Rarisis "Forced"


                                            >”Well, I’m only borrowing it until mine’s back in working condition!”

                                            >She flung another one of your shoes through the door and you press yourself against the wall as if you were going to breach the room.

                                            “Yeah, Rarity, that means I’m going to have to put all of this ba-“

                                            >Your clock was flung out and Rarity continued her rampant pillaging.

                                            >”I’m doing you a favor, dear brother, this place is a mess!”

                                            >Then she started to throw out your wardrobe full of jeans and t-shirts.

                                            “It was MY mess Rarity! I don’t go into your room and start throwing your junk around.”

                                            >”It’s not junk, it’s a boutique full of actual clothes!”

                                            >She finishes by throwing out your BAM! Punko vinyl’s out.

                                            >Now was the time to step in.

                                            >After catching and gently setting down the flying figures you walk into your room and see it’s CLEANED out.

                                            “C’mon, Rarity! It’s literally just a bed, desk, and dresser!”

                                            >She turns and scoffs as if she isn’t the invading country.

                                            >”That’s all you will need, darling. You don’t need mounds of stray clothes and stacks of dolls!”

                                            >You raise a finger in retort,

                                            “Hey their not dolls they’re collectables! Besides, don’t you have a bunch of actual life-sized dolls that you literally play dress up with?”

                                            >”Unlike you I’m able to tell the difference between a mannequin and a doll.”

                                            >She moves over to your bed and starts to fix it, folding blankets, and setting pillows.

                                            “Rarity, you play DRESS UP with dolls the size of actual people. My “dolls” have never and will never leave their packaging.”

                                            >She strolls over to the door and snatches a stray figure that didn’t make it out of the room.

                                            >You cringe at the sight of the dented container, a corner crumpled in and splitting the print on the box.

                                            >”I don’t get the appeal, Anon. Why would you buy something,”

                                            >She brings it up to chest level and places a hand on the top of the box.

                                            >A click occurs as you realize what she’s about to do.

                                            “Rarity, don’t you dare-

                                            >She sets her sights on the top and pinches it.

                                            >”If you’re never going to tear it open and enjoy it?”

                                            >She full on rips the top off, discarding it and then yanking out the figurine inside.

                                            >With a dainty step she sets it on your dresser and pats the top of the figure.

                                            >”See? Doesn’t it look so much nicer out of the box?”

                                            >You sigh in defeat at the lost box before turning back to your sister.

                                            >Rubbing the bridge of your nose you address her act of vandalism.

                                            “Rarity, when have I ever tore up any of your dresses?”

                                            >She giggles at you like you’re a child.

                                            >”Oh please, Anon, these two things are nowhere near comparable. I’d even go as far as to say I’d hurt you with how furious I’d be if you did such a thing.”

                                            >You reach for her thin shirt with both hands, snagging a part of the collar and pull the thing apart with a sharp *rip!*

                                            >Rarity let out a small gasp as she looked over the damage.

                                            >She made all of her clothes herself and was an expert with a thread and needle, so you knew she could repair this.

                                            “See? Doesn’t seem so appealing to break someone else’s stuff now does it?”

                                            >She put a hand on her chest and her mouth was agape, then she stomped the floor with her boot and pointed a threatening finger at you.

                                            >”How could you?! You’re lucky I can fix this! If you… If you do that again I’ll…”

                                            >You reach over again and give it another sharp *tear* on a different part of the collar.

                                            >Rarity let out an odd “Enf~” as you did so, but she quickly stared at you with intense anger.

                                            >She shut the door, *clicked* the lock on it, and pulled up her sleeves.

                                            >Or, she tried to, then she realized she didn’t quite have sleeves.

                                            >”Oh you’ve done it now, darling.”

                                            >She shoots her hands for your throat but before you can protect yourself she latches onto YOUR color and begins to pull.

                                            >And pull.

                                            >And yank.

                                            >And even bite.

                                            >To no success.

                                            >You, meanwhile, reach under and snatch the bottom of her shirt and *tear* upwards.

                                            >She freezes in horror as the loud *shrrp* processes in her brain.

                                            >The two of you look down and see you’ve ripped too far up and caused her shirt to…Split.

                                            >Rarity steps back as she clutches the invisible guts you’ve torn out.

                                            >”What have you done?!”

                                            >The shirt dangles open, revealing her bra-less chest.

                                            >She continues to step back like a villain in the final act, stumbling backwards until they fall over a cliff.

                                            >Then she falls over, onto your bed, and you rush to see if she’s fainted.

                                            >Although she hasn’t, your brain forms a dastardly idea.

                                            >A heretical idea.

                                            >Rarity’s eyes turn pin-prick as she watches the sly smile appear on your face.

                                            >She begins to look around for some kind of escape and raises her hands to push you away.

                                            >”Haha, now darling, I’m sure we can talk about this-“

                                            >You leap onto the bed and hover over her on all fours, she pushes your chest softly but just enough to keep you away.

                                            “Yeah, sure, talking. How about a little listening? Like when I tell you not to throw everything out of my room or tear open my stuff?”

                                            >One hand reaches down and begins to unbutton your jeans and yank down your zipper,

                                            >”I’m sure we can work something out! Just don’t do this! I’ll forget this ever happened and I’ll even take your place on the couch until my room is fixed!”

                                            >She laughed nervously before looking down and seeing your appendage lined up between her thighs.

                                            >Going into panic mode she reached to get off the bed but you pin her down with your free forearm and use it to support yourself on her.

                                            >You then use your other hand to grab onto one half of her torn shirt and start to yank,

                                            >”Stop! I beg you! I implore you to reconsider!”

                                            >With a loud *riiiip* you get half of the shirt off of her and bring it to her hand.

                                            “At least cut me some slack, Rarity, I don’t need to hear it more than once.”

                                            >You force her hand up to the bedframe and use the torn shirt to fasten her wrist to it.

                                            >She yanks on it and it proves effective.

                                            >Her struggling to no avail makes her writhe under you more,

                                            >“Puh-uh-leaase!”

                                            >She reaches to untie her binding with the other hand but you snatch it.

                                            >Tearing off the other half of shirt, she yelps out a half-moan which excites you further.

                                            >You follow the same process as before, pushing her wrist to the frame and securing it.

                                            >Now for her legs.

                                            >Repositioning yourself you lean back upright, and admire her figure.

                                            >When suddenly a foot comes to meet your chin.

                                            >Thankfully you see it coming and grab her ankle and pull her leg up.

                                            >Tears begin to well in her eyes and her mascara starts to run as she laughs even more nervously than before.

                                            >”I’ll never do it again, I promise you! I’ll buy you a new one! Just don’t-“

                                            >You yank her legs apart but they resist and close.

                                            >So you get a grip on her other leg and yank them both upwards before parting them and rushing yourself between her thighs before she can close her legs again.

                                            >If you weren’t erect before, you certainly are now as you feel something warm and moist meet your crotch.

                                            >Pushing into her pelvis, she lets loose a sharp yelp and you semi-dry hump her.

                                            >Now that you’re between her thighs you now have free use of your hands and you use them to fling up her signature purple skirt.

                                            >”Stop! I’m your sister for heaven’s sake!”

                                            >She throws her head back and you can hear her mumbling to herself.

                                            >It doesn’t matter what she’s saying though, you’re focused on something else right now.

                                            >You grab onto her panties from the front and pull upwards to rip them off but they don’t budge.

                                            >Yanking on them causes Rarity to moan and cry out as they rub against her womanly parts.

                                            >Finally they snap and are quickly tossed aside.

                                            >Now the real fun begins.

                                            >Your erect member finds her second pair of lips and you rub the end of it against her.

                                            >Looking back up, Rarity stares back at you through reddening, watery eyes.

                                            >Her mascara is now ruined and runs down her face as she breaths in short, sharp breaths.

                                            >A tinge of remorse and guilt begins to grow as you realize what you’re doing.

                                            >She continues to stare pleadingly into your eyes and definitely sees your growing shame.

                                            >Then she, from what you assume, makes an attempt at escape.

                                            >The thrusts her body up, which shoves your tip into her and causes you to let out a moan as pleasure climbs up your body.

                                            >Yeah, she’s going to get it now.

                                            >You fight her resistance by quickly ramming yourself into her, seemingly, relaxed womanhood and use your weight to pin her down.

                                            >She screams as you do so, her voice cracking partway through and the sudden silence give way to more crying.

                                            >You can feel her breathing hard against your chest, she looks at you in search of one last tinge of mercy.

                                            >”Gently, please… At least do that for your sister.” She sobs.

                                            >You shrug it off and oblige, if slow and steady is what she wants then so be it.

                                            >Dragging back out you feel her body tighten as if it was trying to keep you inside her.

                                            >Catering to her request you thrust back in gently, her warm dignity struggling to fit your length.

                                            >You begin to repeat the process, pulling and pushing in and out of her.

                                            >Grabbing onto her shoulders you pull her body into you with a rhythmic pace.

                                            >Taking another look at her, you notice she’s given up.

                                            >Her legs were no longer trying to push you out, they were idle and unresisting.

                                            >Her hands didn’t make fists, instead, they rested and hung limp.

                                            >Rarity had even given up trying to hold her head up, she was looking to the wall and sobbed almost quietly as she took your hard discipline.

                                            >Maybe a little wakeup call?

                                            >You suddenly pick up the pace and thrust harder and deeper into her than before.

                                            >She looks up, surprised, and starts to shake her head.

                                            >”NO, nononono!”

                                            >Her walls begin to tighten and she becomes revitalized.

                                            >She yanks back on the torn shirt and new tears begin to flow down her cheeks.

                                            >”Wait, anything but that!”

                                            >Her legs told you she was enjoying it, as they trembled and shook as she orgasmed but the rest of her body fought against you.

                                            >It was your turn to let it out.

                                            >You moved a hand from her shoulder and onto her neck and pulled her onto you like a lifeless doll.

                                            >She forced her eyes shut as she continued to shake her head.

                                            >Small sharp yelps, cries, and moans betrayed her as she sobbed a message to you,

                                            >”Not inside, please, just please don’t-“

                                            >Denying her with final thrusts a wave of ecstasy moves up your spine as you let out a torrent of seed into her formerly untapped womanhood.

                                            >She laid back and moaned to signify she had joined you in the feeling.

                                            >Pulling out, you see the mangled mess you’ve made.

                                            >Rarity laid sprawled on your bed, in a soaking puddle made of both of your sex and sweat.

                                            >One of her legs dangled off the bed and she look up at you with empty eyes.

                                            >You reached over and untied her and you expected to get hit.

                                            >But no answer came as her hands fell limply downwards.

                                            >Now that the excitement had faded, a different kind of wave hit you.

                                            >Emotions flooded your head. Anger at yourself, disgust, sadness.

                                            >You moved over and picked up Rarity, cradling her in your arms as her arms and legs dangled down.

                                            >She was Abel to your Cain and you start to think this was worse than killing her.

                                            >Your heads pressed together as you suddenly began to feel violated by your own actions.

                                            >A soft, petite, hand came up to your cheek and the most unexpected voice comforted you.

                                            >”There, there, darling.”

                                            >The woman, no, your SISTER that you just RAPED was trying to comfort you.

                                            >You closed your eyes to stop any tears from showing.

                                            >”It’s alright darling. I quite enjoyed myself, honest,” she gave you a peck on the cheek.

                                            “Rarity, this was just… Wrong! How could I justify myself?”

                                            >She wrapped an arm around your head and brought you closer,

                                            >”I know darling, but every lady has her dangerous, secret kink,”

                                            >What?

                                            >”And I’d really like to thank you for appealing to it. Next time, don’t give me a new one.”

                                            >Is she saying…?

                                            >”Just pinning me would have done the trick, Anon. As exciting as it was, I’d like not to ruin a shirt every time we get frisky from here on out.”

                                            >She moaned lightly as she recalled what happened,

                                            >”How you tore me open like a present and enjoyed me like the doll I am. I never thought I’d enjoy the thought of my beautiful work being torn to shreds and used against me,”

                                            >Then a sharp pain connected with your face as a loud *slap* rang out.

                                            >”And stay out of my diary!”