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From: Shannon <PunkyGirl04@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Suburban Girl" Part Eight (m/f, beast, incest)
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Date: Wed, 19 Nov 2008 11:10:02 -0500
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Author's Note: This story is heavily inspired by my personal favorite
UseNet story of all time, "Farm Girl" by Dark Dreamer. It's not a
retelling of that awesome tale, nor is it a sequel or anything like
that. Rather it's sort of a re-imagining of Dark Dreamer's classic
character, Becky, as told in my own words. I hope no one is going to
consider this plagiarism. I have loved "Farm Girl" for more than a
decade now, having first read it when I was a shy 13-year-old girl who
knew little about erotica but became instantly hooked. I hope that
this story serves as a tribute to Dark Dreamer's work.

Synopsis: In the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio a young girl discovers
that masturbation is a sin. But when she breaks a promise to God to
stop her immoral actions she begins to see the Bible's list of sexual
restrictions as her most basic and carnal desires. Because for this 13-
year-old suburban girl, sin and her wanton sexual needs go hand in
hand as she struggles to endure a body built for sex, abuse, and
constant orgasm.

Blah-Blah: If you like this story please let me know by e-mail! You
can also reach me at my website, www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Forbidden_Fantasies/www/

Notice: All accounts, descriptions, locations, people, places, and
events are the work of fiction and are the product of the author's
imagination. The following story contains explicit sexual content.

Suburban Girl
by PunkyGirl04

Part Eight
*******
The day after the gang initiation I stayed home from school.
Physically I was just too sore to consider going so I told my dad that
I was sick. I was so emotionally drained by the previous day's events
that when I asked I sounded as meek and miserable as I felt. My dad
called me in without any objection.

On Friday I felt better. Physically, the wounds I sustained during the
court-in on Wednesday had been mostly superficial and were already
healed. The soreness from fucking all those gang members was also
mostly gone and I could actually walk and sit without wincing. On the
outside I knew I looked like my normal pretty, timid self and that
made me feel better inside. What made me feel even better than that
was a plan I'd come up with on Thursday while laying in my bed and
feeling miserable.

The plan was simple: I was going to just pretend nothing depraved or
perverted or sexual had ever happened to me. None of it. Nothing about
the gang, nothing about Amy, and especially nothing about my time as a
sex slave to Daniel. All of those recent experiences, while sexually
exhilarating, were wicked and wrong and made me feel terribly dirty
inside. The answer was to just pretend that none of them had occurred,
that I had never stopped being the innocent girl I had once been. From
now on, I promised myself, I would stay away from dirty movies and
magazines. I wouldn't flirt with strangers and I wouldn't fantasize
about doing anything with them. If for some reason I got too horny to
restrain myself I would just masturbate in the shower. That was all I
would do. I wouldn't even masturbate in bed anymore. I would return to
being shy about my vagina, rubbing it only in the privacy of the
bathroom and biting my lip to hide my cries and moans. It would be my
only form of sexual pleasure until my wedding night someday. Until
then I would be a good Catholic girl again-- I'd dress appropriately
at all times, say my prayers, read my bible, and study hard in my
classes. Most of all I would think pure thoughts and forget all about
the past couple of months and all my depraved and dirty experiences.

This strategy of denial helped me get to sleep Thursday night and made
me feel great the next day at school. I studied hard in class and even
chatted with Melissa a little bit between the classes we shared. It
felt good to return to my old ways of behaving-- I was even wearing
panties for the first time in weeks-- and I decided that after doing
my homework when I got home I would get rid of the Book of Sins and
any other evidence of my former, wicked ways. I would burn them, I
decided, the book and everything else. It would be like purging my
soul of all its wicked sins.

First, though, I had to do a load of laundry. When I got home I raced
to do just that, bringing down my hamper from my bedroom to the
basement. As the washing machine filled with soapy water I dropped in
my light colored clothing, one piece at a time, examining each to make
sure it would fit with my newly restored life of innocence. Some of
the tops would have to be thrown out, articles of clothing that Daniel
had either really liked or had personally purchased for me. Others
simply brought back bad memories. I decided I would wash them first
then donate them to the Salvation Army.

Everything was going great until I came across a pair of panties. I
almost dropped them into the machine without thinking but before they
slipped out of my hand I froze. I brought the garment closer to my
eyes to inspect them as a feeling of dread ensnared my heart. I held
the underwear out and looked closely at the light gray silk material
with the little bow in the middle of the back waistband. Something was
wrong. After a pause I knew what it was, too.

They shouldn't have been there. I hadn't been wearing underwear, in
accordance with Daniel's orders, for weeks. So why was it in my
hamper? It didn't make any sense. I turned the underwear around and
examined the front and that's where I saw the stain, a light milky
color right where the fabric would cover my pussy. It was a stain I
was familiar with, after weeks of being Daniel's sex slave, a stain
I'd had to scrub out of many an outfit after Daniel fucked me as he
sometimes had while I was still wearing my school uniform. It was a
semen stain, it was obvious, and I gasped out loud at the realization.

My mind clouded over as the implications of this hit me. The underwear
slipped out of my fingers, which had gone limp, and fell into the
churning washing machine below. I stared in confusion as the sudsy
water swallowed my panties up and finally hid them from my view. I
went onto tip-toes, unconsciously trying to catch a glimpse of my
underwear again, but it was impossible. I felt numb all over as I
returned to my hamper. My hands shook as I picked through the
remainder of my soiled clothes, dropping the light colored garments
into the machine again as I had before, terrified that I would stumble
across another pair of panties. I didn't.

I closed the machine and walked back upstairs on numb legs. I didn't
stop walking until I was up the next flight of stairs and safely in my
bedroom. I forgot all about my homework as I fell onto my bed and
thought about the gray silk panties with the semen stain being cleaned
out of them in the basement. How had they gotten into my hamper? How
had the stain gotten on them? What the heck was going on?

I fought against the truth for a long while. I tried to convince
myself that maybe, maybe Daniel had told me to wear panties one day.
Or perhaps I had brought them with me to his place and he'd used them
to clean off his prick after fucking me. Maybe I'd just forgotten
about it. After all the last few weeks had been crazy. The part of me
that wanted to lead a new life of innocence and purity wanted to
believe there was a good explanation for the panties and the stain.

It was no use. Deep down I knew that had I worn any panties since
Daniel had ordered me not to, I would have remembered. I sure as heck
remembered the one time I had defied him and pulled on a pair before
my dad spanked me a couple of weeks earlier. Except for the "special"
pair he'd made me wear to church as punishment, that had been the last
time I'd worn any. I also remembered washing them that week during my
normal load of laundry. All of my underwear, then, should be clean and
folded in the top drawer of my dresser.

But they weren't. There was one pair, in the basement, tumbling around
inside the washing machine. They had a semen stain on them, too. That
could mean only one thing: someone had stolen the panties from my
drawer, gotten semen on them, then hid them in my hamper thinking that
I'd never notice. I wouldn't have, either, except for the fact I
hadn't been wearing underwear the last few weeks. Whoever had done it
hadn't known that. Also, whoever had done it had access to my bedroom.

A chill ran down the back of my spine as I squeezed my thighs
together. The feeling of the panties I was currently wearing suddenly
felt suffocating. I pulled up my pleated skirt and without a thought
pushed my underwear down my slender legs and kicked them off my bed. I
left my skirt pulled up around my waist and squeezed my legs together
again, feeling better now that there was no underwear there. My mind
raced with images of one of my brothers, or even my dad, sneaking into
my bedroom and stealing the gray panties. I imagined them, each member
of my family in turn, holding the silk fabric to their nostrils and
inhaling the faint scent of my pussy. In my head I pictured them
wrapping the small piece of underwear around their cocks, jerking
themselves with it, groaning as they came. I wondered if they'd been
thinking of me while they did and knew that they must have. I felt a
shameful, perverse pleasure at the idea and realized I was wet between
my thighs.

Forgetting everything about my plan to be nothing but innocent, pure
and chaste, I reached down and began to rub myself. The touch of my
finger made my whole body shudder and with my free hand I began to
squeeze one of my small breasts through my shirt. I slipped my finger
between my slender labia and found my clit and pressed there and
groaned. All thoughts of innocence, of even wanting to be innocent,
disappeared as I pictured my brothers, my own flesh and blood, jerking
off with my panties. It was so wrong and twisted that it stirred all
the carnal and depraved wantings in my soul. It didn't take long for
me to cum and when I did I screeched out with perverse delight.

Time went by slowly following the orgasm. I laid in my bed, my legs
naked save for my white socks. My thighs were still splayed wide with
my hand between them for what seemed like hours before I pushed them
together again and pressed back down my skirt. I licked my lips with
my eyes closed as the lingering images of my brothers and father faded
away. Shame and desire and satisfaction wrapped around me like a
blanket. A thick, comforting blanket I had missed for less than a day
but miss it I had.

Never had a self-induced orgasm felt so important. I didn't want to
suppress my feelings anymore. Something had clicked inside me and it
felt good. Even the perversity of one of my own family members
masturbating with my most private clothing felt good. Maybe it was
just the feeling of finally accepting what I was, but it was real. My
feelings were real and I just had to embrace them. I enjoyed sex too
much to just stop having it, to wait for a wedding night someday. I
enjoyed masturbating too much to do it only while thinking "safe
thoughts" while cuddled up in the corner of the shower. No, I had to
be what I was.

But what if, I wondered, my yearnings and perverse desires got me into
trouble again someday? Well, I would just have to get my pleasure in
the safest, least harmful way possible. I sat up in bed and sighed.
Tears had been trickling down my face, I was surprised to find. I
wiped them away with my dry hand and made up my mind about what I was
going to do.

After dialing Lee's number on my cell phone I began to have second
thoughts. What kept me from hanging up before he answered was the
realization that I needed him. It wasn't just for the sex I so
desperately needed. It was more than that. I needed him to keep me
safe from my own perverse, carnal desires. I had just masturbated
while thinking about my brothers. What had been a fake confession to
Father DeGrazia almost a week ago was now reality. There was no way
I'd ever be able to be pure or innocent, not with a mind like mine. If
I didn't find someone to fuck, someone safe, eventually I'd go back to
doing crazy and fucked up things. It was how I was wired. There would
be another Daniel, or something similar, if there wasn't a strong and
safe hand in my life to both pleasure me and guide me. I needed Lee to
be that hand.

"Lee here."

I spoke quietly with him on the phone, my voice breathless and lustful
and childlike all at the same time. He seemed to understand what I was
calling about without me ever having to come out and say it. He kept
saying, "Uh huh," to things even I didn't understand. I went on and
on, talking sort of erratically, and leaving out specific details or
requests. But by the time I was done blathering he seemed to get it.

"Girl, like I said the other night, you more than welcome at my crib
anytime."

I could hear him smiling through the phone and I felt wonderful.
Unfortunately, before I could say anything else he told me that he was
out of town on business and couldn't see me that night. It was like
being told my best friend had died, for a moment, but then he said,
"How 'bout tomorrow, girl? I can pick ya up around noon, have you home
for bedtime. How's that?"

My heart, which had been breaking, now swelled with joy. I said, "Yes,
that's ... great. Thank you ... thank you so much!"

He chuckled. "We'll have a good time, hang out and smoke some and who
knows what else."

"That's perfect," I whispered with a stupid grin on my face. I agreed
to call him back the next day to arrange being picked up before ending
the call. When it was over I fell back into my bed again with a sigh
as I imagined Lee's huge penis. He would be my salvation, I thought. I
couldn't be pure but at least I could refrain from doing anything
stupid so long as I had him to satisfy my horny urges. I was convinced
that he would.

Dinner that night was pizza, as was our Friday tradition.

It was my first Friday evening home since being Daniel's slave and my
father wondered why I wasn't out with friends. I told him that none of
my friends could hang out that evening and thankfully he believed me.
As normal I had difficulty lying to my dad, but tonight was even
worse.

I was always meek and shy around my family, especially when my father
was around. What made things worse that night was that I kept feeling
everyone's eyes on me. My brothers', my father's, all of them. While
setting out the plates and napkins for dinner I kept wondering which
one of them had jerked off with my underwear. I kept wondering if the
culprit in the room was picturing me naked right now. It made me
regret the old yellow t-shirt I had on since I was positive at least
the outline of my black bra was showing through. It's all in your
head, I repeatedly told myself, but it didn't help. The thought of my
brothers and dad hiding erections while eating their pizza made me
feel both embarrassed and aroused. I don't think I ever stopped
blushing.

Tyler, my eldest brother, arrived late to the meal. He'd had to work
late that night and made his apologizes while grabbing a beer from the
fridge. He was the only one my dad let drink other than himself. He
said, "That prick Todd made me service one last truck before letting
me off."

"Language at the table," my dad said in a stern voice, interrupting
him.

Tyler's eyes glanced over at me. I was the reason for the no-profanity
rule, I knew. I was sure my dad and brothers cussed all the time when
I wasn't around. "Sorry, sis," he mumbled. Looking back at my dad he
said, "Anyway, good news is I won't have to work that shift tomorrow
after all. So I can make it."

My dad smiled, his mouth full of food. He waited until he had
swallowed then said, "That's great. That's f- ... just great."

Something was going on. My dad looked around the table with that broad
smile on his face. Jason and Ron looked as confused as I was. Our
father said, "I have some good news, guys. I decided one last trip to
the lake would be a lot of fun this weekend. Getting a might chilly
out there, but weather's supposed to be fine. I was just waiting to
see if Tyler could make it before breaking the news."

Ron immediately said, "Sweet!" At 15 he was my youngest older brother
and probably the one most in awe of my dad. I knew he enjoyed those
fishing trips a great deal.

"I bet the wall eye'll be biting for us this time," Tyler grinned.
Like Ron, he emulated our father's passions for camping and fishing.
Now that he was nearly ready to move out and start his own life,
though, he wasn't always at our dad's beck and call anymore.

"Damn," Jason muttered under his breath.

He was sitting right next to me so I'm sure I was the only one who
heard the curse word. Otherwise my dad would have gotten mad. Instead
he just looked confused. "What's wrong, boy? Thought we had fun last
time."

"Nothing," Jason moped. "Just ... I had some plans for the weekend."

Jason was my second oldest brother. At 17 he was the one who most
often rebelled at our dad's idea of "fun". His personality was very
similar to our dad's but his hobby preferences were almost the
complete opposite. I knew he usually dreaded trips to the lake.

Our father shrugged his thick shoulders. "Cancel 'em, then. You'll
have plenty of more weekends before fishin' season returns. Becky," he
said, turning his eyes to me, "fetch me a beer. Please."

He was annoyed with Jason, I could tell, but I didn't let that stop me
from being the obedient little daughter and going to the fridge for
him. I took my time there when I heard my dad hissing across the table
at Jason. His voice was too low for me to hear but I was sure Jason
was getting a mouthful. My dad hated being crossed. I waited until the
hissing stopped before returning with my dad's beer.

The rest of our dinner my dad spoke only of the weekend. Ron and Tyler
were as excited as he was but Jason looked really annoyed. He kept
glaring at me, too, as though it was somehow my fault. I guess he was
mad because I got to stay home and he didn't. Since Jason was the
brother I liked the least I would have usually glared back at him,
even at the supper table, but not on that night. My mind was filled
with too many emotions, anxiety chief among them. Plus, I couldn't
stop thinking that Tyler, especially, was spending way too much time
glaring at me in a different way. At my chest. Maybe he was the one
who'd masturbated with my panties. The thought made me blush and
shudder.

It's all in your head! I repeated over and over inside. Just don't
think about it!

After clearing the table and cleaning up the pizza boxes I ran the
dishwasher and then finished folding my laundry. My dad found me while
I was doing this in my bedroom and gave me the same speech he'd given
a couple months earlier. About how I'd be expected to behave over the
weekend while he and my brothers were gone. About how I had to do my
chores. He reminded me that I was to call Mrs. Sanford across the
street if anything happened. But then he did give me some good news: I
was allowed to hang out with friends and stay out until 10pm!

"No friends at the house, mind you, but I let Mrs. Sanford know about
your curfew. You can expect she'll be keeping an eye out," he said.
After that he gave me his credit card so that I could buy food and
spend "no more than $20 on movies and cokes".

I nodded to him and smiled my thanks. It was what a good and grateful
daughter should do, I thought. I had to hide the hammering in my
chest: I'd still be able to see Lee the next day! And maybe I could
even sneak him into the house, too. Maybe we could hang out here. How
would my dad ever find out?

I think he misread the look on my face because he said, "Look, Becky,
these trips to the lake ... they're for the boys. You're too young to
understand but trust me, you wouldn't have fun. You'll have more fun
here, alone with your studies."

"I know, Daddy," I whispered. I dared not speak too loud. "I'll be
good. I'll be safe. You guys just have fun."

He kissed me on the forehead after that. It was awkward: my dad's
affections were always awkward. He was too hard and stern of a man for
affection to come through naturally. Yet he forced it that time and it
made me feel weird.

I lied in bed knowing for a fact that night that the person who had
stolen my panties from my drawer, the one who had jerked off with
them, could not be my dad. He thought that I was too pure to do that
with my underwear. It was why he was so stern with me. He saw it as
his job to keep me pure and chaste. He might not love me, exactly, but
he felt a duty to keep me the little girl he saw me as. It's why he
kept me in a Catholic school. It's why he was so hard on me whenever I
screwed up. It's why he hid profanity from me and tried his best to
always use his manners around me.

So it was one of my brothers. I couldn't sleep until nearly midnight,
and it wasn't because I was thinking of Lee. I was thinking of sweet
Ron, asshole Jason, and overconfident Tyler.

Which of them had done it? Whoever it was, he saw me as a sex-object.
How else could he do that with my panties? Could it be all of them?
The thought made me shudder.

Three horny brothers, I thought. I felt humiliated and trapped and
horny.

I masturbated late that night and felt dirty afterward. Even so, I
fell asleep with a smile when I finally did think of Lee.

He'll keep me safe, I thought as I drifted off. He'll keep my horny
urges sated. He'll protect me from myself.

The next morning I awoke early. Without dressing out of my pajamas I
ran downstairs and checked the driveway. My dad's SUV was gone. He had
said they'd be leaving at 5am and so, as it turns out, they had. I
felt myself smiling from ear to ear as I fixed myself a bowl of
cereal.

Alone. It was so much fun to be alone, so relaxing. I drank a glass of
orange juice and decided to get to work on my chores right away. I was
filled with energy, eager to make the time pass as quickly as possible
so that noon would arrive and Lee would come pick me up. Or come to
stay the weekend with me, maybe. I would definitely ask him when he
called at 11am. Once I finished my breakfast I ran upstairs, changed
into a long-sleeved red turtleneck shirt and my overalls. I was still
so used to not wearing underwear that I didn't think to put any on.

The first thing I did was walk the dogs. I was surprised to find that
only Marshall and Ike were in the kennel. My dad usually only took one
with him to the lake. Oh, well, I thought. It'll be that much easier
to walk them!

They were eager to go for a walk, and eager to see me. I only ever saw
them during my Saturday chores ever since my dad had started loaning
them out for breeding purposes. I knew it was stupid, but the fact
that they were getting regular sex from a real bitch sort of made me
jealous. I forced myself not to think about that as I attached their
leashes, though. I didn't want to start down that path again, the path
to fucking them. My plan was to have Lee satisfy my sexual urges. I
knew he would. I just had to put off my dirty, depraved thoughts long
enough to see him. Only a few hours. I could do it.

The walk was brisk and the dogs set a quick pace. I took them all
around the neighborhood but avoided Jody's street. The last time I had
taken them down that way I'd run across her and she and the rest of my
former friends had been so mean to me. I didn't want to relive the
experience anymore than was necessary.

When we got back to the house I put the dogs in the fenced-in area
attached to the kennel and decided to get myself a bottle of water
before I went about cleaning out the kennel. I hated that weekly chore
more than anything but getting it out of the way now would be a good
idea. As I stood in the kitchen greedily drinking down the bottle of
water, though, I suddenly had an idea.

It was like time had slowed down as the idea entered my head. I was
alone with the dogs. I still had smooth peanut butter hidden upstairs
in my bedroom. And all the thoughts I'd had about Lee during the walk
had made me horny. Well, hornier, actually. I'd awoken horny.

No, I thought to myself. But already the idea was making my pussy
tingle. I stared out the window with the plastic bottle against my
lips while memories of those massive mastiff tongues on my cunt filled
my brain. It'd been so long. Since before I became Daniel's slave.
What if, just one more time...

I inhaled deeply and made up my mind. I was alone so there was no
risk. And I could use Marshall, he was always so gentle. What was the
harm?

Leviticus 18:23, my Catholic brain quoted to me, "A woman must not
offer herself to a male animal to have intercourse with it; this is a
perverse act." There was also the fact that I had promised myself to
wait for Lee, that I didn't need to do anything sick or depraved in
the meantime. I debated the decision a little bit more then said out
loud, "Fuck it!". It felt good to curse, something I never did,
especially not in the house. I giggled as I finished the bottle of
water and headed toward my bedroom.

I trembled during the walk back downstairs, out into the slightly
overcast and chill Autumn day. Yes, a woman shouldn't offer herself to
animals for intercourse. But I didn't want intercourse. I just wanted
a little doggy-tongue on my clit. There was no harm in that, I
rationalized. Besides, a good orgasm would leave me primed for better
ones later, with Lee.

I wasn't thinking logically. I never did when I was horny. The thought
of getting off right now with Marshall made me very horny and I just
couldn't help myself.

One last time, I thought. One last little licking from Marshall.
What's the harm? Later I'll be with Lee, and maybe become his
girlfriend even, and I won't have to resort to any kind of wickedness
again...

When I entered the fenced-in area I had no problem leading my favorite
dog back into the kennel. Maybe he knew what was coming. I felt sort
of bad about that since I definitely wasn't going to let him fuck me.
That would be too much. I couldn't fuck a dog the same day I first
fucked Lee! That would be totally against my plan.

I slid the huge door of the kennel shut and he panted with his tongue
out at me. It was like he knew exactly what was about to happen.

He followed me to my dad's work area and started to whine, a happy
sound, as I undid my overalls after taking off my dirty old work-
boots. I sat down on my dad's chair, relishing the memories of what
that meant, and unscrewed the lid off the peanut butter jar. I was
naked from the waist down. I'd left my red turtleneck shirt on because
it was a bit chilly today. I made a mental note to turn on the
kennel's heater once I finished with Marshall.

After smearing a handful of the peanut butter over my shaved cunt I
urged Marshall over. He didn't take much convincing. Even though it
had been awhile the 175-pound animal seemed to remember what to do. He
began to lick up the butter and I screeched with delight the first
time his rough-tongue rasped across my young twat.

I was in heaven. It'd been so long since I'd had any of the dogs do
this that I'd forgotten how good it could be. My mind began to fill
with memories of being fucked by them, too, but I shook those off. I
would not offer myself for intercourse with them. I couldn't do that,
and I wouldn't. But animals were made to service man, God had given us
dominion over them. If I wanted him to eat me out then I could make
him eat me out and not return the favor. And boy was he eating me out.

I spread my smooth white thighs farther apart and clutched Marshall
behind his big, floppy doggy-ears. He didn't need any encouragement.
The peanut butter was gone already but still there was that constant
lick-lick-licking of his rough tongue, now drinking up my juices. I
groaned and moaned and flipped my head back in ecstasy. Somewhere in
the background I heard an electronic click-click-clicking sound, but
it didn't register at first over the sounds of my own intense
breathing and Marshall's sloppy tongue. I was too lost in the feelings
the large canine was giving me, his tongue lapping against my slit,
slowly pressing my lips apart, squirming at my hole...

It felt so good, so deplorable, so wrong, that I cried out with
pleasure before I heard my brother's words.

"Wow!"

It was Jason. He was standing just a few feet inside the kennel, the
huge door slid open only just wide enough to let him enter. His left
hand was gripping his chin, a look of pure joy and surprise on his
face. In his right hand, which was extended out in my direction, he
held his cell-phone.

He was taking pictures with it.

"NOOOOO!" I cried, even as Marshall's tongue continued to lap against
my womanhood.

Jason laughed, turned, and shot like a bullet out of the kennel. I
watched him go with nothing but dread and panic in my heart. Even in
the midst of that feeling of terror, though, there was still the
tongue licking me, and I was nearing an orgasm, and for just a moment
I almost gave myself over to it.

Then reality hit. Jason, my second oldest brother, had just seen me
being eaten out by one of our father's beloved mastiffs. Why was he
home? Were they all home? Would Tyler and Ron soon enter the kennel?
Would my dad be next? The kennel door was still open. I was still
naked from the waist down. There was still a giant dog's head between
my thighs. I felt mortified and panicked like I never had before in my
life. All the ecstasy I had been feeling seconds before flooded out of
me in an instant.

"Marshall, back!" I cried.

My voice was filled with fear but the dog obeyed after I pushed at his
head and repeated the order. He rested on his haunches, his mighty
tail wagging behind him in the dirt. He was looking up at me
expectantly, probably thinking I'd get on all fours for him now, that
I would become his bitch since I was obviously in heat.

"No!" I cried again, my voice desperate. I jumped to my feet and
nearly fell over. My legs were weak. Somehow, in a blur, I pulled on
my overalls. I didn't bother with the boots. I stumbled out of the
kennel and both Marshall and Ike followed me, whining all the way,
until I reached the gate that led out of the fenced-in area.

"Shoo, shoo!" I stammered at the mastiffs. That kept them back even
though both of their tails were wagging like crazy.

They can smell my pussy, I thought. It was one of a million random
thoughts I had as I entered the house. My heart hammered in my chest
with blind fear until I got to the front window and looked out at the
driveway.

My dad's SUV wasn't there. That was a huge relief, but it only calmed
me down a little. It just suggested that my dad, Tyler, and Ron really
had left for the lake. But what about Jason? He was still here. He was
definitely here.

"No, no, no," I whispered to myself. I was still shaking all over.

I stood there at the window for a few minutes, willing myself to
believe that I'd only imagined Jason had seen me. It was just my
guilty conscience, I told myself. But I couldn't believe it. He really
had been there. I'd seen him. I'd heard the camera-phone.

What am I going to do?!? I wondered.

I was in full-blown crying mode when I got to his bedroom door. First
I tried the doorknob but it was locked, as always. I banged against
the door. "Jason!" I cried. "Please, Jason! Open up!"

"Just a minute!" he yelled back in a cheery voice. "I just need to
finish uploading one more picture..."

"JASON!" I yelled, my voice breaking in panic as I banged on the door
again, "PLEASE! We need to TALK!"

He ignored that. I stood there, outside his bedroom door, trying to
catch my breath in silence. I banged on the door one more time and
whined, "Jason? Please? Jason!"

I heard movement in the room and finally the door opened. There was my
brother, all smug and full of himself, holding the door and the door-
frame with either hand. He said, "Yes?"

At first I didn't know what to say. I stared at him in disbelief and
terror for so long that he made a fake yawning gesture. Finally I
sobbed, "What are you doing here?" Tears were rolling out my red eyes
down my red cheeks. "You ... you..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sis," he said. There was nothing apologetic in his
tone. "This morning I convinced Dad that I wanted to stay home because
I had a hot date planned. Don't know why I never thought of it before
since Dad always says good pussy is hard to find. Anyway, he bought
it, and that's why I'm here. But if you'll excuse me, I have some
pictures I want to share with some friends and family..."

He began to shut the door.

"No!" I stammered. He wouldn't really do it, I thought, he wouldn't
really send out the pictures he'd taken to his friends and God knew
who else. Would he?

"What, Becky?" he asked, pretending not to know what I was so upset
about. "You don't want me to send pictures? Why?"

"Please," I begged. "Can we talk? Please?"

He sighed. "Fine," he said in a sarcastic tone of voice. "But make it
quick." He opened the door for me.

I entered his bedroom cautiously. It'd been a long time since I'd been
inside. Like the rest of my brothers he had a lock on his door,
effectively banning me from entering when they didn't want me inside.
Jason, more than all of my brothers, never wanted me inside.

His bed was nestled against the far wall, in the corner, a large
Metallica poster hanging above. His sheets and comforter were a mess
and it looked like he hadn't made his bed in days or weeks, even. On
the floor were a scattering of magazines, dirty clothes, and other
random junk. It was nothing like my own bedroom. It was dirty and
boyish where mine was orderly and girlish. It sort of smelled weird,
too. But what instantly got my attention was his desk, to my right,
where his computer sat. On the computer monitor I saw an image of me,
frozen with desire as my dad's gentlest dog pressed his snout between
my splayed thighs.

"Oh no, oh no," I said. I began to sob again.

"Who should I send it to first?" Jason said as I whimpered just across
the threshold to his room. He was sitting at his desk. "Maybe my
friends. They'd get a kick out of this. They all say you're hot but I
bet they'd rather have pictures of you naked. This might sort of
disgust them. I mean, damn, Becky, a dog? A few of them might like
that but ... nah, I bet sending it to Dad would be best. They have
Internet access up there at the lake, you know, and I he brought his
laptop..."

My legs gave out. I lost all the air in my lungs. There were a million
things I wanted to say, a million things I wanted to beg, but I was
just too horrified to speak. All I could do was cry.

He really would do it, I realized. In fact, I think I'd known it all
along but had denied it to myself until that moment. He was supposed
to be my brother but Jason had always enjoyed getting me into trouble
just for the sake of it. He'd always loved teasing me and being mean
to me, knowing that if I fought back in any significant way our dad
would take his side. He had always been an asshole to me for reasons
I'd never understood. Now he would, I was positive, make good on his
threat to send the obscene picture of me and Marshall out to the
world.

"What?" Jason said. He was next to me now, and speaking in a gentle
but sneering voice. "Would you rather I keep this a secret?"

That got my attention. I flipped my head up, sending my hair flying
over my back. He was on one knee and gently touching my chin. After a
moment I managed to control my crying. I choked, "Please..."

He grinned. "Come over here," he said. "I want you to see my
favorite."

My tall, 17-year-old brother helped me stand. He had to help me walk
over to his desk. Without protest I allowed him to drop me into his
lap when we got to his chair. "Look, this is the best one," he
whispered in my ear.

The image he was talking about was another one of me being eaten out
by Marshall inside the kennel. This one was less blurry and the angle
revealed a bit more of the action. He zoomed in a little to make his
point very clear. After the zoom all that showed was my mouth wide, my
eyes shut tight. My tiny hands gripping Marshall behind his floppy
ears. My red shirt, its turtleneck hiding my throat. And my legs naked
and mostly wrapped around the giant canine's body. It was clear, in
the zoomed-in image, that I was being eaten out by a dog. And that I
liked it.

"Get rid of it," I managed to sob. "Please!"

He took his time to do so but eventually Jason closed the image.

His arms went around my slender waist. He waited as I continued to
cry, but I stopped once I felt his erection against my ass. He was
wearing jeans and I was in my over-alls but I didn't have on any
underwear. It was definitely a hard-on. His hard-on. My eyes widened
and my heart simultaneously leaped and groaned when I realized there
was a possible way to keep him from sending out the images.

"You're my little sister," he whispered in my ear. "I don't want to
bust you with Dad. But what can I do?"

I gulped. He was sort of grinding his pelvis against me. I said, "Wh--
what do you want?"

His hands left my waist and went instantly up to my breasts.
Involuntarily I leaned back into him. As conditioned as I was to being
submissive I still couldn't believe how instinctively I gave into him.
I never tried to stop him. I didn't even whimper. As horrible as it
was to be groped by my own brother, it was also arousing, too. That
made the already existing tears in my eyes burn as I shut them tight
in shame.

There was also the fact that doing what he wanted me to do might keep
him from sending out the incriminating pictures. When his groping got
really rough and minutes passed in silence I found myself whimpering
again when he slid his hands under the overalls. He was still touching
me through my red shirt but even so, his touch was more urgent now. I
wasn't wearing a bra. I felt everything my brother did and my
whimpering only stopped when I feared it would start to sound like
something else.

He was my brother. My older brother. I was just a girl, a horny and
submissive girl. I was weak, he was strong. I was horny and he was
satisfying those urges. Dark and carnal urges. Urges that Lee could
never satisfy fully, I realized. The outline of Jason's hard cock was
throbbing underneath my tight little ass and I felt my pussy tingle
and it felt sublime. For a moment I lost myself in everything.

He hissed, "I think we can make an arrangement, li'l sister." He
pinched my nipples and I gasped involuntarily.

As soon as I finished gasping, though, a flash of Scripture jumped
into my brain. I'd read it recently, in the Book of Sins Daniel had
given to me. It was Leviticus 18:6 and read, "No one is to approach
any close relative to have sexual relations. I am the Lord." The
realization made me feel awful, and used, and evil, and violated. Yes,
the arousal was definitely still there. And yes, I wanted desperately
to stop Jason from sending out those photos. But what he wanted,
clearly, was incest. It was worse than bestiality as far as I could
tell. I mean, God gave man domain over animals, but He specifically
forbade the act of incest. It was a terrible, awful sin. There was no
way to rationalize that kind of crime in His eyes. Absolutely no way.

He continued to grope me through my shirt and I was on auto-pilot,
grinding myself down on his erection now even as I thought these
things. I was still really worked up from my interrupted session with
Marshall and getting hornier by the second. Knowing how sinful and
terrible it would be to do something with my brother made it that much
hotter in my warped 13-year-old brain. But then I remembered the Bible
again, I remembered those fleeting thoughts of wanting to be pure, I
remembered my fake confession to Father DeGrazia about this very
brother the past Sunday, I remembered the images in my fantasy the
night before of my flesh and blood, my fathers and brothers, jerking
off with my underwear. That last thought made my eyes snap open.

I jumped up from Jason's lap. The action was so sudden he had no
chance to respond. My face was red and teary-eyed but I spun around
and pointed an accusatory finger at him. Without thinking I said, "It
was you! You ... you ... you were the one!"

"Huh?" he asked. The hard-on in his jeans was as obvious as the
confusion on his face.

"You jerked off with my panties! You're the one whose been stealing
them from my room!" I said. I wiped my nose and took a few protective
steps away from him before I continued, "You've ... you've been
masturbating into my underwear, you pervert!"

He looked shocked at first. Then he did the last thing I expected: he
laughed.

His laughter was so long and loud I started to doubt what I had felt
was a certainty a moment before. I crossed my arms protectively across
my chest, even though I was clothed, and chewed on my lower lip.
Unconsciously I squeezed my thighs together and when I realized I was
doing so I stopped, feeling ashamed. I stared down at my naked and
muddy toes and waited for him to stop laughing.

He took so long I was close to just leaving before he said, "Wait,
wait! Someone's been jerkin' it into your panties? You sure?" He
started laughing again, but not as long this time. When I didn't reply
he blew out a deep breath, smiled, and said, "Sis, I don't have the
slightest clue who'd be doing that shit. I doubt anyone is. But you
are one paranoid fucking slut, aren't you?"

"Shuddup!" I yelled, angry now and a bit embarrassed for telling him
about the panties. It definitely wasn't him, I realized, and that made
me feel stupid. But I knew Jason well enough to know when he was
lying. He wasn't.

"Look, look," he said, holding up his hands in a calm-down gesture.
"Maybe someone is. My money'd be on Ron. He's a good kid but I know
for a fact he ain't touched real pussy yet, so maybe he just got too
desperate and wanted to ... I don't know ... get close to a real one?"

His laughter returned and I got angry. "Ron wouldn't do that!"

"He wouldn't?" Jason said, standing from his chair. He took a step
toward me and I flinched. All humor was gone from his voice as he
said, "Think about it. You know Tyler's been getting laid since he was
your age. I bagged my first bitch around that age, too. You think
either of us would need to stoop so low as to jerk off into our own
sister's panties?"

I groaned inwardly. He was right. But then a thought occurred to me.
Feeling courage rising inside me I stared unflinchingly into his eyes
and said, "But you just 'stooped so low' as to grope your own sister's
tits! That's even worse!"

He shrugged. "Not the way I see it. Tits are tits, sis. And it didn't
seem to me like you weren't enjoying it either."

He took a step forward and I took a step back. I felt utterly weak and
vulnerable, like he would lash out at me at any moment, but he took
just the one step. I whispered, "Fine. But ... I wasn't enjoying it,
you know. I was just ... scared. You're my brother, Jason, even if I
did like it I..."

"Shut up a minute," he said, his voice channeling our father's
authority. I froze. "You know you're way too quiet most of the time
except when you really need to be. Like right now. Or the other night
when you told that bullshit story to Dad about falling while
rollerblading."

"Wh-what?" I said.

"Give me a fucking break," he said, rolling his eyes. "Tyler and I at
least knew you were full of shit, rambling on like you were. Dad's too
fucking blind to see it and maybe Ron's too young but don't think you
can fool everybody. You've been acting weird lately and the
rollerblading thing is the least of it. Now I think I know why."

"You ... you do?" I whispered. He was real close to me now but I was
no longer backing away. Guilt was washing over me, and maybe a little
relief, too. Could it be that Jason knew about everything I'd been up
to? It would be awful, of course, but in a way it would be a huge
weight off my shoulders to have one or maybe two of my brothers aware
of what I was really doing. What I'd been going through. Maybe, wasn't
there just a chance, that they could help me? That even Jason, asshole
though he was, could offer me advice? I was his little sister, after
all.

He touched my chin and lifted it until my eyes met his. It seemed as
though he had read my mind when he said, "You've been really horny
lately and you don't know what to do about it. You need help. I
understand. Shit, sis, I went through the same thing when I was your
age. I can help you. If you want."

I tried to blink away more tears but I had an endless supply. For the
briefest of moments I thought I'd been all wrong about him. For the
briefest of moments I dared to believe that Jason, my most hated
brother, actually loved me and wanted to take care of me. For the
briefest of moments hope filled me from head to toe, hope that Jason
was about to make some sort of suggestion or offer some piece of
advice for how to handle one's horniness in an appropriate way. I
managed to choke out, "Y-yes, please ... I need help!"

He smiled. "Then go take a shower. While you do, take real good care
of that pussy of yours. Get rid of all that dog spit. Come back here,
after, and I'll help you really good."

He let go of my chin and without a thought I turned and walked toward
the door. My mind was numb but my feet moved on their own. I was
almost to the hallway when he said, "Don't bother wearing anything
when you come back, sis. Next time I see you you'd best be naked."

I froze at his words. My mind cleared up somewhat. I turned in place
at the doorway, my heart filling now with suspicion and dread. I said,
"Uhm ... what does being naked have to do with anything? I mean ...
how are you going to help me, Jason?"

He grinned and there was an evil in his eyes I'd seen before but not
from him. He said, "I'm going to make it so you never need a fucking
dog again to get off. I'm going to show you how a man's tongue is so
much more skilled."

Once again, near the very same place as before, I collapsed to my
knees and fell to my side near his open door. I started to cry as the
ramifications of his words rattled about inside my confused young
head. He was beside me in an instant, though, and said, "Don't be such
a baby! I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm just gonna teach you why doin' it
with dogs is sick and why doin' it with men is awesome..."

"You're my brother!" I sobbed. To my surprise he was holding me and
petting my hair as I blubbered. "The Bible, Jason, incest is sin! It's
wrong! We can't do it, we can't, please don't make me, please... !"

"Shh, calm down, sis, calm down," he whispered. "It's just oral.
That's not incest. It's not like we'd be fucking. You know what oral
is, right? What you were doing with the dog?"

He was talking to me like I was a baby and I didn't mind. I sniffed
and said, "Yes, I ... of course, but ... you're not going to fuck me?"

He laughed. "You're my sister!" he said. "Fuck no I'm not gonna fuck
you. I'm just going to punish you a little, then show you heaven. But
only with my tongue."

I didn't like the sound of the word "punishment" very much but I
pushed that away. The news that I wouldn't be having actual full-on
sex with my older brother was too good to believe. I said, "Really?
Just ... just that?"

"Becky!" he said in disbelief. I wasn't sure but it almost sounded
fake. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, though, when he
continued, "I just want to take care of you. Teach you a few things.
Show you why having a dog do it to you is stupid. Once you see how
good real oral is you'll never go back to no fucking dog, I promise."

I sniffed. I'd been eaten out by Daniel before, of course, but I
didn't want him to know that. In a voice as soft as cashmere I said,
"But ... but you want me to come back naked?"

"Can't do it clothed," he shrugged. "Plus, like I said, tits are tits.
I'd really like to see yours. I sort of feel like I deserve to since
I'm giving you a huge break, not telling on you and all. And for
helping you."

I considered that. "And the pictures?"

"I'll punish you for that on Dad's behalf. He doesn't ever have to
find out about that shit," he said. He actually sounded sincere and
reassuring. At least I thought he did. He reached a hand down to me
after standing up and helped me do the same. "Deal?"

There was no other option. "Okay," I whispered.

"Good," he said.

I walked out of his room after that and went straight to the bathroom.

The shower felt quick and it wasn't until the water turned cold that I
realized I'd been washing and scrubbing myself all over for far too
long. Without a thought in my confused little head I'd washed and re-
washed every inch of my skin, going back to my worked up pussy many
times, too many times. Jason had told me to pay attention there but
his order had almost made me cum. I resisted each time, though. Each
impending orgasm made me feel dirty about what I was about to do with
my older brother so I just pushed away my carnal urges and moved to
another area of my young body.

Only when the cold water rained down upon my hair did I realize I
still hadn't shampooed and conditioned. I did that under frigid
streams of water. Even so it felt good, rejuvenating in a way. The
cold water made my nipples hard and my mind clear. It washed away the
tears from my reddened eyes and I even opened my mouth to drink some
of it when I heard pounding on the bathroom door.

"Almost done!" I yelled.

I dried quickly. I had to get back to Jason's room soon for punishment
and ... help. Help meant he would eat me out. My own brother. The
thought made me shudder even more than the cold water had but I didn't
care. I was desperate in so many ways at that point. Desperate to get
off. Desperate to be saved. Desperate that Jason could do both.

He was just going to eat me out. No sex, he had promised. That wasn't
so bad, I told myself. The Bible never talked about oral sex in any
real or certain way. The whole incest thing, that was referring to the
literal definition of sex: penetration. He wasn't going to enter me.
He would just eat me out. He would show me that a man could do it
better than a dog. I choked back a sob when I realized, with shame,
that my now dried pussy was already getting wet again with my own
juices.

There was banging on the door again as I did my best to dry my hair.
"Tick tock, Becky!" Jason yelled from beyond.

"Just a minute!"

My hair was still really damp but I knew I was officially out of time.
I took my towel, wrapped it around my head, and took a deep breath. I
looked at my reflection: I looked small, and pink, and cute. Even my
little frown looked cute on my face. There was no time left to stare
so I left the bathroom, walked down the hall, and into Jason's
bedroom.

"Took long en--," he started to say when I entered. He froze in mid-
sentence and whistled when he saw my naked body. He whistled. "Damn,
Becky, you look ... well, you look damn hot. But lose the towel."

"My hair's still drying," I whispered. I was trembling all over and
felt both exhilarated and terrified that I was naked in front of my
brother. For some reason, the towel in my hair felt like a little
protection. I didn't want to lose it.

"I don't care."

I sighed and looked up. He was staring at me with a dangerous look of
lust in his eyes. I thought about protesting further but didn't.
Without another word I reached up and unwrapped the towel from around
my head. I dropped it to the floor as my damp blonde hair fell around
my cute 13-year-old face. I stared down my body, past my tits with
their pointy little nipples, and at my now cute looking toes. I felt
myself to begin to blush.

Without the hair towel I felt totally naked in front of Jason, my 17-
year-old brother. And I couldn't quite understand how that made me
feel.

"You're damned hot," he said. He was sitting on his bed and stating
fact in a blunt voice. "Turn around for me."

I did. When I was looking at him again he was smiling. He said. "Okay,
sis, first we do the punishment. How do you think Dad would punish
you, if I showed him those pictures of you and Marshall?"

My whole body went red. "He'd ... I ... please!" I said. I couldn't
imagine what my dad would do to me. It would be awful, though, of that
I was sure. The mere mention of him almost sent me into a panic
attack.

"Jesus, don't start crying again," he said in a mean tone of voice. He
let me calm down a little bit. "He'd spank you at least, right?
Right?"

I was still trying to calm my breathing and prevent myself from
freaking out. I managed to nod, though, at his question. I noticed
that he seemed to enjoy my heaving chest and that gave me a different
kind of thrill. Being a sex object to my brother ... hadn't I
masturbated while fantasizing about that just the day before?

"Thought so," he said. "So I'll give you a spanking. Come over here."

Just a spanking, I thought. That was a punishment I was more than used
to. As embarrassing as it was to see the look in his eyes as he soaked
in my naked body, the body that was his own little sister's, I
couldn't help but feel relieved. After all the things Daniel had put
me through a spanking would be nothing. I'd been getting those my
whole life. I walked toward him, bashfully but with purpose, and got
ready to lean over his waist.

"Whoa, wait, sis," he said. "Not like that. Is that how Dad spanks
you? Over his lap?"

I nodded, feeling dumb. "Y--yeah..."

"Nah, that's lame. Get up here, on the bed. Like a dog. Like a little
bitch. Sort of fits for the crime, right?" He chuckled.

I continued to blush but I followed his commands. When he told me to
keep my knees together as I knelt forward on my elbows I did. When he
stood up and started to play with my dangling titties, I bit my
tongue. I was well beyond wondering if he would fondle me some more. I
just wanted to get this over with. It was taking all my energy not to
cry and even more of my spent reserves to keep from giving in to my
horniness. I tried thinking of scripture while he ran his hands over
my body, reciting prayers and Psalms in my head as he lightly touched
my breasts, my ass, my thighs.

The touching went on for several minutes and I could feel myself
getting wet. I used every last ounce of willpower I had to keep from
giving in to my brother's light caress but it was a losing battle.
When the spanking started I was almost glad, even though it came so
suddenly that the pain made me cry out more in surprise than in pain.

"Aww, sweet little sister doesn't like that?" he whispered after the
first blow had landed. I didn't dare to respond. It was hard enough
keeping my true feelings under control. "You know, I've been wanting
to do this to you for years, Becky. I always thought Dad was way too
lenient with you. Just a few spanks now and again, that's all his
precious little girl ever gets. Me and Tyler, especially, got a whole
lot worse growing up, bitch."

His second blow really was painful, but his words were surprising.
There was a bitterness in his tone of voice, a sound of hatred mixed
with jealousy, that explained a lot. The reaons my brothers, Tyler and
Jason most of all, always seemed to resent me. Dad had never hit me in
the face, after all, or beat my body black-and-blue with a belt. For
some reason it had never occurred to me that they might find that
unfair, and hate me for it. Spankings weren't nearly so bad in
comparison, after all.

Jason sure as hell was trying to make sure this one was, though. His
next few blows were so violent tears streamed down my cheaks. At the
other then, though, I was also getting wet. Once again pain was
turning me on. I was on the verge of losing control over myself
entirely.

"Holy shit, sis, don't tell me you shave!" he laughed. He'd paused the
spanking to move his position so that he was kneeling behind me, fully
clothed, and gripping one of my reddened cheeks. He was pulling my ass
cheeks apart and apparently had noticed for the first time I was bald
between my legs. "Don't tell my you haven't grown any pubes yet?"

"I ... trim," I managed to croak. He responded by slapping my ass
several more times. I began to cry harder. He was being merciless.

He beat the hell out of my ass for a few more seconds after that. Then
he hissed into my ear, "You ever give a blowjob, sis-slut?"

I cried from both the pain and his vulgarity. Without thinking about
it I lied and said, "N--no!"

He slapped me again, hard, then said, "Too bad."

After that I just blubbered and moaned and struggled not to enjoy the
beating he gave my poor young butt. There was a part of me that wanted
this punishment and was getting off on it but I resisted until the
end. The pain was horrible but I'd gone through worse; the pleasure
was dirty and intense but I'd been through better. So I told myself,
at least. The fact is, having my brother dole out this punishment was
more intoxicating and horrible and confusing than anything I had ever
endured. He was my older brother, and he was hurting me, and
humiliating me, and giving me such terribly perverse pleasure all at
the same time.

Eventually I lost the power to stay on all fours. I bit into his
comforter rather than cry out anymore for fear that the cries would
betray my arousal. He got off the bed shortly after that and just
stood at the side of it, staring at me. When he didn't speak or resume
the beating I finally collapsed onto my stomach all the way and turned
my head toward the wall, away from him. He must have watched me sob
for nearly five minutes before I lost the energy to continue. After I
was quiet for about a minute I felt his hand on my sore ass and I
sighed.

"Part of you liked that, didn't you?" he whispered as he rubbed my
ass. "You soaked my sheets with your pussy juice."

"No," I lied.

"Whatever. Roll over so I can give you your reward."

I didn't hesitate.

My eyes were shut and I was breathing deep. When he said, "Spread
'em," I once again complied without a word. After all, I was exhausted
and in pain but more than that I was horny. Now would come the
promised oral sex and I had no doubt I would get off right away. I
couldn't wait for a tongue to be in between my legs. Who cared if the
tongue belonged to one of my older brothers? The way Jason had made it
sound, he was an expert. At that moment I really needed an expert
tongue down there. I needed to get off, to enjoy an orgasm to mask the
pain I'd just gone through.

He was on top of me before I realized he was naked. He must have
undressed while I'd been sobbing. At first I didn't mind, figuring
he'd eventually wanted to disrobe, too. He'd asked me about blowjobs.
Maybe he wanted me to give him one. I didn't care. I just wanted to
get off. A good orgasm would clear up my head. It would make me feel
good. I was desperate for either feeling at that point.

But he was on top of me, I realized, and that didn't make sense. He
was supposed to eat me out. One of his hands was pressing down into my
right breast, flattening the fat little boob against my small body,
and I could feel his long naked legs between my own spread ones. The
pressure he was putting on my tit was great and when I finally opened
my eyes I saw a smile on his face. I started to put things together
but it was too late.

"Jason, what ... what?" I gasped. I felt the tip of his dick probing
around at the entrance to my cunt. "Y-you said ... oral! You
promised!"

"I know," he sighed. "But I'm not walking away with nothing, and you
said you don't know shit about giving a good blowjob, so I'll take
this instead..."

My eyes widened in fear. Scripture flashed through my head. I saw
images of Hell as described to me since I was in Kindergarten. "Jason!
It's ... no, NO! PLEASE! INCEST IS SINNNNNNNNN!"

I cried out the last word because that's when his cock pressed
relentlessly forward into my wet 13-year-old pussy.

At first it felt so good that I could only gasp soundlessly and let my
young body tense up. My brother had a good sized dick and it sliced
into me like Moses through the Red Sea. I shuddered as a small but
intense orgasm took me before he'd even gotten all the way in. That
passed quickly, though, and I started to groan and struggle against
him once the tiny piece of pleasure was dwarfed by the reality of what
was happening.

I was being raped by my own brother. A loud, panicked shriek escaped
my lips and I began to fight him with all the strength I had left.

"You like it, sis," he hised into my ear. Now that he was all the way
inside me he was using his hands to grasp my wrists, holding them
still over my head as I struggled to resist him. "I can tell ... ungh,
I can tell you, you do..."

I whimpered and fought and kicked my legs but I was just a small child
compared to him. He rutted his cock in and out of me quickly at first,
seeming to enjoy the way every time he penetrated me I would cry all
the louder. He only slowed down when something incredible happened.

First, I stopped resisting. There was no way I could stop him but that
wasn't the only reason I gave up. The real reason was because my body
was responding to his fucking like it never had before. A sort of
warmth was spreading across me, an enjoyable and indescribable
pleasure flowing from my pussy to my tits, from my mouth to the tips
of my toes. I was getting fucked by my brother, my own flesh and
blood, an insanely evil and deplorable act. But rather than continue
screaming for him to stop, I added one word.

"Don't!" I cried.

He slowed down his fucking. "Don't ... what, sis? What?"

I breathed heavily and stared up at him, a look of sheer carnality in
my eyes. "Stop..."

"Don't stop?" he asked, slamming his cock back inside my body and
making me groan with pleasure.

"Don't ... stop... ," I said again.

That became my mantra for the next ten or so minutes. "Don't ...
stop," I whimpered. "Don't stop!"

He didn't. I kept my eyes locked on his and he had an urgent, nasty
little smile on his face while he slowly pounded his cock in and out
of my twat. Each time he crashed his dick into me I moaned and said
the words again and I never took my eyes off his unless he was looking
away. Knowing that I was completely his he began to use his hands to
squeeze my tits and that only added to the pleasure I was
experiencing. I came hard once, twice, three times as he rutted me
like that. Never had the missionary position been so nasty and erotic
and pleasurable and my dirty teenage mind was trying to be a sponge,
trying to soak in every last part of this experience. I draped my
hands around his neck and pulled him to me, wanting to kiss him, but
he crushed his chest against my face instead. Rather than feeling
rejected I loved it, and I licked his naked skin, tasting his sweat
and shuddering as my brother continued to fuck me with slow,
deliberate thrusts.

It was amazing.

"I'm ... fuck, fuck, Becky, you're too fucking tight ... I'm gonna..."
he said after nearly twenty minutes had passed.

I was ready for it and wanting it and I pulled his neck down, harder,
but he resisted. Instead he arched his back, breaking my embrace, and
withdrew his cock from my hungry pussy.

"No! Jason, don't stop, don't..." I begged.

"UNGH!" he groaned as his cum spurt out of his cock, thick globs of
white goo that coated my belly.

I was disappointed he hadn't cum inside me. When I realized that I
felt a little foolish, but more than that I was still ramped up, still
horny and desperate for more. Confusion settled over my mind, though,
when he said, "Get ... get out..."

"What?" I breathed. I was still underneath him, his warm cum forming a
little pool around my tiny belly button.

"Get out of here... ," he said, rolling off of me, finally. He sat on
the edge of his bed, catching his breath, and glared at me. "Get the
fuck out! I need to think. Get out!"

Feeling strangely satisfied and numb, I did as I was told.

When I got to my room I stood, naked, in front of my mirror.

My hair was a complete mess. My lithe young body was sweaty. Jason's
cum was dripping down my belly, the long thick gobs of my brother's
sperm inching down toward my pelvis. I stared into my own eyes and
felt a small smile form on my lips. For some reason I felt good.
Great, in fact. I had no idea why but I didn't care enough to wonder.
The moment is what I wanted to enjoy, so I did.

I started to rub the cum into my skin and I shuddered at the feeling.
Soon I was using both hands to do it, rubbing it deep into the soft
skin of my tummy, my breasts, and then reaching around to do the same
with my butt. I turned and stared at it and sighed at the sight. It
was bright red, shiny now from the sperm-moisturizer, and would
definitely end up black and blue. Even that thought didn't bring me
down. Instead my nipples got hard and I started to move my hands
around my hips, wanting to touch myself, wanting to cum again. I only
stopped because I suddenly remembered my Book of Sins.

My hand trembled as I updated it. Sitting on my bed, I added an entry
under the "Incest" page, writing in Jason's name and the date. I
stared at that for a moment and wondered why it turned me on so much.
On impulse I then flipped the pages to "Bestiality" and updated it as
best I could recall. I'd never written in the category before because
I'd never admitted to Daniel that I'd done it. It felt good, though.
When I flipped the pages again to "Interracial" I frowned at the out-
of-context Bible quote, but dutifully filled in my experiences with
the Four-Oh Crew just the same. When I was done I felt a pleasant
flutter in my tummy. My Book of Sins was now 100% up to date. I
started to leaf through the pages and I wondered if I might be the
most sinful girl in the entire world. The thought gave me mixed
emotions but I pushed away all negativity and embraced the depraved
horniness I also felt.

"What are you doing?"

I hadn't noticed Jason enter the room. I stared at him for a long
moment. I was sitting on my bed, naked, my golden-covered book in my
hands. I closed it, tilted my head to one side, and said, "Just
reading my prayers."

He shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "Look, Becky, there's a few things I
need to make clear."

He started to pace back and forth. He had dressed in a white t-shirt
and boxers, nothing else, and I had to struggle not to smile at his
obvious nervousness. I wondered if he'd been nervous earlier and I
just hadn't noticed, freaked out as I was. Maybe he had been. Whatever
the case, it was nice to see him acting confused and anxious now.

"First of all, you're not going to tell anyone about what just
happened," he said. His voice was hard, commanding, but forced. "No
one. Not Dad, not Ron or Tyler, not your friends, not the fucking nuns
at your school. You hear me? No one!"

I nodded. "I know," I said.

He paused at my words. "Good. Good," he finally said. Gaining
confidence he continued, "And we're going to do it again, too. In
secret. Got that? I'm going to fuck you whenever I want, any night I
want. So, like, sleep naked from now on. Yeah, sleep naked. If you
wake up with a cock in your pussy you know you'll enjoy it so don't
try to stop me. And don't try to deny you won't like it. Don't try and
act like you didn't like what we just did."

"I won't," I said, matter-of-fact.

Again he paused. My cool, casual demeanor seemed to be throwing him
off. "Good," he said slowly. "Because, you know, it's just sex. You
liked it, and I liked it, and who cares if you're my kid sister,
right?"

"Right," I said with a slight smile.

He nodded. "Another thing, you need to get on the pill. Don't worry
about getting pregnant this time 'cause you can't the first time. Uh,
that was your first time, right?"

I nodded. Might as well keep up the lie, I figured, so I didn't tell
him I was already on the pill.

He grinned at that. "Nice. Too bad your cherry was gone. Did you take
it yourself?" After I nodded he said, "Good, I'd hate to think one of
the fucking dogs licked it away. Oh, that reminds me, no more messing
around with them, okay? That's seriously sick, Becky."

I wanted to ask him why incest wasn't any sicker, but I just nodded
instead.

"The last thing is this. I'm not going out like I'd planned to this
weekend anymore. Instead you and me are going to hang out and fuck
whenever I feel like it. I might even spank you some more, you seemed
to dig that and lord knows you deserve some more punishment," he said.
"I mean, Jesus, Becky! I've never even heard of anyone as slutty as
you! I practically raped you and you got off more than any girl I've
ever been with, so..."

"No," I said.

He looked confused. "No, what? That I raped you?"

"No," I continued, "Not that. But you did rape me and even though I
ended up enjoying it, Jason, you did rape me. I don't care about that,
though. What I was saying no to was the whole thing about me staying
with you this weekend. I'm not doing that. I'm hanging out with a
friend today and I'm going to stay out as late as I want and you're
going to lie to Dad for me when he asks what time I got home."

He looked stunned for a moment, then he laughed. "Bullshit!" he said.
"If I say you're going stay here, you're going to fucking stay here!
Or..."

"Or what?" I snapped. I stood up from my bed and marched toward him.
Thrusting an index finger in his face I said, "Tell Dad? Tell him
what? That you wanted me to stay here as your little sex slave for the
weekend but I went out instead?"

His nervousness from earlier was gone and he was getting angry. I was
a whole lot angrier though and I went on before he could say anything,
"Or are you going to threaten me with those pictures again? Is that
it? Because let me tell you something. Dad won't give two shits about
those pics if you force me to call the cops and report you for what
you just did to me. Heck, I'll even add a few lies to the truth. The
first lie will be that you forced me to do that with Marshall, that
you dragged me to kennel and put the dog between my legs. Who do you
think the cops will believe? Who Dad'll believe?"

"He's never taken your side when we argue, you stupid bitch!" he
yelled.

I laughed. "Yeah, that's true! But when the police examine me and find
out I was raped, and when they find your semen inside me and arrest
you, do you think the situation will be anything like one of our
'whose turn is it to watch TV' arguments? Huh?"

He was starting to look nervous again. I saw doubt and, yes, fear in
his eyes. I didn't know where all my new found strength and confidence
was coming from, but I was on a roll and didn't stop. I said, "They'll
arrest you, Jason. You're 17 and they're try you as an adult for
raping your little sister! Those pictures of me and Marshall will be
used in court against you, not against me! I mean, what kind of
brother takes pictures of his sister in a situation like that? I'll
tell them you made me do it and they'll believe me. You know they
will."

He swallowed hard and finally broke eye-contact with me. "Fine, fine.
You can go out. But the rest of what I said stands."

He was trying to take back the upper hand and I let him. I couldn't
help it. I said, "Yes, of course."

"Even about the sex?" he said.

I swallowed. "Yes," I nodded. It felt good to cave in even though just
seconds earlier I'd been in his face and demanding. It was too strange
and weird for me to be the one in charge, the one making the demands.
I wasn't used to it and even though I was proud that I had, it was
also strangely comfortable to back off and let him be in charge once
more. Even so I added, "But I won't be your slave this weekend, Jason,
I won't. I won't ever be your slave. If you want to fuck me and I'm
available, sure. But you can't just order me around."

He laughed. "Sure I can," he said.

I was surprised by the sudden renewal of his confidence. "What?" I
asked.

He reached out and boldly groped my tits. I made no move to resist
him. He said, "I can do it because you like it. And I can threaten not
to fuck you anymore if you don't behave for me."

"No," I breathed. My body was beginning to tremble at my brother's
touch. Both his hands were carefully massaging either of my breasts
and I unconsciously pressed them into him.

"Yes," he whispered back. "Yesterday I thought you were just my goody-
two-shoes little sister, but now I know the truth."

"Wh ... what's the ... truth?" I whispered. He was pushing me back,
gently, and I was letting him. After a few short backwards steps he
pushed me onto my bed. He kept one hand on one of my tits, squeezing
it, massaging it, as he pulled his boxers off with the other.

"When you're not around Dad always tells us that there are two type of
women in the world: women made for marrying, like Mom, and women meant
for fucking. He says the fucking kind are born sluts and you can just
do what you want with them and not feel bad after 'cause they don't
deserve anything but cock. He says Mom was one of the rarer kind, the
marrying kind, the good kind. He always says you're like her, and I
always thought he was right, but he wasn't. No, Becky, you're just a
slut."

"No," I whispered, but one of his hands was between my legs and he was
pressing his fingers into me and I moaned with pleasure. He continued
to do that, massaging my right tit and my pussy at the same time, and
I squirmed with desire and stared wide eyed at the ceiling. Then,
abruptly, he stopped.

"Fine, then," he said, getting up off the bed.

"Wh ... what?" I asked, confused and breathless. He was pulling his
boxers on and heading back to the door.

He stopped and turned back to me. "You said 'no', Becky. If you're not
a slut then it wouldn't be right for me to mess with you." He had an
arrogant little smile on his face.

"No, please," I said, not thinking. "I ... I am."

"You're what?" he said.

Swallowing hard I said, "I'm a slut, Jason. Please!"

He smiled in triumph. He'd beaten me by proving his point: he could
always just threaten to deny me sex to get me to do what he wanted. I
felt a cold thrill of shame course through my body at the realization.
Once again I felt dirty and ashamed but, as always, I was too horny to
do anything about it. My confidence from earlier was completely gone
and I knew that if he demanded me to stay the weekend with him as his
slave again, I'd do it. He'd won.

"Get over here," he said.

Without a word I slipped off my bed and walked to him. He told me to
get on my knees and I did and when he told me to take off his boxers I
did that as well. He said, "I'm going to teach you how to give a
blowjob, little sister, since you're just a little slut. You are,
aren't you?"

"Yes," I said. It was all I could do not to touch his cock: it was
right in front of me and I felt a strange sense of pride that my
brother was so well endowed.

"Say it," he said, "tell me you're a little slut and then take my cock
into your mouth."

"I'm just a little slut, Jason," I whispered. Without pausing I then
gently gripped his dick in one hand and put it in my mouth.

I did my best to pretend that I didn't know what I was doing. I tried
to remember the first time I'd sucked off Daniel, tried to remember
how awkward and unskilled I was. It worked at first, forcing Jason to
tell me to use my tongue more, to keep my mouth wide, to take it in
deeper. Eventually, though, my horniness overtook me when I saw my
reflection in my dressing mirror across the room: me, on my knees, my
older brother's cock in my mouth. I lost control and completely went
to town on his dick, then, deep-throating it and choking on it until
my face turned purple. I bobbed my head back and forth, then slowed
down and used just my tongue around the head of his shaft. I kept my
mouth wet and juicy for him and dragged my lips across his dick,
loving his taste, my big brother's taste.

"You're ... a fucking ... natural," he said several times. He kept his
hands on his hips, never touching my head except to hold back my hair.
He, too, was enjoying the reflection in the mirror and seemed to know
that I was watching, too.

After about ten minutes of dick sucking he'd had enough. "Get on the
bed, all fours," he ordered me.

I was amazed at his endurance and once again felt proud that my
brother was such a good fuck. Giving orders came natural to him and
even after using all my blowjob tricks he was still rock hard and
hadn't cum. I crawled onto my bed, winced at the pain in my butt, and
got ready for another fucking.

"This is called doggy-style," he said.

"OH!" I cried as his cock entered my hot, throbbing pussy from behind.

His hands came around my chest and cupped my hanging breasts as he
rammed me, hard, over and over in desperate, brutal strokes. I came
when he squeezed my tits so hard they felt like they would burst and
he seemed to know it. "Have a good cum ... sis ... have a good cum?"

"Y-yes," I moaned.

"Tell me ... ugh, tell me you're a good slut ... tell me you like,
ugh ... fucking your brother!"

"I like fucking my brother!" I cried.

It continued like that for nearly half an hour and I never got tired
of it. He told me to call him by name, to call myself a slut, to
promise I'd do anything he wanted, and I obeyed him each time. He
never slowed down in his fucking and I was amazed at how long he
lasted. I'd always heard that teenage boys couldn't last but
apparently some could.

Near the end he stopped groping my tits and started slapping my ass.
The painful cries I made were mixed in with delirious pleasure and he
laughed at that. "My little sister, ugh, fuck! Such a little slut!" he
said before telling me to beg him for more.

"Slap me ... harder, Jason!" I sobbed. "P-punish me, fuck, oohhhh!"

He laughed and laughed and fucked me harder and harder, all the while
slapping my small round butt that had already received such a
punishment earlier. When he finally came he did so inside me this time
and the feeling of his warm seed squirting up into my womb made me cry
out with pleasure.

It got so quiet after that that all I could hear was the hammering of
my heart and a soft, squishy sound as Jason pulled out of me. He got
off the bed and I fell to my side, staring at him as he pulled his
boxers back on.

"Now you know your place, sis," he declared. He wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand and said, "Go hang out with your fucking friend.
Just remember the rules or you'll never get a fucking like that ever
again. Got it?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He left me as I basked in the glorious shame and pleasure of post-
orgasmic bliss. After enjoying it for a while I sat up, reached to my
night stand, and grabbed my Book of Sins.

I really wanted to keep it up to date.


**End of Part Eight**

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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