Family Ties
By Muscle Fan



I'm back in the states after spending three years in the UK. My promotion was
taking me from the London branch office to the headquarters in New York City.
But before I started, I was going to visit my sister in Las Vegas. Lloyd
Smith, the corporate vice president assured me that my office would be waiting
for me when I got to NYC.

I hadn't seen Joan in over three years, the last time being at her wedding to
Peter DeMarco. Peter was a driven attorney representing entertainments elite.
Joan had certainly married into money. But that all may be for naught as her
and Peter had recently divorced. 'I wonder if there was a prenuptial
agreement', I thought as I touched down at McCarran Field in Las Vegas.

Joan was to pick me up at the airport. I disembarked and while waiting for my
bag at the luggage carousel, dialed her cell. "I'm here," I said, once she
picked up, "Where are you?" "Out front, John," my sister said, "at the curb."
The carousel began to move so I said, "I'll be out as soon as I grab my bag,
what are you driving?" She laughed and said, "You won't have problems finding
me," and hung up. 'That's Joan,' I thought as I saw my bag.

I exited the terminal and as Joan said, I had no problems finding her. She sat
behind the wheel of a red convertible Ferrari California. She waved and called
out, "John, over here," as if I didn't see her. I smiled. 'Life has been good
to Joan,' I thought. I wheeled my bag to the car and said, "Pop the trunk and
I'll put this in." She did and I put my bag, which barely fit, into the trunk.

I got in and Joan leaned over and kissed me on the lips. "How's my big
brother?" she asked. Joan was only a year younger than me, but as kids growing
up, I was always protective of her, not that she needed a lot of protection.
Joan was what you might call a 'tom-boy', preferring to be outdoors, playing
basketball with me or riding a bike rather than playing with dolls or
pestering our mother in the kitchen.

As teens we had shared secrets and talked about friends, family and goals. Our
parents occasionally went to visit friends leaving us alone. On those
evenings, Joan and I would pretend to be married, playing house. She would
make popcorn and we would curl up on the couch like our parents did once we
were in bed. Once we hit puberty, I found myself asking more serious questions
of my sister and she of me. One evening, when we were sixteen and fifteen, our
parents having left us alone, we got undressed in our parent's bedroom and
studied each other. It was awkward at first, but exciting too as we explored
each other's bodies.

We didn't have sex, but from that point on, Joan and I had an understanding
and respect for each other that went beyond family bonds.

As Joan raced away from the airport, I looked at my sister. Joan's blonde hair
was blowing in the wind, and contrasted with her deep dessert tan. She was
wearing a short black dress that ended well above her knees and high heels.
'She's not my little sister any more,' I thought. Her arms were firm and well
defined and the same could be said of her thighs. She was obviously a woman
who had taken care of herself.

She glanced at me, "What, John? What are you thinking?" she asked with a
smile. "I'm just thinking of how much you've changed since I saw you last," I
said, "You look fantastic." Her smile broadened as she exited the freeway and
she said, "We've got over three years of catching up to do, John, I'm sure
you've changed too."

Joan drove the Ferrari like a professional driver, down shifting and allowing
the powerful machine to hug the road. She roared along the city streets and
then turned up a hill. The houses got further apart and larger, sitting back
from the road.

She pulled to a stop in front of a wrought iron gate, set in a rock wall, and
pushed a button on the center console. The gate slid open quietly, and she
pulled the car into the circular drive stopping at the flagstone steps leading
to two large front doors. "Welcome to Casa DeMarco," she said, "although I'm
thinking of changing the name." She took off her sunglasses and tossed them on
the dash. Her green eyes sparkled like two emeralds.

"You must be John," a voice said to my right. I turned and a petite brunette
in a Spandex shorts and a sports bra opened the door for me. "Yes, hi," I said
and looked back at Joan who was behind the raised trunk lid. "I'm Gina," she
said as got out of the car. I'm five-foot ten-inches tall and Gina didn't even
come to my shoulders.

"Oh," Joan said shutting the trunk, "how rude of me, John, this is Gina, Gina,
my brother John." She carried my bag as if it was empty and then I realized
that my sister wasn't just well defined as I had first thought, but muscular.
Not only that, but she was taller than me. "Shall we go in?" Joan said, "I
can't wait to get out of these clothes." Gina said, "I'll take that,
mistress," and took my suitcase.

Gina led the way through the front doors. "You can put that in the guest room,
Gina," Joan said, kicking off her stilettos. "Yes, mistress," she said and
took my bag upstairs.

"This way," Joan told me, and I followed her to a large family room. "Do you
mind," she asked turning her back to me. "Huh," I said, not quite knowing what
she wanted. "The zipper, John, unzip me," she said. I pulled the zipper down
to the small of her back and she shrugged out of her black dress, tossing it
on the couch. "Much better," she said, turning around. She was naked.

Joan stretched and I felt my cock stir with the beginning of an erection. "You
can get undressed, John," my sister said, "Get out of those clothes. We can go
for a dip in the pool. You're not embarrassed are you?" My mind was racing.
"Ah, no," I said, "I'm not embarrassed," and began unbuttoning my shirt.
"Good," she said, "Gina will you bring John and I some ice tea out to the
pool?" I turned and Gina was standing there. 'She's as quiet as a cat,' I
thought and then I did a double-take. Gina was naked, her small body and
breasts firm, but not muscular like my sister's.

"How do you ever expect a woman to go down on you, John," Joan asked, "with
all that pubic hair. Gross. Gina can take care of that later." "Yes,
mistress," the girl replied, and turned to get the drinks.

I finished undressing as Joan went out to the patio. I followed minutes later.
Joan was already swimming toward the far end of a large pool. She reached the
end and made a swimmer's turn, ducking under the water and kicking off with
her muscular legs. I stood watching until she got to where she could stand
near the steps. "Come in, John," she said, "I'll race you to the end and
back." I stepped into the pool that was like bath water and Joan said,
"Whenever you're ready, baby." "Go," I said, pushing off and stroking hard. I
made the turn at the far end but didn't see Joan. Then I saw her surface a
full two lengths ahead of me. She had used her powerful legs to kick off of
the wall and glide underwater for nearly half the length of the pool.

When I stood up, she asked, "Again?" Between breaths I said, "No, I think I
need to rest, it was a long flight." She laughed and said, "OK, go lay down
old man, I've got a few more laps to do." I stepped from the pool and headed
for a chaise lounge in the sun. I turned to look back at my sister who was
gliding through the water, barely making a splash.

As teens, I could beat her by a couple of lengths in the high school pool or
the neighbor's backyard pool, but now, Joan beat me. When I turned back to the
lounge chair, Gina was spreading a big fluffy terrycloth towel on the pad. "Is
this one alright, John," she asked. "Yes, thank you, Gina," I said. "I'll
bring your tea over," she said. I saw she had put a couple of plastic glasses
on a tray along with an ice bucket and had them sitting on a table in the
shade.

I lay on the towel she provided and watched as she picked up a small drink
table by the edge and my ice tea in her other hand and brought them to where I
lay. 'Even Gina is pretty strong,' I thought. "Gina, can I ask how long you've
been with Joan?" I asked. She looked down at me and said, "I've been with
Mistress Joan for three years now, shortly after her and Peter got married."
"Oh, so you know Peter," I said. "Yes, I know Peter." 'A short answer,' I
thought, 'I don't think she wants me to ask more about Peter.'

"Why do you call her, Mistress Joan?" I asked. She glanced at Joan still
swimming laps, and then pulled the other chaise lounge close to mine and sat
down. "Mistress Joan is just that, my mistress. I'm her submissive," Gina told
me, "It's a term of respect a submissive shows her mistress or master is all.
She's my dominant." I couldn't get my mind around what she was telling me and
was about to ask more when Joan stepped from the pool. Gina stood up and took
her a towel and began drying her back.

"Thank you, Gina," Joan said, "you may want to bring some lotion for John
before his skin blisters," and she laughed. "Right away, mistress," Gina said
and went to the cabinet holding the towels and other pool amenities.

Joan lay on the chaise next to me and, facing me, said, "Talk to me, John, ask
me anything you want," and taking my hand gave it a squeeze. Gina returned and
knelt on the other side of me and began to apply some lotion to my legs.

"I was asking Gina about her calling you 'mistress'," I said, "What is that
all about?" Joan looked up at Gina and then back at me and said, "Shortly
after Peter and I got married, we hired Gina to be a housekeeper. Everything
was fine for a time, but then Peter began to make advances towards Gina." She
stopped and again glanced at Gina who was now applying lotion to the small of
my back.

"Gina came to me and told me," she said, "But what Peter didn't know was that
Gina and I were having an affair." "Wait, what," I interrupted, "You're gay?"
"Ah, no," she said and chuckled, "I guess you could consider me bisexual,
anyway, I wasn't working and I had a lot of free time so I started exercising;
palates, Zumba, cardio, swimming, jogging, and a lot of free weights, I was
doing it all and I loved it." "I can tell," I said, "It shows."

She smiled and said, "That's when I found out who I really was and what I
needed to do." "Become a fitness instructor?" I asked. She laughed. "No, I'm a
dominatrix, John," she said, "Not some leather-clad bitch who hides in the
shadows, although on occasion I do wear leather. I provide a service for men
and women here in Las Vegas, or that come to 'Sin City', that desire to be
disciplined, controlled or simply humiliated. Do you understand?"

"I think so," I said, not quite sure whether I understood or not. "But what
about Peter, is that why you divorced?" Joan was silent a moment and then
said, "I guess you could say that. He couldn't accept that I had moved on and
I wasn't the sweet little housewife that he had married or willing to sit at
home and wait for him to come home from the office. He couldn't accept that
Gina preferred me over him." She laughed, "And he couldn't accept that some of
the clients he represented were using my services as well."

I looked at my sister lying there. She had rolled onto her stomach and Gina
was now putting lotion on her legs, rubbing it deep into her skin. She did it
lovingly and I understood.

"So you didn't have a prenuptial agreement before you married Peter," I asked.
"What, you mean this," she said motioning to the backyard, "We did have a
prenuptial agreement, I just bought him out. You see, being a dominatrix is a
lucrative business. My clients are well-to-do entertainers, business men and
women and even some politicians. I do alright for myself." "I can see that,
you do more than alright, I would say," I said. Gina was massaging oil into
Joan's broad back and shoulders.

"In a way, I owe it to you, John," Joan said as Gina finished and padded away.
"What do you mean?" I asked. "You were open with me as a kid growing up," she
said, "We were close and shared everything, that when I grew up, I knew what
to expect, what men and women wanted but were to shy or embarrassed to ask, so
thank you." I didn't quite know what to say, so I was surprised when my sister
said, "Would you like for me to show you what I do?" 'Hell, yes,' I thought,
but said, "Sure."

Joan led me into the house and down a hallway. "I don't entertain clients here
at home," she said over her shoulder, "but I use this room for Gina and me."
We stepped into a large bedroom. The room was dominated by a king size
four-poster bed. "Lay down, John," my sister said. I did and she went to a
dresser and returned with four neckties and fastened my wrists and ankles to
each of the posts.

Joan went to the foot of the bed and crept forward on her hands and knees
until she was between my legs. I could feel the stirring of an erection. She
knelt and put her hands behind her neck, her firm breasts erect and her
nipples hard. "Hmm," she purred, "I love to stretch and flex my muscles. Do
you like my muscles, John, would you like to see what I can do with my
muscles?" "Y-yes," I replied. She batted my cock with the palm of her hand and
said, "Call me Mistress Joan, John, or I'll have to punish you." "Yes,
mistress," I said quickly. She smiled and said, "That's better, John."

She flexed her trapezius and I was surprised at their size and then brought
her arms up and flexed her biceps. "I've known since we were teens," she said,
"that you liked women with muscles. What do you think of these babies? They're
only fifteen inches, but I'm working on them." 'How did she know that I
fanaticized about muscle women,' I wondered, 'maybe I told her when we were at
home.' I could hardly believe the size of my sister's arms. "They're big, ah,
mistress," I said, almost calling her Joan.

She laughed and stood up on the bed, straddling my hips. She ran a hand along
her abs and lightly touched her pussy. "I just love my muscles," she said, "I
love to work them, watch them and most of all, run my hands over them." She
cupped her breasts and although not large, they were as firm as the rest of
her. She pinched her nipples, and then bent forward over me and reached behind
her and squeezed her butt. "Would you like to run your hands over my muscles,
John?" she asked. "Yes, mistress," I said softly and quickly. She smiled that
brilliant smile and said softly, "I bet you would."

She stood up straight and with her index finger, teased her clit. "See, John,
even my clit is muscular," she said. I watched as she lifted her clit head. I
would guess it to be two-inches and as thick as my thumb. "Hmm, this feels so
good, it's like a man's hard on, like your hard on," she said, and then
inserted her index finger into her vagina. Fully erect, I needed to come.

As if reading my mind, Joan said, "By now, John, many of my clients have
climaxed or had an orgasm, but I can see that I have to help you, baby." She
lowered herself onto her knees, either side of my hips, her labia only inches
from the head of my penis. She bent forward leaning on her elbows which were
either side of my head and kissed me. I struggled against my bonds wanting
desperately to hold her, but the ties held fast.

We parted lips and she slid her tongue into my mouth. There was no trying to
break our kiss, she was just too strong. I felt her labia and clit brush the
tip of my penis and I exploded. "Ahh," I sighed as my body shuddered. Joan
broke the kiss and I thankfully sucked in a lung full of air.

"That's better, baby," Joan said repositioning herself so that her knees were
now either side of my head. "Now you're going to lick that cum from my pussy
and I want you to make me come, do you understand?" Before I could answer, she
lowered herself onto my face, smothering me with her labia and pussy. My cries
were muffled as I lapped her as best I could.

Now it was her turn to explode and explode she did sending a torrent of cum
cascading into my eyes and mouth. She giggled as she once more ground her
pussy into my mouth. "Hmm," she sighed, "I needed that."

She got off the bed and looked down at me, her gaze traveling to my penis.
"Are you ready to go again?" she asked. I thought she was going to climb back
on the bed, but she looked toward the doorway and I followed her gaze. Gina
walked slowly into the room and climbed on the bed. Taking my shaft in one
hand, she massaged my scrotum with the other. Joan stood there watching as
Gina got me erect and then guided me inside her.

"Gina is very good at what she does, John," Joan said, "I think you can
appreciate that, can't you?" My mind was a blur and my cock seemed to have a
mind of its own. "Y-yes, mistress," I said.

Slowly Gina undulated her hips, rising and lowered herself on my shaft. Within
minutes I climaxed again, but Gina wasn't finished. She continued to rock her
hips, increasing the tempo until she finally reached an orgasm. She collapsed
on top of me. Joan gave each of us a kiss and said, "Good, John, very good." I
smiled, but was exhausted.

I had strange dreams of Joan and I as teens, exploring each other's bodies,
that part was true, but then I felt as if she were putting my cock in a vise.
Then my mind flashed to Gina and her small body and of her rubbing oil on my
cock. "There, there, baby, doesn't that feel better?" she said. 'Dreams are
funny', I thought.

I don't know how long I was asleep, but when I woke, it was already morning.
Either Joan or Gina had untied my wrists and ankles. I rolled over and sat on
the edge of the bed and ran my hands through my hair. 'What a night,' I
thought, and then I noticed, my pubic hair was gone. 'What the hell,' I
thought, 'Gina shaved or waxed me while I was asleep.' I padded to the
bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror as I peed. She had shaved be from
my navel to the top of my thighs. 'Unbelievable,' I thought.

I found the kitchen; Gina had her back to me as I entered. "Are you hungry?"
Gina asked over her shoulder. She was frying eggs and there was a plate of
bacon on the counter. "Starved," I replied and she laughed, "but when did you
shave my cock?" "Last night," she said, "after you had passed out. Now sit and
eat your eggs." She put bacon and toast on the plate and brought the eggs to
the table. I wanted to complain about Gina having waxed my genitals, but I was
so hungry, that I didn't stop until my plate was clean.

"Someone has an appetite," Joan said stepping into the kitchen. Joan was
holding a jacket and had on a pair of low-rise black Spandex leggings, a black
leather bra and four-inch stilettos. Looking at my face she smiled and said,
"I have to meet a client at the airport, a corporate executive. He wants to
meet before his board meeting." I chuckled and she said, "It's just business,
not pleasure like yesterday. What do you think about being hairless?" I looked
from my sister to Gina and back. "It will take some getting used to." She
nodded and said, "Well, maybe I can help with that when I get back." Joan put
on the black blazer she was holding and left.

"Would you like more eggs and bacon, John?" Gina asked. "No thanks," I said,
"I think I'll go out by the pool." Gina smiled and said, "Oh, you had a call
from Emily, I almost forgot." "What, when," I asked. I had forgotten to call
Emily yesterday when I got in. I had said I would, but seeing Joan and Gina,
it had entirely slipped my mind. Gina handed me a slip of paper. "I wrote it
down," Gina said, "Flight 609, arriving at ten o'clock." "She's coming here?"
I asked, "Today?" "Yes," Gina said, "who's Emily?" "My fiancée," I said. Gina
looked at me for a minute and then burst out laughing. She got herself under
control and then asked, "Does Mistress Joan know?" "No," I said, "I forgot to
mention that she wanted to meet my family." Gina laughed again.

I waited until Gina stopped laughing and then asked, "What should I do?" "Pick
her up at the airport," Gina said, "I can't wait to meet Emily." She
emphasized Emily's name, and I just knew this would be the end of any
relationship I had with her. I looked at the clock on the wall; it was already
half past eight.

I dressed quickly, throwing on shorts and a T-shirt, and then getting a set of
keys for a Range Rover that Joan had, headed to the airport.

I parked and ran to the terminal. I checked the arrival kiosk and saw that the
flight from New York was on time and would be landing in five minutes. I
sprinted for the arrival gate and waited. 'There she is,' I thought as Emily
came through the doorway. I waved and she saw me and waved back. We kissed,
'not as deep as Joan and I,' I thought, but sweetly. "I need to get my bag,"
Emily said, "I can't wait to meet your sister." 'I can't wait for you to meet
her either,' I thought, my mind racing.

We got to the baggage carousel and I was about to tell her how much I missed
her when Joan said, "John, what are you doing here?" Emily and I turned and
there stood Joan, close enough to Emily that she had to crane her neck to look
up at her. I swallowed hard. "Ah, well," I stammered, "Emily, this is my
sister Joan; Joan, this is Emily, my fiancée." "Your fiancée?" Joan asked,
"John didn't tell me he had a fiancée, it's nice to meet you," and the two
women shook hands. "Oh," Emily said, "I think I see my bag," and jogged to the
baggage carousel. I didn't know whether I should try to explain to my sister
about not telling her about Emily or apologize.

"Joan, Joan," a man called from ten yards away. He stopped and stared as did
I. Lloyd Smith. "Hello, Lloyd," Joan said, clearly confused. "Mr. Smith," I
said, extending my hand, "How are you." "You know Lloyd?" Joan asked looking
from me to Lloyd. "Yes," I said, "Lloyd is my new boss in New York."

"Uncle Lloyd?" Emily said wheeling her suitcase behind her, "what are you
doing here?" The blood drained from Lloyd's face. "Emily, what a surprise," he
said and embraced his niece giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Uncle,
this is my fiancé, John and his sister, Joan," Emily said. Lloyd shook hands
with me and then asked Joan, "Your brother is my niece's fiancé?" Joan
shrugged, "I only just now found out myself, and you're John's new boss?" He
smiled, "I am."

"I think we need to sit down and talk for a minute," Joan said, "Let's go to
my place," and started for the exit. Emily was walking with her uncle, the two
pulling their luggage. I looked at Joan and said softly, "I thought you never
took clients to the house." "I'm making an exception here," she said, "It
seems as if we're all family, or soon to be," and we both laughed.

If you enjoyed 'Family Ties', please let me know at cover.1@hotmail.com

Thank you,

Muscle Fan