The girl had always been one of extravagance, always caring about the materialistic sorts. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, purses, everything had to be name brand and overly priced to prove a point to the ones around her. Her room was no exception to this. She had the second largest walk in closet in the house—besides her parents' massive closet, of course. Which was full of clothing and shoes that she had barely wore more than once, sorted in perfect, almost obsessive categories aligned the wall in selves. One wall holding the many array of shoes. Heels, sandals, any and everything a girl could ask for planted on display as if to show off her perfection as another wall held her purses, the other a row of clothe neatly hung in the same fashion. Everything on obvious display.
As if that wasn't obnoxious enough. Then, there was the room itself. Just like the closet, it was massive. The walls were a canvas of the current most beautiful women there were, a constant reminder for her goal of what she aspired to be. Well, appearance wise, of course. And she wasted no expense to achieve that goal. There against one of the walls, was a large Hollywood makeup desk, fully equipped with every kind of makeup, brushes, lipstick, everything for any sort of look she wanted to achieve on any sort of day. Next to that stood a large floor three-sided mirror, which was no doubt only there for the sole reason to boost her own ego by admiring herself every chance she got. Of course, there was also the wall full of jewelry, once again, on obvious display. Necklaces, bracelets, an entire wall filled with trinkets that she had probably only worn once—if that.
To top everything off, there was the bed. A massive bed located in the back of her room. It was as luxurious as every item in this room. Of course, she had to make sure she had only the best of mattresses. It was soft, as if sleeping on a cloud, and the plush pale rose comforter that blanketed the bed was just as fluffy, matched with authentic feather pillows that felt like your head was sinking into heaven. Yet, that wasn't enough for a Queen such as Elise. She had to top it off with a lavish canopy. Four posters on each side of the bed held up the lace curtains that draped over the side like water. Of course, like most everything in this room, it was for show, majority of the time, the curtains were tied up neatly to the posters.
Elise thought herself a Queen and her room every bit proved that, and with the way she had their father wrapped around her little finger, she easily got anything she asked for. And if he ever got word of this little stunt Logan was pulling, who knows what he would do. That is, if Elise was willing to drop her pride and admit Logan had outwitted her, of course.
By the time Logan had finally ventured into her room, the drug had completely sent her mind into such a haze that even the slumber she fell into was dark, deep, and dreamless. She had barely even made it to her bed before she collapsed, her face planted into the plush blanket as her legs dangled off the edge of the bed. When Logan yelled, clapped, even shifted her body, turning her to her back and sprawling her limps out, Elise never reacted, her pretty face remaining completely still, and for once one may think she was… Harmless.
When the truth was, the girl was defenseless, completely and utterly at Logan's mercy. And that was becoming more and more clear by the way her thin black tank top rose above her navel, the bottom of her naked breasts peeking out from under the thin cloth, threatening to slip out, leaving her more vulnerable than she had, and would've ever allowed herself to be. Making things worse, her tiny pajama shorts had risen against her mound, making a perfect mold of the shape of her pussy. And even as Logan began his assault, running his touch along the smooth skin of her arm, the girl could do nothing.
Not. A. Damn. Thing.
However, the more his hands ran across her body, the more the sensations entered her mind. It was as if she was stuck in a dream she couldn't wake up from, a dream she didn't understand. She could feel his hand upon her body, feel the way he caressed down her exposed stomach, her luscious womanly curves, as if enjoying every moment of teasing the untouchable skin Elise had prided in herself, soon lifted her shirt further to finally expose her naked breasts. The moment his hands fell upon them, her lips parted, a ragged sigh escaping her lips as her eyebrows knitted together. The slightest of reactions to his touch, making it quite clear that no matter what she may try to say, she desired a touch of a man, even in the thickness of her dreams.
Even if that man was her lame brother.
