* Part 1 (link)
* Part 2 (link)
* Part 3 (link)
* Part 4 (link)
Brea vanished again all Tuesday, leaving the house in a tiny skirt, high heels, and a tight T-shirt that read “FUCKDOLL” across the front in large letters.
She returned in the afternoon again, and this time Michael had enough time to use her as his toilet and rapetoy before their father got home. He vigorously abused her in her bedroom. But this time Brea acted a little differently. When he pissed in her mouth, she spat it out into an empty soft drink bottle, and put a cap on it. When he ejaculated in her fuckhole, she stood and let it trickle out of her pussy into a glass.
“What are you doing, cunt?” asked Michael, in confusion.
“Shush,” said Brea, and that was the end of the discussion, because at that point their father came home, and Brea rushed to re-dress in her skimpy panties and tight shirt in order to go and greet him.
To Michael’s disgruntlement, Brea didn’t even have to kiss their father this time, because he initiated it, pressing his lips against his daughter’s and pushing his tongue into her mouth. Brea moaned like a slut in his arms.
Afterwards, she again quizzed him on her tits. “Do you forgive me yet, Daddy?”
“Not yet, Brea,” he replied.
“Do you need another look, Daddy?” she asked.
It turned out he did need another look – and another touch – and another deep tongue-kiss while he fondled her tits.
Afterwards, Brea said, “You know I wax my pussy now too, Daddy. Does that make me slutty as well?”
“Yes,” said their father, his voice hoarse, his pants bulging.
Michael cleared his throat before Brea could offer her father a viewing, stepping between the two to ask his father how his day had been, and deflating the sexual tension.
When their father eventually excused himself to use the bathroom, Brea sidled up to Michael.
“I bet he’s going to masturbate while looking at the photo of me from yesterday,” said Brea.
“Gross,” said Michael.
“Anyway, don’t kiss mom tonight,” said Brea. “The good girl pill she took this morning will have run out, so she won’t be all confused anymore. It will take a while for them to start building up in her system.”
“I wasn’t going to anyway,” said Michael. But the memory of sticking his tongue into his own mother’s mouth brought back an erotic thrill, and his cock stiffened.
Sure enough, when Veronica got home, she seemed sharper and more focused, and she had fixed her shirt. She somewhat awkwardly avoided Michael, and went off to change.
In the kitchen, Brea was cooking dinner – chicken, with a creamy sauce. As she was getting ready to serve it to the family, she invited Michael into the kitchen, and put a finger to her lips – “Ssh.”
“What…” began Michael, and then stopped, mouth agape. Brea had the cup of Michael’s cum that she had dribbled out of her cunt. She was carefully tipping it over their mother’s dinner, and gently mixing it in with the cream sauce.
Then she poured her mother a glass of red wine, took out the soda bottle of Michael’s piss, and poured the urine into the wine.
“You can’t, you slut!” hissed Michael.
Brea only giggled, and took the food and drink out to the table.
Brea may have been well-behaved during dinner that night, but it meant little to Michael. All meal, his eyes were fixed on his mother, as she ate mouthful after mouthful of his sperm, mixed with the sauce on her dinner, and drank from a wine glass full of his piss.
She didn’t even seem to notice. She made no comment on the taste. And with each mouthful, Michael’s cock got harder.
After dinner, he took Brea for a walk to the local park again, and – with her encouragement – raped her and used her as his toilet. He was angry at her for her sexual behaviour with their parents, so he also kicked her hard in the cunt with his shoes on, but that just made her giggle and orgasm. He punched her in the tits for good measure, but she liked that, too.
After they got home, Michael lay in bed, horny, confused, and angry at his sister. He liked the new changes in his life – the frequent sex, the encouragement to express his darkest impulses – but they scared him too. He wanted to really hurt his sister in a way that she didn’t like.
He pulled up the video of her from that morning, where she was masturbating and eating their father’s cum. He remembered how she had been back before she went to college – prissy and stuck up, cruel and chaste and bitchy. She had changed so much. Back then she had been friends with a girl called Morgan – a sexy, full-figured redhead who had been just as much of a bitch as Brea.
Morgan had had a brother Michael’s age, by the name of Harry, and Harry had kind-of sort-of been friends with Michael. Harry had always had a huge crush on Brea, but Brea had laughed at him, calling him a “juvenile turd”.
Michael found Harry in his contacts and, on impulse, forwarded him the video of Brea.
Harry replied back – “OMG WHAT IS THAT?”
Michael replied, “My sister.”
There was a long pause.
Then a video appeared in the chat on Michael’s phone. The accompanying text said “SWEET. THIS IS MINE.”
Michael played the video.
It was Morgan. Completely nude, lying on her back, legs spread, masturbating her exposed pussy. She was crying, tears running down her cheeks. There were splashes of fresh sperm on her face and breasts. She looked at the camera and said, “I deserve to be raped. I like being raped. I’m only good for raping. I fantasise about fucking my father and brother. I give anyone watching this permission to rape me.”
And then she visibly orgasmed.
The video ended.
Michael’s eyes were wide. He pressed the button on his phone to start a voice chat with Harry. When Harry answered, Michael demanded, “What the fuck was that?”
“Cool, right?” said Harry.
“Did… did you do that?” asked Michael.
“Oh, fuck no,” said Harry. “So about a month ago, my sister got raped. Abducted for, like, a whole weekend, except we didn’t notice because she was supposed to go away with friends that weekend anyway. Some guy kept her in his basement and just spent all weekend raping her. Anyway, when he was done, he let her go, except he’d made all these films of her, and he sent copies to me and to mom and to dad – ‘for our enjoyment’, he said. Mom and dad say they’ve deleted their copies, but I kept mine, because they’re hot.”
“Holy shit,” said Michael. “Does she know you kept them?”
“Yeah,” said Harry. “She has to be nice to me now, or I’ll share them. Except sometimes I share them anyway. There’s like twenty separate films. He fucks her, and whips her tits, and pisses on her. And no matter what he does to her, she always cums. That’s the bit that drives her crazy when I threaten to show people. She’s not keen on them seeing her nude or being raped, but it’s the fact she cums from it that really makes her desperate. She’s so embarrassed of that.”
“You have to send me the other films,” said Michael.
“I will if you send me more of your sister,” said Harry. “That was fucking hot. Whose cum was she eating? Yours?”
“Dad’s,” said Michael. “She came from college and she’s, like, a whore now or something.”
“Sweet,” said Harry. “I’m going to cum from that video so hard…”
Michael hung up. It was dark now, and late, but he crept across the hall into his sister’s room, and climbed into her bed.
Brea moaned, and reached for his cock to begin stroking it. “What’s up, brother?” she asked.
He showed her the footage of Morgan, and told her Harry’s story, enjoying the feeling of her masturbating him.
When he was done, Brea giggled. “Oops,” she said.
“What do you mean, oops?” asked Michael.
“That may have been my fault,” said Brea.
“How is it possibly your fault?” asked Michael.
“Well, about a month ago, I was out clubbing at the nightclub all the college girls go to, and I cockteased this guy, and then when I was going home he dragged me into his van and raped me,” said Brea. She sighed. “And he was such a *good* rapist that when he was done, I thanked him, and stayed around chatting with him. He said he was into redheads, so I told him I knew this hot redhead back home, and I gave him my copy of her spare key to her house, and told him her usual habits and so on, and said that she probably deserved to be raped because she was a stuck-up bitch.”
She giggled. “So I guess he took my suggestion.”
Michael looked at her in disbelief, and then slapped her, because it seemed appropriate. He flipped her over – she was naked, of course – and stuck his cock into her pussy and began to rape her.
“But this is such good news,” said Brea.
“Why is that?” said Michael as he fucked her.
“We can make all sorts of videos of me to trade to Harry for the rest of the footage of Morgan,” said Brea. “And then, if Morgan is embarrassed as Harry says she is – well, we’ve found you a new toy, Michael. You can put all your recent training into practice…”
Enjoy this story? Support the creation of more free content through the purchase of an e-book or membership in the All These Roadworks store! (View the store.)
One thought on “Story: Brea Comes Home From College, Part 5”