Slave To My Sister
by tiny tim - tinytimbro@hotmail.com
How i became my Kid Sister's servant
 
Having discovered the Diana the Valkyrie website, my sister has
instructed me to tell your readers how she gained total control over my
body and my life. She delights at reading your stories, especially the
many in which little sisters become stronger than their big brothers.
 
In my case, however, I would feel odd calling Rebecca my little sister.
Yes, she's younger than me, and I used to truly be the big brother. But
that was a long time ago. Now my "little sister" dwarfs me, standing more
than half a foot taller than me in her bare feet. She is much stronger
than me, with an awesome body that makes mine look insignificant by
comparison, and she never lets me forget it.
 
Genetics sucks, in my opinion. It certainly played a cruel trick on me.
Rebecca got all of the good stuff and I got the opposite. Dad was six
feet tall, athletic and a very smart and successful businessman, though
he wasn't that great looking. Mom was shorter, but was very pretty with a
great figure. Rebecca inherited Dad's athletic abilities, sharp thinking
and strong self-confidence, and Mom's beauty. I inherited Dad's plain
looks, and Mom's thin figure. But worst of all, Rebecca inherited Dad's
height and I inherited Mom's shortness.
 
I hadn't realized this phenomena right away. All I knew was I was always
one of the shortest kids in my class, and I always got picked on because
of it. I reacted by taking out my frustration on my little sister
Rebecca, who, being three years younger than me, was a convenient target
when we were kids. The more I got hassled at school, the more I hassled
Rebecca.
 
But as Rebecca approached her teens, I noticed a disturbing trend. My
little sister, who had always been a head shorter than me, had narrowed
the gap. Even though I was shorter than most of my peers, I was bigger
than Rebecca, and though I never really thought about it, I guess I
figured that I would always be the "big" brother. But now, instead of
coming up to my neck, Rebecca had reached my eye height. And now that I
was looking, I noticed that Rebecca was one of the tallest kids in her
class!
 
And not only that, Rebecca, who had always been pretty, was turning into
a "babe", as guys even my age were starting to say. Once a gawky girl,
she now was developing self-confidence and poise as well as developing a
shapely, hard athletic body. One day she gave up her long, little-girl
pigtails and let her thick black hair flow freely below her shoulders,
and suddenly she was a striking looking young woman. I couldn't help
notice that guys were starting to look at my kid sister in an entirely
different way than I was used to.
 
I was unsettled by the thought that my physical dominance over my sister
wasn't as great as it used to be, so one day I tried to reassure myself
by picking a fight with Rebecca. As I was wrestling her to the ground,
preparing to pounce on her, my sister gave me a hard shove, more out of
frustration than anything else, and I fell to the floor. Rebecca was as
surprised as I was that I wasn't able to easily overpower her as I had in
the past, but suddenly the fear that I had always instilled in her left
her eyes. In its place I saw a confidence that she has had ever since. I
got up and pushed back, but Rebecca held on and wrestled me down, and we
rolled around for a while. Her body was sturdier than mine, despite the
fact that I was still taller than her, and I was lucky to break away. It
was at best a draw. I muttered some tough words about how I was going to
let her off easy, but she chuckled at me as I went to my room.
 
Despite my bravado, my sister knew that she had successfully repelled my
attack, the first time she had ever been able to do that.
 
On the next day, Rebecca grinned at me in a way that she never had
before. It was a challenging, taunting look, almost daring me to start
another fight. She used to dread these confrontations, but now she seemed
eager for one. I, on the other hand, was, for the first time in my life,
afraid of what might happen in our next tussle.
 
As the weeks went on, it was clear that at the age of 16 I had stopped
growing at 5'5". Rebecca seemed to be getting closer to my height each
day, and she noticed. She started wearing shoes and boots with high
heels, putting her above me in height. She enjoyed being able to look
down on her "big" brother. And her body was becoming more formidable in
other ways. Rebecca was on the soccer, basketball and track teams, and
had been working out extra hard since our last fight. And as she grew
taller, Rebecca sized me up when she looked at me. Her once fearful look
had been replaced by eager anticipation.
 
A couple of months later, the inevitable happened. Rebecca had spent the
spring vacation with our grandparents in Florida, and came back with more
than just a suntan. "Hi, LITTLE brother!" she purred as her lips formed a
gleeful, mischievous smile while she walked up to me, and looked down
into my eyes. She was wearing sneakers like me, and I was staring up at
the awful truth: My 13 year-old sister had grown taller than me, her 16
year-old brother!
 
What added to the humiliation of my little sister now being bigger than
me was that she was gloating about it in front of our parents, who seemed
amused by it. Dad and Rebecca shared the same forceful personality, and
Dad felt that he had more in common with her than with me. My small, thin
frame and meekness was a disappointment to him. And though Mom loved both
of us, of course, she had a closer mother-daughter relationship with
Rebecca, so I had little real sympathy in my house as Rebecca
continued to celebrate having become physically superior to me. My
parents just smiled while Rebecca playfully pushed me around the room,
demonstrating how easily she could manhandle me and how powerless I was
to stop her. They had no idea how badly I had treated her when I was
truly the "big" brother, and they would never know the extent of how
badly she would treat me from that day on.
 
In front of Mom and Dad, Rebecca made me arm wrestle with her. My sister
is right-handed and I'm a lefty, so it wasn't surprising when she slammed
my right hand down instantly. But with her left hand Rebecca toyed with
me, making me struggle while she held her upright grip on me. Then
slowly, with a triumphant smile, her weaker arm overpowered my stronger
one! "I knew that I could do this months ago," she crowed as she squeezed
my fingers painfully while grinding my hand into the floor, "but I
figured that I would wait until you officially became my 'little
brother'! It's been fun watching you helplessly look at me grow over the
past few months, after you stopped growing. I decided to lay off of you
then, but now all of that changes!"
 
Rebecca laughed at me as I avoided her for the rest of the day. I wasn't
sure what kind of "changes" she was talking about, but I had some ideas,
and my worst fears were confirmed the next morning.
 
As usual, I rode my bike to school, leaving early, trying to avoid
Rebecca. We went to the same Junior-Senior high school complex. Our
classes were in different wings, but we shared common playing fields,
bike racks, teacher's parking lots, etc. I started to lock up my bike
while trying to flirt with one of the few girls in my class who was
shorter than me, Wendy. I hadn't seen Rebecca coming, but she rode up in
her bike and ran into me, knocking me down. I had tried my best to avoid
a confrontation with my sister, but now she was picking a fight with me,
in front of our classmates!
 
"I'm putting my bike here!" she declared. I was stunned by how forceful
her body was. To save face in front of our schoolmates I got up and
pushed back at her, but her workouts had made her body so solid that I
almost bounced off of her. She stepped right up to me, letting everyone
see how she, my little sister, was now the bigger sibling.
 
"Now I'm going to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time.
I'm going to beat you up, Timmy. I'm going to knock you down! I know that
I embarrassed you in front of Mom and Dad yesterday, but they wouldn't
have let me punch you out! But now, they're not here to protect their
weak little boy from his mean, big-little sister!"
 
It took just three punches. A left to my gut, doubling me over, a right
uppercut to my jaw, snapping my head back, and a blast to my chin,
sending me onto my back. With a wretched groan I rolled over and got up
to my hands and knees. But before I had a chance to recover, Rebecca sat
down firmly on my back and gripped the hair on the nape of my neck.
 
"You should have obeyed me right away, Timmy." she chided. "Now I'll have
to teach you a lesson that you and this school will never forget. Crawl
over to the bleachers!"
 
I turned around to object, but Rebecca stabbed her heels into my flanks.
"MOVE IT!" she barked like a drill sergeant, not like the little sister
who used to cower in fear in front of me. Tentatively I crawled a few
steps, but another few kicks to my side and belly sped me up. With her
grip on my neck Rebecca steered me onto the grass and towards the
bleachers where the football players and cheerleaders always hung out
before school started. With my sister victoriously riding me, I looked
around and realized that dozens of our fellow classmates were now
watching us intently. I tried to apologize to Rebecca for not moving my
bike and promised to do it if she would let me up, but she responded not
in words, but by painfully gripping the back of my neck with her strong
fingers.
 
As we approached them, the football players and cheerleaders gathered
around us. "Now lower your head and take a big bite of the grass!"
commanded Rebecca. I started to protest, but my sister responded by
kicking my arms out, sending my face crashing, nose first, into the
ground. I could feel the immediate swelling, but as soon as I tried to
lift my head, Rebecca tightened her hold on my neck. "I said EAT!" she
growled, and frantically I started taking bites of the grass. She ordered
me to chew, swallow and take more bites, and now I was obeying her more
eagerly than I had just a few minutes before. And I was doing it in front
of the most popular students in school!
 
After making me swallow yet another clump of grass, Rebecca squeezed her
thighs around my middle. "As of right now, I'm making you my Boy, Timmy!"
The kids gasped. Some of the girls giggled in excitement. Rebecca dug her
heels into my ribs. "ADMIT IT, BOY!"
 
Let me explain. In our town, in our school, it was a custom that if one
kid beat another in a fight, or otherwise physically imposed his will on
him an proved able to maintain control, the victim would become the
victor's "Boy". Being someone's Boy was as awful a stigma as could be
attained in school. A Boy was subject to a constant array of
humiliations, serving his "Boss" (the commonly used term for the
dominator) by carrying his books, serving his lunch in the cafeteria and
otherwise demonstrating to their fellow classmates who was the Boss and
who was the Boy. It was commonly accepted and as long as he didn't get
too far out of hand, the faculty usually looked the other way, in
deference to the school's age-old tradition.
 
In all of those years, however, there was an unwritten rule that a male
cold never boss a female. And though one female occasionally became the
Boss of another, this was less common and usually didn't last as long as
with the guys. It was considered unsporting for someone to boss a Boy who
was in a lower grade than his own, but if on occasion a younger male was
able to subjugate an older one, it was considered fair game.
 
In nobody's memory, however, had the school seen a girl bossing a guy.
And, if that wasn't enough for people to take notice, it was a junior
high school girl bossing a high school guy. And though one or two younger
brothers had made their older brothers into their Boy, it was
unprecedented for a younger sister to become her older brother's Boss;
and to make him her Boy! But that is exactly what my kid sister was doing
to me. "ADMIT IT!" Rebecca barked again.
 
My situation was hopeless "YES, BOSS REBECCA, I AM YOUR BOY!" I trembled,
using the term of subservience well known to the entire student  body.
With those words, from that moment, I became my younger sister's slave,
and all of our classmates knew it and treated me with contempt because of
it, and the remainder of my high school career was a daily misery.
 
After my verbal acceptance of my fate, Rebecca's grip on my neck steered
me back towards where our bikes were. The cheerleaders all raced towards
the other students, shouting out the news to them. When we got to the end
of the grass and my knees hit the pavement, the pain slowed me down, but
Rebecca slammed the backs of her shoes into my belly as she rode me, and
after a stumble I raced frantically to the bikes. There were over a
hundred kids watching when she finally got off of my back, ordering me to
lock her bike in the spot that she had taken away from me. Even Wendy,
the girl that I had been flirting with, joined in the contemptuous
chiding of the crowd.
 
Rebecca then led me to the end of the rows of  bike racks to the one
closest to the entrance to the school grounds but farthest away from the
classrooms. No one put there bikes anywhere near there, so mine would be
very conspicuous. "You will lock your bike here every day, Boy!" she
announced. "You will then go to the closest spot to the classrooms and
save the spot for me until I get there. You will lock up my bike and
always remain 3 steps behind me until I dismiss you. After classes you
will stand silently by my bike until I get there, after track practice.
Only then will you be allowed to get your own bike and leave. And when
you do leave you will go directly home without stopping. Understand,
Boy?"
 
"Yes, Boss Rebecca!" I muttered, loud enough for some of the kids to
hear. In 10 minutes my kid sister had truly become my Boss, making me do
humiliating acts and verbally accepting her authority to do it. She had
given me a series of long and short term orders, and  before first period
started every student in both wings of the Junior-Senior High knew that I
was my sister Rebecca's Boy.
 
From that day, Rebecca put me through my degrading paces. Everyone
entering the school grounds passed by my bike and had no choice but to
notice it, since it was twenty feet away from the others. And then they
would pass by me as I guarded Rebecca's choice spot on the closest bike
rack. There was always a crowd by the time Rebecca rolled up. I would get
to my knees to lock her bike, just as she ordered, while she stood over
me, hands on her hips.
 
Since we were in different wings of the school, I was spared, for then,
the indignity of carrying my sister's books, but we shared the same
cafeteria and unfortunately the same lunch period. She had me prepare
sandwiches at home, usually tuna or turkey, her favorites, and had me buy
her salad, drink and dessert at school. I served her lunch like an
obsequious butler (as other Boys were doing with their male Bosses) and
had to get her permission for me to eat my own lunch, which she always
made, and which always consisted of peanut butter (which she knows I
hate) with different additions that she kept surprising me with -
ketchup, mustard, anchovy paste, horseradish, hot peppers - anything that
would make my lunch as revolting as possible. She often made me buy her a
second cold drink, while my thirst and dry mouth was agonizing.
 
For the rest of the school year I followed the same humiliating routine.
I was mocked  by even the nerdiest of students,  and even though I tried
to obey all of Rebecca's orders immediately, she always found a reason to
further demean me. She had me race the entire Girl's track team once
around the oval, and of course I came in  dead last. She then made me
kiss the girl's feet out of respect for their beating me in the race. She
would sit on my back and always made me take a big bite of the grass and
swallow it, and then she rode me on my back towards the locker room while
her teammates ranked me out while kicking at my arms and legs.
 
Rebecca extended her authority over me into our house. She wasn't nearly
as severe or as physically punishing in front of our parents as she was
at school, or when we were home alone, but she quietly and firmly let me
know that I was to assume all of her chores. Mom and Dad had only a vague
idea of what the Boss and Boy thing was all about, and when they saw me
cleaning up after dinner every evening as well as taking out the garbage,
and heard me address my sister as "Boss Rebecca". Dad just shook his head
and chuckled, while Mom grinned sheepishly. She gave me looks of
sympathy, but she also showed pride in Rebecca's assertiveness.Once my
sister was busting my balls more roughly than usual, but as Mom was about
to say something, Rebecca shot her a look that kept her quiet. I resigned
myself to the fact that as long as my kid sister and I were living in the
same house, her authority over me would be unquestioned and unimpeded by
our parents.
 
And with each passing week, Rebecca grew taller and taller. By the end of
school, she was over an inch taller than me. Of course, she always
addressed me as "Boy", but to others, she referred to me as "Tiny Tim".
By the summer, she had all of the kids at school calling me "Tiny Tim".
 
Rebecca spent most of the summer at a soccer camp, so I was spared her
daily degradations. But I couldn't go anywhere without kids all over town
taunting me by calling me "Tiny Tim", so even when she was away she was
making me miserable.
 
Rebecca is making me stop here to send you our story up to this point. In
the next part I will pick up after summer - my senior year, one of the
worst years of my life, thanks to my Big Little Sister Boss Rebecca.

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