just a sad little girl

big brother who brings you into his room with a promise of candy and video games. he sets you up under his desk, keeping you distracted with your ipad and a dog toy he found that feels good to bite. when you get bored, he airdrops random memes until your stomach hurts from giggling. the cycle repeats again, and he manages to keep you occupied for an hour before you get well and truly bored.

“do you want a hit off my j?” he offers, a wicked smirk on his lips. you blink, because you’re too little for that, but if he forgot, or doesn’t know, then you’re certainly not going to tell him. so you nod excitedly, and clumsily pull from the joint. he laughs at you and your cheeks redden with embarrassment. “like this, puppy,” he says with another chuckle as he shows you how to do it properly. this time, you don’t cough, and when it hits your head, something funny happens to your brain. you can feel it buzzing in your skull, and your big brother looks positively delighted.

“good job, pup!” he praises. it’s too much, the excitement and the way he pets your head as hard as he can. but you’re high, and it feels good to be praised, so you lean into his hand. “hit it again. i wanna see, you looked so cool the first time.”

as intended, the compliment goes directly to your head and your back goes straight immediately. pride colors your cheeks as you inhale the smoke, except this time, big brother kisses you when you pull the joint away from your lips, and you’re so stunned you forgot to exhale. by the time he pulls away your head is spinning and air is hard to find, but the high is immaculate and you’re not sure that kiss was real, because now big brother is smoking like nothing happened, and maybe you hallucinate on weed? you wouldn’t know, you’ve not smoked before.

“do you wanna watch a cool video on my phone, pup?” he asks casually, spreading his legs in his gaming chair. “you have to hit this five more times first, okay? that’s how big kids earn phone time.” you nod, head foggy, and climb up into his lap with little prompting, too high to do anything but what you’re told. you lose count after the fourth hit, but you’re pretty sure you hit it more than five times, and you’re also pretty sure big brother is kissing you between hits, and pushing more smoke into your lungs when you’re not smoking, but you’re too high to remember after the smoke clears.

he does end up showing you the video, though.

it’s someone who looks like you, except hidden behind a cute little kitty mask. they’re smiling and waving for the camera, and a big, pretty german shepherd is next to them, wagging his tail and panting happily.

“cute puppy!!” you say excitedly, brain completely devoid of any thought beyond what i see in front of me. i don’t process big brother’s fingers trailing up and down my sides, i just watch the person in the video take off their clothes and sit on the couch by the doggy. they pat their lap and do something with a jar of peanut butter, and then the doggy starts licking between their legs. the person starts to moan and tremble, and you watch with wide, innocent eyes, confused and intrigued.

“they’re playing, see?” he says casually, kissing your temple, then your cheek, then finally your lips. he doesn’t stop this time, so you think it’s probably real, but you can barely feel your arms, so maybe not. who knows. “wanna play?”

you nod, a perfect yes man, and he pushes at your pj pants. his fingers find something that makes you gasp, and he coos softly at you as he plays with it, but he’s also laughing. “you’re so wet and for what?” he mocks, sliding you off his lap and onto the floor. “you don’t even know what that means. and you’re too high to stop me, of course. come on, puppy. let’s play a game.” his hand is still in your pants as you kneel in front of him, squirming and whining, and his free hand grips your chin tightly, keeping you looking up at him as he molests you. “you’re such a good puppy, yeah? my little sib, with such a pretty little cunt that’s so wet just for me.”

“feels funny in my tummy,” you whimper, grinding innocently down on his hand, eyelids drooping from the weed.

“s’okay, pup, chase it,” he encourages, his voice taking on that praising tone that makes your sinuses buzz. “cum f’me, puppy, be a good dog n’cum for your big brother.”

something snaps like a rubber band and you cry out, gripping big brother’s arm as tight as you can, digging in your nails as every part of your body starts to uncontrollably shake. “bubby- bubby-“ your voice cracks and wavers as you fall apart on his fingers, and his hand finally leaves your chin to stroke your hair adoringly.

“good job, puppy! good dog!!” he praises you with soft kisses and gentle nips on your neck and shoulders. you’re still shaking and panting, but you smile widely, exhaustedly. “you’re the best doggy i could ever ask for. do you wanna try the next part of the game?”

and you’re a good dog.

of course you nod.

he shoves his pants down at record speed, spreading his thick thighs to show off his own throbbing cunt. it’s pretty, even though you’re a bit confused, and you scoot closer on wobbly knees.

“play like the doggy in the video, pup,” he orders, his voice slightly nervous. as if this is the worst thing he’s done all day. but you’re still too high to question him, and you stick out your tongue and lap clumsily at him. he gasps and whines, and his hips buck up before he controls himself. except you liked that sound, and you like how he tastes, and you like having something in your mouth, and suddenly your enthusiasm is enough to make up for your utter lack of skill.

your tongue finds every spot that makes him squirm and gasp, and soon his hands find your hair and he’s fucking your mouth desperately, seeking orgasm like it’s divine, and you can barely breathe but the sounds he’s making are doing something special in your chest and it’s all you can think about so you can’t stop even when he’s trembling and begging for mercy.