Tags: teen, incest, voyeurism, stalking, blowjob, assplay, impregnation, feet

Author’s note: all characters are 18 or older.

– Juliette de Lorsange

“So you impregnated your sister after banging her once? Unlucky.”

Luck isn’t real. Luck is the drooling idiot god of cowards who don’t want their actions to have consequences. Women don’t get pregnant because of luck but because a sperm travelled up a fallopian tube and fertilized an egg from the ovary.

Also, I did not have sex with Cailee once before the positive pregnancy test. There were other occurrences.

* * *

Ten days before…

Plap! Plap! Plap!

“UHHH!”

My cock churned and squelched at the bottom of Cailee’s hot slurping cunt. My balls rose, preparing to deluge her eggs in cum.

“TAKE MY LOAD, YOU WHORE!” I screamed into her stunned face, hilting myself inside her guts. A chill rushed through me. My penis surged, thrashing in a huge rubbery spasm.

Then huge blasts of sperm pulsed into her, splattering out in womb-defiling torrents. You could actually hear my cumshots pounding home between her legs, as I drowned her cervix in a barrage of thick genetic sludge.

Splorg! Splorg! SPLOORRRCH!“

I gripped her wrists, pinning her against the bed, screaming obscenities as I dropped my hips into her again and again and again, jetting powerfully with each thrust.

“CUNT! SLUT! WHORE!” I yelled as I pounded my sister to the mattress. “GET CREAMPIED, YOU WORTHLESS BITCH!”

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I spat down into her face. She couldn’t escape. Her legs were propped up against my shoulders—they kicked in terror, thick and white and delicious in her girl school stockings—as I bred her like a pedigree broodmare. “THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE GOOD FOR, YOU RETARDED CUM-DUMPSTER! UGGGHH! TAKE IT!”

My prick spat again and again. This was turning into one of the bigger loads I’d hosed into her over the past few days. I blew a dozen ropes into my sister, dribbled in her violated snatch for about twenty seconds, then pulled out of her with a grotesque squelch.

BLORP!

I collapsed onto Cailee’s slack body, disgusted at the words clinging like vomit to my mouth.

“Cai,” I asked into her sweaty shoulder, “are you sure you want me to call you names when we do it?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” A rebellious little smile curved across her face, like a slowly spreading campfire.

Insults. Abuse. More games to play, more masks to wear, more ways to not be these people and to not be doing these sick, horrific acts. Layers of irony, quarantining us from the truth. Yet the truth, that fucking bitch, always finds a way to infect you in the end, doesn’t it? And when it does, it’s the bubonic plague.

I do not know if guilt was her constant companion in those days, as it was mine.

I kissed her. “It feels gross. Why do you like it?”

“I like it when you act like a jerk.” My sister’s lips pulled and jerked mine around like puppets as she spoke. “When you act like someone else.”

“Do you pretend you’re someone else when I’m doing it?”

She hesitated. Which gave me the answer. “…Is that okay?”

I did not answer…but not because I did not know what to say.

Who are we? My soul felt glutted and sick, like it had eaten a cake far too big and too rich for it. This is awful. I’m her brother! She’s my sister! We’d be horrible people for even fantasizing about having sex…never mind actually doing it!

But then I saw that her smile had changed. Mischief lit it up from the inside.

I gazed into the sunny, simple face of a girl who was protected and safe and who could afford to smile. I had done that. Her brother’s arms were over her body, and his sperm was leaking out of her pussy, and all was right with the word.

“I love you, Cailee,” I said, pressing our lips together.

Her tongue darted out, wriggling through both sets of lips like an escape artist, a hot impossibility that was suddenly inside my mouth, tracing its insides. I shivered, and started to get erect again.

“I like you, Kyle,” she said, when the tongue-kissing stopped, and I mounted her again. Time for another round.

Cailee had never told me she loved me.

For weeks, she’d allowed me to savage, violate, defile, pollute, and wreck her body. Yet despite all the boundaries she let me cross, there was one she enforced.

I like you, Kyle. Love was the one stronghold I had not conquered.

I pounded my cock into her pussy. Making her moan and cry as I drilled her into the bedsprings, confident that this final castle of the heart would fall in time. Every other one had.

* * *

Nine days prior.

“CAILEE!” Her bedroom door shook beneath a hammering fist. “Are you in there?”

“Hi, dad!” my sister shouted, sounding flustered. “Come in!”

Mark Spaeny opened the door…

…to find his beautiful daughter in bed, lying on her stomach, with sheets pulled up to the level of her armpits. Her shoulders were bare and sweaty. She was reading a book.

Mark stepped forward, scowling beneath a half-inch thank-you-for-your-service crewcut.

“I heard noises coming from your room. Sounded like you were screaming.

“You probably heard Jon, raging his tits off in Call of Duty. Pretty sure he was dropping N-bombs. I keep telling you to take his Xbox away.”

“The screams came from your room, Cai.”

“Sound is weird in this house.” Cailee’s eyes flicked everywhere. She looked flustered.

Mark stepped closer. “…Why is your face so red?” He sniffed the air. “…And what’s that smell? Cai, what are you doing in here?” Then his eyes narrowed. “Where’s Kyle?”

She shrugged innocently. “Out drinking with Jay. I haven’t seen him all day.”

He stared at her sweaty, guilty-looking face. “Cai, if something’s wrong, you can talk to me. Okay? We don’t keep secrets in this house.”

She flashed him a grin and a thumbs up. “Sure! Thanks! No secrets! Everything’s fine and nothing’s wrong! I love you sooo much, dad!”

He reacted to this semicoherent babble with a stare. Then he sighed, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

I stepped out of the closet—naked and afraid. I flopped onto the bed beside her, my soft cock going slap against my inner thigh.

“How did he hear us?” I shuddered. “Your dad has Chris Kyle sniper instincts.”

“We were probably being louder than we thought.” She flicked a sweaty cowlick of hair from her eyes. Her voice was low. Had shame stamped on it like a bruise. “Was it a mistake to say that you’re out with Jay? Dad knows his number. He’s probably dialing to check my story right now.”

“Jay will back me up. Bro code.”

I peeled back the bedsheets, which stuck to her ass thanks to the sperm I’d hosed over her lower back in the moments before her dad had barged in.

“You’re a fucking douche, Kyle,” she sulked, lips in a pretty pout. “Quit pulling out! I need you to do it inside. That’s the only way I’ll be protected from the disease.”

“I was trying to write my name on your ass in cum,” I admitted.

“Be still my heart!” She rolled her eyes. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Yeah, don’t I just?” I gripped my shaft, planted myself at my sister’s cock socket, and sunk deep inside.

Cailee sighed happily, spread her legs around me, arched her back, and let me fill her cunt like she was a Christmas stocking.

I dug my eight and a half inches in, stretching her out massively. Her ass quivered, its abundant flesh jiggling. Her whole body tightened with anticipatory delight around my dick.

“Remember,” she gasped out. “Inside!”

* * *

8 Days Prior

It wasn’t easy, humping my sister around a dozen prying family members who were just dying to catch me.

Life finds a way. Even when it shouldn’t.

We had many near misses. Many close calls.

Like the time her dad found a towel soaked with Cailee’s squirt, and blamed an innocent housecat for piddling on it.

Or the time Cailee’s mom put her on communion prep duty at church. Cailee tricked the dumb girl in her youth group into taking on the task—”hey, mom’s got a job for you…—and then we spent the hour-long service fucking on the chapel altar. I dumped three loads into my sister with eighty churchgoers sitting in the assembly hall outside, completely oblivious to the incestuous debauchery happening beyond the next wall.

A carved statue of Jesus looking down on us, watching our bodies grinding together. He looked disappointed as I cummed inside my sister. I died for your sins. Sorry, J-man, I thought guilty, feeling Cailee clench in orgasm underneath my driving hips. She brayed sharply in pleasure, and I clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her. …But believe me, these are sins worth dying for.

I’m not dumb. Obviously, I locked the door before ripping my sister’s clothes off, but anyone with keys could have walked through and caught us. No-one did. After the service, Vanessa Spaeny spent forty minutes gabbing to some friends. Bored, we sneaked back to the altar, re-locked the door, and fucked two more times.

7 Days Prior…

One time, her mom knocked on her bedroom door while we were fooling around.

Cailee frantically ran around the room, throwing on jeans and a shirt, flung open a window, spraying Febreeze around to disguise the fact we’d been fucking, then shoved me out the window into the cold. I crawled along the upstairs balcony and crouched there, completely naked, for what felt like forever, while they had a neverending mother-daughter chat. It was horrible. It was like ten degrees below in the wind chill. I was almost begging to be caught by the end, just so my suffering would end.

6 Days Before

One time, the whole family was in the same room, watching some fuck-ass boring foreign language film that had won an award at Cannes or something. The kids were play-fighting and screaming, everyone was on their phone, and Mark was yelling at everyone to be quiet.

It was pandemonium. Chaos.

My eyes went to Cailee. She lay sprawled under a comforter like a big, lazy cat. Her thick butt made the fabric swell out in a thrilling bulge.

Her arms and head emerged beneath the comforter, and her eyes latched on to mine. I saw the movie reflected inside those curious orbs.

Hey, Kyle. She waggled her microbladed eyebrows. Thinking about something?

Then she arched her ass up, and made her rump swing from side to side. A feline in heat, willing a tom to mount her. In times like these, I could almost feel her thoughts cut like steel through my mind.

Discretely, I slid under the comforter, and slooowly wriggled across the carpet until our bodies touched. We shared sweat, shared heat. I could feel her pulse going kathump kathump under its raiment of hot pale skin. A fierce tide of blood, captured and drawn by the moon of her heart.

We started doing stuff under the comforter

Playing.

We undressed. I groped her butt. We played footsie. I rubbed fingers against her horny gash—she had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop a squeal. I stuck a finger into her asshole and wriggled it around until I was two knuckles deep. We teased each other, pawing, petting, and groping, winding each other up until we were mad with lust. Nobody noticed.

We were at the back of the room, and her family’s eyes were held forward, on the movie. We kissed deeply, holding hands. I felt her heartbeat racing through the flat of her wrist. Cailee panted desperately, hungrily, her eyes locked against mine. She smiled, and I saw need in that smile. Need, and a challenge.

You wouldn’t dare do it, Kyle. Not in a million years.

I jerked myself, waiting and hoping, holding my breath until it turned to poison.

A brilliant orange explosion flashed across the screen. The subwoofers drenched the room in pudding-thick bass. I felt my teeth rattle. As sound thundered, I mounted my sister, slipped my dick into her, thrust eight and a half inches into her slippery pussy, and ejaculated a huge load into her box.

As soon as I rolled off her, the rumble of noise subsided.

Mark’s eyes flicked back, settling on us. Cailee—full of my cum—smiled and waved at him. He briefly waved back, not suspecting a thing.

Sperming my sister while her hardass ex-military dad was six feet away was a whole level of awful. But it was these moments when we pushed the envelope that have lingered longest in my memory, and which seem the most true to what this relationship was. There were many such stories. I still haven’t told you the worst one.

The one where we absolutely should have been busted.

That was when I decided the devil himself was on our side, and wanted us to go uncaught.

* * *

Four days previously…

Cailee and I settled into a routine.

One fuck before school. Another when she came home. Then—around midnight, after the billion or so members of her family were asleep—she would crawl into bed with me, we’d have sex a few more times, and then we’d go our separate ways.

It was exhausting. We didn’t sleep much in the two weeks before I got her pregnant. But if we timed my ejaculations correctly, she would never be more than six hours removed from my cum—which she believed was literally keeping her alive against the Kotokovirus-1 plague supposedly sweeping the nation.

“Millions of girls are dying from it,” she whispered, the reaper’s scythe seeming to gleam from her eyes. “The mainstream media’s covering it up…nobody knows we’re dying.”

These moments of fear and vulnerability made me feel guilty. In some ways, we were the same, participating in a socially unthinkable relationship…

…yet we were not the same.

Cailee thought she would die if she didn’t do it. I was gratifying sexual urges. She was doing this because of a lie. I was doing it because I was a liar.

This hollowed out some of my joy. But there seemed no way around it.

One night, I messed up. I went to a rager with some guys I knew from community college. We played beer pong. I either won or lost—I don’t recall anything past 11pm. Apparently I I made it to the bottom of a whole bottle of something, fingered some warpig in the bathroom, then passed out on my friend’s lawn. I didn’t come home at all that night, and by the time I woke up, I had a dozen panicked texts screaming off my phone.

> KYLE WHERE ARE YOU???? > YOU ARE A JERK!!!! > I DON’T HAVE ANY OF YOUR CUM INSIDE ME > WHAT IF I GET SICK??? > DONT YOU CARE ABOUT ME??? DON’T YOU CARE IF I DIE???

Et cetera, et cetera, et fucking cetera…

Cailee demanded—fucking demanded—that I haul ass to Blackwood High Girls’ School, and do the needful. It was absurd. I wanted to say no.

Relax, cous. Take a chill pill. You’re not going to die if you don’t get dicked for one day.

That text almost went out, when I remembered that she didn’t know that.

To her, this was real. It wasn’t a game, it was life and death. My refusal would be interpreted as callousness, as cruelty, and perhaps it would cause the penny to drop.

I had to take this as seriously as she did.

I swallowed some Aspirins, biked over to her school, and stood before the wrought iron gates, unsure how this was going to work. Isn’t Blackwood Girls’ High, y’know, a girls’ school? They must have rules against boys just walking into there…

Sure enough there was a sign by the gate. Only women allowed.

But here is a trick that has served me well. If you do not believe you have broken a rule, you haven’t.

It doesn’t always work, of course. You can’t beat a murder rap with the power of self-belief (or maybe you can—let me know if it works and get back to me). But life is full of confusing, rubbery rules that are not quite set in stone. Or are set in stone yet go unenforced. People only believe these rules if they see other people believe them. And if you defiantly flout them, they question their own apprehension of reality.

I took a breath, purging doubt from my mind. I could not afford uncertainty past the gate. Could not allow a flicker of guilt to cross my face. The instinct I did that, the rule would become real, and I would be breaking it..

I belong here.

I, Kyle Valance, belong inside this all-girl’s school.

As I walked around a girl’s school. Why the fuck not? This whole country ultimately belongs to some Native American or other who sold the rights for a bottle of firewater and a blanket with complementary smallpox, so why should I listen to a warning on some stupid sign?

I walked around the gated villas and fusty neo-Gothic buildings of Cailee Spaeny’s 25k a year private school. Everywhere, girls whispered and stared. Who was this male intruder in their all-female sanctuary?

Some looked angry. Some looked curious. Most looked confused. As confused as I was certain.

But nobody stopped me. They all assumed I had a reason to be there. Which I did, in a way.

I flashed them confident smiles. Matched stares with girls until they looked away, blushing. I felt like a barbarian invader, come to rape and pillage.

These girls were high-key fucking hot. If Cailee was fooling around with other girls—I have a suspicion she may have done so on at least one occasion, but that’s a story for another day—I totally forgive her. Their uniforms bordered on fetishistic. Absolutely designed by a guy who was jacking off as he did it.

They wore structured black blazers, with a formal open cut, which snatched in at the waist, and swelled back out at the bust. Inside the blazer, a shock of white spilled out like frost—a button up shirt, with a dark necktie at the collar. They wore pleated skirts of dark black tartan miniskirts that looked super yummy against the paleness of their thighs, and the same past-the-knee stockings that I loved to chew holes in as I fucked my sister.

Soon, I had a huge erection I walked among them, smiling and making eye contact shamelessly. I let it jut out, like the prow of a ship.

* * *

I met my sister at our agreed-upon meeting point. An abandoned locker room at an old building. A place where we would be alone. It was dark, and smelled of rotted metal. Our voices echoed and bounced unpredictably, using lockers as bounce boards. I hunted for the light switch.

“Nobody comes here,” Cailee’s whispered in the musty-smelling gloom. “They say it’s haunted. Do you believe in ghosts, by the way? Actually, nevermind.”

She showed me where the light switch was. Stiff with rust, the spring resisted my finger.

Snap.

Lights exploded on, revealing walls of lockers. I heard transformers humming.

Cailee swung her body up onto a table, spreading her legs before me.

In awe, I stared at her thighs, which had a mother of pearl lustre under the banks of fluoros. She was dressed in the same blazer and tartan skirt ensemble as the others. I imagined the skin under it, and strangely was even more aroused for not being able to see it.

“Haunted, huh?” I ran a hand across her chin. She shuddered in excitement.

“They say a janitor got caught spying on girls and when he got caught he hanged himself here,” Cailee’s eyes were as huge as walls. “I once lit a candle, and the candle went out by itself.”

“Um, okay?” Not the most amazing of supernatural events.

“Look, there are ghosts watching us. Don’t argue.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She raised a leg, and lifted her skirt. I gulped.

Cailee was wearing a full body stocking underneath.

My eyes drank in the voluptuous wedge of flesh exposed at her crotch, laced with mesh. Her pink precious clam bulged through it. The strings of her underwear dug into her flesh, making a crosshatch of her skin.

“What the fuck…” I breathed. “No way that’s actually part of your uniform.”

“It’s not,” a subtle Mona Lisa smile wove and unwove itself on her face. “I wore it just so you can…you know…”

With my boner almost tearing a hole through my pants, I admitted I didn’t know. She leaned forward, her lips pursing. “Tear it off.”

I pounced on Cailee, throwing her body into the lockers. Bang! The metal rang as her body buckled it inward.

“Uhhh! Kyle, not so rough!” she squealed as my hands explored her body.

“Shut up.” My sister’s thick thighs quivered as they were forced apart. Pinning her in place, I lifted up an awesomely pale thigh, and ripped a hole in the fishnet garters. The mesh tore, and she gasped. I ran a finger over the swollen lips of her labia.

Female cum drooled from her. Her lips—her other lips, to clarify—whispered some challenge or admonition I did not hear.

I was too horny to carae. Too desperate.

I pushed her face against the locker, and dragged her hips lower, twisting and manipulating her until my cock finally had an angle into her slippery yawning cunt. Then I slapped a palm on her back. She flinched, feeling the heat of my hips seeking her.

It was hard to hold her still. Her body kept slipping and sliding against the lockers.”

“Let’s fuck inside a locker,” she whispered, eyes dangerous. “There are coat rails I can hold onto.”

We swung one open, and indeed, there were.

The lockers lining the wall were large enough for two people to screw, although not easily. She did gymnastics as part of the Springfield Little Theater Group, and I was able to contort her into position.

My penis pressed against her pussy, highlighted by the hole I’d ripped in the bodystocking. Shivers ran through her labia as my huge maleness pressed against her folds. I felt resistance, and pushed through it.

I hilted myself inside, penetrating from behind. Her back arched as a tsunami of pleasure washed out across her. I fully inserted myself in her quim. My balls slapped gently at the fork of her crotch.

Then we were fucking. Two wild blood-related teenagers, having slippery, unprotected sex. Pounding my cock into her tight pussy. Absorbed in incestuous sex that was sloppy and fast and wet and hot, rutting obscenely in the harsh light of the fluoro tubing.

No foreplay. Not really enough time. I was conscious that someone might see the switched-on light glowing beneath the door, and then go inside to inspect it.

I just pounded my dick into her, trying to cum as fast as possible.

“Huh! Huhhh! Huhh!” she whined into the lockers as my cock stabbed through her tight snatch. Grabbing her asscheeks as handles, I rammed my dick into her pudgy cunt. THWOP! THWOP! THWOP!

Each thrust of my cock made her teenage meat jiggle enthrallingly. She was extremely horny, and it didn’t take long to make her climax. The sound of my meat thumping into her crotch soon gained a sticky, liquid sound as she released female ejaculate. Soon, her eyelashes fluttered in bliss, and she squealed in an orgasm.

“Oh…Kyle…I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

Throaty gasps surged from her pretty throat. She thrashed against my bucking body, squirming as she twisted impaled on my cock. I felt squirts of orgasmic juice pulsing out, some cascading down my balls, others spraying forward into the wall of the locker. She moaned, and her cock-filled pussy blasted like a sprinkler. Soon, cum had run down the wall of the metal locker, pooling on the floor. Her lewd feminine scent made my nostrils flare.

And then I heard someone bang on the door.

“Hello? Who’s in there?” a sharp woman’s voice rang out.

My worst fear had come to life.

Convulsions of horror ripped through us both. Oh shit.!

I glanced in terror at my naked, cock-filled sister, and pulled the locker door shut to cover our coupling bodies. Near darkness swamped my vision. In the fetid metal-and-sweat smelling box, hot with our flesh, pulsing with our panting brath, we waited. And waited.

And waited.

Uncomfortable, I began slowly resuming my fucking, grinding my hips. Making muted slurp-squish sounds in my sister’s box.

Go away, you interfering bitch. Don’t come in. I know how much Cai’s dad pays to matriculate her here. Let her commit incest with her half-brother in peace.

Then the door to the building swung open. I heard the girl my cock was inside say oh no softly.

We listened as high-arched heels went click-click-click across the floor, seeking the intruder.

“Anyone there?” She was really close to the locker that held us inside it. Perhaps ten feet or less.

I didnt dare breathe. Sweat made my back itch. I squeezed my eyes shut, and offered up a desperate prayer. Please leave.

And then I heard something else that made me want to die.

A liquid trickling sound at our feet.

I glanced down, and saw in the thin line of light beneath the locker door that Cailee’s cum was leaking across the floor of the locker, and flowing out into the hall beyond. If this woman saw fluid leaking out of the locker, she’d catch us. Every second lasted years as she came closer. We heard her dialing a phone, calling someone.

“Hello? Principal Winstead? It’s Evelyn. I’m in the abandoned building. The light was switched on. Do you know why?”

Her feet stopped moving right outside the locker. My heart drummed frantically as I heard Cailee’s ejaculation slide down the wall, watched it ebb out under the doorway.

My cock was still lodged in her, a hot fat spike of flesh filling her almost to the diamater of a coke can. Knowledge that I was about to be caught was acting like an aphrodisiac on me. I felt myself throbbing faster and faster. The muscles of my hips were burning from holding a position. I shifted my hips…and stupidly made myself cum instantly.

“Mmmffff!” I couldn’t stop my orgasm. I could barely stop the sound of my orgasm. The harder I fought it back, the faster it came on. It was like a sneeze.

Outside the locker, the woman was still yapping on her phone. “No. I can’t see anyone. I’m wondering if the cheer club was using the building for something.”

Ahhh! My balls imploded inward. A hot itch detonated in my posterior.

On a hairtrigger, I lunged forward with my hips, rocking Cailee forward, and began jizzing inside her. In seconds, she was flooded. The dripping-trickling sound of her juices pouring to the locker floor suddenly intensified as I added my contribution to the mess.

Outside the locker, we heard the voice speaking.

“…I don’t know, but our power bill was up twenty percent from last quarter. If the girls need to use this building, they need to switch off the lights afterward…what do you mean it’s not my job?”

“Mmmf! Mmmmf!” I pressed my face into the hot anxiety-slippery skin of her back as I creampied Cailee Spaeny. Her pussy started squirming too as my ejaculations triggered a second climax.

For nearly forty seconds we wrestled against each other, passing an orgasm back and forth like the plague. We gasped and whined as pleasure surged and exploded. Trying not to make a sound. We squirmed and rutted, our loins fluxed together like molten metal, grinding together in slippery union as we discharged. It seemed like it would never end. I could hardly stop myself from screaming.

Two feet away, the woman sighed beyond the locker door. “No. Nothing seems stolen. Want to send someone to help me take an inventory? I’ll be here for hours otherwise.”

Oh no.

The woman she was talking to said something, and then she hung up the phone with a sigh.

“Unbelievable,” we heard the woman snarl in exasperation. “Bitches me out over the power bill. Gets shirty when I tell her how to save power.”

We heard her flounce away. Thank God.

Once we heard the door slam behind her, we relaxed in the locker. Cailee pushed the door open.

By now, my eyes had adjusted to darkness. And what I saw in the space outside made me want to faint. The woman had been standing in a puddle of our cum!

Our releases had leaked from inside the locker, puddling on the rubber floor mats. Clear fluid and swirly white sperm, mingled like egg yolk and white. There was an elegant size-8 shoeprint stamped into the cum-pool. You could have used it as forensic evidence.

Leading away from the locker and the toward the door was a line of shoeprints. She was tracking our genital fluid on her shoes!

I could hardly believe that we’d just done that.

Cailee pinched me. “Wanna bang again? You need to be fast. I have classes.”

* * *

So, that was the prelude leading up to the positive pregnancy test.

Which, without exaggerating, it was one of the worst days of my life.

She’d just dropped the positive pregnancy test on me.

Then I’d gone to my laptop and discovered that I had a stalker who knew my secret, and who was extorting me for money I didn’t have.

Overwhelmed by the last five minutes, I lay in bed, squeezing shut my eyes, the message still burning out the back of my brain like glowing shrapnel.

Through the wall, I heard my sister crying. My sister who still didn’t know how bad things actually were. She still thought she was my cousin. And she still thought her secret was safe from the world.

I should have comforted her. I’d put her in this position. And it wasn’t like I was potentially carrying a baby. But I was selfish then. I thought of myself, and only myself. Yeah, I’m not the most morally upright individual in the world. Bite me. My mental was absolutely shot. I wanted to die. I felt like I was sinking slowly into a pit of snakes. A pit I deserved to be in.

Exhausted, I drifted off into sleep.

A mistake.

When I awoke in a sweat stain on my bedsheets, my sister was gone.

Alone and distraught, she had run away from home.

* * *

“Hello?” I knocked on Cailee’s bedroom door.

No answer.

“Cai? Can we talk about this…situation?”

Still no answer.

“We need to find a way forward. I got something else you should know about, too.”

When I still didn’t hear anything, I pushed the door, and saw her room empty. And then I knew that there was no point in checking the rest of the house.

Her parents and most of her siblings were out. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. On any other occasion, we would have been taking full advantage of our relative privacy. Not now, though. Maybe not ever again.

Her diary was lying on her pillow, turned inside out with a page exposed to view.

I picked it up, and read what she’d written in a shaking hand.

I AM A BAD PERSON
I DESERVE TO CATCH KOTOKOVIRUS-1 AND DIE
DO NOT LOOK FOR ME
I DO NOT KNOW WHEN I WILL BE COMING BACK
MAYBE I WON’T
I AM—

Then it broke off. It looked like she had tried to write a word starting with P and had immediately stopped. Lacking the strength to write the word.

There was no signature on the note, and no clue as to who it might be addressed to. Either me, her mom and dad, or to God.

I destroyed the note, looked at the pillow underneath the diary, and saw the positive pregnancy test.

And suddenly it all seemed real. That’s my baby. I thought, horrified by the thought that I’d implanted a fetus into my own goddamn sister.

I found the trashed pregnancy stick, and noted the brand. Then I walked out into the hall, and began doing some searches on my phone. Taking notes. A gullible fool, thinking that I could research my way out of the hole to hell I’d dug for us both.

And then, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jerked back.

It was Jon Spaeny. Her brother.

“Hi, Kyle,” he said softly.

He was twelve or thirteen. After he’d caught us doing something and tried to rat us out, we had a tense relationship. But I did not feel threatened by him. He was harmless.

And as I looked at his blank, unreadable face—he had the start of teenage stubble—a shadow of doubt warped across my soul.

Maybe Jon sent the email.

Was this sullen-looking kid my secret extortionist? It was suspiciously well-spelled, but I knew he was the main candidate. His attempt to expose me had failed, and now he was trying something else.

“If you’re looking for Cailee,” Jon murmured. “I know where she is.”

“Yeah?” I dabbed at sweat beading on my forehead. “Where?”

“But first,” he said. “I got something to ask. What are you doing to her?

“I have no idea,” I lied. “I heard Cailee crying about something, and she’s just…gone.”

He nodded, expression unreadable. “I saw you kissing her. What else are you doing?”

“Nothing.” I couldn’t maintain eye contact. “That was an…experiment.”

“I think you’re lying.” He said. “I know you must be doing other stuff.”

I shrugged.

“Then why haven’t you told anyone?”

“Because when I tried to tell mom and dad about the kiss,” he said, “you lied, dad believed you instead of me, and I got grounded. They trust you. They don’t trust me.”

BItterness seeped like snake venom from his voice, and I felt a bit bad.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want that to happen. Do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Kyle” he said. “I don’t know even know who you are. There’s so much lying and bullshitting coming from you that I don’t even know who I’m talking to you right now. You’re like six masks stacked on top of each other. Which one’s doing the talking today?”

I shrugged. Fair cop. He was a perceptive kid.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I live in a house where the truth gets you punished, so who cares, anyway. It’s all so dumb. I’m done paying attention to shit. Lie to whoever you want, Kyle. Obviously you’re gonna get away with it. Cailee’s at the park if she’s anywhere.”

“Hey, man…” I reached out a hand to comfort him. “Thanks. I’m sorry.”

He jerked back, eyes flashing.

“Don’t touch me. Just fix whatever you broke, and leave me alone.”

* * *

I biked to Nathanael Greene Memorial Park, having a realization. This was the place where I had first met her.

It’s possible that she has gone there to commit suicide. The thought swirled but didn’t settle. Didn’t make sense. Or is it suicide, when one person is so thoroughly guilty?

I swallowed, anxious and horror-filled. I deserved to burn in hell.

The leaves were dying now. Out of season. The bike tyres whispered through shallow leafdrifts of gold and brown and rust. Over my head, branches forked like black lightning against the sun.

I found Cailee beside the public bathroom of Nathanael Greene Memorial Park’s Butterfly House.

She was lying on the concrete, an angel dropped and shattered. Her clothes were torn. Her makeup was tattered. Dishevelled and sweaty, she had an unravelled quality. Like I was seeing a girl that had come apart. A beautiful thing debased. Made unbeautiful. I gulped, and tried not to think about how she’d ended up in that condition.

“Cai…” I stood over her, my shadow staining her form. “What happened?”

She didn’t respond, but I saw movement fluttering beneath her eyelids.

“Cailee, talk to me. I’m here. For you.”

For thirty seconds, I waited for her to speak. Just as I was reaching for my phone to dial triple zero, she actually spoke.

“I think…”

Her voice was a bloodless rasp. I leaned in closer, trying to hear.

“I’m finally dead…”

A leaf settled on my back, and I recoiled like a salted slug. I felt raw and flayed open and vulnerable.

“I’m glad, Kyle…it’s better to be dead as myself than alive as myself. Maybe I can be reborn…”

I grasped her hand, and pulled her upright.

She gasped, tottered, and stood.

I smelled alcohol on her breath. She was utterly trashed.

“You’re not dead, Cai, and you shouldn’t want to be.” I said, embracing her. Her body swayed and seemed to drape against me, like a coat. “Tell me what you’ve put in your body. Everything you can recall.”

“You wouldn’t touch me if you knewwwww…” her voice slurred like a record with a finger dragged on it.

I ushered her back to my bike. “Can you ride pillion? And knew what?”

“What I’ve been letting guys do to me at this place. Fuck me. Anyone who wants me has had me, for hours and hours. I’m worthless trash. Open to all.”

“You’re not worthless trash.” I kickstarted the engine, feeling vibrations blend against the sobs on my shoulder. The inside of my mouth tasted like metal. Me, on the other hand…. “Come back home.”

“Like ten or fifteen guys.” She whined. “Others rejected me. They knew I’m poison. Oh God, why couldn’t I have just caught Kotoko-1 and died. This would all have been…so…simple…”

I merged, the engine swallowed her words beneath rising thunder. My teeth clenched and my hands strangled the handlebars.

Her hands held on to me. The last point of contact. Soon the vibration of the bike meant I could hardly feel them. I prayed she was still holding on.

* * *

At home, I helped Cailee indoors. She began to rally. Spots of color began to flow across her sullen face. I got a smile from her. Then a laugh. She said she was tired, and took a nap. I had a couple of things to tell her, but decided they could wait.

“I was lying,” she told me, as she dressed in her nightclothes, her hair wet from the shower she’d just had. “Nobody fucked me. I wanted them to do it. Wanted to just debase myself. But in the end…”

“You were too scared to,” I told her. “Because you knew you were wrong. Your life does have value, Cai.”

She lowered her eyes. Waved her hand. “I’m better now, Kyle. Don’t worry about me.”

I’m better now. But was she? I listened to her voice. Tried to detect strangeness and artifice in it. Something had changed. I couldn’t say what. Like listening to your favorite CD on someone else’s sound system.

Things would be different now, I felt. Break a plate, and it doesn’t matter if you glue it back together. There’s still a crack.

“I want to tell you something,” I said…

…and in an amazing moment of personal development, actually told her the truth. Some of it, at least.

She nodded. “Well, I’ll wait until the alcohol is gone from my system, and then try again.”

“It’s all we can hope for, I guess. That none of this is real.”

“I hope there’s more we can hope for. Thank you for coming to get me. I’m glad mom and dad didn’t find out…”

One last hug, then she slunk away, heading for bed.

And I just sat shellshocked until I heard the car park outside. The Spaeny family had returned.

* * *

The bizarre day ended with us all having dinner, like nothing had happened. Cailee was only a few minutes late to the table.

“Hey, babygirl,” her dad said, big and boisterous and smiling. I saw the way muscle thickly lashed across his chest and shoulders, swelling beneath a white shirt.

He had served in Iraq. He’d occasionally told me stories about rolling Route Irish in Baghdad. If her dad discovered the truth, I was probably actually dead. Not dead in the overdramatic sense. Dead as in D-E-D.

I glanced to Cailee, whose eyes were unreadable, and for a moment was afraid she’d just blurt out everything that had happened. Dad, I’m pregnant. It’s Kyle’s baby. But she said nothing. She smiled at me. Her dad didn’t see it.

Then she kicked my ankle. A shudder spiraled through me.

“I’m going upstairs,” she said, pushing past me. I heard her flat-footed walk on the stairs, and saw her butt disappear around the corner.

I waited an appreciable length of time, then followed her.

* * *

The false positive rate of digital pregnancy tests is low. It is not zero.

And while trying to Google a way out of our situation, I had discovered that recalls had been issued for a batch of ten thousand units.

Upstairs, I told Cailee to take another pregnancy test. Just…try again, you know? That’s all.

She took three. Spaced them over a few days. All of them were negative.

It was a false alarm. She was not pregnant.

This should have been a wake-up call to back off from what we were doing. Yes, another one. And yet…

She came for me after the fourth pregnancy test.

“I need it.” She told me in my room, then dimmed the lights so her dad wouldn’t see. I was blessed, because nothing had changed. I was cursed, because nothing had changed.

I watched Cailee turn around, and tug her sweatpants down over her ripe, jiggly ass. It stared me right in the face, asshole and cunt circumscribed by thick walls of textured flesh.

I pulled her cheeks apart, revealing both holes; a pink little pucker and a sloppy glistening slit.

Then we were making out. Kissing, grinding our bodies together, our hands grasping and clasping.

Five minutes later, we were in bed, screwing furiously.

We kissed. I ran my hands through her short-cropped hair, feeling her squirm. Meanwhile, I mounted up in the hot thrashing fork of her legs.

Cailee gasped as I wedged myself inside her, slipping to the very bottom of her wet hot sheath. A soft squish of flesh squeaked out like rubber as I humped down into her guts. I filled her, driving into her slick depths balls deep.

Her grunts of pleasure were draped like cloth over the moist rhythm of our lewd rutting, and blasted a heavy thick load in her womb.

Her vaginal flesh trembled. I glanced between our tightly-pressed crotches, and watched my cock spasm and lurch as it piped baby batter into her unprotected pussy. She suppressed moans as I unloaded, hosing her full of hot thick cum.

Cailee bucked, tensed, and ignited. Her eyes seemed to bug out in her skull as she orgasmed, screaming against my face.

“Oh! OH! OOOH I’M GONNA…!”

I drove myself into my climaxing sister, my cock throbbing wildly as I spewed load after load into her teenage body. Her thighmeat and derriere jiggled slightly against the bedsheets, as her back arched in pleasure. Her panties were tangling her ankles up together like an ankle chain.

She groaned, her thick thighs spread wide. A bead of sweat traced down one of them, leaving a glistening trail on her teenage legs. I saw her eyelids fluttering, saw sweat tearing up her makeup.

’I can’t believe it,” Cailee whispered in the afterglow, her eyes reduced to two bright spots in the dark. “We got away with it. Nobody will ever know.”

Then I thought about the email that I still hadn’t told her about. The one from the kyle_valance_luvs_incest@protonmail.com email address. For a second, I almost told her. She seemed to sense that I was holding something back, and the loose, erotic fugue became tight and restrained. “Kyle? Anything wrong?”

I shuddered. Yes.

“No. I love you so much, sis.”

A slip. She still thought I was her cousin. But she either did not notice or ignored the sister.

We should have stopped but didn’t. And soon, things became far, far worse than we could have feared.