relaxed my powerhouse muscles and took my hand away from his mouth. "Are you ready to cooperate now?" I asked, feeling like a vixen. 

"I didn't do anything," he said out of breath, "why are you doing this?"

"Why don't you stop me?" It was a fair answer, I thought. He said nothing, but his eyes glazed over and I knew I had defeated him. He was mine now. 

I hadn't always been this way. It started once I was a few months into my training of jiu-jitsu in the military, when I learned that I could pretty easily control just about anyone who wasn't also trained in the martial art. No matter how big or how cocky, if they didn't know how to roll, it wasn't a contest. After a while, I began targeting the newbies more purposefully- so I could revel in that special feeling on domination. 

This might make me a psychopath, or at least a sadist, but I don't care. Yeah, it's a little twisted and weird, especially now that I'm doing it to my little brother, but honestly, it's like I told him: 'If you're not going to stop me, then I'm going to just go ahead and do it.' 

"That's what I thought. This happens to you because you can't stop it. And it's going to keep happening. I'm your sister and you are my slave, for as long as I want to have you. Do you understand this?"

His lip quivered, and tears and a streak of clear snot smeared his face, but he didn't say anything. 

"Garrett?" I asked one last time. 

"I understand."

"That's good little buddy," I ruffled his hair, "but before I let you go, I want to hear it from you. Why are you crying between my legs right now?"

"Because I'm a loser, because I'm your slave and you are my Goddess."

His eyes refused to met mine. I smiled again, "That wasn't bad, we'll work on it. Just don't you forget it." I started squeezing with full force, bringing the brute of my thick thighs down on his small neck. He wormed and cried, tried to buck me off and pull my thighs apart, but I stayed strong, staring down into his eyes until he finally went to sleep.