Spinder
September 4th, 2008, 05:42 PM
This a story I wrote a little while ago... mind you it has a theme that many people will strongly dislike but the focus is supposed to be the emotion, not the violence
***
Several months had passed, and there was no way I could hide it now. Soon, my mother would begin to notice why I was wearing baggier clothes, and gaining so much weight, and suddenly had a strange taste for salt and ice cream. The only thing I was dreading was telling her. She's a strong woman, I have no doubt that she would be there for me during the process, but telling her would probably break her in half. The worst part about telling her was, would I really tell her the truth?
After staring at the ceiling for an undeterminable amount of time, I finally threw the covers away from me, and crawled out of bed. The familiar rumble in my stomach came as I made it to my feet. I pressed my hands to my stomach, and noticed its ever-growing size. Shame filled my face, and cluttered my emotions, as I hurried to get dressed. I tugged on a double XXL pink t-shirt as my mother knocked on the door. Fear froze me in an instant, as her charming, worldly voice rang out to me. "Honey, are you almost ready? I've got breakfast for you downstairs," she stated.
I tried my hardest not to let my voice quiver, but to little avail. "Y-yea-yeah, s-sure mom. I'll... ummm... I'll be down, in ummm,a sec," I responded.
"Ok hun." My mother departed from the door, and relief fell over me, but it didn't take long for panic to sit in either. I took a deep breath.
We're gonna do this today, Janey. We have to. I said to myself, as I straightened my composure and calmly headed downstairs. As I neared our living room, the smell of mom's fresh strawberry pancakes arose to my nostrils, and I was immediately filled with a sense of warmth. Warmth, which I hoped not to be deprived of. My mom made her exit from the kitchen draped in her cook's apron over her purple pajama wear carrying a plate of traditional breakfast food.
She smiled her warm motherly smile, sat the plate down, and gave me a kiss and a hug for the morning. "Good morning, honey," she said.
"Morning, mom," I almost dejectedly responded.
She tilted her head to the right, smiled again, and asked, "Everything alright, honey?"
Before I could even stop myself, and yank the words back into my mouth, and only say them in my head, they flung free. "Mom, I'm pregnant," I blurted out. I cringed at the sound of the words leaving my lips, and didn't even want to look at my mother's face, but when I did, I could see that sense of warmth fade, and out came the look of depression, sadness, and anger. "Mom�"
"You're what?!" she interrupted.
"Mom, I'm sorry�"
"Who?" she asked, cutting me off again. Her stern expression mimicked the one she gave me when I was 8, when I lost the necklace that she got me for Christmas, except I'm almost sure the consequences for this will be much worse. I stood there; too terrified to answer for fear that she would leap towards me with a butter knife and cut the seed right out of me. "Janetta Antoinette Briggs, I asked you a question, damnit!" I hate it when she uses my full name. It's a parental term that no matter how old you are makes you even more frightened of what your parents might do. I stood there silent. Inside debating whether or not I should tell my mother the truth. How I wish I could stand there and say it was my boyfriend Josh, who took me to his house when his parents were out shopping, took me up into his room, stripped me naked, and made wild passionate love to me. How I wish I could say he enjoyed me so much that he couldn't control himself, and he had to explode inside me. How I wish I could say that, but it wouldn't be true. No, the truth isn't even close to that. "Who, Janetta?" my mom asked again.
I so wish I had the spirit that most teenagers do to lie to their parents, but I can't. It's just not in me for some reason. As I gazed upward and laid eyes on my mother's pearl face, her eyes glowing with anger, and confusion and welling up tears from sadness. It took every bone in me to tell her a lie, and still I failed. "It was Mike, mom." I knew for a fact that I should expect the shocked reaction, but the more serious shock was the slap across my face that followed.
"You expect me to believe that it was my own son who conceived that bastard in you?" My mother retorted. It was an instant heartache as she said those words. Despite everything with my mother, she had never said anything so hateful. She turned away from me, and began to sob silently. "Get away from me, Janey. Get away!" she screamed at me. I ran upstairs to my room in a hurry, slammed the door behind me, and fell onto my bed, sobbing into my pillow. It must've been hours that I cried. Still in that time, my mother never came up to my room to console me. I suppose it was ignorant of me to expect it, but you can't blame a child for wondering where her parents are when they're crying. It took a while, but I finally had cried so much that I had fallen asleep, and try as I might to keep it out of my thoughts, the image of that night, that terrible night 4 months ago played over in my mind as if it were only yesterday.
***
"Hey Janey, long time no see," Michael said as he entered my room with a charming smile on his face. He was 21 now. I hadn't seen him in months since he's been away at college.
"Mikey!" I squealed as I ran toward my brother and gave him a big welcome home hug. I noticed how he grabbed my ass as I bounded into his arms, but I naively thought nothing of it.
"I have a present for you," he said, reaching into the huge duffel bag that he had strapped over his shoulder. He pulled out a box no bigger than a doggie bag, and handed it to me.
"Now don't open it until later. When you're just about to go to bed, alright?"
"Sure thing, brother!" I said. Sure-fucking-thing. My brother had never given me a reason not to trust him. There was no reason to start doubting his loyalty now. We ate dinner with mom. We laughed and joked about the good times when he lived with us, and talked about how college was. He had some interesting stories to tell us about the dorm life. Dinner was the norm. We had a good time. Stayed up at the dinner table, long after the food was gone just talking like a family. It wasn't long before that I realized it was nearly one O' clock in the morning. Mom cleared the table, and Mike helped. I retreated to my room for a good night's sleep, and my brother's gift.
I got undressed and took a shower. I dressed in a plain orange tee and a pair of panties. It never occurred to me to wear full pajamas like mom does, because it made me feel hot and downright uncomfortable. Nonetheless, I scurried into bed as usual. I hit the lights except for the one near my bedpost as I prepared to open my brother's gift. Just then, I heard a soft knock at my door.
"Come in," I called.
"Hey sis, did you open it yet?" Mike asked curiously.
"Just about to."
"Great," Mike said as he came into my room, shut my door, and made a space for himself on my bed. I smiled sweetly, and went to open the box. There, wrapped in tissue paper was a three-heart locket. It was a beautiful sterling silver, and had two pictures inside the hearts. One was of my brother, and the other was of me - but the third one, in the middle, was empty.
"Who's the third heart gonna be for? Mum?" I asked innocently.
"Maybe," he slyly responded.
"Well, I love it. Thank you big brother!" I said to Mike as I gave him another hug.
"No problem, sis," he whispered into my ear and then tenderly kissed my cheek. "See you in the morning."
He got up from my bed and walked out the door. I placed the locket on my nightstand, turned off the light, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
As I dreamed of my happy home, and how lucky I was to have a mother who loved me, a brother who was in college, and what a wonderful role model he was, I also neglected to hear my bedroom door open, and I could only give semi-conscious responses to questions like "Janey, are you awake?"
Still, I didn't awake from my slumber to the sound of pants falling to the floor, or the sheets being pulled off my body. However, I did make a stir as my panties were lifted from my waist. Then I felt the stiffness of a raging hard penis invading my body with full force. Suddenly my eyes made their way open, and I could get a glimpse of my ravager. It was Mike, my brother, my very own brother who was doing this to me. He had thrown caution to the wind now as he began to furiously thrust inside me. His massive engulfing form towered over me as he grabbed hold of the back of my head and kept pounding, pounding, pounding me without mercy. He was far too big and strong for me to fight off, and I knew he'd make me regret it if I tried.
"Mike... no... what are you doing?" I barely managed utter out. He gave no response in words, just mere grunts as he slyly smiled again as he continued to rape me. I weakly tried to put my small hands on his hard chest and push him away, but of course, my efforts were in vain. I hated how my body was responding to this. I didn't like it, yet I just kept getting wetter and wetter. Mike appreciated it more than anything. I bit my lip at the sheer magnitude of it all, and the thrilling yet dangerous conclusions it would offer. As my mind drifted back my current situation, my brother was still on top of me, now with his lips pressed against mine, forcing his tongue inside my mouth. Kissing me passionately, and still, raping me. Finally, he pulled his stiff penis out of me, giving me a moment to understand what was going on. I stared at him, trying to look hateful and pissed, but I was more confused and upset than anything. He sat there breathing hard. "Mike, why... no... please... no..." I could barely get the words out, but it was no use anyway.
"Get up and turn around," he told me. I was too scared to move, so after a couple of seconds, he did it for me. He grabbed my waist and flipped me over so my ass was facing him. He caressed it with his hands, then without any moments rest, he shoved his penis back inside me. The feeling was utterly sensational. I choked back moans of pleasure as I was indeed enjoying the feeling, as much as my entire being wanted to deny it, he was fucking me so incredibly good. Then, it happened. He rammed his penis in me so hard that it hit a spot I wasn't even aware of until that night. My entire body shook and my muscles tightened around his penis and all my emotions came flooding out in one magnificent moment. Still, he continued to pound me, squeezing my breasts with each incredible thrust. He was screaming his delight by now, not caring if the world knew that he was fucking his sister because he was fucking his sister. He grabbed a hold of my waist and in a matter of seconds, with a sudden burst of fear and despair, I could feel my brother's semen seeping into my stomach. He was ejaculating inside of me. My very own brother was ejaculating inside of me.
At that moment, it was the most horrible, yet somehow thrilling thing I'd ever felt, but now, now I see the consequences. Mike pulled out of me, and I collapsed onto the bed face first, almost in tears, terrified and confused.
"I love you sis... I love you so fucking much," Mike stated as he slapped his penis across my ass twice and laid down on my back.
He kissed my ear and my cheek a few times and fell asleep on top of me. I couldn't get back to sleep. I laid there all night thinking about what had just transpired. My brother just raped me, and possibly got me pregnant. Yet still, he enjoyed it, the same brother I'd always loved and trusted, enjoyed violating me this way. What began after that was several days of lucid, disturbing, lustful, indecent incestuous sex. I didn't want it at all, but I was powerless against him, and I just didn't know how to tell Mom what was happening to me. By the end of the week I probably had enough of my brother's semen in me to fill a gallon jug. Then, his vacation was over, and he went back to school. Needless to say, our goodbye was a lot more quiet and emotionless than any of the other goodbyes we've had.
His last words to me were: "I can't wait to see what the third heart will look like."
***
Several months had passed, and there was no way I could hide it now. Soon, my mother would begin to notice why I was wearing baggier clothes, and gaining so much weight, and suddenly had a strange taste for salt and ice cream. The only thing I was dreading was telling her. She's a strong woman, I have no doubt that she would be there for me during the process, but telling her would probably break her in half. The worst part about telling her was, would I really tell her the truth?
After staring at the ceiling for an undeterminable amount of time, I finally threw the covers away from me, and crawled out of bed. The familiar rumble in my stomach came as I made it to my feet. I pressed my hands to my stomach, and noticed its ever-growing size. Shame filled my face, and cluttered my emotions, as I hurried to get dressed. I tugged on a double XXL pink t-shirt as my mother knocked on the door. Fear froze me in an instant, as her charming, worldly voice rang out to me. "Honey, are you almost ready? I've got breakfast for you downstairs," she stated.
I tried my hardest not to let my voice quiver, but to little avail. "Y-yea-yeah, s-sure mom. I'll... ummm... I'll be down, in ummm,a sec," I responded.
"Ok hun." My mother departed from the door, and relief fell over me, but it didn't take long for panic to sit in either. I took a deep breath.
We're gonna do this today, Janey. We have to. I said to myself, as I straightened my composure and calmly headed downstairs. As I neared our living room, the smell of mom's fresh strawberry pancakes arose to my nostrils, and I was immediately filled with a sense of warmth. Warmth, which I hoped not to be deprived of. My mom made her exit from the kitchen draped in her cook's apron over her purple pajama wear carrying a plate of traditional breakfast food.
She smiled her warm motherly smile, sat the plate down, and gave me a kiss and a hug for the morning. "Good morning, honey," she said.
"Morning, mom," I almost dejectedly responded.
She tilted her head to the right, smiled again, and asked, "Everything alright, honey?"
Before I could even stop myself, and yank the words back into my mouth, and only say them in my head, they flung free. "Mom, I'm pregnant," I blurted out. I cringed at the sound of the words leaving my lips, and didn't even want to look at my mother's face, but when I did, I could see that sense of warmth fade, and out came the look of depression, sadness, and anger. "Mom�"
"You're what?!" she interrupted.
"Mom, I'm sorry�"
"Who?" she asked, cutting me off again. Her stern expression mimicked the one she gave me when I was 8, when I lost the necklace that she got me for Christmas, except I'm almost sure the consequences for this will be much worse. I stood there; too terrified to answer for fear that she would leap towards me with a butter knife and cut the seed right out of me. "Janetta Antoinette Briggs, I asked you a question, damnit!" I hate it when she uses my full name. It's a parental term that no matter how old you are makes you even more frightened of what your parents might do. I stood there silent. Inside debating whether or not I should tell my mother the truth. How I wish I could stand there and say it was my boyfriend Josh, who took me to his house when his parents were out shopping, took me up into his room, stripped me naked, and made wild passionate love to me. How I wish I could say he enjoyed me so much that he couldn't control himself, and he had to explode inside me. How I wish I could say that, but it wouldn't be true. No, the truth isn't even close to that. "Who, Janetta?" my mom asked again.
I so wish I had the spirit that most teenagers do to lie to their parents, but I can't. It's just not in me for some reason. As I gazed upward and laid eyes on my mother's pearl face, her eyes glowing with anger, and confusion and welling up tears from sadness. It took every bone in me to tell her a lie, and still I failed. "It was Mike, mom." I knew for a fact that I should expect the shocked reaction, but the more serious shock was the slap across my face that followed.
"You expect me to believe that it was my own son who conceived that bastard in you?" My mother retorted. It was an instant heartache as she said those words. Despite everything with my mother, she had never said anything so hateful. She turned away from me, and began to sob silently. "Get away from me, Janey. Get away!" she screamed at me. I ran upstairs to my room in a hurry, slammed the door behind me, and fell onto my bed, sobbing into my pillow. It must've been hours that I cried. Still in that time, my mother never came up to my room to console me. I suppose it was ignorant of me to expect it, but you can't blame a child for wondering where her parents are when they're crying. It took a while, but I finally had cried so much that I had fallen asleep, and try as I might to keep it out of my thoughts, the image of that night, that terrible night 4 months ago played over in my mind as if it were only yesterday.
***
"Hey Janey, long time no see," Michael said as he entered my room with a charming smile on his face. He was 21 now. I hadn't seen him in months since he's been away at college.
"Mikey!" I squealed as I ran toward my brother and gave him a big welcome home hug. I noticed how he grabbed my ass as I bounded into his arms, but I naively thought nothing of it.
"I have a present for you," he said, reaching into the huge duffel bag that he had strapped over his shoulder. He pulled out a box no bigger than a doggie bag, and handed it to me.
"Now don't open it until later. When you're just about to go to bed, alright?"
"Sure thing, brother!" I said. Sure-fucking-thing. My brother had never given me a reason not to trust him. There was no reason to start doubting his loyalty now. We ate dinner with mom. We laughed and joked about the good times when he lived with us, and talked about how college was. He had some interesting stories to tell us about the dorm life. Dinner was the norm. We had a good time. Stayed up at the dinner table, long after the food was gone just talking like a family. It wasn't long before that I realized it was nearly one O' clock in the morning. Mom cleared the table, and Mike helped. I retreated to my room for a good night's sleep, and my brother's gift.
I got undressed and took a shower. I dressed in a plain orange tee and a pair of panties. It never occurred to me to wear full pajamas like mom does, because it made me feel hot and downright uncomfortable. Nonetheless, I scurried into bed as usual. I hit the lights except for the one near my bedpost as I prepared to open my brother's gift. Just then, I heard a soft knock at my door.
"Come in," I called.
"Hey sis, did you open it yet?" Mike asked curiously.
"Just about to."
"Great," Mike said as he came into my room, shut my door, and made a space for himself on my bed. I smiled sweetly, and went to open the box. There, wrapped in tissue paper was a three-heart locket. It was a beautiful sterling silver, and had two pictures inside the hearts. One was of my brother, and the other was of me - but the third one, in the middle, was empty.
"Who's the third heart gonna be for? Mum?" I asked innocently.
"Maybe," he slyly responded.
"Well, I love it. Thank you big brother!" I said to Mike as I gave him another hug.
"No problem, sis," he whispered into my ear and then tenderly kissed my cheek. "See you in the morning."
He got up from my bed and walked out the door. I placed the locket on my nightstand, turned off the light, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
As I dreamed of my happy home, and how lucky I was to have a mother who loved me, a brother who was in college, and what a wonderful role model he was, I also neglected to hear my bedroom door open, and I could only give semi-conscious responses to questions like "Janey, are you awake?"
Still, I didn't awake from my slumber to the sound of pants falling to the floor, or the sheets being pulled off my body. However, I did make a stir as my panties were lifted from my waist. Then I felt the stiffness of a raging hard penis invading my body with full force. Suddenly my eyes made their way open, and I could get a glimpse of my ravager. It was Mike, my brother, my very own brother who was doing this to me. He had thrown caution to the wind now as he began to furiously thrust inside me. His massive engulfing form towered over me as he grabbed hold of the back of my head and kept pounding, pounding, pounding me without mercy. He was far too big and strong for me to fight off, and I knew he'd make me regret it if I tried.
"Mike... no... what are you doing?" I barely managed utter out. He gave no response in words, just mere grunts as he slyly smiled again as he continued to rape me. I weakly tried to put my small hands on his hard chest and push him away, but of course, my efforts were in vain. I hated how my body was responding to this. I didn't like it, yet I just kept getting wetter and wetter. Mike appreciated it more than anything. I bit my lip at the sheer magnitude of it all, and the thrilling yet dangerous conclusions it would offer. As my mind drifted back my current situation, my brother was still on top of me, now with his lips pressed against mine, forcing his tongue inside my mouth. Kissing me passionately, and still, raping me. Finally, he pulled his stiff penis out of me, giving me a moment to understand what was going on. I stared at him, trying to look hateful and pissed, but I was more confused and upset than anything. He sat there breathing hard. "Mike, why... no... please... no..." I could barely get the words out, but it was no use anyway.
"Get up and turn around," he told me. I was too scared to move, so after a couple of seconds, he did it for me. He grabbed my waist and flipped me over so my ass was facing him. He caressed it with his hands, then without any moments rest, he shoved his penis back inside me. The feeling was utterly sensational. I choked back moans of pleasure as I was indeed enjoying the feeling, as much as my entire being wanted to deny it, he was fucking me so incredibly good. Then, it happened. He rammed his penis in me so hard that it hit a spot I wasn't even aware of until that night. My entire body shook and my muscles tightened around his penis and all my emotions came flooding out in one magnificent moment. Still, he continued to pound me, squeezing my breasts with each incredible thrust. He was screaming his delight by now, not caring if the world knew that he was fucking his sister because he was fucking his sister. He grabbed a hold of my waist and in a matter of seconds, with a sudden burst of fear and despair, I could feel my brother's semen seeping into my stomach. He was ejaculating inside of me. My very own brother was ejaculating inside of me.
At that moment, it was the most horrible, yet somehow thrilling thing I'd ever felt, but now, now I see the consequences. Mike pulled out of me, and I collapsed onto the bed face first, almost in tears, terrified and confused.
"I love you sis... I love you so fucking much," Mike stated as he slapped his penis across my ass twice and laid down on my back.
He kissed my ear and my cheek a few times and fell asleep on top of me. I couldn't get back to sleep. I laid there all night thinking about what had just transpired. My brother just raped me, and possibly got me pregnant. Yet still, he enjoyed it, the same brother I'd always loved and trusted, enjoyed violating me this way. What began after that was several days of lucid, disturbing, lustful, indecent incestuous sex. I didn't want it at all, but I was powerless against him, and I just didn't know how to tell Mom what was happening to me. By the end of the week I probably had enough of my brother's semen in me to fill a gallon jug. Then, his vacation was over, and he went back to school. Needless to say, our goodbye was a lot more quiet and emotionless than any of the other goodbyes we've had.
His last words to me were: "I can't wait to see what the third heart will look like."