The bedroom window frame rattles in annoyance at a fractious wind. From my vantage point at the doorway I watch Darren startled as a frightened rabbit, swiftly smother his erection with the bed sheet. I dart back, out of sight. The window rattles again, and I hear a sigh of relief. I peek into the bedroom. He’s relaxing against the pillow. He’s thrown back the sheet once more to revel in his lewd nakedness. His hand caresses his organ and a thin smile plays at my lips as I hear him murmur my name, 'Delilah'.

"You dirty little tosser…." I snarl.

He leaps in alarm, twisting around.

His eyes widen as he spies me, his step sister, standing at the doorway. Hands on hips, my glittering dark brown eyes narrowing, mirroring a look of contempt on my face, whilst trying to restrain an urge to giggle. He moves to cover himself with the sheet but I lunge forward and jerk it away, leaving him exposed.

"You know what mum used to say… About twisted little pervs like you." I stand above him, my head tilted to one side. I position myself so he can see just under my short cream tennis skirt to my white cotton panties..

"Please Delilah." He snivels, incongruous with his rigid organ that refuses to deflate.

"Mum always said that men who can’t control themselves should be controlled." I growl. I fold my arms under my breasts pushing them up, forcing my nipples against my thin white T shirt. He swallows, his cheeks deepening red. "Dirty Darren's naughty Dick." I snigger. I lean over him, my breasts swinging, and encircle his testicles with my fingers. "What delights have we here?" I mock, his face barely inches from mine.

He smells the soft cologne of La Femme, mixed with a hint of sweat from my recent exertions. His penis twitches in anticipation - not unnoticed. I close my other hand over his shaft and he sucks in a sharp breath. "Fifty bucks for a hand job…" I offer.

"What?"

"You heard. I’ll toss you off for fifty bucks." I knead him gently, ceasing suddenly as I feel the first hint of response from his testicles.

"Yes, oh God, yes." He grunts.

"Say please!"

"Yes, please, please Delilah." He widens his legs, in a feminine motion.

When men are aroused they are putty in our hands. But once they've discharged, they are free of the carnal obsession that holds them in it's ruthless grip. That girls is what you have to remember. You don't control men by giving them sex. You control them by depriving them of it!

I've had mature merchant bankers, real power brokers, prostrate in front of me, begging me to satisfy them. I've glared down at them contemptuously, demanded they kiss my boots. And they do. All because I've a sexual stranglehold over them. But I realise that once that is gone, I'm just another pussy, to be cast aside as is their want.

My mother taught me well about men's frailty. I remember when I first caught Darren wanking off. His father had only married my mother twelve months before and I was aware of the authority she already exercised over him. So when I coyly asked Darren what he was doing he was embarrassed and tried to dismiss it as a 'boy's thing'. But I was persistent and took his stiff penis in my hand. Being that much older, nearly three years, I was of course, very aware of what I held. Excuse the pun; but I had him in the palm of my hand. And I knew full well, the power I enjoyed over him. My mother had already spelt it out for me and, the girls at school had discussed the whole subject in depth.

Men are programmed with an overwhelming primeval urge for physical sex. It's not their fault. Their bodies are poisoned with an excess of testosterone, that drives them wild with lust for a female or, if such is their inclination, a male. To satisfy their carnal desires, they will do anything. That the social structure of civilisation has changed is of no relevance, men have been such since Genesis.

Girls are different. True, we enjoy good sex, but it isn't nearly so compulsive. And our values are different. I grew to understand this at a very early age.

So, that day when I caught him at it, I persuaded him to show me what he was doing. His face was flushed as I ultimately completed the task for him. My feigned innocence heaped guilt upon him as his climax slid into history. Two days later I gave him another freebie. Then let him touch me. Finally allowed him to slip his organ into me. After that, the fish was well and truly on the hook. I initially posed my financial demands as gifts. He complied. Later they became cash. Cash up front, for when their balls are empty, men are far less inclined to generosity. At one point I teased him almost to breaking point, until he allowed me to photograph him - very explicit photographs. I gave him a freebie that day. But with the photos I was now in total control of him.

One day, in those early days, as he stood in front of me, trousers at his ankles, erection on display, the door flew open and my mother appeared. We all three froze into a tableau of disbelief.

"Darren said he had something to show me." I gabbled. Darren was so horrified he hadn't even thought to cover himself. My mother walked slowly over and studied the poor creature.

"I didn't know what he was going to do." I wailed, thinking at speed.

"Darren." She said coldly. "I'll have to tell your father."

He quaked. His erection started to collapse with a vengeance. "Ah... no." He looked at me pleadingly then to my mother. Her mouth twisted down at the corners. He slowly bent down to pull up his trousers.

"Stop, Darren." My mother barked, frowning thoughtfully and glancing across at me.

Darren straightened jerkily.

"Is this the first time?" She asked him suspiciously.

"Yes." I interjected quickly, before Darren could dig the hole any deeper.

"You know what your father will do if he finds out." My mother said quietly. Darren nodded, downcast.

"And in front of Delilah, your step sister."

He grimaced miserably.

"You have to be taught a lesson boy." She said. "But, as this is your first transgression, I tell you what I'll do." She paused

Darren's head came up and hope widened his eyes.

"I'm going to deal with it between the three of us. It'll go no further, how's that?"

"Yes, yes, oh thank you." He grovelled in obsequious gratitude.

Mum turned to me. "Delilah, fetch one of those gardening canes from the refectory. You Darren, stay as you are." Darren gaped. His hands moved to cover his shrinking organ but mum's glacial glare stopped him dead.

My heart skipped with anticipation as I shot down the stairs, returning moments later with a thin garden bamboo cane. Mum had obviously been reading him the riot act and he was close to tears. She crooked her finger at me and I held out the cane to her. But she didn't take it and pursed her lips. "It's you who have been offended Delilah, it's you who should exercise the punishment."

"Punishment?" I looked questioningly from mum to Darren, back to her.

"Lean over the bed." She commanded Darren.

His upper half lay face down on the bed, his knees on the floor. His white buttocks mooning to me.

My mother said firmly. "This is your first lesson Delilah. This is how women should treat men. See how compliant he is when you hold the balance of power? They are all malleable, if you know how. Now, give him six strokes, hard."

I paused, breathlessly.

"It's all in the wrist movement." Mum mimed the act.

I tensed, then let swing.

Darren yelped as a thin red line streaked across his buttocks.

"Not bad." My mother nodded. "But you can do better."

So I did.

At the next one Darren shrieked. My mother stopped me. "Darren!" She said sternly.

His muted whimpers ceased.

"There are four more to go. After each you will say sorry to Delilah, do you understand."

He nodded.

Mum inclined her head to me, and my arm swung back.

I had a strange satisfaction as I completed his sentence. After each stroke, he croaked his apology to me. Until he finally stood shamefaced in front of us. We stood muted as he pulled up his trousers. Mum inclined her head in the direction of the door and he slunk away.

"That's how you deal with men." My mother said towards the closing door.

"Darren's father?" I asked wide eyed. She simply gave an enigmatic smile.

Afterwards as I applied chilled soothing cream to his backside, he tried to berate me for not supporting him "Don't be stupid." I had snapped back. "If she knew I regularly tossed you off, she'd certainly have told your father, wouldn't she!" He looked doubtful.

"Let me make it up to you." I gave him my best fallow deer look, and I saw the flicker of interest light his eye. He was once more on the hook, pathetic little sod.

So here we were, years after. One for old times I reckon...

I caress him gently at first, playful. Then, gripping him lightly, massaging faster, in rhythm with his quickening breathing. I feel the customary volcanic surge building from his balls. It consumes him entirely, stronger, stronger… "Ahhhg", cries out as Etna erupts. His eyes close, and I release him looking at the lava of his ejaculate, wet on his stomach.

"And a bonus, if I let go of your balls." I hiss, with a sly leer.

"What?"

I squeeze his balls, Sniggering as his mouth widens in an Edvard Munch soundless scream. "A bonus? Another forty?" I insist. "Or you can kiss goodbye to these." He now expects, indeed welcomes a touch of dominance.

He nods, like a demented puppet. Unable to speak, paralysed. With my free hand, I pick up his wallet on the bedside table and extract two twenties.

"If you mention this, I’ll arrange a very nasty accident." I glower down at him, slipping the notes into my panties and ensuring he glimpses the dark shadowy mound of my pubis under the wispy material. "I’ve friends who will hold you down, whilst I do something nasty to your balls." I threaten, wolfishly grinning. "How would you like that?

"No, not at all Del, I’ll tell no one." he gabbles.

"Good." I say, releasing my grip.

The relief on his face is tangible. "That was wonderful." he murmurs, as the pain recedes, leaving only a residual tide-line memory of that brief spasm of pure ecstasy.

I turn, gliding to the doorway, where I stop, looking back over my shoulder. "Mind you, maybe I should tell your wife that you still pay your step sister to wank you off… ever since you were fourteen?" I say lightly, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, please Del." He pleads, his erection deflating rapidly.

"Just think, all that time. Now I reckon that’s what’s called a nice little earner?" I grin, my teeth actress perfect, eyes alight with mischief, and we both smile at our mutual conspiracy. His nervous, mine superior.

He swallows. My presence is still pumping yearning into him, even now. "Next month, when you come for tennis again?" He begs eagerly. "And... you won’t tell Jane – will you?"

My brow furrows.

He holds his breath

I snort. "If I did, she’d probably do the job for me. Turn you into her subservient gelding."

"I, I think she would. Next month?"

I nod once. "One for the road." I agree.

An eager smile lights up his face. "Jane needn't know..." He adds anxiously.

"Maybe I’m servicing your dear little Jane as well?" I wink. And am gone, jauntily stepping out through the bedroom door.

I hear him expel a long expectant sigh of carnal anticipation.

End.

Jocelyn 2011