My Sister, My Slave



by John Savage

Patty is naked, helpless, her arms bound behind her back, and so very beautiful. She is also highly embarrassed, claiming to have tied herself up and now forced to seek the help of Raven, because she is unable to undo the knots.

From that surprising incident, a new relationship forms between the two young women, a relationship based on domination and submission. Soon, Patty is regularly being tied up, spanked, and forced, not at all against her will, into sexual acts by the older girl.

The roles of Mistress and submissive fit them well, and perhaps they would have lived happily ever after, except for a random meeting with another couple of young women who share the same type of relationship. From that point on, things get complicated – and very nasty.

*** Note about titles.  Originally this book was written under the title “My Sister, My Slave.”  Even though the two “sisters” were only step-sisters sharing no blood relationship, certain prudish distributors objected the title because it sounded like it might involve incest.  Which it does not.  The title was changed to “My Step-Sister, My Slave,” to make their relationship clear.  Still the distributor objected and the title was again changed to “My Friend, My Slave.”  Subsequently this major distributor banned the majority of BDSM oriented books, no matter how mild, including this one and hundreds of others.  So here, I changed it back to the original.


Published: 10 / 2011           No. words: 35,600EX1t

I was sitting up in my bed late at night, reading a book and about to turn off the light when there was a knock on my door.  It had to be Patty.  No one else was in the house.  What the hell does she want this late at night? was my first thought.  But I got up and went to the door.

It was Patty, but she was standing there completely naked!  I had been aware of the fact that she had a very nice body, having seen her in a bikini by the pool, but this was somehow different.  It seemed as if she were pushing her breasts out at me.  She was also blushing and holding her hands behind her back.  At least, that was what I thought she was doing.  Then I saw the ropes going across her chest, three strands above and three strands below her breasts.  The wild ass thought flashed through my mind that this was a kinky come-on for lesbian sex.  But then she spoke.

“Raven,” she said, “I need your help.”

“What do you need?” I asked.

“Please untie me,” she asked in a whisper.  Her eyes turned down and would not meet mine.  She was embarrassed!

“Untie you…?” I said.  “From what?”

She turned around and showed me.  Her wrists were crossed and bound with rope.  Her upper arms were tied to her body by those ropes I saw crossing her chest.

“What the hell!  Who did this?” I demanded.

“I did,” she stammered.  “Oh, Raven, I was just playing around, tying myself up, and I can’t get the knots untied.”

“You mean you did this to yourself?”

“Yes,” was her weak admission.

“And you can’t untie yourself?”


“That’s a pretty silly thing to do,” I told her.  “What if you were alone in the house?”

“Then I would have had to wait until you came home,” she said.

I snorted.  Of all the stupid things to do…

“Come on in where there’s more light,” I told her, then stood aside.  She walked in past me, and headed towards the nightstand where the only light was on.

As she walked in front of me, it occurred to me that this was not just some stupid game she had been playing, like some of the things we did when we were children.  She was eighteen, had a lush woman’s body, and was standing there completely naked.  There was much more to this, that was obvious.

I sat on the edge of my bed to look at her.  She turned her back to me to present the bound hands for removal of the ropes.  I saw where she had tied a couple knots and realized that the ropes had moved somewhat and she could no longer reach the knots with her fingers.  It would be a simple job for me to reach out and undo those two knots.  Then either I could take off the rest of the ropes, or she could do it herself.  After all, she had put them on herself!  I did wonder how she managed to tie her arms and hands behind her back.  And do a good enough job so that she could not untie herself.

After a minute, she looked back over her shoulder, probably wondering why I was not untying the knots.  Truth was, I was feeling some strange emotions.  For some reason, I found her nakedness very attractive.  I had played a few lesbian games with girlfriends, but didn’t consider myself a hard-core lesbian.  I liked having a good, stiff male rod inside me too much to abandon “normal” sex.  I guess I would be called “bi”.

Here I was, only a few inches from a fine female body, and feeling a stronger attraction than any other woman had ever evoked in me.  I found myself wanting to reach out and touch that smooth, soft bottom.  And to touch those ropes, as if they were a sensual part of her, just as her ass and large breasts.

And mixed in with this attraction for her as a sexual woman, there was something else, something I had never felt before.  Part of me didn’t want to untie those ropes!  There was a sense of… of… what?  Power?  Control?  I was not sure of the proper word.  But the feeling was there.  This beautiful young woman with the sexy body was helpless before me and that was turning me on!

I just sat there, not doing anything, so she turned around to see why I hadn’t untied her yet.  I stood up and, in a second, we were standing very close, her taut nipples almost touching the front of my baby-doll.  There was only an inch of air and a very sheer bit of fabric separating them.  Without thinking, I put my hands on her shoulders and held her while I leaned forward.  I kissed her.

It was probably as much a surprise to her as it was to me.  The kiss started out gentle and hesitant, but after a few seconds she was returning the kiss and it became much more a statement of passion.  On both our parts.

A minute later we broke apart, both breathing heavier.  Without words, I pulled her body to mine and we were pressing out breasts together.  My arms went around her and I held her tightly to me.  She rested her head on my shoulder.  I was very much aware of the ropes both touching my breasts in front and under my hands behind her.  The fact that she was denied use of her hands and, therefore, my captive, so to speak, was a wonderful part of the whole scene.

“Are you going to untie me?” she asked in a whisper.

“No,” I answered back, also in a whisper.


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