Hansel fidgeted, red-faced, peripherally noting the eyes of his sister upon him. She, too, looked where the witch’s attention was focused. In self-admonishment, she turned away, chewing her lower lip.
“Well, let’s get you cleaned up,” announced Ginger. “Then we’ll begin.”
* * * *
Gretel was anxious when her brother returned, walking naked before the tall, stately Ginger, his head bowed and eyes following the lines of the floor. She could not help but admire how admiringly her brother had filled out. A lifetime of hard chores and typical playtime had toned him well; his abdomen was flat and firm, waist narrow, legs and arms naturally rippling with casual strength. If nothing else, Gretel could admire her brother as a handsome man.
The witch returned him to his cell, and Hansel turned to face her through the bars once the door clanged shut. His clothes were gone, removed to the same bin, Gretel was certain, in which her own now lay.
“Drink this,” the witch ordered, holding out the ruby-colored flask.
Gingerly, Hansel took the vial, pulled the stopper, and sniffed. His features contorted in recoil at the foul smell. “What is it?”
Ginger glared. “You don’t want to know,” she said. “Just drink it. All of it. Now.”
Hansel sought his sister’s encouragement with his eyes; reluctantly, she gave it. Neither of them knew what would happen if Hansel drank the strange brew, but they intrinsically understood what would happen if he did not.
Begrudgingly, Hansel tilted the mouth of the vial against his lips, pouring a thick, syrupy concoction into his mouth that possessed the consistency of oil and the flavor of rancid meat and rotten vegetables. He gagged and choked, struggling to get it all down. Once the potion was swirling in his stomach, he heaved dryly a few times, feeling acid burn into his throat. Yet he managed to keep the retched swill down.
Ginger grinned. “Good boy,” she chided, then gestured. Gretel’s cage shook as the door lifted upward. “Come on out,” the witch said to the girl.
Apprehensively, wondering what Ginger had in mind, Gretel crawled out, settling into a crouch upon the cool tiled floor.
“Get on your knees before your brother,” Ginger instructed. “I’ll let you do the honors.”
Gretel frowned. “What’ya mean?”
Ginger glared darkly, her eyes flashing crimson. “Do as I say!”
Gretel flinched, then did as she had been directed, settling onto her knees and facing Hansel through the bars. For a moment, her eyes rest upon her brother’s flaccid penis, but she quickly lifted them to his face, offering encouragement and hope.
Ginger lowered herself beside the young woman, all but pressing herself against Gretel. “Now, watch.”
Gretel began to question what it was she was supposed to see, but her words were stifled as Hansel moaned, eyes closing as if drunken. He swayed upon his feet, and gripped the bars before him to maintain his footing. His muscles tensed, and hips were thrust out. The soft length of flesh hanging between his thighs began to stiffen rapidly, angling outward, swiftly growing to full length within a matter of heartbeats.
Gretel caught her breath as she gazed upon Hansel’s erect cock. The entire shaft, and especially the head, glowed with the blood that filled it. Glistening moisture seeped from the tip, dribbling down the length of the staff or dripping to the floor. Hansel’s expression was one of detached arousal.
“Now, Gretel,” whispered Ginger. “Wrap your hands around it. Stroke it. It won’t take long.”
Gretel shuddered, a mixture of revulsion, fascination, and arousal swirling in her mind. She barely registered the feel of Ginger’s hands cupping her breasts, running up and down her abdomen as she reached through the bars of Hansel’s cage and took hold of her own brother’s throbbing cock. Driven by fear of the consequences should she disobey the witch, and by fascination for the moment, she began tugging on Hansel’s tense phallus.
“That’s it,” whispered Ginger in the girl’s ear, squeezing Gretel’s firm breasts, lightly twisting her nipples. “He’ll come quickly. Catch it all in your hands.”
Gretel felt detached, like an automaton, masturbating her brother. Hansel seemed oblivious, his eyes closed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Now and then he thrust out toward his sister, and would grunt when he did so. Gretel pumped faster and firmer, fingers becoming slick with the oily effusion which seeped from the slit of Hansel’s penis.
Finally, Hansel gasped and groaned loudly, his body jerking and face contorting. From deep within him, thick, milky fluid surged forth, flowing and occasionally spurting, filling the fleshy cup Gretel made of her left hand. The warm pool of semen overflowed, a little of it dripping down along her wrist and to the floor below. Gretel tugged to get it all out, enthralled at the sight.
“Quickly, in the jar,” urged Ginger, holding up a small, wide-mouthed brown jar that looked to have once been the home of some kind of jam or marmalade. Dutifully, Gretel withdrew her hand and tilted it, pouring the cloudy, thick fluid into the jar. Ginger helped, scraping a long, blue-nailed finger down Gretel’s palm, smearing it with Hansel’s sperm.
Casually, the witch sucked her finger clean, and held up the jar. She made a gesture, staring at the contents within. After a few moments, a clouded, disappointed expression colored her face. “Not enough,” she said.
Gretel felt a wave of panic. “What’ya mean?”
Ginger sighed as she stood. “It means this will take a little longer than I thought. Get back in your cage, girl.”
“No!” cried Gretel, shooting to her feet. Her eyes blazed with youthful, unrestrained rage. “I wanna know—ah!” She cried out as she was thrown backward by an invisible hand and deposited rudely in her cage. The door slammed shut.
“You’ll know what I want you to know,” snarled Ginger before she left.
Gretel stared after, naked breasts rising and falling. But her anger was mitigated as she looked to Hansel, slumped in the cage beside hers. He seemed drained; his eyes were heavy, mouth slack.
“Han? Ya ‘kay?”
Slowly, he nodded. “Uh-huh...” Then he pitched to his side and promptly passed out.
* * * *
Later that day, then again that evening, Ginger returned with more of the bile-inducing potion for Hansel to consume. As before, the concoction resulted in a rapid erection yet less and less fogging of Hansel’s mind. And as before, the witch directed Greta to masturbate her brother to orgasm. The third time, however, was a bit different. Hansel stood up against the bars, thrusting his pelvis out so that his arcanely engorged cock protruded through the bars. That made it easier for Gretel to stroke his stiff length, but it also gave Ginger a perverse idea.
“Put it in your mouth, Gretel,” the witch seethed through clenched teeth, pushing on the back of the girl’s head. “Suck it out of him.”
Gretel gasped with revulsion. “But, he’s my brother—mmph!”
Ginger grinned, forcing the dark-haired girl’s mouth down upon Hansel’s stiffness. Heat spread through the witch as one twin’s lips wrapped around the other’s cock. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” she whispered coarsely. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted it. If I had a twin brother...I’d never leave the bedroom.”
Gretel murmured, such sounds muffled by the stiff length of flesh sliding back and forth in her mouth. The fact that it was her own brother she was sucking off both perturbed and excited her. She hated to admit that the witch was right; now and then, in fact, Gretel had entertained speculative thoughts of what it would be like to bed her own brother.
“Good girl,” encouraged Ginger as Gretel’s head bobbed back and forth. She toyed with the girl’s stiff nipples, even delved her fingers between Gretel’s taut thighs to feel the pool of wetness between. “Make him come in your mouth, but don’t swallow...”
Gretel moaned, but only partly from disgust or discomfort. She looked up at Hansel’s face, saw him staring back with stupefied eyes. He could have pulled
back, Gretel knew. There was no witch behind him keeping him in place. But he did not. In fact, he seemed to try to push forward even more, making the bars of the cage dig into his lower abdomen and upper thighs. It was obvious to his sister that Hansel relished the sensations she gave him. That fact, for some reason, inspired Gretel.
She’s suckin’ my cock! Hansel thought, watching Gretel’s slick lips as they delved down again and again along his quivering shaft. He was suddenly grateful for the fact that the potion no longer clouded his mind. I can’t believe how good it feels! My own sister is...is...Oh, God—
Before he knew it, before he could warn her, Hansel was ejaculating, pouring his seed into Gretel’s mouth. The warm fluid gushing to the back of her throat made her gag momentarily, but she managed to keep her composure. Though reflex almost sent the bittersweet liquid down to her stomach, she was heedful of the witch’s command of not swallowing. Yet there seemed to be almost too much; it threatened to overflow the seal of her lips.
Hansel trembled in bliss, enjoying the perverse pleasure he now felt to the utmost. The fact that Gretel’s gaze never wavered from his only intensified his orgasm. He had never imagined how beautiful and erotic his own sister could be, how completely satisfying it would be to spend his passion between her lips.
“Yes,” hissed Ginger with approval. She petted the back of Gretel’s head as if the girl were an obedient pet. “Make sure you get it all. Squeeze it with your hands...yes, that’s it. Good girl, Greta.”
Gretel blinked a few times, smelling nothing but the piquant aroma of Hansel’s cum. She slipped her lips from her twin’s penis, leaving it glistening as it slowly softened. Ginger’s hand holding another small, dark jar appeared before her, silently commanding her to discharge the contents of her mouth. For a moment, Gretel considered swallowing her brother’s fluid, just to confound the witch. But there was no telling how Ginger would respond.
Ain’t got no choice, Gretel thought, and tilted her head, parting her lips to allow the slimy fluid to flow out over her lower lip and into the jar. Hansel’s semen was thick, more viscous than any she had experienced before. Gretel had to waggle her tongue to get it all to slough off.
“Now, let us see,” Ginger said, inspecting the jar once more. Eyes narrowed, she emitted a faint “hmm” after a few moments. “We’re getting there, children.” She winked. “Perhaps just a few more days.”
Hansel and Gretel exchanged morose looks. A few more days?
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following few days followed a clockwork routine. As soon as Hansel and Gretel awoke, they were taken to the shower to clean themselves. Ginger would then come to the twins with breakfast, lunch and dinner, Hansel’s supplemented with another dose of the foul potion. Following each meal, Gretel would be ordered to masturbate her brother to orgasm. Occasionally, Gretel would felate him, whether ordered by the witch or not. The teen girl had come to the conclusion that if she had to pleasure her brother, she may as well make it enjoyable for them both.
At night, when the witch was gone, they would talk, sometimes crying over their unfortunate circumstances, sometimes becoming angry with their mother and father for having placed them where they were. They lamented what cruel fates, or what a cruel God, they suffered for the humiliation heaped upon them. They worried that the witch would make them slaves for life, or worse yet, kill them both.
The evening of the twins’ fourth day of captivity, Gretel once more serviced her brother with her lips, tongue and hands. They moaned in unison when Hansel’s release flooded his twins’ mouth, and Gretel obligingly milked him for every drop of precious seed. For those few moments of bliss, Hansel and Gretel forgot about the witch, until her voice intruded upon them.
“That’s enough,” Ginger said, handing Gretel another jar into which she emptied her mouthful of soupy fluid. Impatiently, Ginger took it the jar, inspecting it after yet another eldritch gesture. At last she smiled with excitement, eyes glowing brightly at the results of her arcane assessment. With a grin, she looked upon a worried and nervous Hansel. “Oh, my dear young man,” she cooed. “You’ll need your rest tonight, indeed.”
Hansel swallowed skittishly, fearful eyes darting to Gretel. His sister stared back. She don’t mean what I think she means, does she?
“Back in your cage, Gretel,” Ginger said, not watching the girl to see that she complied. But Greta did, of course, crawling onto the dirty pressboard before the cage door swung closed.
“Tomorrow, Hansel,” the witch said with a wistful sigh, touching the young man’s face through the bars. “Tomorrow, we make love.”
Hansel jerked his face away, stepping back in the cage, out of reach of the evil woman. “I ain’t touchin’ ya, ya ugly old hag!” he spat defiantly.
Instead of anger, as Hansel had anticipated, Ginger merely laughed, tittering like an amused housemarm. “Oh, my dear boy, I have to say I'm impressed with your fire.” Her smile vanished, countenance abruptly clouded with malevolence. “But you will make love to me, Hansel. Or else I will have a new dish on my menu.”
Gretel gasped in fright, cowering in the corner of her cage as the witch’s meaningful gaze fell upon her. She shot her brother a pleading look. “H-Han?”
“Don’t ya dare—“ began Hansel valiantly.
“Dare? DARE?” screeched Ginger, making the young man flinch. “This is my domain! I rule here! And you will obey my every command, or Gretel Soup will be next week’s special!”
Gretel choked out a cry of anguish, squeezing her arms about her legs. She shrieked in terror when the cage opened and Ginger began to step inside, reaching menacingly for the girl.
“Okay! Okay!” cried Hansel in panic. “Please don’t do nothin’ t’ my sister! I’ll do it, okay?”
Ginger stopped her advance upon the cowering twin and leered upon Hansel. “Of course you will,” she chided, then retreated from the cage, letting it close. She stepped once more before Hansel, appraising his naked form. “Don’t you fret about a thing, Hansel. You’re first time making love will be an experience you will never forget.”
Hansel soured, glaring after Ginger as the witch turned and made her way from the room, humming a perversely light-hearted tune. As soon as the door closed, he released all of his anger and frustration in a single bellow.
“YOU'RE GONNA BURN, YA WITCH!”
* * * *
“Hansel?”
His sister’s timid voice drifted through the darkness to Hansel’s ears. The fate that awaited the young man in the morning kept the angels of sleep from visiting. Lack of sleep and depression had placed the young man in a morbid frame of mind.
“I’d rather boff ol’ Missus Hawley than that evil witch,” he muttered.
Gretel shifted in her cage, sitting up. The darkness of their prison was almost absolute; she could only make out the faint glow of her brother’s skin, the radiance of his violet-hued eyes. “I’d give anythin’ t’ not let it happen,” she whispered earnestly.
Hansel sighed, letting out the frustration of his soul. “I know ya would,” he said. He looked sidelong at his twin, reaching between the bars to find her hand. “But ain’t no way I’d let her hurt ya.”
Gretel managed a smile, gripping her brother’s hand. She slid closer, until she was nearly touching the bars. “Ya know, all that stuff the witch was makin’ us do...I kind’a liked it, sometimes.”
Hansel blushed, teeth glittering slightly as a genuine smile pulled his lips apart. “Guess ya know how much I liked it,” he said.
The twins laughed softly. The morbidity of their predicament made such concerns as morality trivial. It was heartening that, despite the pain and depression their situation presented, they had managed to find something positive about it.
“I wanna tell ya somethin’, Han,” Gretel continued. “Whenever ya, ya know, when ya was getting’ off, I always got a li’l buzz...ya know...down there.”
Hansel frowned skeptically. “Really?”
Gretel’s blu
sh was just visible in the shadows. “Yeah.”
Hansel squeezed her hand. “Whatever happens ta’morrow,” he said. “I hope everythin’ll be right between us.”
“Ya ain't gotta worry ‘bout that, little brother,” Gretel said with sincerity. “We ain’t got nothin’ if we ain’t got each other, ya know?”
Hansel shuddered with emotion, for the first time in days feeling a glimmer of hope light upon his heart. “Thanks, sis.”
Gretel huffed. “What I don’t get is why it’s so all-damned important that ya gotta be a virgin,” she said.
Hansel grimaced. “I don’t know,” he grumbled. “But, ya remember all’a them fairy tales Mother used’ta tell us when we was younger? Like, ‘bout unicorns an’ virgins, an’ dragons an’ virgins an’ stuff like that. Guess bein’ a virgin is somethin’ special for magic-like stuff.”
Gretel nodded. “Yeah...guess so...” She laughed abruptly. “Now I bet you’re wishin’ ya got it on with Maggie Mayfield when ya had the chance, huh?”
Hansel echoed the laugh, more heartily than he should have. “Ya know, I was just thinkin’ that!”
Gretel bounced in mirth. “I know. We’re twins, ‘member? We can read each other’s mind.”
Hansel smiled, nodded, then pulled his sister’s hand through the bars to kiss the fingers that were tightly wound around his own. “Yeah. Like th’ time we caught that rabbit in th’ back yard, and dad kept tryin’ ta get ‘round us ta see what we got—“
Gretel grinned at the memory. “But every time he’d move ‘round one’a us, th’ other’d be there. Like, no matter what, he couldn’t get ‘round us.”
Hansel nodded, gritting his teeth. “Wish we could do somethin’ so that witch couldn’t get ‘round us,” he said.
They sat in silence for several minutes, holding one another’s hand, brushing their fingers together. The intimacy was encouraging, helping to sustain that one fleeting spark of hope.
“Han?”
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