New Scars
It was after bathtime.
Cain had been asked to take care of drying and dressing his sister, as the maid who usually did it had taken ill. Despite all his grumblings, the young earl was pleased to be put in charge. His sister, Merryweather, was his pretty little doll. He loved her dearly, and knew that she was the single light in his life, and thus must protect her against the harsh world. Cain kept his 10 year old sister inside more often than not.
Stepping into the pretty, laced bedroom he glanced upon Merryweather, her golden hair dripping onto the rug, a thick, red towel clamped firmly around her shoulders. A teddy bear with one ear lay at her feet, its eyes askew. Cain grinned, enjoying his sister's grumpy frown.
"You know that this is the one and only time, dear brother," she fumed. She loosened the grip on her towel and let Cain kneel down and gently rub her back dry.
Cain admired his sister's flawless skin. Without arousing suspicion, he carefully breathed in her scent. It was sweet and yielding. He paused, then continued to dry her. "Was it a good bath?"
"Mmm it was. I love soap, don't you?"
He didn't answer her question, instead leaning in close to Merry and blowing in her ear, causing her to shriek with laughter and annoyance. She dropped the towel, and Cain took the opportunity to pull his sister onto his lap and tickle her naked body, whilst she giggled continuously. He began to stand, and instinctively Merryweather wrapped her bare legs around her brother's waist, her arms around his neck. He placed her on the bed.
"You are wicked, dear brother..." she insisted, her blue eyes flashing with an indignance that made Cain weak at the knees.
"I am quite. Would you like to see how wicked I can be?" he asked her.
She paused, putting her arms behind her on the bedspread. "Go on, then."
Cain sat on the bed beside his sister, and pulled her back onto his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist. Waiting momentarily, he stared at the fullness of her mouth, before leaning in and kissing it tenderly. He felt Merry protest at his advance, but then relax as he stroked her rosy cheek. Breaking away, he noticed her eyes were still closed, her lips parted.
"Why are you stopping, Cain?" she whispered. "That feels quite lovely, you know."
The earl thought he might go mad with passion. Pulling her closer, he kissed her again, this time with more lust. Little Merry gave a small whimper. Her velvet tongue flicked against his. Putting aside any regrets he ran his long fingers over her tiny back. It felt so wonderful, he thought, to be finally doing this after dreaming it for so long.
Merryweather pushed him away. Her breaths were husky. "I feel so odd, dear brother. What is this feeling in me?"
He marveled at her innocence. "Just lie back upon the bed, my Merry, and I'll make you feel wonderful. Just trust me now. Go on."
She did as she was told, disengaging herself from her brother's waist and lying back on the feathery bed, licking her lips with anticipation.
Cain ran his lips over her silky neck and chest, stopping at the pale nipples. He tweaked one between thumb and forefinger, relishing in his little sister's whimpers of delight. Tracing patterns on her stomach, he licked each nipple once with the tip of his eerie tongue, and then placed it in Merry's belly-button, swirling it. The taste and softness of her caused Cain's sex to bulge in his tight pants.
"Dear brother, my... my private area... it, it..."
"Yes." Cain murmured. "It feels good, does it not? Let me enhance that."
Once more he leaned over his sister. He parted her legs and flicked his finger briefly inside her. Good, he thought, as the wetness lay atop his finger. The earl licked his finger, then bent to insert his finger in her again. Merry shifted, and Cain looked up to see her head lolling back with pleasure. He wriggled his finger, then withdrew it to flick her swollen pleasure button. His sister writhed and whimpered.
Cain's sex was now unbearable to have in pants. He shed his clothes quickly, and threw them aside. The consequences of what he was doing could be disasterous. But at this moment, this time, his head in a frenzy of love and desire for his young sister, he did not think of them. He entered her, and she moaned with pain at this intrusion. Remembering some of his wits, he lay atop her and held her hand.
As they merged, and as they moved together, rocking to and fro, Merry dug her sharp little nails into her brother's back, dragging them slightly. In this way she gave her dear brother new scars. Ones of pleasure, instead of pain.