'Lil' Sis

[taoschild]

I don't do incest so this story won't go there but the dynamic of play between big brother and little sister has always intrigued me. I'm not sure what I think of this so far -- perhaps a bit formulaic but I will on it a bit more after I finish my novel with the wife. If you're interested in stories that go a little more into the naughty realm with bros and sisters let me suggest IBP's More Than Gina? in our charity anthology, Stealing Muscle. https://www.amazon.com/Stealing-Muscle-Novella-Short-Anthology-ebook/dp/B083D5MFD7/ref=sr_1_2?crid=25BT0ZK7NZ9DD&keywords=stealing+muscle&qid=1686330107&s=books&sprefix=stealing+muscl%2Cstripbooks%2C210&sr=1-2
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Chapter 1: Fragile Bonds

Growing up in our small suburban town wasn't exactly a picturesque experience. Think, Stranger Things, but for me it was minus the friend group. I was bright and decently athletic but never good enough for my dad. He always expected more. I worked hard at football then eventually quit when I wasn’t good enough. My dad basically shunned me.
In the midst of my struggle, my sister Emily tried to be there for me.  We’d once shared a close bond, but for some reason I didn’t think she gave me enough support. I guess she had her own life, but I just couldn’t let go. To make me feel better about my lot in life– stuck between friend groups, ostracized between friend groups, you name it, I started picking on my sister. Obviously, to say it tarnished our relationship was an understatement.

The truth was, Emily had everything I desired. Our parents showered her with attention and praise for her accomplishments in gymnastics. She had her own clique of friends at the gym, with whom she shared a tight bond. On top of that, she had a figure that turned heads. It was hard to ignore the constant chatter among my peers, discussing her like she was a piece of art. We'd stand in groups by the lockers and they'd talk about her to no end– and yeah, I got jealous. The comments were endless. "Would you look at her? She's got the most luxurious hair." "Check out that midriff? Best abs in the school hands down." "And those eyes... they're like emeralds" "She's got curves in all the right places. How is she so stacked when she's so fit?"

It was hard to escape the comparisons and the constant reminder that she was the hottest girl in the school, residing under the same roof as me. The weight of that expectation only added to the strain between us, fueling my resentment and perpetuating a toxic cycle that seemed impossible to break.

Burdened by my insecurities, I resorted to increasing verbal abuse as a means to control Emily. Part of me felt bad and knew it left her feeling powerless and demeaned, but when I walked out of her room knowing I’d come out on top of something— someone the boys at school cherished– somehow it made me feel better about my life.
Steadily, my abuse grew more tangible and finally I resorted to physical acts of aggression when my words weren't having the desired effect on her. That fateful day, consumed by anger and frustration, I reached out and forcefully grabbed Emily's arm, my fingers digging into her skin.

“Stop, James!” She cried, unsuccessfully trying to pull away, but I just reveled in the feeling of control over her. I’m sure the pain radiating through her body, matched the ache in her heart at how our relationship had turned, but I didn’t care.

“Just say, Uncle,” I grinned evilly.

As I held her captive, Emily contorted in pain, somehow spoke logically "James, listen to me," Emily said, her voice trembling yet filled with unwavering conviction. "What you're doing is wrong. The way you treat me, the words you hurl at me, and now this... It's not love, it's not how siblings should be."

Emily winced as she felt my grip tighten, his fingers leaving faint imprints on her skin. She looked into my eyes, hoping to find a flicker of remorse or hesitation, but instead, she saw only coldness and jealousy.

The room momentarily fell silent as I twisted, pushing for her to cry out and admit my superiority. Emily took a deep breath, steadying herself despite what must have been throbbing pain in her arm. Mustering every ounce of strength and resolve she channeled it into her words. "I deserve respect, James.”

My grip faltered for a moment. Deep down, I knew my actions were inexcusable, but I couldn’t stop. A mixture of emotions played across my face. Shame, regret, and anger. Unfortunately jealousy and anger won out. Her statement was met with the back of my hand. She fell to the floor and I walked out of the room.

The fact that she hadn’t cried uncle and begged for mercy frustrated me. In the face of my superior strength, Emily had demonstrated only resilience. I saw it as a threat and I started a steady program of absolute humiliation. Looking back, I know my actions were a desperate attempt to assert my dominance and feel better about myself– at the expense of someone who should have been my best friend— but I was young and stupid.

Chapter 2: Seeds of Transformation

The next day Emily announced to my startled parents that she was stopping gymnastics. Instead she was going to seek a gym membership and lift weights. I grinned, knowing that I was the reason. Emily was going to try and put some muscle on her wiry arms to defend herself. I was a boy, an older and semi-athletic one at that. She had no chance against me. All she’d done was give up the thing that my parents cherished her for. We’d be equals now, only I’d be stronger and I’d show her who was boss on a daily basis.

Admittedly, I’d had some manifestations of arousal surrounding fit, muscular women but that never crossed my mind surrounding my sister. She could never get big. It seemed, at the time, like a huge victory for me. She was just the ordinary-- well super pretty and ordinary but I was stronger and I could dole out punishments as I saw fit.

So Emily sought solace in the weight room at the local gym. Later she told me how with each repetition and clank of iron, she discovered not only physical strength but also an escape from the emotional turmoil that plagued her-- me.

Slowly but surely, her muscles responded to the rigorous training regimen. Her once-slender frame began to fill out, muscles growing and shaping beneath her skin. Her shoulders broadened, sculpted with sinewy strength. Biceps and triceps emerged, chiseled and defined. Emily's legs, once delicate and unassuming, developed into pillars of strength. Thighs thickened with muscle, and her calves became rock-solid.

It happened quicker than I thought and her rise in strength was met with even more anger from me. A flicker of fear burned in me as I became increasingly threatened by Emily's physical transformation. Were my earlier assumptions destined to be valid forever?

[brave_archer]

You have my attention, sir. Karma given.

(Also, loved More Than Gina from the anthology. I wish IBP wrote more FMG stories but seems like it was a one-off for them.)

[tapion]

I always like the little sister becomes muscular theme

[ArkhamAsylum]

A very interesting first part. I'm looking forward to the continuation.

[addie40ff]

A very good start.  Awaiting further developments.

[jeffbeans]

An awesome start, karma deployed!

[taoschild]

I apologize for backtracking a bit but I wanted to add a little more description:
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They came measured and more frequently. Daily I came in and twisted her thumb back, slapped her but, or tackled her and gave her a nuggie. I could feel the difference in her body but my punishments grew so frequent that she seemed to give up and let me dole them out as I saw fit.

Instead of fighting back against me, Emily sought solace in the weight room at the local gym. Later she told me how with each repetition and clank of iron, she discovered not only physical strength but also an escape from the emotional turmoil that plagued her-- me.

Slowly but surely, her muscles responded to the rigorous training regimen. Her once-slender frame began to fill out, muscles growing and shaping beneath her skin. Her shoulders broadened, sculpted with sinewy strength. Biceps and triceps emerged, chiseled and defined. Emily's legs, once delicate and unassuming, developed into pillars of strength. Thighs thickened with muscle, and her calves became rock-solid.

It happened quicker than I thought possible and her rise in strength was met with even more anger from me. A flicker of fear burned in me as I became increasingly threatened by Emily's physical transformation. The fear of losing control, of losing the upper hand, gnawed at me deep inside. Were my earlier assumptions destined to be valid forever?
Seeing her muscles grow and her strength increase ignited a deep-seated jealousy within me. I couldn't handle seeing my sister challenge my physical strength. It was the one thing that I could count on to make me feel superior to her. Her growing strength was a blow to my already fragile ego, a constant reminder of my shortcomings. If she could break free from the confines I had placed upon her what would I have left.? Instead of working out myself, I directed his insecurities and his anger and frustration toward Emily.

One day at breakfast she wore a tight fitting tank top that shower off her grouping arms. I was dumbfounded and angry. Her arms, once delicate and wiry now looked  defined and sculpted. The muscles in her arms seemed to ripple with power and even a simple act like twisting the top a the blender for her protein shake her muscles seemed to dance beneath her skin. As I gazed upon them, a sense of unease washed over me, as if the power she now possessed posed a direct challenge to my own.The sight of her growing muscles fueled my determination to prove myself. I vowed to regain the control I felt slipping away and show her and myself that I was still strong.

Silently, I pledged to myself that I’d punish her that night. It was a Saturday night. I marched into her room when she was talking to all her friends on a FaceTime call. I flipped off the phone and tossed it across the room.

“Hey!” she called out, “I was talking to my friends who are at the competition.”

“Hey is for horses and I don’t care about your so called friends.” I locked eyes with her, a hint of defiance in my gaze. “You think your strong now, so let’s settle this once and for all with an arm wrestling contest."

She looked surprised but intrigued, clearly recognizing the fire in my eyes. Without hesitation, she lay down on the floor, her bicep bulging with power. I mirrored her stance, flexing my own arm, ready to face the challenge head-on.

As our hands interlocked, I could feel the strength in her grip, the power pulsating through her muscles. I clenched my teeth, summoning every ounce of strength within me. The room fell silent, tension thick in the air.

With a surge of determination, I exerted all my force against Emily's arm determined to push her down in seconds. My muscles strained and quivered, pushing with everything I had but she held firm, resisting my initial onslaught.

But I wasn't about to give up. My manhood and superiority were on the line. I could feel my adrenaline pumping, my body surging with energy. I continued to press forward, inch by inch, the struggle intensifying with each passing moment.

Time seemed to stretch as we locked in our battle, muscles bulging, veins pulsating. My breath grew heavy, my entire body trembling with exertion. I poured every ounce of energy into that final push, my arm shaking with the effort. Unfortunately, the strength Emily showed me was sending the blood to another area of my body too. It felt unnatural and wrong, but also confusing, overwhelming, and right.

And then, with a surge of triumph, I felt her arm give way. Emily's arm touched the throw rug with a gentle thud, and I let out a brief victorious cheer. My hard on was raging so I didn’t have to gloat over my accomplishment. The brief sense of superiority washing over me was tempered by my strength and other unexpected feelings. Instead of gloating, I turned tail and virtually ran out of the room to chart my feelings and plan my next steps.

[ArkhamAsylum]

A great addition. I hope the relationship between Emily and her brother will  be mended eventually.

[taoschild]

Sorry I didn't have long to edit this much as I'm still working on finishing up editing of my novel. I hope this is enough for those of you following the story.
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Chapter 3: A Lapse in Judgment

I ran to my room confused about my erection and angry that she’d nearly beaten me. I was in full retreat and clueless how to respond. I needed to show strength and intimidate her but if she kept getting stronger how long would that last. I slammed the door panting and disoriented when the door right opened behind me. “You jerk, all I tried to do was…”
She never finished the question. Without even knowing what I was doing I lowered my shoulder and drove into her gut. Caught unprepared, Emily winced and stumbled backward, momentarily taken aback by my aggression. The blow had caught her off guard, leaving her vulnerable and wounded, both physically and emotionally. “Get out of my room,” I spat, trying to hide my raging hard on. Tears streamed down her face as she retreated back to her room.

I followed warily and watched as she collapsed to the bed crying. Satisfied that I’d recovered my supremacy, I called out. “Don’t touch my stuff or next time you’ll get it worse.”
Emily's body shook with a mix of pain and anger as she lay on the bed, tears streaming down her face. I knew that my callousness and aggression had pierced her already wounded soul, reopening old scars and creating new ones. The weight of my words and actions bore down on her, threatening to crush her spirit. To some extent I hoped they would. If things continued as they had been…

In that moment of vulnerability, Emily could have succumbed to despair, allowing my words to define her self-worth. But as the haze of pain cleared, a newfound determination ignited within her.

Wiping away her tears, Emily took a deep breath and stood before the mirror. As I watched her, a mixture of guilt and realization washed over me. She wasn't broken by my words; instead, I had only managed to startle her. The sight of her reflection revealed a determination and strength I hadn't noticed before. The workouts were working. She resolved herself to intensify her efforts.

I once again retreated to my room feeling a mix of guilt and regret. A few minutes later, the sound of the front door slamming echoed through the house. It was Emily, heading to the gym to continue her relentless pursuit of strength seeking solace and a way to channel her frustrations.

With a renewed determination, Emily immersed herself in her training. She would later recount how the clanging of weights and the hum of the gym enveloped her, providing a sanctuary from the outside world. It was there that she poured her anger and frustrations into her workouts, pushing her body to its limits.

As she lifted the heavy weights, each repetition became an act of defiance. It was a declaration to herself, and to me, that she would not allow my cruelty to silence or diminish her. The pain coursing through her muscles served as a constant reminder of her resilience, fueling her desire to grow stronger, both physically and emotionally.

A part of me wanted to join her, to shed the weight of my own insecurities and become part of her journey of growth. Yet, pride and stubbornness held me back, trapping me in a cycle of self-destruction. To be honest, I probably didn’t have the dedication she held either. So I waited with trepidation for the day that she would become stronger than me and the tables would turn.

[taoschild]

Seems like this story may be losing interest so I may post a chapter of the upcoming that novel that my wife and I are writing instead next time -- but here is another quick entry in the story of Lil' sis
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Chapter 4: A Twisted Dance

Emily's growth was nothing short of breathtaking. The veins that traced across her skin were like a roadmap, highlighting the dedication and sheer power coursing through her veins. Every movement she made radiated confidence and presence, commanding attention from anyone in her vicinity.

How was it possible? As Emily's physique evolved, driven by my own insecurities I couldn't barely bear to witness her physical transformation. Every time I laid eyes on her, my face flushed with a blotchy pink hue, my breath quickened, and a lump formed in my throat. I knew what was coming next—I couldn't help but lash out at her, taunting and belittling her progress, desperate to undermine her newfound confidence.

For some reason she didn’t respond and I tried to let myself feel like I was still in charge but now, any physical violence now seemed off the table. My superiority had become hollow… what is she waiting for to strike back, I wondered?

But Emily didn't crumble under the weight of my hurtful words. Instead, she used them as motivation to push herself even further. I watched as she poured longer hours into the gym. Each repetition was a battle cry, her muscles screaming in protest, and her body strained under the weight. But she persevered. With each passing day, Emily's muscles grew.

As Emily's muscles grew, so did her inner resolve. She walked by me as I teased her letting my insults roll off her back. In the face of my taunts, Emily stood tall, her chiseled physique becoming an impenetrable shield against my words. She no longer sought validation from me or anyone else. Her worth was defined by her own achievements in the gym. Little did I know that she already understood that her strength surpassed my own but was simply using my words as determination to get grow.

Soon enough, her once slender physique level morphed into a mountain of muscularity. Churning, swelling, growing sweaty muscle greeted me when she returned home from her marathon workouts. Emily's hulking size and strength became a visual representation of the battles she fought and the obstacles she overcame.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Emily’s growth seemed to know no bounds. The gym became her sanctuary, a place where she could embrace her true self, free from the judgment of others and use my taunts to push her strength to new heights. And with each passing day, her body continued to transform, reaching new levels of strength and power.

We were going to completely different directions. While my insecurities continued to eat away at me, she was in the midst of her transformation both physically and that of her character. I grew increasingly intimidated and fascinated by her journey and remorseful about my own pathetic behavior– but I just couldn’t stop.

[ravanin]

it's a good story but the lack of attention might be because there has been no development watsoever. so far every chapter can be summarized by he is mean to her so she trains.

[taoschild]

Ravanin.. You're absolutely right - didn't put enough thought into this one bc I'm focusing on my other works - I just sat and wrote - at best it's a rough draft - but here is another section nonetheless.
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Chapter 4: A Twisted Dance

Emily's growth was nothing short of breathtaking. The veins that traced across her skin were like a roadmap, highlighting the dedication and sheer power coursing through her veins. Every movement she made radiated confidence and presence, commanding attention from anyone in her vicinity.

How was it possible? As Emily's physique evolved, driven by my own insecurities I couldn't barely bear to witness her physical transformation. Every time I laid eyes on her, my face flushed with a blotchy pink hue, my breath quickened, and a lump formed in my throat. I knew what was coming next—I couldn't help but lash out at her, taunting and belittling her progress, desperate to undermine her newfound confidence. 

For some reason she didn’t respond and I tried to let myself feel like I was still in charge but now, any physical violence now seemed off the table. My superiority had become hollow… What is she waiting for to strike back, I wondered?

But Emily didn't crumble under the weight of my hurtful words. Instead, she used them as motivation to push herself even further. I watched as she poured longer hours into the gym. Each repetition was a battle cry, her muscles screaming in protest, and her body strained under the weight. But she persevered. With each passing day, Emily's muscles grew.

As Emily's muscles grew, so did her self confidence. She walked by me as I teased her letting my insults roll off her back. In the face of my taunts, she stood tall, her chiseled physique becoming an impenetrable shield against my words. She no longer sought validation from me or anyone else. Her worth was defined by her own achievements in the gym. Little did I know that she already understood that her strength surpassed my own but was simply using my words as determination to get grow.

Soon enough, her once slender physiquel level morphed into a mountain of muscularity.  Churning, swelling, growing sweaty muscle greeted me when she returned home from her marathon workouts. Emily's hulking size and strength became a visual representation of the battles she fought and the obstacles she overcame.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Emily’s growth seemed to know no bounds. The gym became her sanctuary, a place where she could embrace her true self, free from the judgment of others and use my taunts to push her strength to new heights. And with each passing day, her body continued to transform, reaching new levels of strength and power.

We were going to completely different directions. While my insecurities continued to eat away at me, she was in the midst of her transformation both physically and that of her character. I grew increasingly intimidated and fascinated by her journey and remorseful about my own pathetic behavior– but I just couldn’t stop.

[jeffbeans]

Definitely still interest in this story! Please keep going

[tobu2705]

Great development of the story, really interested

[ArkhamAsylum]

I agree with the rest. This story has been interesting so far and has a lot of potential.