It’s Rude to Point 6

By SuperEvil
superevil7@protonmail.com

Copyright 2026 by SuperEvil, all rights reserved

[9,863 words]

Chapter 6

Sunday seemed to come a little sooner than I realized. I woke up feeling like I had just discovered the secret to eternal happiness. The room was bright, and I was warm. And I was naked. But it didn't bother me. It just... was. Like my hands and my feet. Just another part of me that belonged to her.

I looked to my side, to see a sleeping angel with long, blonde hair. She was curled up next to me, and her face looked so peaceful in the morning light. Her eyes fluttered open. They were a sleepy, hazy blue, and when she saw me, a slow, sweet smile spread across her face.

"Good morning, big guy," she whispered. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like the dead," I said, my own smile stretching from ear to ear. "I've never felt so... relaxed in my entire life."

"Me neither," she purred. She snuggled up closer to me, her leg draping over mine. Her warm skin against my naked skin felt so nice.

"Hey," she said after a little while, her fingers tracing lazy little circles on my chest. "I heard once that the way to a man's heart is to keep his balls empty and his stomach full. I think I did a really, really good job with the first part. So, how about I take care of the second?"

She wiggled her eyebrows at me, a funny, suggestive look that made me laugh. "You want to make me breakfast?" I asked, a little surprised.

"I do," she said, giving my chest a happy little pat. "Consider it my official girlfriend duties." She jumped out of bed, a sudden burst of energy that made me want to pull her right back in. But she was already grabbing her little backpack. "Wait right there. My naked, handsome boyfriend."

I didn't have to wait long. She rummaged around in her bag, pulling out a fresh pair of panties and a surprisingly tiny pair of jean shorts that had little frayed holes in them. Then she wiggled into them, pulling them up over her long, tan legs. She found a little white t-shirt, and before she put it on, she looked right at me. A slow, mischievous little grin spread across her face as she just stood there for a second, letting me get one more good, long look at her perfect little boobs. Then, just as quick, she pulled the shirt over her head, covering them up. My own body gave a little twitch of disappointment.

"See something you like, big guy?" she teased, her hands on her hips.

"Definitely," I said, a big, goofy grin on my face.

She giggled, then leaned over and gave me a quick, cherry-flavored kiss. "Let's go get my boyfriend some breakfast," she said.

I followed her out of my room and down the hall. My house felt different in the morning light. Normal. And me walking through it naked, while my fully-dressed girlfriend walked in front of me, felt normal, too. It was a crazy new normal, but it was ours.

My mom and Lisa were already in the kitchen when we got there. Lisa was sitting at the table, scooping scrambled eggs into her mouth, while my mom was standing at the counter, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Look who's finally awake," my mom said with a happy little smile when she saw us. "Did you two sleep well?"

"It was the best sleep of my whole life," I said, and I meant it. I felt... good. Better than I ever had. All the stress and the worry was just... gone. Replaced by a warm, floaty feeling of pure, happy bliss. And for the first time in a long, long time, I woke up without pointing. I was just... normal.

"I'm glad to hear that," my mom said. "Sarah, honey, you're an angel for helping him."

"It's my pleasure, Mrs. Miller," Sarah chirped, grabbing a plate from the cupboard and starting to fill it with food for me. She moved around my kitchen like she lived there, like it was the most natural thing in the world to be making breakfast for her naked boyfriend in front of his mom.

She put a huge stack of pancakes, a pile of scrambled eggs, and about a million strips of bacon on a plate, then set it down in front of me at the table. "Eat up, big guy," she said. "We've got a big day today."

"Wait a second," Lisa said, her spoon stopping halfway to her mouth as she stared at me, a look of shock on her face. "Hey, you're not pointing."

My whole body went warm with a little blush. My mom leaned over, peering at me.

"She's right," my mom said, a happy, relieved little sigh escaping her lips. "Oh, thank goodness. He's... calm."

"See? The treatment worked," Sarah declared with a triumphant little nod.

"What? You think last night fixed me?" I said, looking at her, a little bubble of hope welling up in my chest. "All that pointing, and the... the flushes... did it?"

"It's only temporary, Tommy. A short reprieve," Sarah said, shaking her head, her face all serious and scientific again, even in her tiny shorts. "Your body has a lot of toxins built up. Last night was a very aggressive... detoxification. But it won't last. The blockages will be back. By this afternoon, for sure."

As soon as she said it, a weird, sinking feeling washed over me. But then I looked at her, at the proud, happy look on her face, and the worry went away. She knew what she was doing. She was keeping up the ruse to keep me naked, the little sneak. The thought made a little smile play on my lips. We were in this together.

Then, while my mom was busy getting another cup of coffee, and Lisa was busy trying to balance a whole pancake on her fork, Sarah did something that made my whole body sit up and take notice. She leaned back, like she was going to yawn and stretch, but her thumbs hooked the bottom of her shirt and she pulled it up, just for a second.

It wasn't a long flash. It was fast. A little peekaboo of her perfect, little boobs. But it was all it took.

My whole body went stiff. My breath hitched in my throat. And my carrot, which had been all sleepy and peaceful just a second ago, woke up with a vengeance. It stretched and yawned and then pointed right up at the ceiling.

Sarah let her shirt fall back down, a slow, sly, triumphant smile spreading across her face. She didn't even have to say anything. She didn't have to do one of her little point and praise speeches. The look on her face said it all. See? I told you so. I wasn't cured. And my body was still all hers to control.

My face felt hot. I felt like a total idiot, falling for her little trick. But at the same time, a dark, thrilling little spark shot through me. I liked it when she teased me like that. I liked that she knew exactly how to make my body react.

My mom turned around then, her coffee in her hand. "Oh dear," she said, her happy little sigh replaced by that now-familiar look of concern. "I guess Sarah was right. The blockages must be coming back."

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Miller," Sarah said, her voice all serious and sympathetic. "He's already pointing again." She looked at me, a sweet, loving look that was full of a secret, teasing fire that only I could see. "I guess my boyfriend's little carrot just can't resist me."

My cheeks burned even hotter.

"Don't you worry, sweetie," my mom said, patting my shoulder. "Sarah's right here to help you."

"She is," I mumbled, looking down at my plate of pancakes. I wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but I was also kind of proud. Like my pointing was a little trophy for Sarah.

"Here, sweetie," Sarah cooed, sliding her chair closer to mine. "Let me help you eat. So you can get your strength up." She picked up a piece of bacon from my plate and held it up to my lips.

I looked at her. She was looking back at me with this soft, caring look on her face. But her eyes were... different. A hungry, predatory look that was all for me.

Then, she started. The point and praise.

"Oh, Tommy," she purred, her fingers gently tracing a path down my chest. "Look at your beautiful, strong carrot. It's standing up so tall and proud for me."

"Sarah," I mumbled, my face so hot I was surprised it wasn't actually on fire.

"It's because it knows how much you need me," she continued, ignoring my protest. "It knows I'm going to take all the yucky poison out for you." She leaned in a little closer, her warm breath a little tickle on my ear. "Can you feel how hard it is, big guy? I can see it all the way over here. It's so big and strong." Her praise was a constant, soothing, yet humiliating murmur in my ear, a background track to my own racing heart.

My body reacted to her words, of course. My carrot got even harder, if that was even possible, a little traitorous twitch of interest that she saw.

"And do you see me here, in my tight little shirt, and my tiny pair of shorts? You can see my legs, all smooth and tanned, but the really good parts... you can't see them, can you?" she purred, her voice a hypnotic, sweet torment.

"Sarah," I grumbled again, but it was weak. I shoved a bite of my pancakes in my mouth, hoping it would stop me from saying something even more embarrassing.

She giggled, a happy little sound that made my stupid carrot give another twitch. "Is this making you blush, Tommy? Making your face all red and hot? I think it is. I can see the color in your cheeks."

She held the strip of bacon up to my lips again. I wanted to be stubborn, to turn my head away, but I was hungry. And her blue eyes, which were all sparkling and full of mischief, were impossible to resist. I took the bite, my lips brushing against her fingers.

"You're my sweet boy," she whispered, her voice full of so much warmth it was almost scary. "My good, naked boy who knows he needs my help."

"So, when are Mia and Emma coming over?" I asked, my words a little mushy around the big bite of bacon. I figured I'd try to change the subject. I could only take so much point and praise before my brain turned into a complete pile of goo.

"We're not meeting here, silly," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're all meeting at my house in a little bit. In like an hour."

"At your house?" my mom chimed in, her brow all wrinkled with worry. "But... Why?" The idea of me, her naked, sick son, parading around the neighborhood again so soon was clearly making her anxious. I had to admit, it was making me a little anxious, too.

"Mia has to get everything ready for the exam for Mark," Sarah explained, her face all serious and important. Like she was a real doctor's assistant, and not a teenager who was also a secret sex demon. "You know my brother, Mark. My mom and I are worried he's been exposed, too."

A dark, mean little thrill shot through me. The thought of her brother, the super-jock football captain, going through what I was going through... Well, it was just too perfect for words. The big, tough guy, reduced to a blushing, naked mess. It served him right for being such a jerk all the time.

"My brother's the star quarterback, Mrs. Miller," Sarah continued, playing the worried sister card for all it was worth. "The team's whole season is on the line. We need to find out if he has TMS so we can get him treated before he accidentally hurts one of the other players, or worse, himself."

She looked right at my mom, her blue eyes wide with a sincerity so perfect it was almost believable. "It's not just about him. It's about the team. It's about Tommy's friends. He wouldn't want to see Mark get sick, would he, big guy?" she asked, turning her full attention back to me, a little pout on her lips.

"Of course not," I said, my voice all serious. I was a good friend. A good teammate. I had to do my part.

When we were through eating, Sarah brought me upstairs to my bathroom. She started the water in the tub, the sound of it splashing against the porcelain a happy, gurgling sound. The room started to fill up with a warm, steamy air.

"Okay, big guy, let's get you cleaned up," she said, turning to face me. "Can't have my boyfriend going to a medical exam all stinky and gross."

Just then, Lisa came bounding into the bathroom. "Whatcha doing?" she chirped, her eyes all wide and curious.

"I'm giving Tommy a bath," Sarah said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "He needs to be all clean for the exam."

"Can I watch?" Lisa asked, her face all lit up with excitement. She looked at me, then at Sarah, her little mind putting all the pieces together. "I can help. I can be a helper too."

Sarah looked at her, a slow, sly smile spreading across her face. "You know what, Lisa? I think that's a great idea. A boy like Tommy needs all the help he can get."

My face went hot. A bath. With Sarah. And now with my little sister helping. The whole thing was just so... weird. But a part of me, a very small, very stupid part, was also kind of excited. The idea of Sarah seeing me all soapy and wet, her hands all over me... well, my carrot, which had been doing a pretty good job of behaving itself, gave another traitorous little twitch.

"You're so good to him, Sarah," Lisa said, her voice full of a sincere, little-girl admiration that was kind of sweet and kind of terrifying at the same time. "You're the best girlfriend ever."

"I am, aren't I?" Sarah agreed, a triumphant little smirk on her face. She leaned over and tested the water with her hand. "It's perfect. Get in, big guy."

I looked at her, then at the tub, then at my little sister, who was now bouncing on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Uh, I don't know," I mumbled, trying to grab onto the last little bit of my pride. "I can take a bath by myself. I'm not a baby."

Sarah just raised an eyebrow, a look that was all challenge and amusement. "Really, Tommy?" she purred. "Are you sure you want to do that? What if you have another blockage while you're in here, all alone? You could slip, hit your head. It could be a disaster."

"And what if you get water in your ears?" Lisa added, her little face all serious with worry. "That's how you get ear infections. Mom says so."

The two of them were a team. A perfect, unstoppable tag-team of logic and worry that I had absolutely no defense against. They were right. I was sick. I needed to be supervised. At least, that's the lie I kept telling myself to justify this. The thought was a comfortable, fuzzy blanket, even as a wave of hot embarrassment washed over me.

"Okay," I mumbled, my shoulders slumping in defeat. I climbed into the tub, the hot water a warm, prickly sensation on my skin.

Sarah and Lisa knelt down on the bathmat, their faces level with the tub. It was a surreal sight, the two of them, one my new girlfriend, one my little sister, both fully dressed, looking at me like I was some kind of rare, exotic animal they had just discovered.

"Okay," Sarah said, rubbing her hands together with a glee she wasn't even trying to hide. "Let's get you all soapy." She grabbed the big, poofy thing my mom used for body wash and squirted a bunch of soap on it. She started with my chest, her movements slow and deliberate.

"This is my favorite part," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. "Getting to touch you all over. Making you all clean for me."

My breath hitched in my throat. The feeling of her hands on me, even through the poofy soap thing, was electric. The warm water, the slippery soap, her touch... it was all too much. My brain was a big, jumbled mess of embarrassment and a dark, thrilling excitement.

"And I'll help!" Lisa chirped, grabbing her own little washcloth. She started to scrub my back, her movements a little too enthusiastic, a little too rough. "We'll get you super-duper clean, Tommy. So no more yucky toxins can hide on you."

"Be gentle, Lisa," Sarah scolded, a teasing little smile on her face. "He's a delicate specimen. You don't want to break him."

"I'm not delicate," I mumbled, but my protest was weak, a pathetic little puff of air against the loud, sloshing sounds of the water. The lie was so big, so crazy, but I was living it. And they were living it with me.

Sarah's hands moved lower, over my stomach, her fingers tracing the lines of my muscles. I tensed up, a jolt of pure, nervous energy shooting through me. She was getting closer. To the place where my carrot was now very, very awake.

"Oh, and what's this?" she purred, her eyes all wide with mock surprise. "Looks like someone is feeling a lot better. Look at him, Lisa. He's standing up so tall and proud for us."

"He's so big," Lisa whispered, her own eyes wide with a mix of shock and awe. "And it's all red and pointy." She pointed her little finger right at it.

My face felt like it was going to melt right off my skull. I was sitting in a bathtub, naked as the day I was born, while my new girlfriend and my little sister were pointing at my hard-on like it was a science exhibit.

"I think he likes us, Lisa," Sarah said, her voice a low, triumphant purr. "I think he likes it when we look at him."

"He needs to be cleaned there, too, right?" Lisa asked, all serious. "To make sure the blockages are gone?"

"Absolutely," Sarah said, a bright, happy smile on her face. "It's the most important part. We have to make sure he gets a really, really good cleaning. Right on the mushroom head. And all around the shaft. And don't forget to wash his balls. They get all sweaty and toxic."

My whole body went stiff. "No. No, you can't. I can do it," I stammered, trying to cover my carrot with my hands. It was a useless, pathetic gesture.

"Tommy, we've been over this," Sarah said, her voice losing its playful edge and taking on a firm, scolding tone that was even scarier. "You can't touch yourself. You could dislodge a blockage. It's for your own good. Now put your hands on the side of the tub. Where I can see them."

I did what she said. My hands gripped the cold, wet porcelain, a desperate anchor in a sea of pure, overwhelming humiliation.

"I'll do it," Lisa chirped, her little hand shooting out before Sarah could even react. She wrapped her small, soapy fingers around my shaft, and my whole body jerked like I'd been struck by lightning.

"Oh my gosh, it's so hard," she whispered, her eyes all wide with wonder. She squeezed, a little too hard, and I let out a little yelp.

"Gently, Lisa," Sarah said, but she was laughing, a low, throaty sound that made my face burn even hotter. "He's not a tube of toothpaste."

Lisa loosened her grip, and started to move her little hand up and down my shaft, the soap making it all slippery and easy. "This is so weird," she whispered, her face all scrunched up in concentration. "It's like I'm washing a really slippery carrot."

My carrot throbbed in her hand, a hot, heavy pulse of pure, traitorous pleasure. "Lisa," I groaned, my head falling back against the tub with a soft thud.

"You know," she said, her voice a happy, little murmur, "this is the first time I've held him since I got to put sunscreen on him. He's a lot more slippery now."

"You're a natural caregiver, Lisa," Sarah praised, her blue eyes all bright with pride. "You're going to make a great helper."

Lisa beamed, her chest puffing out with a sense of importance. "I am, aren't I?" she agreed. She let go of my shaft and moved her attention to my balls. She cupped them in her little, soapy hand, her touch a strange, ticklish sensation that made my whole body tense up. "And these are the little factories that hold all the yucky poison, right?" she asked, all serious.

"That's right," Sarah said, a huge, proud smile on her face. "You're learning so fast."

I just sat there, my hands gripping the side of the tub, my knuckles white, my whole body a tense, humming wire of embarrassment and a dark, shameful thrill. I wanted to scream. I wanted to jump out of the tub and run away. But I didn't. I just sat there. And let them.

"You know, big guy," Sarah said, her voice a low, teasing purr, "You're being very pouty right now. Are you sad that we have to clean your little carrot?" she teased.

"I'm not embarrassed," I mumbled, but my face was so hot I was surprised the water in the tub wasn't starting to boil.

Lisa giggled, a high-pitched, happy sound that echoed off the tiled walls. "You're totally embarrassed. Your whole face is red. You look like a little tomato."

"A hot, sexy tomato," Sarah corrected, her blue eyes all soft and admiring. I wanted to be mad at her. I wanted to hate her for teasing me, for putting me through this. But then she looked at me like that, with so much warmth and affection in her eyes, and the anger just sort of... melted. She was my girlfriend. And she was taking care of me. Even if it was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to me.

"Okay, let's get you rinsed off," Sarah said, taking the little handheld shower head from its hook. "Lean your head back."

I did what she said. The warm water cascaded over my hair, down my face, over my shoulders. It felt... good. Nice. For a second, I almost forgot about everything else. I almost felt normal.

Then, Sarah aimed the spray lower, right at my chest. The water was a little cooler than the bathwater, and it made my whole body tense up. She moved the spray down my stomach, in slow, lazy circles, getting all the soap off.

"Now for the important part," she purred, a wicked little glint in her eye. She held the shower head up, aimed it right at my carrot, which was still standing up tall and proud, a pink, soapy flagpole. But she didn't turn it on.

"Can I do it?" Lisa chirped, her hand shooting out, grabbing for the shower head. "Please, Sarah? Please, please, please?"

Sarah looked at her, then at me, a slow, sly smile spreading across her face. "I don't know, Lisa," she said, her voice a sweet, teasing purr. "It's a very important job. You have to make sure you get all the soap off. Every single little bit. Or the blockages could get even worse."

"I can do it!" Lisa insisted, her face all serious with determination. "I'm a good helper! I'll be super-duper careful."

I wanted to protest. I wanted to say no. But the word wouldn't come out. It was trapped in my throat, a little lump of pure, helpless humiliation.

"Okay," Sarah said, a triumphant little smirk on her face as she handed the shower head over. "You can do it. But you have to do it right."

"I will!" Lisa promised, her face all lit up with a giddy, excited light. She took the shower head, her little fingers wrapping around the handle.

"Stand up, Tommy," she commanded, her little voice a little too bossy. "I can't get you all clean if you're sitting down like a lump."

A fresh wave of hot, prickly embarrassment washed over me. Standing up meant... more. More of me. More of everything. I was going to be all on display. A big, naked, soapy target for my little sister and my new girlfriend.

But I did it. I pushed myself up, the water sloshing around me, and I stood. My carrot, which was now a big, soapy, pink flagpole, was right there. Pointing right at their faces. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"Good boy," Lisa praised, her words a perfect, creepy little echo of Sarah's. She aimed the spray, and a cool jet of water hit my chest, making me jump. "Hold still."

The water streamed down my body, washing away the soap and the last little bits of my dignity. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see their faces, not wanting to see the looks of wonder and amusement.

But I could hear them. I could hear their happy little giggles, their soft, whispers. I could feel their eyes on me.

"Okay, now for the main event," Lisa said, her voice full of a wicked little glee. She moved the spray lower, the jet of water hitting my stomach, then my thighs. Then, she aimed it right at the base of my carrot.

My whole body went rigid. A gasp escaped my lips. The water was a sudden, shocking, stimulating sensation, a constant, pulsing pressure against my most sensitive skin.

"You have to make sure you get all the soap off, Lisa," Sarah coached, her voice a low, purring hum that was both terrifying and a little bit exciting. "Every single little drop. Move it all around. Up and down the shaft."

Lisa did exactly as she was told. She moved the spray in slow, lazy circles around my shaft, then up and down, the water a constant, maddening tease. My breath hitched in my throat, a little whimper escaping my lips. It was too much. The feeling was so intense, so overwhelming, it was making my whole body tremble.

"Don't forget the little factories, Lisa," Sarah reminded her. "We have to make sure they're all clean, too."

Lisa moved the spray lower, the jet of water a ticklish, stimulating pressure against my balls. I jumped, a full-body jolt of pure, raw sensation. A choked sob escaped my lips. It wasn't a cry of pain, or even sadness. It was a cry of pure, unadulterated overload.

Lisa's giggle was a high, happy, triumphant sound. "It's dancing!" she chirped, her eyes wide with glee. "His whole carrot is dancing!"

"Keep it right there, Lisa," Sarah commanded, her own voice thick with a dark, hungry excitement. "You're getting the last little bits of blockage out. This is good. This is very, very good for him."

My brain was a fuzzy, buzzing mess. I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. All I could do was feel. The water, a constant, pulsing pressure against my most sensitive skin. The heat of my own blush, a prickly, all-over fire. The weight of their gazes, heavy and inescapable.

My hips started to move, a slow, lazy, completely involuntary push, a rhythm that was all for me. I was chasing the feeling.

"Look at him go," Lisa whispered, her voice full of a breathless, awestruck wonder. "He likes it! He really, really likes it!"

"He's getting all the yucky toxins out," Sarah said, her own face alight with a fierce, triumphant pride. "Just look at him, Lisa. He's going to be so much better after this."

The pressure was building again, that same hot, tight coil in my stomach. A fresh wave of panic washed over me. Not here. Not now. Not like this. In front of them. In front of my little sister.

"Please," I gasped, the word a torn, shredded plea. "Lisa, stop."

But she didn't. She couldn't. The look on her face was one of pure, unadulterated glee. She had me right where she wanted me, and she was never going to let me go.

"It's okay, Tommy," she cooed, her voice a sweet, sympathetic purr that was laced with a dark, teasing fire. "Let it all out. Let all that yucky poison go. You'll feel so much better." She moved the spray, aiming it right at the tip, a focused, pulsing jet of water that was more intense than I expected. I couldn't cum, not from my little sister's playful teasing.

"I think he likes it when I aim it right here," Lisa said, her giggles a happy, triumphant little song. She aimed the spray at my balls again. "He wiggles when I do this."

My hips bucked, a desperate, useless motion. My hands flew down, trying to push her away, trying to cover myself, anything to make it stop.

"Uh-uh, big guy," Sarah said, her voice losing its playful edge and taking on a firm, scolding tone. "Hands behind your back. Now."

I looked at her. Her face was a mask of stern, serious authority, a look that was so much scarier than her teasing. She meant business.

"Let Lisa do her job," she commanded. "She's just trying to help you. Don't make me have to tell your mom that you were being difficult."

The threat was a cold, hard slap in the face. My mom. The idea of my mom having to come in here, of her seeing me like this, of her having to hold me down while my little sister... well, it was just too much. It was the ultimate trump card. The one thing that would always, always make me do whatever she wanted.

Slowly, I put my hands behind my back, a gesture of complete and total surrender. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

"That's my good boy," Sarah praised, her stern expression melting away into a warm, proud smile. "You're being so brave for us."

Lisa, seeing that I was cooperating, let out another happy little giggle. "I knew you'd be good, Tommy," she chirped. "You're my big brother, and you know I just want to help you feel better."

She went back to her task, the little sadist. She aimed the spray, and a jet of cool water hit the sensitive tip of my carrot. My whole body jumped, a sharp, electric jolt that made me gasp. My hips bucked, a desperate, useless motion that I couldn't control.

"Oh, he did it again!" Lisa squealed with delight, her face alight with a giddy, triumphant light. "He wiggles when I spray his mushroom head!"

"Keep doing that, Lisa," Sarah coached, her voice a low, excited purr.

But my body was already starting to betray me. A hot, tight coil was winding itself up in my stomach, a pressure that was both wonderful and terrifying. My breath was coming in short, ragged pants. I was teetering on the edge, and I was about to do the one thing I absolutely could not do.

"Please, Lisa, stop," I begged, my voice a hoarse, desperate whisper. "Please."

"Why? You're dancing," she said, pointing the spray at my balls again, making me jump and my whole body tense up. "It's like I'm a puppeteer, and you're my little dancing puppet. A little, naked puppet with a dancing carrot."

Her words were so innocent, but they were also so... cruel. I felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over me, so hot and intense it was almost painful.

"Keep going, Lisa. He's almost there," Sarah urged, her face all alight with a fierce, triumphant glee. "He's getting all the yucky toxins ready to come out. You can do it. Just a little more."

"Please, stop," I gasped, my hips bucking, a desperate, useless motion. "I'm... I'm gonna... oh god..."

My words dissolved into a strangled cry. I was right there. On the very, very edge. One more little wiggle of the spray, one more little giggle from my sister, and I was going to... I was going to...

"Oh, we can't have that," Sarah said, shutting off the water suddenly. "It would be dangerous to do an extraction in the tub. Too slippery. Get out, big guy."

She pulled a big, fluffy towel off the rack and held it open for me. But she didn't wrap it around me. She just stood there, holding it, waiting.

I stumbled out of the tub, my legs all wobbly and weak, my whole body trembling. My carrot was still pointing, a hard, angry red, a silent, desperate protest.

Lisa, meanwhile, was just staring at it, her eyes all wide and full of a giddy, fascinated light. "Wow," she whispered. "It didn't stop. It's still dancing."

"He has a very stubborn blockage, Lisa," Sarah said, her face all serious and scientific, like she was a real doctor explaining a difficult case. "A very, very stubborn one." She turned to me, a slow, sly smile spreading across her face. "But I have a very good helper. I think you should do Tommy's first extraction today."

Lisa's whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Me?" she gasped, her little hands flying up to her chest. "You want me to do it? To do an extraction for Tommy?"

"You're the one who got him all ready for one," Sarah pointed out, a teasing glint in her eye. "It's only fair that you get to be the one to... finish the job."

My own face went pale. No. No way. Not Lisa. Not my little sister. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

"No," I said, my voice a hoarse, shaky croak. "Sarah, please. Don't. Not her."

"But why not, Tommy?" Lisa asked, her face all scrunched up with confusion and a little bit of hurt. "Don't you want me to help you? Don't you want me to make you all better? I did Jeffrey and his brother's extractions for them so good yesterday. I can do yours just as good." She pouted, her bottom lip sticking out in a way that she knew was hard to resist.

"See? She knows what she's doing," Sarah said, her arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me in close. Her clothes against my naked skin was a strange, comforting warmth. "And you know the rules, big guy. Any helper. Anywhere. Anytime."

"Lisa's my sister," I whispered, the words a last, desperate plea. "It's... it's weird."

"It's not weird," Sarah scolded, her tone soft but firm. "It's medical. She's your sister. She loves you. She wants to help you. It's the most natural thing in the world."

And my sister... she played her part perfectly. A single, perfect tear welled up in the corner of her eye, and her bottom lip started to tremble. "You don't trust me, Tommy?" she whispered, her voice all small and shaky. "You think I'd do a bad job? You think I'd hurt you?"

"I... no, that's not what I meant," I stammered, feeling like the biggest jerk in the entire world. I was caught. I was trapped between the rock of my sister's hurt feelings and the hard place of Sarah's unshakable authority.

"Then what is it, big guy?" Sarah purred, her blue eyes all wide and innocent. "Don't you want to feel better? Don't you want all that yucky poison to get out of your system? Look at him, Lisa. He's still pointing. He's in a lot of pain. And we're the only ones who can help him."

"Fine," I mumbled, the word tasting like defeat. "Fine. Just... make it quick."

A slow, triumphant smile spread across Lisa's face. "Don't worry, Tommy," she said, her voice all bright and cheery again. "I'll be very, very gentle."

She took my hand and led me out of the bathroom, down the hall, and back to my room. My legs were still all wobbly from the bath, and my carrot was still pointing, a hard, angry red, a silent, desperate protest against what was about to happen.

"Okay," Sarah said, plopping down on my desk chair. "You're the expert, Lisa. What do you want to do?"

Lisa looked at my bed, then at me. A thoughtful, serious look on her face. "He should probably lie down," she said, like a real doctor. "So he's comfortable. And so I can get a good angle."

"Good idea," Sarah said. "Lie down, Tommy."

I did what she said. I lay down on my bed, the sheets all cool and soft against my naked skin. I felt like I was on an operating table, a specimen about to be dissected.

Lisa climbed onto the bed, kneeling between my spread legs. She looked so small, but she had this look on her face, a look of pure, unadulterated concentration. She was in charge here. I was just the patient.

"Okay," she said, her little hands reaching out. She wrapped one around the base of my carrot, her grip surprisingly firm. "Let's get this over with."

My whole body tensed up. A fresh wave of hot, prickly embarrassment washed over me. My own little sister. Was about to give me a handjob. A medical handjob, but still. It was so wrong. So twisted.

But then, my eyes did this thing. They sort of drifted down, away from her face, and I really looked at her. And a weird thought popped into my head. She looked... good. Really good. She was wearing this little pair of cutoff denim shorts, the kind with frayed threads on the thighs, and a tiny, cropped yellow t-shirt that showed off a little sliver of her tummy. The bright yellow was a happy, cheerful color against her brown hair. And the way she was kneeling, her back straight, her shoulders back, a little line of concentration between her brows... she looked so grown up. So... confident. A weird, twisted little thought popped into my head. My little sister's hot holding my penis.

I hated myself for thinking it. But it was true.

Then she started to stroke.

Her hand was small, but her movements were slow and steady. Up and down. A slow, deliberate rhythm that made my breath hitch in my throat. Her other hand came up to gently cup my balls, her fingers tracing little circles on the sensitive skin.

"See, Tommy? I told you I knew what I was doing," she said, her voice all proud and a little bit smug. She was enjoying this. I could see it in her eyes, in the little smirk that was playing on her lips. She liked this power she had over me. She liked the way my body was responding to her touch, the way my carrot was throbbing in her hand. I could feel a fresh wave of slickness coat my carrot, a traitorous response to her touch, and her eyes lit up when she saw it.

"That's good, Tommy. The healthy liquid is starting to drive the toxins out," she commented, but I could see the way her eyes were lit up with a dark, giddy fire. This wasn't about medicine for her. This was about me. About my naked body, and her fully-clothed self. I was her toy, and she was loving every second of it.

Her praise was a strange, heady mix of sisterly concern and a dark, teasing power. "You're being so good, letting me do this," she cooed, her thumb gently rubbing the little bundle of nerves right under the head. "You're my big, strong brother, but right now, you need me. You need me to take care of you."

A choked sob escaped my lips. My hips started to move, a slow, lazy push, a rhythm that was all mine. I was fucking her hand. Not fast, not hard, just a steady, desperate push that was my body's only way of telling her thank-you. She gasped a little, and then grinned at me, a big, proud, happy grin that was all for me.

"That's my good boy," she praised, her movements getting a little faster, her grip a little tighter. "Just let it all out. Don't be shy. Let all that yucky poison out for me. Let your little sister see it." Her words were a sweet, confusing murmur, a mix of care and control that made my head spin.

The pressure was building. That hot, tight coil in my stomach was winding itself up, ready to spring. I could feel the familiar tingle at the base of my spine, the signal that the end was near.

"That's it, Tommy. I can see my big brother's beautiful carrot, but you can't see anything under my clothes. You can see my tummy, but my shorts are keeping my little pussy a secret. And you can see how big my peachy boobies are getting, but you can't see them, because my shirt is covering them up. They're getting all tingly because I'm helping you, big brother. They want you to see them, but I won't let you. I'll stay all dressed up for you," she purred. She was point and praising me, but it was different. More possessive. More... sisterly.

The praise, the sight of her in her little shorts and crop top, the feeling of her small, warm hand on my carrot... it was all too much. The coil snapped. My whole body went rigid. A strangled cry was torn from my throat. A hot, sticky jet of fluid shot out of me, splashing onto my stomach.

"Don't stop, Lisa. You need to keep going!" Sarah chirped from the corner of the room. A happy, satisfied little spectator.

Lisa kept going. Her hand was a relentless, milking machine, her movements a fast, steady rhythm that was driving me completely out of my mind. My carrot became a super-sensitive, raw nerve that was screaming with every touch.

"It's too much," I whimpered, my hands flying down to try and push her away. "Lisa, please, stop. It hurts."

"Uh-uh, big brother," she scolded, her voice all firm and bossy. She didn't even slow down. "I have to get all the poison out. We're almost there. Just a little more. You can take it. For me."

She didn't let go of my carrot. She just batted my hands away, a gesture that was so easy, so effortless, it was even more humiliating than her teasing. "Your private parts deserve to be out and stroked, while my private parts deserve to be covered up. That's just the way it is. Now, be a good boy and let your little sister take care of you."

My whole body was trembling, a fine, constant shudder that I couldn't control. My breath came in ragged, hitching gasps. I was a mess. A drooly, sweaty, trembling mess, completely at my little sister's mercy. And she was loving it.

"Look at you, Tommy," she purred, her brown eyes all dark and swimming with a hungry, triumphant fire. "All sweaty and red and crying for me. You're so beautiful when you're a mess for me."

And then, she did it. She pushed me right over the edge again.

Another wave of pleasure, more intense than the last, crashed over me. It wasn't a wave. It was a tsunami. A full-body, convulsive orgasm that ripped a long, silent scream from my throat. My whole body arched off the bed, a perfect, rigid bow. My hands flew down to cover myself, but it was a weak, half-hearted protest, a token resistance that was no match for her new, unshakable determination.

"Please, please, please! No more! I can't! Oh, Lisa, please!" I begged, the words a broken, ragged mess. Her hands were able to push me away with ease.

"Shhh, it's okay, baby," she cooed, her voice a soft, soothing hum. She never let go of my carrot, not even for a second. "You're being so good. You're taking your medicine so well. You're my brave, strong big brother."

And I broke. A sob escaped my lips, a raw, ragged sound of pure, unadulterated surrender. I was hers. All hers. My brain, my body, my silly, useless carrot. It was all hers to do whatever she wanted with. And she knew it.

She started giggling, as her relentless hand kept pumping up and down my carrot, a steady rhythm that was driving me completely out of my mind.

"Awww, is my big brother crying?" Lisa teased, her little face all alight with a giddy, triumphant light. "Don't worry. I'll make it all better." She leaned over me, her face so close to mine I could feel the warmth of her breath. She was so close, I could see the little flecks of gold in her brown eyes. And I could see down her shirt, just a little. The soft, pale curve of her developing breast, the little brown nipple that was a hard little point against the fabric.

My breath hitched in my throat. A fresh wave of slickness coated my carrot, a hot, heavy pulse of pure, traitorous pleasure.

"You're still so hard for me, big brother," she whispered, her voice a low, husky murmur. "We need to keep going until you're no longer pointing," she explained, her little finger gently wiping a tear from my cheek. She was so close, I could smell the sweet, fruity scent of her shampoo. My whole body tensed up, a jolt of pure, nervous energy shooting through me.

"Lisa, please, no," I begged, my hips bucking, a desperate, useless motion that she easily controlled. "It's too much. Please."

"You can take it," she cooed, her other hand gently rubbing my chest, her fingers tracing little circles around my nipples. "You're my brave, strong big brother. You can take anything I give you."

Her praise was a sweet, confusing murmur, a mix of care and control that made my head spin. My hips bucked, a desperate, useless motion. I wanted it to stop. I needed it to stop. But a deeper, darker part of me didn't want her to ever stop.

"You're such a good boy for your little sister. You're normally used to being in charge of me. But that's not the case now, is it? I'm in charge now, big brother. And I'm going to take care of you," she said, her thumb gently rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her praise was a hot, heavy pulse of pure, traitorous pleasure.

The pressure was building again. A fresh wave of panic washed over me. I couldn't. It was too much. I couldn't take another orgasm like that. But my body was already betraying me, my hips pushing up against her hand, a silent, desperate plea for more.

"Lisa, I'm... I'm gonna..." I stammered, my words dissolving into a long, shuddering moan. My whole body went rigid. A strangled cry was torn from my throat. Another hot, sticky jet of fluid shot out of me, weaker this time, a final, desperate gasp of a system that was completely, utterly spent.

But she didn't stop. She was enjoying her new-found control over me too much. Her hand kept moving. A slow, relentless, milking motion that was making me see stars. A choked sob escaped my lips.

"Please, Lisa, stop," I begged, my hands flying down to try and push her away. "It hurts. It's too much."

"Uh-uh, big brother," she scolded, her voice all firm and bossy. "I have to get all the poison out. We're almost there. Just a little more. You can take it. For me."

I looked at her then, at my little sister, at the fierce, determined look on her face. And a weird, twisted thought popped into my head. She's right. I'm in her control now. I'm her naked boy, and I like it.

A fresh wave of slickness coated my carrot, a hot, heavy pulse of pure, traitorous pleasure. Lisa just laughed with determination, taking it as a sign that the extraction was working, and not the dark, shameful thrill that it was.

"That's my good boy," she praised, her movements getting a little faster, her grip a little tighter. "Your body is trying to protect you. But I know what's best for you. Now, let me take care of you."

My hips bucked, a desperate, useless motion. I wanted it to stop. I needed it to stop. But a deeper, darker part of me didn't want her to ever stop. I was trapped in a strange, confusing loop of pleasure and pain, of stop and more.

"You know, big brother," she purred, her brown eyes all dark and swimming with a hungry, triumphant fire. "I never thought my big brother would be this much fun. All naked and squirming for me."

Her words were a sweet, confusing murmur, a mix of care and control that made my head spin. "I think I'm going to enjoy having a naked big brother. Knowing that I can look at your private parts any time I want. I'm going to enjoy taking care of you." she said, her thumb gently rubbing the sensitive head. My whole body was trembling, a fine, constant shudder that I couldn't control.

"Please, Lisa, stop," I begged, my hands flying down to try and push her away. "It hurts. It's too much."

"Uh-uh, big brother," she scolded, her voice all firm and bossy. "I have to get all the poison out. We're almost there. Just a little more. You can take it. For me."

And I broke. A sob escaped my lips, a raw, ragged sound of pure, unadulterated surrender. I was hers. All hers. My brain, my body, my silly, useless carrot. It was all hers to do whatever she wanted with. And she knew it. She giggled, her little face all alight with a giddy, triumphant light.

I came one last time, my vision a blur, and my head swimming. Lisa giggled and giggled as my body spasmed, and I let out a shuddering cry, as she kept up her relentless, milking motion.

When I finally collapsed against the bed, my body a limp, trembling noodle, Lisa finally let go. A huge, proud smile was plastered on her face. She looked like a cat who'd just eaten a whole canary. A very big, very happy, very satisfied cat. "See? I told you I knew what I was doing," she chirped, hopping off the bed.

"Wow, Lisa," Sarah said, getting up from the desk chair and walking over to the bed. She looked at me, at the mess on my stomach, and then at Lisa, her blue eyes all bright with pride. "You're a natural. You did such a good job."

"I know, right?" Lisa agreed, puffing out her chest with importance.

I felt the girls bring me back to the bath, to clean me up, and then lying me down on my bed to rest, but I was so out of it, it felt like I was in a dream. At some point, I noticed that Lisa had left, and that it was just Sarah and me in the room. She helped me sit up. She just looked at me for a while, a triumphant smirk on her lips, before she finally said something.

"I saw your face, big guy," she purred, her voice a low, teasing rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. She was leaning against my desk, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at me like I was a puzzle she'd just solved.

"What face?" I mumbled, my brain all fuzzy and slow. "My face is... face."

She let out this little laugh, a low, throaty sound that was both beautiful and terrifying. "Don't even try it, Tommy. You can't lie to me. Not about this." She pushed herself off the desk and walked over to the bed, her hips swaying in a way that made my own half-asleep carrot give a little twitch of interest. "You enjoyed that. You enjoyed it when Lisa was touching you."

My whole body went rigid. A hot, prickly wave of shame washed over me. "No, I didn't," I said, my voice a little too loud, a little too fast. "That's... that's gross. She's my sister."

"Uh-huh," she said, her voice full of this sweet, mocking disbelief. She climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of me, her face so close to mine I could feel the warmth of her breath. "Is that why your face was all scrunched up like that? Like you were in a whole lot of pain?" She reached out and gently touched my cheek, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "Or was it a whole lot of pleasure?"

"It was pain," I insisted, but my voice was weak, a pathetic little whisper against the loud, thumping sound of my own heart.

"Sure it was," she purred, her blue eyes all dark and swimming with a hungry, triumphant fire. "You're a terrible liar, Tommy. You know that, right?" She leaned in even closer, her lips just a breath away from mine. "I saw it. I saw the exact moment you stopped fighting it. The exact moment your body gave in. Your hips started moving. You were pushing into her hand, weren't you? Chasing the feeling."

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to push her away and tell her she was crazy. But I couldn't. Because she was right. Every single word was right. And the shame of that, the hot, awful truth of it, was so overwhelming it was like a physical weight.

"See?" she whispered, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her face. "You can't even say it. Because you know I'm right. You enjoyed it. You enjoyed every single, twisted second of it."

"No," I whispered, the word a useless, pathetic puff of air. "That's... that's not right."

"Oh, it's more than right, big guy," she purred, her fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down my chest, towards my stomach. "It's perfect. It's exactly what I was hoping for." Her voice dropped, a low, hypnotic murmur that was meant only for me. "The thrill of it. The absolute, balls-to-the-wall thrill of getting to do something so naughty, so forbidden, and knowing there's nothing, not a single thing, anyone can do about it. We can do anything we want. And we don't even have to feel guilty about it, because it's all for your 'health'."

Her words were a poison, a sweet, intoxicating cocktail that went straight to my head, making me dizzy and brave. A dark, shameful thrill shot through me. She was right. It was a thrill. A sick, twisted, wonderful thrill.

"And the best part," she continued, her blue eyes all alight with a fierce, triumphant glee, "is that it wasn't just me who felt it. You did too. I saw it on your face, big guy. The second you let go. The second you stopped fighting and just... let it happen. It thrilled the darkest, most secret parts of you, didn't it? Admit it."

My own face went hot, a fresh wave of blush spreading across my cheeks. I couldn't meet her eyes. I just stared at a loose thread on my comforter, my mind a big, jumbled mess of shame and a dark, terrifying excitement. I couldn't. I couldn't admit it. It was too much. Too wrong.

"Come on, Tommy," she coaxed, her voice a soft, wheedling purr. "Don't be shy. It's just me. Your girlfriend. The girl who knows all your dirty little secrets. You can tell me."

She leaned in and gently nipped at my earlobe, her teeth a sharp, little bite that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to my groin. "Tell me you liked it," she whispered, her hot breath a ticklish little puff of air against my skin. "Tell me you liked it when your own little sister, your cute, innocent little Lisa, was touching you. Making you all hard. Making you cum."

My breath hitched in my throat. My carrot, which I thought was completely, utterly spent, gave a traitorous little twitch. A little spark of life.

"See?" she purred, a triumphant little smirk on her face. "Your body is telling me the truth. Even if your lips won't." She shifted, her knee pressing against my thigh, a casual, possessive touch that was both comforting and a little bit scary. "Your body is my plaything, Tommy. And I'm learning all its little secrets. Even the ones you're trying to hide from yourself."

I let out a long, shuddering sigh. The fight was over. I had lost. "Okay," I mumbled, the word so quiet I could barely hear it myself. "Okay. I... I... maybe I liked it a little."

A huge, triumphant smile spread across her face. "I knew it," she crowed, a bright, happy little sound that was so full of pride it made my own chest feel a little puffy. "I knew my big, brave boyfriend had a little bit of a wild streak in him."

"It's just... it's so wrong," I whispered, the words a ragged, shredded confession. "She's my sister."

"And I'm your girlfriend," she said, her voice a low, serious purr that was meant only for me. She took my face in her hands, her palms warm against my skin. "And we're in this together. All of it. The good, the bad, and the... twisted."

She leaned in then, and her lips were on mine. It wasn't a kiss like the others. It wasn't hungry or demanding. It was soft. Gentle. A slow, deep kiss that tasted of forgiveness and a strange, dark understanding. Her tongue met mine, a slow, deliberate dance that was a silent conversation. A promise.

"I think we were made for each other, Tommy Miller," she whispered, her lips still brushing against mine. "You and me. We're the same. We want the same things."

And looking at her, at the fierce, loving look in her blue eyes, I knew she was right. We were a weird, twisted, perfect match. Two sides of the same messed-up coin. "You're probably right," I admitted, a slow, shaky smile spreading across my face. I pulled her back in for another kiss, this one deeper, more certain. A kiss that sealed our pact.