Previous chapters:
* Part 1 (link)
* Part 2 (link)
* Part 3 (link)

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Because it was the school holidays, Michael had very little to do with his day, and he had been vaguely planning to spend it repeatedly raping his newly-sexually-available sister, who had learned such interesting new attitudes to her gender at college.

But when they were done fucking in their parents’ bedroom, Brea jumped up and announced that she was going out for the day.

“Where to?” asked Michael.

“Oh, here and there,” said Brea vaguely.  She went to her room and dressed in a cute top and a short skirt.  She flipped up the skirt to show Michael that she wasn’t wearing panties, and then left the house, leaving Michael alone.

A little discombobulated, Michael spent the day playing videogames and watching television.  He pissed in the toilet for the first time since his sister came home, and reflected with dissatisfaction that it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as using Brea’s mouth.

Brea came home that evening a little before their parents, and immediately changed into an outfit similar to the one she had worn that morning – panties and a loose shirt.

Their father Evan was the first of their parents to get home, and Brea greeted him at the door with another full-mouth kiss, as she had that morning.  Michael watched uneasily as his father was at first surprised – but then kissed Brea back, wrapping an arm around the small of her back.

“Good evening, honey,” he said, when the kiss was over.

“Welcome home, Daddy!” said Brea, bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet, using the same kittenish voice she had adopted that morning.  “Have you forgiven me for getting slutty whore tits yet?”

“No, Brea, I haven’t,” said Evan.  “I’m still very upset with you.”

“But Daddy, you haven’t even *seen* them,” protested Brea.  “You should at least *see* them.  Would you like to?”

“Brea…” Evan protested.

“How can you tell me I’m a slut and a whore when you haven’t even *seen* them?” Brea continued.

Their father looked uncomfortable.  Michael could see that he had a bulge in his pants again.

“Well… all right,” he said finally.

Brea clapped her hands in delight, and then lifted up the front of her shirt to show her big new plastic fuckmelons.

Their father stared at them, face flushed.

“You can touch,” said Brea.

Evan reached out and put his hand over Brea’s left boob, and squeezed experimentally.  Brea giggled.  He put his other hand over her right tit, and she bit her lip seductively.  Finally, he gave her nipple an experimental pinch, and Brea made a slutty moan.  Then she leaned in and tongue-kissed her father on the mouth again, as he groped her breasts.

“I suppose your new breasts aren’t so bad,” their father said, grudgingly, when the kiss was over.

“Do they make me look like a whore, Daddy?” asked Brea.

“Yes,” said Evan frankly.

Brea pouted.  “Maybe you’ll change your mind.  Why don’t you take a photo, Daddy, so you can look at them again tomorrow and see if you feel differently?”

Their father didn’t have to be invited twice.  He took out his phone and snapped a picture of his daughter, wearing only panties below the waist and exposing her large fake tits to him.

Michael still wasn’t okay with Brea seducing his father, and decided enough was enough.  “Uh, hey,” he said, stepping forward.  “What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta!” said Brea.  “I’m cooking.  I went shopping!”

“Good girl,” said their father, and Brea beamed with happiness.

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Their mother Veronica got home shortly after.  Other than her outfit, Brea behaved herself throughout dinner, avoiding sexual topics, and nodding and smiling like a model daughter. 

After dinner, she suggested that she and Michael go for a walk.  She led him to a nearby park – dark and poorly lit by street lights – where she encouraged him to force her to be his toilet.  He chased her around the park, ripped off her clothes, forced her to her knees, slapped her face, and then pissed in her mouth.  When he was done, he bent her over the seesaw in the kids’ playground and raped her cunt from behind.  She cleaned his cock with her mouth, thanked him for raping her, and then they went home, retiring to their separate bedrooms for the evening.

As he lay in bed trying to sleep, Michael heard the sounds of his father fucking his mother, and knew that there would be another condom of cum for Brea to eat in the morning.  As his father climaxed, Michael thought he heard him grunt “Brea!” – but he might have imagined it.

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The next morning – Tuesday – was much like the one before it, with Brea slutting around the kitchen in panties and a shirt, although this one was tighter and hugged her tits more closely.  Their parents were busily getting ready for work – but today their mother seemed a little confused.  Her face was flushed, and she misplaced her phone three times.  Her blouse was misbuttoned, showing a glimpse of her bra, but no one pointed it out to her.

“Kiss her goodbye,” whispered Brea in Michael’s ear as he stared at her dishevelled shirt.  “On the mouth.”  Her hand reached down and began to surreptitiously stroke his cock through his pants.  It hardened instantly.

“What?” exclaimed Michael, louder than he meant to.

“Kiss her goodbye on the mouth,” whispered Brea again, “or else dad’s cum goes up my pussy this morning.”

Flushing, Michael stepped forward, intercepting his mother, who was about to go out the front door.  “Uh, mom,” he said.  “Have a good day at work.”  And then he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her – and kissed her on the lips.

His mother gave a little jump of surprise, and then, as if by habit, her lips parted, allowing his tongue into her mouth.  She gave a little moan – and then seemed to come to her senses.  She pulled her head away, blushing.

“Michael, what was that?” she asked.

“Just a kiss for a good-looking woman,” said Michael.  “Brea did it with dad yesterday.  You just deserve some appreciation.”  His confident words were undercut by his furious blush.

“Well, um…” his mother said.  She was blushing too.  “Okay.  Thank you.”  She hustled out the door.

“Your turn, Daddy,” said Brea, and gave her father her now-customary kiss on the lips.  Evan didn’t resist at all, kissing her back passionately, wrapping an arm around her to pull it close.  When the kiss was over, Brea giggled, and nuzzled her face against her father’s neck.

“Be a good girl, honey,” said their father, and then he left as well.

When the door shut, Michael acted on instinct.  He strode towards his sister and slapped her across the face.

“That’s for being a slut,” he said.  He slapped her again.  “And a whore.”

Brea moaned and looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes.  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said.

“You can’t seduce our parents!” he said, angry.  “Stop it!”

“It wasn’t *me* who kissed mom,” she said.  “You seemed to be pretty good with that tongue.”

He slapped her again.  “Don’t talk back,” he said.

She giggled.  “Make me.”

He did.

By the time he was done pissing in her mouth and then raping her over the loungeroom couch, she had a visible bruise on her left cheek.  “I’ll tell people I’m a clumsy slut and I walked into a door,” said Brea, examining it in a mirror.  “Actually, it’s kind of hot.  Well done, Michael.”

Then she led him into their parents’ bedroom, where she once again found her father’s most recent condom full of cum in the waste bin. 

“Film me as I eat it,” she told Michael, and he obligingly pulled out his camera and videoed his sister as she sat nude on the bed, legs spread, and masturbated while licking her father’s cum out of a condom.

“Is this for my entertainment?” asked Michael when the show was done, referring to the video file he now possessed.

“I want you to share it with a friend,” said Brea.  “Just give it out to whoever.  Treat me like I’m a trading card.  Maybe tell people you’ll share it with them if they give you a video of *their* sister.  Whatever.”

She then went to one corner of the room, and to Michael’s surprise she removed a small bit of plaster from the wall and extracted a cable.

“What is that?” asked Michael.

“Hidden camera,” said Brea.  “I set it up yesterday.”  She plugged the cable into her phone, downloaded something, and then came back to Michael.  She took his cock in his hand and began pumping it, and then showed Michael what was on the screen.

It was video of his mother and father, in bed.  His mother was on all fours, completely nude, her heavy tits swinging down beneath her.  His father knelt behind her, his hands on her hips, his cock buried in her cunt.  He was vigorously pumping in and out of her.

The video gave an excellent view of the slutty, vacant expression on his mother’s face, and her nude tits swinging back and forth like udders below her.

“Brea, this is…” Michael began, not sure what to say.  He remembered he didn’t use her name anymore.  “I mean, cunt… their privacy…”

“Hush,” said Brea.  “Just look at it, and think of your mother as a sex object, and let me make you cum.”

She passed him the phone, and then sank down to her knees, taking his cock into her mouth and beginning to suck.

Brea was right.  The woman in the video didn’t look like his mother.  She looked like a porn star.  And as his sister sucked his cock, Michael pictured that it was him who was pounding her cunt from behind.  He pictured slapping her, like he slapped Brea.  He pictured pissing in her mouth, like he pissed in Brea’s mouth.  He pictured raping her, and making her clean off his cock afterwards and say thank you.

He was still picturing it when he orgasmed into his sister’s mouth.

And the video showed that when his father came, he *definitely* said “Brea”.

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