Ainsley's Degrading Summer by Karina Kandy
- Kink Reads
- Jun 11
- 10 min read
Get this full story in the shop or by becoming a premium member, and accessing hundreds more stories!
Ainsley has plans to spend the summer lounging at home, and making a little extra cash selling some sex tapes from college online. What she doesn't expect is to get caught on her very first day by her brother, Devon. Devon, as any good and caring brother would, immediately sees the opportunity to turn his sister into his summer-long sex slave.
The Flash Drive
Ainsley pushed through the front door, dropping her overnight bag with a thud on the hardwood floor. The house was empty, silent. Perfect. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and felt the familiar tingle between her legs at the thought of what she was about to do. The flash drive in her pocket felt hot against her thigh, loaded with content that would make her stuck-up family disown her if they ever found out. But they wouldn’t. They never checked the browser history on the living room computer.
“Fucking finally,” she muttered to herself, kicking off her shoes.
Her nipples tightened under her thin tank top as she strode confidently through the house. Just thinking about her videos made her body react, a flush creeping up her chest. The last one she’d filmed had earned her three hundred dollars in two days. Some desperate loser had paid extra for her to say his name while she fucked herself with her roommate’s hairbrush handle.
Ainsley snickered. Men were so fucking pathetic, so easy to manipulate. Like her brother Devon. Twenty-three and still living at home, playing video games and working part-time at some shitty electronics store. She pictured him jerking off alone in his bedroom to porn he was too cheap to pay for, while she was making bank showing off her tight college body.
The family computer hummed to life when she pressed the power button. She drummed her freshly manicured nails on the desk, impatient. Her pussy was already getting wet just thinking about watching herself, seeing her performances through the eyes of her paying fans. Something about being in her childhood home made it feel dirtier, more dangerous.
“Come on, you piece of shit,” she hissed at the slow-loading computer.
Finally, the desktop appeared. Ainsley glanced over her shoulder, double-checking that she was alone before plugging in her flash drive. Her heart pounded as she clicked through folders until she found what she wanted. The thumbnail showed her on her knees, mouth open, fingers wrapped around a thick dildo.
Ainsley’s breath quickened as she opened the video. The sound was off, but she didn’t need audio to remember what she was saying in the clip. How she’d begged for cum, how she’d called herself a dirty slut who needed to be filled. Her cunt clenched at the memory, a slick warmth growing between her thighs.
She leaned closer to the screen, captivated by her own performance. Her free hand unconsciously slid up to brush over her hardened nipple through her tank top. Such easy money. So much easier than the bullshit waitressing job her parents thought she had. Her roommate had gotten her into it—just solo stuff and girl-girl scenes. No dick required.
Behind her, the floorboard creaked.
Ainsley froze, her hand still on her breast, eyes locked on the obscene image of herself with a dildo between her tits. She hadn’t heard the front door. Hadn’t heard footsteps. But she felt it now—someone watching.
She spun around, knocking the mouse off the desk in her panic.
Devon stood there, his phone held up, pointed at the computer screen. His face wore an expression she’d never seen before—cold, calculating, with a thin smile that made her stomach drop.
“What the actual fuck are you doing in my business?” Ainsley snarled, lunging to block the computer screen with her body.
Devon didn’t move, didn‘t flinch. “Been recording for about two minutes now. Got some great footage of you watching yourself be a whore.” His voice was flat, emotionless.
“Delete that right fucking now!” Ainsley’s voice cracked as she reached for his phone.
Devon stepped back easily, avoiding her grab. Without breaking eye contact, he bent down and picked up the flash drive she hadn’t even noticed falling out of the computer in her panic.
“I wonder what Mom would think of her perfect daughter’s side job,” he said, pocketing the drive. “Dad would probably have a stroke.”
Ainsley’s face burned. The room seemed to tilt and sway around her. “I’ll scream. I’ll tell them you tried to touch me. They’ll believe me, not your loser ass.”
Devon laughed—a sound with no humor in it. “Go ahead. I already copied all the files to my phone. Wireless transfer while you were drooling over yourself. By the time you finish screaming, these videos will be sent to everyone you know.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” Ainsley hissed, but the certainty in his eyes made her insides turn to ice.
“You’ve always looked down on me, haven’t you?” Devon said, stepping closer. “Poor pathetic Devon. The family disappointment. Meanwhile, college girl Ainsley is selling her pussy online to strangers.”
“I need the money for school,” she spat, her hands shaking. “Not that you’d understand ambition.”
“Shut your mouth,” Devon said with such quiet force that Ainsley actually did. “I’m going to my room to put this somewhere safe. When I come back, we’re going to discuss the terms of our new arrangement.”
Ainsley found her voice again, desperate and shrill. “I’ll tell Mom! I’ll tell Dad! I’ll tell them you’ve been stalking me!”
Devon was already walking away. “You do that, and every guy who ever jerked off to you online will know your real name, your address, where you go to school. Your professors will get a special compilation. Maybe even Grandma too.”
Ainsley felt the tears coming, hot and humiliating. “You can’t do this.”
Devon paused at the hallway entrance, looking back with that same cold smile. “I already have.”
She heard his bedroom door open and close, the distinct sound of his lock clicking into place. Her legs gave out and she slumped into the computer chair, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. The video of herself was still playing on screen, her recorded body performing for an audience she’d thought she controlled.
When Devon returned minutes later, his posture had changed. He walked taller, moved with purpose. The power shift was palpable in the air between them.
“Here’s how this summer is going to work,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “When we’re alone, you do exactly what I say. Everything I say. Your body belongs to me until you go back to school.”
“You‘re fucking sick,” Ainsley whispered, tears streaming down her face.
“Maybe,” Devon agreed with a shrug. “But I’m not the one getting wet watching myself be a slut for strangers.”
Ainsley’s thighs pressed together involuntarily, horrified that her body was still responding despite her fear and rage.
“You’re my property now,” Devon continued, his voice dropping lower. “My personal cumdump. Or everyone sees what a whore my little sister really is. Your choice.”
The worst part was that Ainsley knew it wasn’t really a choice at all.
***
Devon pushed away from the doorframe and moved toward Ainsley with deliberate steps. She backed up until the edge of the computer desk dug into her ass. He didn’t stop until he was close enough for her to feel his breath on her face, close enough that she could smell his cologne mixing with the clean laundry scent of his t-shirt. Her heart hammered in her chest, anger and fear and something else—something she refused to name—churning in her gut.
“Get the fuck away from me,” Ainsley hissed, but her voice cracked and betrayed her.
Devon’s eyes flickered down to her chest where her nipples still pressed visibly against her thin tank top. “Let me make the rules crystal clear,” he said, his voice low. “When we’re alone, you do whatever I say. No hesitation. No questions.”
“I’m not doing anything, you sick fuck,” Ainsley spat, pressing her palms against the desk behind her for support. Her legs felt weak, unstable.
“Yes, you will.” Devon’s certainty was terrifying. “Because if you don’t, everyone sees those videos. Your friends. Your professors. Those guys who follow you around campus hoping you’ll notice them. Mom and Dad’s church friends.”
Ainsley’s throat tightened. The heat of his body so close to hers sent unwelcome signals between her legs. She hated him. She hated herself more for the way her pussy clenched at the threat in his voice.
“I’ve watched all your videos already,” Devon continued, his eyes never leaving hers. “You act like such a perfect princess around here, but online you’re just a desperate slut begging to be used.”
“I needed money,” she whispered, hot tears burning behind her eyes.
“And now you need my silence.” His hand came up to her face, thumb brushing over her lower lip. Ainsley jerked her head away.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
Devon smiled, that same cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “First rule: I touch whatever I want, whenever I want.”
Her breath came faster now. The room felt too hot, too small. Ainsley could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears. Devon was her brother. Her annoying, pathetic older brother. But now he was something else—something with power over her that made her skin prickle with goosebumps.
“Second rule,” Devon said, stepping back slightly. “When I give an order, you obey immediately.”
Then he snapped his fingers, the sound sharp and commanding in the quiet room.
“Strip. Right here. Right now.”
Ainsley’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“You heard me.” Devon crossed his arms over his chest. “Take everything off. I want to see what all those losers online are paying for.”
“No.” Ainsley shook her head. “No fucking way.”
Devon pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times. “I’m three seconds from sending your face-to-dildo compilation to Dad.”
“Please,” Ainsley whispered, a tear finally spilling over and tracking down her cheek. “Devon, please don’t.”
“Five seconds now.” He held up the phone so she could see the message ready to send, her father’s contact information at the top.
Ainsley’s hands trembled as she reached for the hem of her tank top. Her fingers felt numb, disconnected from her body. This couldn’t be happening. She pulled the top over her head, revealing her black bra underneath.
“Keep going,” Devon ordered. His eyes were dark with something that made Ainsley’s stomach twist.
She unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts felt heavy, exposed. The cool air of the room made her nipples harden even more. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide herself.
“Arms at your sides,” Devon commanded.
Another tear fell as she complied, letting her arms drop to reveal her breasts completely.
“The rest too.”
Ainsley unbuttoned her jeans with shaking fingers, having to try twice because her hands wouldn’t cooperate. She pushed them down her legs, stepping out of them awkwardly. Now she stood in just her black thong, her last piece of dignity.
“Everything,” Devon reminded her, his voice thick.
Her thumbs hooked into the sides of her thong. She closed her eyes, unable to look at him as she slid the fabric down her thighs and stepped out of it.
Completely naked now, Ainsley kept her eyes squeezed shut, arms rigid at her sides, hands clenched into fists. She could feel Devon’s gaze crawling over her skin like insects.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered. “I want you to see this happening.”
She did, blinking through tears to find Devon circling her like she was merchandise he was inspecting. Her skin burned with humiliation.
“Nice tits,” he commented clinically. “Perky. Good size.” His hand shot out suddenly, squeezing one breast roughly. Ainsley gasped, jerking backward, but Devon grabbed her arm with his other hand. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
He continued his circle, standing behind her now. Ainsley stared straight ahead, trying to disconnect from her body, from this moment. But then she felt his hand on her ass, squeezing, kneading.
“Decent ass,” Devon said. “Not as spectacular as you think it is. But it’s got a nice jiggle when it’s slapped.”
His hand came down hard on her left buttcheek. The crack of skin on skin made Ainsley yelp, more in shock than pain.
“Your pussy is your best feature,” he continued, moving to stand in front of her again. “Let‘s see it. Spread your legs.”
“Devon, please,” Ainsley whispered, fresh tears streaming down her face.
“Spread. Your. Legs,” he repeated, each word like a knife.
Trembling, she shifted her stance wider, exposing herself fully. Devon crouched down, his face level with her cunt. She could feel his breath on her most intimate parts. It was wrong. It was disgusting. It was her brother looking at her pussy.
And yet, deep in her core, something tightened. Some primal response to being examined, to being powerless.
“Look at that,” Devon said, his voice dropping an octave. His hand came up between her thighs, one finger sliding between her lips. “You’re fucking soaked.”
Ainsley wanted to die from shame. Her body had betrayed her completely. She couldn’t deny the slickness of her arousal coating his finger.
Devon stood, bringing his wet finger up to her face. “Smell yourself,” he commanded. “Smell how wet your brother made you.”
Ainsley tried to turn her head away, but Devon grabbed her jaw with his other hand, holding her in place.
“This is just the beginning, little cumdump,” he whispered, his face inches from hers. “By the end of summer, you’ll be begging me to let you cum.”
The slam of a car door outside shattered the moment.
“Mom’s home,” Devon said calmly, releasing her jaw.
Panic exploded through Ainsley’s body. “Oh my god,” she gasped, diving for her clothes scattered across the floor. She grabbed her thong first, struggling to get her feet through the holes with her trembling legs.
Devon watched her frantic scramble, making no move to help. “Better hurry,” he taunted. “Mom always comes through the front door.”
Ainsley yanked her jeans up over her hips, not bothering with the button as she grabbed her bra and tank top. The front door handle jiggled.
“You’ve got ten seconds,” Devon said, wiping his wet finger on his jeans with a smirk.
Ainsley pulled her tank top over her head, stuffing her bra into her pocket just as the front door opened. Her hair was a mess, her face tear-streaked, her tank top twisted awkwardly on her body. Her jeans were still unbuttoned.
“Ainsley! You‘re home!” Her mother’s cheerful voice called from the entryway.
Devon winked at her. “Welcome home, sis,” he said loudly enough for their mother to hear. “We were just catching up.”
Comments