From voyeur to participant

I saw Brooke’s car in the driveway and told Jennifer to drop me off up the street instead. I waved goodbye to my friend as she drove away and then quickly dove into action; running across the yards of our peaceful suburb back to my house. I crouched down as I got closer and peered through the pickets of our fence.

“You got a problem with me?” Brooke asked my stepbrother.

“What? Who are you?” my brother answered in surprise.

“Got a problem with this?” Brooke sneered at him, grabbing the hunk of shemale meat in her shorts. Her cock created a massive bulge, especially in the skimpy pair of shorts she was wearing. It was every bit of nine inches long with the girth to match.

“I don’t even know you! I don’t know what you’re trying to do. Do you know my sister or something?” Brandon dropped the rag and the hose he’d been using to wash the car.

Brooke was tall, muscular and large-bodied without being fat. She was all these things while maintaining her femininity. Brooke had full lips, a nice firm ass, and massive breasts. Her nipples get so long and stiff when she’s aroused, it’s like–I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?

Brooke closed the gap between herself and my stepbrother. She was easily a few inches taller, and fantastically intimidating as she stared down her nose at him. “That’s right, I know Tiff. You’re going to apologize to her and you’re going to apologize to me. Got that?” she grabbed his arm threateningly.

Okay, this situation requires some explanation. It started when our parents took off to attend a week-long conference. They left the car to my stepbrother for a week. What a slap in the face, right? I’m older. Brandon hasn’t even graduated high school yet! So I wanted to do the responsible thing and work out a schedule where I got the car for a few days, too. Brandon wouldn’t even consider it.

That’s where Brooke comes in. I met her at college. We have a small support group for t-girls. There’s only five of us. Brooke is the alpha shemale. Any time one of us has a problem–like some idiot bothering us because we have dicks–we go to Brooke and she takes care of it. Nobody asks how she does it, but that idiot never makes so much as a wrong peep again.

I was so pissed at my brother that I bent the truth a little to get Brooke on him. I told her he was being a jerk and making fun of t-girls. Brooke doesn’t take that laying down. So here I was witnessing Brooke’s method. I had a front-row seat to see how the sausage got made.

“Get your hands off me!” Brandon shouted. “I’m not apologizing for anything. It was my parents’ decision. Get the fuck out of here!”

Brandon’s pride was talking as he stood up to her. He didn’t realize he was doing more harm than good. People didn’t talk to Brooke like that–she made sure of it.

“You disrespectful little shit! I don’t know how Tiffany lives with you.” Brooke pushed him and he fell back against the car with a yelp. “Get your sorries out now before I really get pissed,” she scowled.

A moment of indecision crept over Brandon’s face and then suddenly he balled his fist and flung it at Brooke. It didn’t connect. The two of them started to scuffle. Brooke had a smile on her face which told me she wanted it this way all along.

Brooke put him down fast with less humiliation than I expected. I realized that was about to come as she dragged my stepbrother behind the cover of our fence into the grass. I had an even better view now–barely more than a few feet from both of them.

I watched my friend squat over my brother’s body. I’d never seen a bigger smile on her face. Brooke was in her element. My brother opened his mouth to talk, but Brooke covered it before he could. “Don’t scream. Don’t try anything. You really shouldn’t start fights you can’t finish.”

By : SugarandSalt

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