It started out as a typical gooning night. Nothing special. Just another Saturday night by myself, sat in front of my computer - cock in hand - languishing in the digital glow of internet porn.

I recently acquired an obscenely huge cache of pirated porn… downloaded fresh from some dodgy Russian website. Like most amateur porn content, it was mostly uninspired and boring—typical of amateur porn. At least it was fresh, though—and better yet, it was 100% real. None of that over-produced crap.

There were also some fucked up diamonds buried amongst the rough—including ‘blood diamonds’ apparently… but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I scrolled through the seemingly endless list of videos, and eventually clicked on one more or less at random. The chick in the thumbnail had a pretty hot body, I guess—but it was just one thumbnail hidden among thousands; a total shot in the dark.

It turned out to be a masturbation video, shot vertically on a phone, with the slut’s face cropped out from the neck up.

It took me a second to process what I was watching and another few seconds to actually believe it.

I blinked. "What the fuck?" I muttered under my breath, leaning close towards the monitor, frantically scrutinising the background set. It kinda looked like…

"What. The. Fuck..."

It was my older sister's bedroom. Your bedroom. I didn’t need to see your face to recognise it.

I leaned forward, almost falling off my chair in an effort to open a new tab and pound your newly-discovered username into the search bar. I clicked the top link and began to scroll.

Sure enough, there you were—on display in all sorts of compromising positions…

What the fuck.

First thing I did was jerk off to your content—twice.

Then, I lot to thinking the question any other fucked-in-the-head, porn-poisoned pervert would: how best to leverage this situation to my advantage?

Shortly after my post-nut clarity wore off, a devious little plot began to crystallise in my mind. Sure, I could have confronted you straight away—tried my luck for some custom content, maybe? Something like that would happen in all the scripted porn I watched. But this was real life. Taking that route would have eliminated a chunk of my opening advantage: anonymity. You - of all people - should be able to appreciate that, I'm sure. Your reputation mattered to you—more than most things, including your nerdy brother.

\*

So - two days ago - I uncovered your dirty little secret.

I still found it hard to believe, though. Little Miss Perfect herself - my conceited mega-bitch of an elder sister - was an e-whore. It wasn’t like you were making much money at it, either. Your content was bland and uninspired. Hardly fit to monetise. Which could only mean you were doing it for the thrill of attention; for validation from perverts on the internet. That was more than a little sad, to be honest. And you were always so quick to call ME a loser.

Well, not all attention is good attention. I was going to teach you that.

You did me a favour by using the same username across all your naughty digital haunts—like the tech-illiterate cunt you were. Your online footprint was relatively trivial to track. You couldn't have made things any easier for me—easy to download, catalogue, and keep on my SSD.

I missed nothing. I got to work hoovering up every image, every video... even the one you must have forgotten to scrub from existence, with your face in it, contorted in orgasmic bliss as you thrummed your cunt with a dildo.

\*

Over the past two days, I have been... texting you. Straight to your personal number. I used an app that gave me a false identity. I didn't hold back, either. I started out nice and aggressive—to really set the tone.

The first wave of blackmail messages hit at midnight; I could hear your phone vibrating and beeping in your room next door as they came through, one after another.

'Nice tits, you stupid slut.' Attached: a picture of your tits.

'I prefer this one, though...' Attached: a video of you utterly abusing your cunt with a dildo—with your face clearly in the shot.

'Thought you deleted that, didn't you? Not on your Reddit account. The one that got suspended.' Attached: several slutty photos with your face plainly in view. 'Didn’t anyone ever tell you that the internet is forever, whore?'

'These were an interesting read...' Attached: transcripts of some depraved shit you wrote on Reddit—probably in a bid for traffic and attention.

'This is my favourite part, though...' Attached: our home address, your full name, members of your school faculty, and date of birth.

'What do you think they would say about your dirty little hobby?' Attached: a few names... people who mattered to you. People you guarded your reputation for. Friends. Situationships. Family members.

'I want to make a deal... Change my name to Daddy in your contacts. You're going to make me some custom content...' Attached: a screenshot of an email in my drafts folder—with all the incriminating evidence included as attachments. It was addressed to everyone that mattered most to you.

I remember laughing when you deleted all your content in a frantic panic.

'That content was boring anyway...' I texted when you were finished. 'But if you delete any of the accounts you'll regret it... Ready to make a deal? You're mine for a week, then I'll leave you alone. Type 'yes' if you understand. And standby for further instructions.'

\*

Now - two days later - our parents are due to go on a little vacation.

We would have the whole house to ourselves. And it was about time for the big reveal.

Your new blackmail 'Daddy' (who you had been performing digitally for, almost non-stop for the past few days) was, in fact, Derek... your 'loser' brother. And my week of ownership wasn't up yet.

\*

The house was dead quiet. It was sometime after 10. About an hour ago, our parents left to catch a red-eye flight; they wouldn't be a problem for a little while; cross that bridge when we burn it.

Everything was in place.

The timing couldn't be any better.

You had fallen for my blackmail bait, hook, line and sinker.

I had enough content to ruin your life ten times over. And yet, I was in my room, sitting at my desk... anxiously deliberating.

"Just do it, you pussy..." I told myself for the millionth time. "Today... everything changes."

I swallowed my nerves and shot you a quick text. I wrote it as Daddy, and addressed it (as usual) to CuntMouth—that was my cute new nickname for you. Not Derek talking to his Megabitch sister.

'On your bed, CuntMouth…’ It read. ‘No clothes. I want another set of videos.'

‘Yes, Daddy.’ You texted back after a minute.

Then - just five minutes after that - the first fresh video of you playing with yourself on your bed came through.

I stood up, straightened my posture to its 5'1 peak, grabbed my phone, and left my room.

Today, everything changes.

Today, everything changes.

Today, everything changes.

No going back after this.

No going back.

I strode down the hallway, headed straight for your room—I was a man on a deprived mission.

Family photographs flanked me on either side, hanging from the walls. You and I were always as far apart as we could get, with our parents between us.

My heart was pounding—but I knew I held all the cards.

Today, everything changes.

Oh fuck. Am I really about to do this?

I answered my own anxious question by barging into your bedroom. No knock. No warning. For some reason, our parents never let us have locks. In the past, you never needed one, though. You would kick my ass if I tried anything like this—but you wouldn't kick Daddy's ass. Not if you knew what was good for you—which you always did.

"That's a good girl, CuntMouth!" I boomed, trying to adopt the confident tone of 'Daddy'... it needed work—I was new at this part of the gig. Still, it was enough to send you scrambling like a roach when the light comes on.

I was smirking down at you on your bed, my expression peevish and eager. "I thought I would come and watch tonight's show in person..."

\[CONTINUE FROM HERE\]

\*

(Derek is a 5'1 barefoot, but he has a gamer-slouch, which makes him shorter still. He's pale. He's scrawny—to the point you can count his ribs. His hair is brown and messy—he hit the genetic shitpot because it's already starting to thin. He has a sharp, angular face, a peevish smirk he wears often, the thinnest wisp of a moustache, and absolutely no chance of getting laid. His cock was surprisingly big, however, at eight inches—and thick, as well.

In this opening, he is wearing grey slacks and a t-shirt that reads "go make me a sandwich!")

\*

**A Few Days Later (smutty teaser for you pervs)**

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! I forcefully pounded the broad butt plug into your asshole with three savage thumps from the heel of my palm. Your asscheeks rippled red as the bulbous piece of studded plastic vanished to the hilt inside the grip of your tight little ring.

When it comes to anal… throat slime didn't make for great lube. You were learning that the hard way. Every day was an education recently, considering I hadn’t had so much as a handjob before getting my hands on you.

"Argh! You little bastard!" You grunted through gritted teeth and desperately balled up two fistfuls of your bedsheet. "You said you'd be gentle!"

"Did I?" I drawled, smirking down at you as you writhed in agony. "Then I suppose I lied... again."

"Bastard!" You snarled, hatred bubbling in your tone. True hatred. "Please," you rasped,

sounding half-delirious as if you might go and start fucking crying again. "T-Take it out? P-P-Pleeease? It fuckin' burns!"

"Okay, okay," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I'll take it out... just relax."You moaned as I slowly twisted and worked the plastic plug from the tight grip of your sphincter, one stud at a time.

"Thank you," you mewled as it popped free.

Then, I hammered the fucking thing back inside with a vicious snarl.

You screamed—and an incoherent litany of pain-induced profanity came pouring out of your mouth.

I laughed. Did you really think I would let you off the hook so frivolously? No. Not when I could have you do anything I fucking wanted.

\*

A couple of weeks ago, I (your loser brother) discovered your 'naught content' account. Your content was generic and tame—mostly solo masturbation stuff. You never showed your face, but I recognised your room.

I confronted you with an ultimatum straight out of a bad porno flick; either you jerked me off one time, or I told Mom and Dad about your raunchy little side hustle. That wasn't such a bad deal, right? One handjob for a lifetime of silence. Sure, it wasn't ideal—being blackmailed by your brother for sexual favours. But after some deliberation, you accepted my proposal.

"Just the one time, right? You swear?" You asked.

"I swear..." I confirmed, smiling broadly.

"Ugh... you little pervert. Fine!" You snapped. "Just the one time."

Well, it didn't go down like that. I recorded the whole damn encounter with a hidden camera. You crouched down on your knees between my splayed legs, jerking me off in my room in high-definition clarity.

I used that footage as my real leverage. You should have seen the look on your face when I made you watch it.

Since that day, I've been amassing a hard drive full of incestuous debauchery to hold over your head—not to mention all the fresh content I've uploaded to your porn account. Your page really took off after I took over the operation.

\*

So, that's how you ended up crawling meekly along your bed with a too-big plug splaying your asshole, trying in vain to escape what was coming next.

"Oh no," I said, chuckling as my hand clasped over your shoulder. "Where do you think you're going? We're nowhere near done. The people wanna see you get fucked again!"

I seized a clump of your hair and wound it around my palm like makeshift reins—snapping your neck back and forcing your teary eyes to gaze into the camera mounted on the head of your bed. The cold lens gazed back at you, ready to record you taking brother's third load of the day.

\*\*\*

*So, a brother is blackmailing his big sister. Let's have some fun with it. Looking to get fucking depraved with this one.*

*To be clear: although I'm looking for something super smutty and fucked up, I appreciate literacy and high effort. My average response hovers around the 350-500 word mark, and I like to get as much out of a roleplay as I put in. I also enjoy brainstorming scenes and twists OOC with my partner. Please include the code word "rape meat" in your message, so I know you've acknowledged this part. There are writing samples on my profile. If your account is empty, please provide samples of your own. Sorry to be demanding, I just have a specific kind of collaboration in mind.*

*We could start at the beginning (where I prompted) or explore a few scenes after brother has already established his mastery.*

*I write off platform, never on Reddit. Please use the code word "fire" to let me know you've acknowledged this. If you prefer to play the younger-party, check out my other post.*

*Kinks: Facefucking, anal, oral worship, non-con, dub-con, free use, unconventional appearances, realistic character depth, pet play, breeding, branding, anal, BDSM, watersports, power difference, bigger sub, smaller dom, realistic suffering, realistic victims.*

[M4F] Blackmailed by your loser brother and turned into a sex slave [literate] [big sub small dom]