Chapters (so far):
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen


Michael awoke to the sound of arguing.  It was his father’s voice, and he sounded mad.

“You look like a whore, Brea,” he heard his father shout – and suddenly it all came back to Michael.

His sister had come home from the holidays, and revealed that living on-campus at an interstate college had changed her.  She had gotten herself big plastic tits, and formed a belief that feminism was evil and that women should be fucktoys for men.  She had seduced Michael – her own 18-year-old brother – and convinced him to slap her, call her a bitch, piss in her mouth, and rape her.

Michael had spent most of yesterday abusing his sister, with her gleeful encouragement.  He had cum three times into her pussy, despite the fact that she had refused to tell him whether she was on birth control or not.  For all he knew, his sister could be pregnant with his baby at this moment.  He had likewise drained his bladder into her mouth three times as she eagerly suckled on his cock and swallowed his urine.  He hadn’t used her name since yesterday morning, instead calling her “bitch” or “cunt”.  And he had slapped her across the face, tits or cunt whenever the whim came to him, which was inevitably rewarded by his sister gasping in sexual pleasure.

After their last session of fucking, around dinner time last night, she had crawled naked back to her bedroom, because their parents – who had been away all weekend – were due back late that night, and Michael had convinced Brea that they should *not* be caught naked in the same bed.

“Yet,” Brea had added, with a mischievous smile.  But she had obeyed.

Michael had fallen asleep before his parents actually returned.  But now, judging from the shouting, they were definitely back.

His father had called Brea a whore.  Michael knew from his own recent experience that if he had said that to Brea, she would have replied, “I *am* a whore.”

But with their father, Brea took a different approach.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, in a submissive, pouty, kittenish voice.  Just hearing it made Michael’s cock stiffen.  “I just wanted to look pretty for you.”

Their father’s voice softened a little.  “You already looked pretty, honey,” he said.  “You didn’t have to get these… fake breasts.”

“Do you think my tits make me ugly, Daddy?” said Brea, sounding as though she might cry.

Their father searched for words.  “No, honey, you look very pretty.  Just… cheap.  Nice girls don’t have plastic breasts like that.”

“So I’m not a nice girl any more?” Brea wailed.  “I’m just a slut now?”

And then their mother spoke.  “Oh, go easy on her, Evan,” she said.  “It’s men’s fault that women do this to themselves.  You have no idea the pressure society puts on women’s body image.  I don’t like it either, but there’s plenty of successful, intelligent women who have had a boob job.”

“It’s just so hard at college, Daddy,” Brea said.  “There’s no structure or discipline and no one to tell me if I’m doing the wrong thing.  Someone probably should have pulled me over their knee and spanked me the first time I thought about getting these slutty plastic melons.”

Michael could hear what Brea was doing.  She was associating herself with the word “slut” in her father’s mind.  She was repeatedly implying that she didn’t have “breasts” – she had “tits” or “melons”.  And right now their father couldn’t help but picture the idea of turning Brea over his lap and spanking her naked ass.

Curious, Michael got out of bed, threw on a shirt, underwear, and pants, and headed to the kitchen to see what was happening directly.

Brea was dressed provocatively – no surprise, given her recent behaviour.  She was wearing nothing but a large, loose pink flannel shirt and – presumably – a pair of panties underneath.  The shirt came down to just below her groin.  It was an outfit that Brea had worn around the house for years without comment, the sort of thing a daughter could get away with wearing casually in front of her parents without comment in a morning or evening.  But her new enhanced tits made the front of the shirt bulge lewdly, pulling the hem up towards her crotch ever so slightly, and the perky nubs of her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric.  Her new body sexualised the outfit, making her look like a fuckdoll without providing any clear reason why her parents might object to her wearing it.

Their father, Evan, was clearly uncomfortable.  He was dressed in business casual, ready to go to work, but Michael thought he saw a bulge in his father’s pants.  Was he aroused by his own daughter?  Michael looked at Brea’s slutty body, and decided that even Brea’s own father couldn’t help but be turned on by her.

Their mother, Veronica, was oblivious to the sexual energy in the room.  In her late 30s, she was still a good-looking woman.  She had done some work as a swimsuit model at college to pay her way through her biology degree, and now worked as a researcher for Big Agriculture.  She, too, was dressed for work, and looking a little irritated at being delayed by this confrontation between her husband and daughter.

Their father looked at the time on his mobile phone.  He *was* running late.  “I’ll think about it, Brea,” he said.  “And we’ll talk about this further tonight.  I have to get to work now.  Don’t make a mess around the house, and play nice with your brother.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Brea.  She stepped up and gave her father a hug – crushing her new fake tits against his chest – and then kissed him… on the lips. 

Her father’s eyes bulged.  Her mother, distracted by something on her phone, didn’t see the kiss.  Michael knew from experience that Brea would be pushing her tongue into their father’s mouth, kissing like a whore kisses her client, not like a daughter kisses her father.  And when Brea broke off the kiss, her father said nothing – but the bulge in his pants was even more noticeable.

“Have fun at work, Daddy,” said Brea, and watched as their parents left the house – Veronica quickly, without looking back, and Evan awkwardly, trying to conceal his erection.

As soon as they were gone, Brea walked over to Michael, knelt, took out his cock, and put it in her mouth.

Michael had been waiting for this.  He relaxed his bladder, and pissed into his sister’s mouth.  It felt so good.  Every time he did this, it became harder for him to see his sister as the girl he had grown up with, and easier to see her as the objectified fuckdoll she clearly wanted to be.

“Do you… like that?” he asked his sister, as she finished swallowing his piss and returned to her feet, licking her lips.

“Well, it makes me feel like a degraded animal,” said Brea.  “And the part of me that remembers being a pure and innocent little girl – my inner child, I guess – screams and cries whenever I do it, and part of me feels sick and violated and disgusted.”  She kissed Brian on the lips.  “But that’s just how women are *supposed* to feel, so it makes me really happy to know that I’m doing what I’m supposed to.”  She bit her lip sexily.  “Happy – and really, really wet.”

“You’re fucked up,,” said Michael, uneasily.  “This isn’t right.”

“Yes, it is!” insisted Brea.  “Come on, I need to get something.”

She walked down the hallway to their parents’ bedroom.  Brea and Michael weren’t supposed to go in here – it was their parents’ private space – so Michael was hesitant as he followed.  He found Brea rummaging in the small waste bin in the corner of the room.

“Ah, here it is!” said Brea, triumphantly, pulling something out of the bin.  It was a condom, full of sperm, tied off at the end.  “I heard mom and dad fucking last night after they got home.  I knew it would be here somewhere.”

“Put it down, cunt,” said Michael, remembering that he didn’t use Brea’s name anymore.  “That’s gross.”

“It’s just cum, Michael,” said Brea.  “It’s not any grosser than what you were squirting up my pussy all day yesterday.  And this can go up my pussy too.”

“You can’t!” said Michael, shocked.  “Sis, I know you feel like you’re a slut now, but you can’t seduce our dad!  And you can’t put his cum in your pussy!  What if you get pregnant?  You’ll destroy our family.”

“Oh Michael,” said Brea, “I’m not going to destroy our family.  I’m going to *fix* it.”  She climbed up on the bed, still holding the condom.  “Anyway, if you don’t think I should push this cum up my pussy, maybe you should *force* me to stop.”

That was all the encouragement Michael needed.  He was angry at Brea, and a little scared and disgusted at himself, and his cock was hard, and a mess of conflicting emotions were raging within him.  He lunged at the bed, grabbed Brea’s ankles, and pulled.  She fell down on the bed, hard, and the condom flew out of her hand, into the corner.

She immediately began to twist over onto all fours to crawl away from Michael, but he climbed up behind her.  Her shirt had come up to her tits, exposing her pink cotton panties, and Michael grabbed the waistband of the panties and began to pull them down her legs.  She kicked against him, but that only helped the panties come off, and soon her pretty waxed pussy was exposed to his view.

“Michael, don’t!” Brea protested.  “Stop!”  But she didn’t sound sincere, and her pussy was visibly wet.  She was still trying to get away, to crawl off the bed.  He reached out and grabbed her hair, and pulled hard, making her whole body flip backwards.  She made a genuine cry of pain, but Michael was already pulling her shirt up to expose her new plastic tits.  He pulled it up until it covered her face, trapping her arms – and then left it there.  He had been going to rip it off entirely, but he liked what he was looking at. 

With her shirt covering her face, she looked like just a pair of tits and a pussy, with no identity at all.  Just an object to be fucked. 

Michael slapped at her tits a couple of times, provoking squeals from under the shirt.  Then he pulled out his cock, forced her legs apart, and began to rape his sister.

She struggled the whole time, and protested.  “Michael, no!  Michael, stop!”  Eventually he put a hand over her mouth, pressing her T-shirt against her lips, to make her shut up.  He knew this was all part of her training program for him, to get him comfortable with raping her.  And she was right – it was getting easier.  He was comfortable with the idea that his sister was a hole for him to cum into, and her opinion on that was irrelevant.  Or at least, he was comfortable when he was horny.  The guilt came later.

He raped his sister until he felt his orgasm approaching, and then permitted himself to ejaculate into her cunt without worrying about her fertility.  She shuddered as she felt him discharge into her, and it triggered her own orgasm, her cunt clenching against his cock and her hips bucking spasmodically.

When he was done, he finished pulling off Brea’s shirt, kissed his sister on the lips, and then let her up.  She immediately moved to clean his cock with her mouth, and then she got up and retrieved the condom from the floor.

“Not in your pussy,” Michael warned.

“Yes, sir,” said Brea, in a sexy, mischievous, submissive voice.  She untied the condom, and then stuck out her tongue and emptied the contents into her mouth, swallowing every drop of the white sticky fluid.

Michael looked away.  He couldn’t believe his sister was swallowing her own father’s sperm.

“Mmm,” Brea purred.  “Dad tastes *good*.”

“God, you’re so disgusting,” said Michael.  “I can’t believe you made me rape you in our parents’ bed.”

“Made you?” asked Brea, amused.

“Isn’t that what you’re telling me?” said Michael.  “If a girl gets raped, it’s her fault?”

Brea’s eyes widened.  “Oh, Michael, you’re *learning*!”  She rushed to him and kissed him.  Michael pulled back, not wanting to taste his own father’s cum, but Brea had been assiduous in swallowing it all, and all Michael tasted was her own slutty saliva.

When the kiss was over, she crawled nude across the bed to her mother’s nightstand.  She opened a drawer in it, and took out her mother’s Webster-pak – a compartmentalised plastic box for organising medication.  She opened it, and began picking out pills, and replacing them from a plastic pill bottle.  Michael briefly wondered exactly where Brea had been carrying the bottle when she came into the room, and then decided he didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” asked Michael.

“Getting rid of mom’s birth control,” said Brea.  “And replacing them.”

“Replacing them?  With what?”

“Good girl pills,” said Brea.  “I got a bunch of them at college.  I don’t need them, because I’m already a good girl, but mom’s going to need a lot if we’re going to fix this family.”

“What do they do?” asked Michael.

“They just make you a little floaty and silly and horny,” said Brea.  “Mom’s going to find herself worrying less, noticing less, and maybe being not quite so intelligent as normal.  And her pussy’s going to be wet a lot.  It’ll be a pleasant surprise for dad, and mum will feel happier, and she’s less likely to be bothered by me getting a little friendlier with you and dad.”

She finished her task, and snapped the plastic container closed.  “And eventually, we can teach her what women are *really* for.”  She crawled back to Michael and began massaging his cock again.  “How about it, brother?  Would you like to do to mom what you do to me?  Slap her and rape her and piss in her mouth?”

Michael was horrified – horrified at his sister, horrified at the idea… but mostly horrified that his cock was getting hard again.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Brea, smiling.

He raped her again, right there and then.  And when she struggled and protested, she did it in his mother’s voice.

And he came inside of her even quicker than before.


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