Writer’s Revenge (m/f)

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DuckStewStories
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Writer’s Revenge (m/f)

Post by DuckStewStories »

Stewart bobbed his head, along with the music blasting through his headphones as he waited at the bus station for Josie. One of his classmates had let him borrow a new CD: Daft Punk’s Discovery. Not having to listen to Josie’s thoughts on his choice of music was the primary benefit of headphones.

He’d once made Josie a mixtape filled with various songs off her beaten musical paths. It hadn’t gone over well. Although, he was pretty sure she’d kept it. He could hear it occasionally playing after their parents laid into her, and he’d been unable to intervene in time.

The sky blue bus blended in with the horizon as it crested the hill. Not the usual canary yellow of the public school system. The catholic school their parents had enrolled her into after discovering she was gay, painted their buses blue as the lord’s sky. Or something like that. Stewart couldn’t remember, nor did he care.

Unfortunately, their parent’s plan had backfired magnificently. Seeing her classmates in their school uniforms only reaffirmed Josie’s attraction to other girls. She hated wearing hers, but it was worth seeing the other girls in theirs.

Stewart pulled off his headphones as the bus paused before him and the doors hissed open. Josie rushed to the front of the bus and down the steps. She’d removed her black blazer and stuffed it into her backpack on the way home, finding it stifling.

Her tie and skirt were matching green, paired with a white button-up, black tights, and her black Mary Janes. She’d loosened her tie and undone the top button of her collar, receiving various looks from the other girls on the bus. Some appeared intrigued, others annoyed at her disobedience, while even one smiled at her. Josie noticed she’d tied hers around her neck like in the 80’s movies Stewart loved to watch.

He could always tell what kind of day she’d had by how she reacted upon seeing him. On good days she hugged him, and on bad, she simply grunted at him and began heading towards the house. They lived about a half mile from the bus stop, and he’d let her borrow his headphones on those days—the sister had confiscated hers on day one.

“I hate math,” she muttered.

Stewart saw her mouth grumbling further, but the bus pulling away drowned it out. He began to remove his headphones, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“I want my music.”

“Ouch.”

“Math is stupid….” Josie said, turning and heading down the sidewalk towards their house. “When am I ever going to use math?”

“Algebra II.”

Josie shrieked. “You’re not helping!”

“Fine. How do you think all that cool NASA shit happens? Math.”

“I’m totally fine just looking at the pictures and not doing any math.”

“You want me to tutor you? I’m actually pretty okay at math.”

“Still don’t get that….”

Josie could never understand Stewart’s affinity for math. She assumed he’d be best at English, but it was actually one of his worst subjects. He blamed it on the essays. The books he enjoyed, although he wasn’t great at the reports. He’d often discover different messages than the ones he was supposed to receive.

Josie hated English class as well. She had a hard enough time reading fiction due to her lack of ability to picture the images in her head, but having to analyze it further became pure torture.

Stewart often read to her books she thought sounded fun. He’d race around his room, grabbing various items as props and regaling her in odd voices. It didn’t help her picture anything, but she loved his energetic performances and found them completely enthralling. Often she’d pick stories of swashbuckling pirates just to watch him swing his pens around like rapiers. Adventures of Robin Hood was a personal favorite performance of hers.

Josie glanced over and noticed he’d worn his Clockwork Orange shirt, a book he’d refused to read her. He’d also forbidden her from watching the movie but had promised to show her a scene from it someday. Usually, when he forbade her from doing things, she immediately did them, but with movies, she’d realized he wasn’t joking after attempting to watch Reservoir Dogs.

“When are you going to show me that scene?” Josie asked, not wishing to talk about math any further. An entire day at school was enough. However, she enjoyed the girl smiling at her on the bus. It’d kept the day from being a complete disaster.

“Huh?” Stewart said, coming down from his thoughts and looking down at her. He spotted her gaze and followed it to his shirt, silhouettes of Alex and his droogs wandering before an orange shaped like a cog.

Luckily his parents had never bothered to watch the movie. Stewart had learned to play the game well enough to gain their trust. It also helped that they were oblivious to almost everything, especially their children, and never bothered to seek any knowledge past what the church provided.
One of Stewart’s favorite manipulation tactics involved reading and annotating his bible. Josie had learned to draw doodling in hers when she was supposed to be reading. Stewart, however, had read it cover to cover and scribbled his thoughts wherever he felt appropriate. Luckily his parents never bothered reading what he’d written.

Josie’s personal favorite came at the end of The Book of Job: That’s a dick move. Everyone sucks here.

“Oh.” He’d forgotten he’d tossed it on that morning and frowned slightly, obviously not wishing to discuss it. “When you grow up.”

“Grrrrr…”

After renting it from the video store, he'd loved the movie and immediately sought out the book, a novella by Anthony Burgess. The film followed it almost beat for beat until the end when Alex grew up. Not just in age but also in maturity. He’d left behind the childish ultra-violence of his younger days.

It made Stewart wonder what sort of childish things he’d outgrow. He looked down at Josie, lost in her own world, and wondered if they’d someday outgrow each other. He glanced at their house; both vehicles were gone, probably to some bible group. Alone again for the night.

He supposed he should enjoy their time together before he outgrew it, like Wendy having to leave the nursery in Peter Pan. And he owed his sister some payback.

***

On school nights, Josie often left her uniform on because it was the closest to wearing what she’d like without her parents bothering her. When she was younger, her parents had thought she’d dressed cute. But as she’d grown older, they’d tried to force her to dress like children her own age.

Because children her age often wore crop tops and short shorts—things often demonized at mass—she couldn’t understand their problem with her outfit choices. Beyond the fact that they were, indeed, her choices.

Stewart told her that if she wanted to be left alone, she should dress like the other girls. Before she knew it, her parents would demand that she dress how she liked. That thought process had only given her a headache.

“You just want some Spaghetti-O’s tonight?” Stewart asked once they were inside.

Josie never enjoyed Spaghetti-O’s, but it was easy for Stewart to make so he could get on with his evening. She often told him he didn’t have to walk her home from the bus stop, but he insisted. He never complained, and seeing him before her parents, was nice.

“Can we order Chinese?” Josie asked, smirking hopefully.

“I’ve only got a few bucks left until Sunday,” Stewart replied. “But I am getting better at my sleight of hand.”

He waved his palm with his fingers bent awkwardly as if over a magic hat. However, instead of a hat, he imagined the collection basket. At first, he’d merely attempted to keep the money, but their parents had noticed.

Recently, he’d learned they only looked for cash to drop into the basket and never paid attention to the denomination. He’d wander into mass with a wad of dollar bills as if rolling into a strip club. 5’s and 10’s were quickly replaced by 1’s. The lord looked fondly on those who helped themselves, he reasoned.

And he always shared with Josie, usually buying them food when their parents ventured in search of spiritual guidance over their heathen children.

“Mac & Cheese?” Josie bargained.

Stewart stared at her, an almost bored expression on his face. “One of these days…” he said, turning to check if they had the required ingredients.

“Love you, Stewart,” Josie said, rushing to her room, his grumbles trailing her down the hallway.

Stewart glanced after her to ensure she’d gone before allowing a grin to break his hard exterior. Mac & cheese was almost as easy as Spaghetti-O’s—and he vastly preferred it—but he needed her to feel like she’d had a win today after dealing with math class.

Reaching down to grab the pot, the orange of his shirt caught his eye. His grin widened into a full smile.

“I think it’s time I had some revenge,” he said. “Stewart the…”

He paused, unsure of the proper term. He glanced towards the hallway, debating on venturing to his room to grab his thesaurus.

‘The Avenger?’ he thought, but that made him think of the comic team. And he was planning to avenge himself, which constituted revenge.

“The revenger?” he muttered. He doubted that was even a real word. It sounded ridiculous, but since he’d said it out loud, it’d become stuck, like a song that refused to leave, so you kept humming it, hoping it’d go away.

“Stewart the Revenger…” he muttered again, but it remained. “Fuck.”

***

No parents meant Josie could play her music without headphones. Her latest record obsession was Is This It by The Strokes. Stewart had spent the entire ride to the record store questioning why she couldn’t just buy a CD from Walmart.

Although she loved her walkman and being able to take her music with her on the go, it never sounded as clear or crisp as her records. She’d attempted to explain the difference to Stewart by comparing novels to their movie adaptations. No matter how close they got, something was always missing.

He didn’t understand. For being so bright, her brother could be incredibly dumb.

She picked up the blue and yellow album and slid the record from its protective sleeve, brushing it gently with her fingers. She turned on her record player and set the vinyl down on the turntable, lifting the needle and watching it spin as she gently lowered it onto the edge. The album seemed to inhale for a second before the music began and petered out. And then the actual song began.

She headed for her bed, gazing over the various pictures of girl bands plastered over her pink walls. She’d asked for green, but her parents had insisted on pink. After all, she was a girl, and girls lived in pink rooms.

But, of course, the overabundance of pink couldn’t possibly have anything to do with her liking other girls. That was clearly the work of the devil. Never lucifer, always the devil.

She hopped onto her bed, laying on her stomach facing the record player and holding her pillow curled under her chest. She rested her chin on the pillow to ensure both ears could hear unobstructed as she slowly kicked her feet behind her in time with the music.

No parents, sloppy joes, and good music. Perhaps the night would balance out the day.

***

Stewart gazed over the various supplies at his disposal, trying to decide which he’d use. He’d ventured to the store after school a few days earlier, ensuring he’d made it home in time to walk Josie home. She’d grown irritated when he couldn’t stop chuckling, walking along with her and plotting his revenge.

She hadn’t bothered him that night. And, as much as he’d expected to enjoy it, he longed for her annoying company. And he’d begun to write a new set of ideas into the tiny notebook he always kept in his pocket.

Usually, it held various story ideas that popped into his head at inopportune moments. But lately, he’d begun scribbling down something new: Damsel Peril.

Stewart opened his notebook and flipped to a random page, reading the scheme he’d written.

“What the fuck…?” he muttered.

***

Josie’s album had almost reached the end of side A, but she was comfy and didn’t want to get up to flip it. She debated about screaming for Stewart to do it and giggled at the thought. He’d likely do it just so the first time he’d told her no wouldn’t be over something so trivial.

***

Stewart crept towards Josie’s room, carrying the supplies required for his revenge: all the rope he’d purchased—wrapped around his torso like a B-movie action hero—and a bandanna. He’d picked blue, his favorite color, for his revenge.

Rolling the bandanna, he pulled it tight, feeling like a true villain as he saw Josie lying on her bed, slowly kicking her feet, waiting for dinner. He needed to move quickly and gag her first. Not because she’d scream, he didn’t want to listen to her critiquing his choices.

Unfortunately, he’d never listened to the album with her as she’d asked. Otherwise, he’d know side A was about to end just as he took his running start and leaped into the air like a tiger pouncing on its prey.

In the three seconds Stewart was airborne, three things happened:

He realized he weighed at least 50 pounds more than his sister, and if he belly-flopped on top of her with his total weight, he was liable to do some damage.

Josie turned to discover the noise she’d just heard was Stewart launching himself like a human cannonball.

Stewart twisted his body with a grace he never expected possible while reaching terminal velocity and crashing towards his sister’s bed.

He collided with the bed, and Josie launched into the air out of his sight before crashing down and staring flabbergasted at him.

“Um…” she said, wondering about his shocked expression. Her brother was odd, but he’d never informed her dinner was ready like this. Maybe she should’ve let him make—

She spotted the bandanna held tight in his hands.

“No,” she said, rolling away from him off the bed.

Stewart glanced down and remembered the bandanna. He whipped it over her head and caught her in the mouth, pulling her back.

“Hmm!” Josie protested as he knotted it tight behind her head. She reached up to try and pull it free, but Stewart grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back, crossing them.

Usually, he wouldn’t be able to hold her one-handed, but Josie was curious about what he had planned. She pretended to struggle as he began to wrap the rope around her wrists, tightening it until he no longer needed to hold her. Her struggles became real as he sat her up and began crossing the rope over her chest.

“Whm ym dmng?”

“Shush,” he said, focusing on his rope work.

Josie felt the ropes constricting around her chest like a coarse snake. The tape had been exhilarating, but the rope felt truly magnificent, binding her. Unlike the tape, which attempted to conform to her body, the rope held rigidly and demanded her body adjust to it. She counted each time he wrapped it around her chest, over her shoulders, and through her armpits. After the third, he tightened it further behind her back, pulling her shoulders back and causing her to have perfect posture. Unlike last time, when she had the slightest wiggle room, her arms were pinned to her side, and she could not slouch.

“Yrm lmkm mn cmt kmk ym…” she said, kicking her legs to emphasize.

Stewart watched her Mary Janes kicking around and wondered if she was halfheartedly attempting to fight him off or emphasizing that he hadn’t tied her legs yet. It didn’t matter either way. He pushed her, and she stood up and smirked at him from behind the bandanna.

He knew exactly what was coming but allowed her to take a couple of steps before launching off the bed and tackling her to the floor. She kicked her Mary Janes wildly as he folded the rope and fed the ends through the middle, pulling it tight. She continued kicking, but as he wrapped the rope around and through her ankles, she realized struggling was futile. Yet enthralling.

Stewart shoved her legs down, and she continued to kick her Mary Janes as he grabbed the ropes around her shoulder and pulled her onto her back. It hadn’t seemed like he’d brought that much rope, but apparently, he had a neverending supply. And he’d taken her Boy Scout knot-tying jokes to heart as he again expertly fed the ends through the fold and cinched it tight above her knees.

Josie wondered how often he’d practiced the knot he deftly wrapped and fed through her thighs. She felt the coarse rope sinking its teeth into her tights, holding her legs within its vice-like grip. He finished securing the rope and tugged at it, lifting her bottom half off the ground as her Mary Janes kicked wildly.

He dropped her legs and stood to admire his handiwork. Josie did her best to struggle playfully but quickly realized there wasn’t any give in his rope work. She was completely stuck.

“Well then. I guess I’ll make us some Mac & Cheese,” Stewart said, turning and leaving his sister to struggle on the floor of her room.

***

Although Josie could barely move, it didn’t stop her from struggling and mmphing wildly on the floor. The ropes held her upper half snug, and her legs could only flail in the air. Stewart had secured her tight, and she knew trying to escape on her own would be futile. She needed to move.

First, she attempted to pull her knees under her to inch like a worm but only succeeded in pressing her face into the hardwood floor. She rubbed the bandanna against the ground, figuring if she could get the gag out of her mouth, she could at least annoy Stewart, but he’d tied it far too tight. Her lips were pulled back so far she could barely close them. She chewed angrily on the bandanna, attempting to formulate another plan.

Struggling further, she only managed to roll onto her back, letting out a huff as she stared up towards her hideous pink walls. Her brain veered between annoyed and impressed with Stewart’s audacity to tie and gag her unprompted. She shifted her hips and shoulders, rolling up onto her side. If she wanted to move, she’d have to log roll.

Josie flopped onto her front once more, taking a moment to check for the door. Stewart would love to find her rolling in the wrong direction.

“STMMMMRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!” she screamed into the bandanna.

He called back, but she couldn’t make it out—probably threatening her if he had to come back there. Something their parents often did whenever they had too much fun joking around in the back seat.

Flexing and flopping, Josie slowly managed to roll to the door. Breathing heavily through her gag, she was grateful Stewart hadn’t used the tape again. She doubted she’d have managed only able to breathe from her nose.

“Grrrrrrr…” she growled into her gag, realizing she’d have to lift her legs somehow to squeeze through the door. She briefly pondered how her parents would react if she asked them to widen her door frame by about four feet. Or at least the base of it.

Josie struggled and flexed, managing to get onto her back with her right shoulder against the door frame. She pulled her knees up towards her chest before raising her Mary Janes into the air, attempting to pendulum swing her legs wide enough to catch them inside the door frame. She constricted her muscles and flexed her feet, managing to swing through the doorway, her body swinging along with her legs into the hallway.
Stewart caught her legs before her Mary Janes struck the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said, pushing her legs back and tilting her towards her back so she’d face him.

“Mn gmn gmt ym….”

“Is it wrong that I’m beginning to understand you?”

“Ym.”

“More wrong than how much you’re enjoying this?”

“Yrm mnjmng mnt.”

“Of course I am. Speaking of which, I was going to come get you for dinner, but maybe it’ll be nice to eat in peace.”

“Grrrrrr….”

“Yeah. Gotta do something about that gag too. Thanks for reminding me.”

Stewart pulled her legs back as he stepped over her, swiftly yanking them back into her room. He turned around and gripped her ankles with both hands, dragging her back into the room like she was a rope in a game of tug of war.

“STMRT!!!”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head like a mechanic discovering an engine issue. “Definitely the gag first.”

***

Stewart had planned to stuff another bandanna into Josie’s mouth before taping it, but she tried to bite him every time he reached towards her mouth to remove the gag. He’d paused for a moment, debating if her appetite for his fingers stemmed from hunger, until she began screaming insults. He shrugged, tore off a long strip of tape, and plastered it over her lips, ensuring to smooth it down as she struggled beneath him.

And since he couldn’t trust her to stay in her room where he’d left her, Stewart decided to hogtie her. She kicked her Mary Janes at him as he fed another length of rope between her ankles, knotting it to the previous rope. He pushed her legs forward and laid his chest into them, holding them tight against her bottom under his bodyweight.

He reached down and fed the rope through the tangled mess he’d secured on her back, briefly wondering if his lefty scissors could cut through it once he decided to let her go. Luckily, when it came to Josie, their parents viewed her as out of sight and out of mind. He didn’t even have to let her go before they got home.

“Hm,” he said after he finished his knot.

“Whm?” Josie asked, genuinely curious.

“I guess I used a bit more rope than I needed,” he said, moving to her side and staring puzzled at the excess rope. He’d thought only short lengths had remained, but he’d found a phantom long one.

Josie giggled at his confusion as she flexed her legs, testing the hogtie. Her legs refused to budge, and the ropes binding her chest sank their coarse teeth in further.

“Grrrr…”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.”

“Hm bmt ym lm mn gm?”

“Bad idea,” he said in his fake Ah-nuld accent.

She could never understand his obsession with his movies, but he often quoted them—complete with an attempt at the accent. However, every time he watched Commando, he knew to get her, at least for the beginning.

Stewart began whistling as he braided the excess rope along the middle of the hogtie, slowly coiling it down like a spring, ready to release its grip on Josie’s legs.

“That’s better,” he said, pulling on the rope and releasing it. “Bwoingoingoingoingoing….” he cartoonishly said, laughing at his lame joke.

“Mn hmgrm,” she said, rolling onto her side to look up at him.

“Oh yeah, dinner.”

“Mm hm…” she muttered into her gag, nodding.

“Here,” he said, reaching down and grabbing the hogtie rope, using it to pull her back onto her belly. “You’ll probably have more fun struggling like that.”

“Stmrt!”

“Oh shush, I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared down the hall, and Josie angrily struggled on the floor of her room. She wasn’t actually that hungry—although her stomach was presently the only portion of her body not bound tight—and made a mental note to fight harder against her brother next time. She loved struggling against the ropes, feeling the coarse texture worm its teeth through her shirt and tights, but had also enjoyed Stewart grabbing and binding her against her will.

Again, the fantasy of her purple-haired babysitter crept into her head. Perhaps she’d even let Josie tie her up, like a mother lion pretending to be startled by its cub. She smiled into her gag until her muscles relaxed, and she felt the rope's teeth sink into her ankles through her tights.

“MMPH!”

She began to struggle and mmph, breathing heavily through her nose. The floor was hard, and she wished he’d tied her on her bed until she tipped onto her side. Glancing up towards her bed, she realized the couple foot fall would not be pleasant.

“STMRT!!!”

“What?” he said, stepping over her and heading for her record player. “I guess I should start it from the beginning shouldn’t I?

“Mf crms,” Josie replied.

“Fine,” he said, lifting the needle and returning it to the record’s beginning. He stepped back over his sister and sat down on her bed—a single bowl of mac & cheese in his hands—as music filled the room

“Whm mn?”

“Yours?”

“Ym!”

“Hm,” he said, scooping a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “You know, revenge is almost as good as this mac & cheese.”

No, he thought. He’d never outgrow this.

“STMMMMMRRRRRRTTTTT!!!”
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some_wanderer
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Post by some_wanderer »

Another great story from you.

This makes me happy.
If your story has a little sister tied up by their brother,

I'll be there with comment and rating 👍
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Canuck100
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Post by Canuck100 »

Beautifully written story ! Really enjoying it
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Post by DuckStewStories »

some_wanderer wrote: 1 year ago Another great story from you.

This makes me happy.
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it!
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Post by DuckStewStories »

Canuck100 wrote: 1 year ago Beautifully written story ! Really enjoying it
Thank you! We’ve been having fun reminiscing.
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slackywacky
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Post by slackywacky »

Good read, very well done. Thank you for posting.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt

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DuckStewStories
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Post by DuckStewStories »

slackywacky wrote: 1 year ago Good read, very well done. Thank you for posting.
Thank you! Glad you liked it!
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