Tags: incest, M(17)g(11), kinda vanilla other than maybe a trap showing up later maybe

I want more stories where incest hook ups are more deliberate as opposed to "Caught ya naked/masturbating, let's fug." So I tried this out. I set the girl's age at 11, but the way I wrote her dialogue might be more appropriate for like 14 or something. Who knows? I'm new at this and am desperate for feedback

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Everyone's heard the expression of wells running dry, right? What I did was more like filling the whole damn thing up with rocks, or poison. Had no one else to blame but myself, too. Really, man. I didn't realize how lucky I was till after I fucked everything up. I mean, I ended up finding a new well, so to speak, and honestly the set up I've got now is waaayy better. But anyway, I guess I'll start from the beginning, right?

I'm a junior at Cadia Christian Academy high school, and holy shit the girls here are fucking heavenly. Wow, why can't I be witty like that for English class? Anyway, way more often than not the girls are either hot, gorgeous, beautiful, or a combination of all of the above with some cute and adorable sprinkled in. Also, what they say about Christian girls being sluts? True. But, like. They're complicated and contradictory sluts. That's exactly why I'm in this situation in the first place. Wait, was I supposed to tell you more about me before getting to that part?

People sometimes kinda poke fun at me for being the quintessential jock type. I'm not the star quarterback, but I'm tall (6'2"), and I for sure have gains (220 pounds, like 17% body fat or something last I checked). You kinda gotta be big to be a linebacker, you know? I'm not afraid to admit I'm not the smartest dude, either. It took so much God damn effort to get a C in chemistry. And algebra. And history and english and... you get the idea. I'm lucky and grateful for my genetics, though- big and fit, brown hair and blue eyes, and I guess kinda charming? Mainly I just know how to play to my strengths without freaking out when I talk to girls. That's what worked on dozens of Cadia Christian Academy girls, so I'll take it.

I've got a raging libido, so it was pretty damn great that so many girls at CCA were down to fuck or mess around. The key was discretion, mostly. That, and paying attention. It's important for keeping up appearances. Like, say last week I was talking to Esther, this smoking senior girl. On the surface we talked about bible verses and Godly living, mainly so our beloved puritanical teachers and staff wouldn't be suspicious. But, when we started making eyes at eachother, there was a different context completely. At that point, all she had to do was mention how her parents go to bible study wedensday nights, but she st Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

>>A reimagining of Sleeping Sis by Frank McCoy
>>This is largely derivative of his original work.

The first time I came inside my sister was honestly just a big mistake.

I mean, I guess that sounds horrible on a few levels. I suppose it is. But look, in my defense, I was only thirteen, I only barely knew what sex was, and it was all a series of accidents and coincidences.

We lived in the midwest at the time. As I said, I was thirteen, my sister was almost exactly a year younger than me. Our birthdays are on opposite ends of October, and the first time things happened it was in January.

If you aren’t following along, let me spell it out for you- it gets fucking cold in January, which is nine months before… alright, fine, you get it.

Sarah slipped into my bed one night when the wind was howling outside. We would (that is to say my father would) find out the next day that a piece of the roof had actually been blown off, and that it was creating a draft in her room. All Sarah knew was that it was really cold, and she’d been banned from sneaking into our parents’ bed a few months earlier.

She had a habit of doing that. Especially during storms. But Mom had put her foot down and insisted that at twelve years old, Sarah needed to stop bothering them at night.

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I decided I may as well share what I write when I decide to write something. Most of it will be Futa on Male but anything with MaleSub in it will be included. Anyway, here's the first one involving a dominant Futa and her apparent bitch.

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Call girl - A short story.
Tags: Futa on male, futadom, reluctant

The phone rang.
I don't know why, but there was always this sense of anticipation and dread I have with picking it up. Not knowing who it was and knowing who it could be was almost a game of Russian Roulette I had with myself. Now, it happened almost daily. I picked up the phone Gun to my head - pull the trigger. "Hey there, moll" a feline, scratchy yet appeasingly seductive voice replied, female in nature.
Boom.
"Uuuuh, hey… Tash." I responded, not unnerved but unhappy. "Parents are gone. Come around" she demanded in a domineering tone. "Uuuhh, look, Tash… I don't know about today, it's not really a good t-" "Come around" she repeated, cutting me off. "Tash, I was just about to say that I don't really want to because I'm really busy, and… you know"
There was a disenchanting silence - shredding any hope of worming my way out.
Defeat.
"No. I don't. Come arooound" she said again, this time with the last word drawn out, as if she sounded wanting, but not desperate. "I know you really, really want to" she claimed, her voice thinning to an innocent tone. She was pulling all the strings for this one. She usually did.
"I just-"
"Come around"
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Since the old thread finally hit the bump limit, I'm posting the entire story so far in a new thread, minus the comments, so that I can continue to work on the story.

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It all started when I was 19, in my first semester at college. I'd moved away from home and into my first apartment, and got my first roommate as well. He was a year younger than me, but unlike me he hadn't spent a year after graduating highschool saving up his money for tuition and rent. His parents died in an avalanche at a ski resort, and between their considerable savings and the payout from the life insurance, he could afford college and not have to work for years. I hadn't known it when I met him at orientation and we decided to share an apartment, but he also had custody of his 11 year old sister.

The apartment was big, and nicer than I could have ever afforded on my own, so all three of us had separate bedrooms (hers was supposed to be a laundry room or something originally.). I also discovered my roommate was a bit of a dick who neglected his little sister.

I don't think it was intentional, more a result of losing his parents and having to adjust his plans for the future to revolve around caring for his sibling, and he probably wasn't ready for that sort of responsibility. But unless he needed to give her a ride or buy her something she needed, he basically didn't interact with her. He also barely did anything with me; maybe once a week he'd play video games with me, but he spent nearly all his time in class or shut in his room studying.

His little sister was cute, with her blue eyes, freckles, and short, light brown hair, but obviously way too young for me. She didn't play with dolls or anything, so I guess she was mature for her age, but she also spent all her time shut in her room when she wasn't at school. And I don't think she had any friends at her new school either.

After a month or so with my new roommates, we'd settled into a routine. If they weren't exactly friendly, they weren't bad either; quiet, clean, and they were the only way I could afford a really nice apartment just a block from campus.

I wish I'd known then what I know now. It'd have saved me a lot of grief.
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Not sure what to say about this one. Not sure if I'm gonna write a second part. Just watched a French series where the characters were refreshingly honest about their selfishness, even if that made them a bit of an asshole. Figured I'd give it a try. There's no justifying this, so why bother trying?

*** *** *****

The movie had been typical summer stupid, but not offensively bad, so Brian and I just shared ironic looks while the others gushed about how awesome it had been. As usual, they immediately started talking about where they wanted to go drinking that night. I amused myself by people watching. The theater at the mall was almost perpetually filled with teens on dates, roving packs of jailbait, and little lolis dragging their parents to the latest Pixar knockoff. All I had to do was put on a bored expression and I could enjoy the view with no one being the wiser, so long as I didn't focus on anyone too closely.

I didn't chime in on my coworker's deliberations, which surprised exactly no one. They always talked about how I was so chill, and how I always just went with the flow. The truth is, I didn't give a rats ass where we ended up, and I only came out on these little outings so I wouldn't seem antisocial. I like my coworkers well enough, and it's worth a night of tedium every now and again to keep up good relations, though only just.

Brian broke off from the debate and struck up a conversation with me about True Detectives. He was the most irascible fuck I worked with, sarcastic, short tempered, and he looked like a bald, lumberjack version of grumpycat. He was also one of the most observant, empathetic, and thoughtful people I had the privilege to know. He put up a tough facade, and he'd make fun of you mercilessly if he knew you could take it, but he also was the first to recognize when someone was on the verge of a meltdown at work, and he always seemed to know just what to say. He always stuck up for the little guy, and made sure no one felt left out. He was just plain good people, and I was glad to know him. He also scared me, because I often felt certain he understood me better than he let on. I'm pretty sure he had me pegged as closet homosexual, and I tried to encourage that assumption. It was a hell of a lot better than the alternative. So we chatted for a bit about how surprised we were to realize that Matthew McConaughey was not only a real actor, but a fucking amazing actor at that, how fucking good the writing was, and what an oppressive mindfuck the series was, as a whole.

That was when I saw a familiar face, and realized something was odd. I wasn't sure why the woman had caught my eye. She was pretty enough, but nothing remarkable, and a bit old for me anyway. She was walking out to the parking lot, pulling her keys out of her purse as she walked. I couldn't quite put my Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

"Hi brother, i just got home from the club, i'm drunk and high on MDMA and i was hoping you could give me a foot massage and rub my back too".

"Oh my god, that feels so good when you rub your hands between my inner thighs, baby brother!" she ccried out, and humped her hips forward, pushing her brother's hand directly into her vagina lips. She turned around to look at him and noticed a massive erection in his pants. "Want me to help with that, baby brother?" she spoke softly and then pulled off his shorts, and pushed him down, then got on top and straddled him. She slowly lowered herself and impaled her pussy with his rock hard erection and then started riding it like a mad woman in heat. "This is the world famous cock ride you've heard about" she grunted at him, "and i'm gonna make you CUM within 30 seconds, baby!!" and then her brother's eyes started bulging out of his skull and it happened. THE EJACULATION was HAPPOONING, and he blasted 20 huge loads into his sister's hot vagina and she threw her head back and roared in agony as she rode her baby brother straight thru the gates of heaven into infinity. Once they had both returned to earth, they were sopping wet, and semen was all over the place. "That was the best orgasm of my life! And we are going to fucking ride each other's brains out for the rest of our lives together, every single day!" she told him.

Mg

Inspired/influenced by the biggest masterpiece of our time, "Roommates", is an attempt at the genre of my own (though nowhere as good as Roommates). Takes place in an unnamed Scandinavian country; it's my first story and English isn't my mother language so it's probably pretty stiff.

Day one

Like many other places around the world, Japanese culture had become rather popular in the capital of my country, so a number of years ago, a two-day open-air Japanese culture festival had popped up to be held every spring, in one of the bigger parks close to the center of the city. As a closeted weaboo, it was only natural for me to go there. The first year I went alone, not having any friends at the time also into Japanese stuff. The festival was pretty typical, I assume, with Japanese food stalls, different games for the kids, and performances of martial arts, dances and so on. In contrast to “real” festivals in Japan, however, this was held during the day.

The stalls and performances were okay, but what really caught my surprise - and interest - was all the cosplay taking place, so I spent most of the two days looking at that. It was a real thrill to see my favorite characters being brought to life, but I was too shy to approach any of the cute girls walking around. Talking with someone one-on-one would have been okay, but they were always in groups with their friends, so I didn’t know how to join in, especially just when I was just wearing plain clothes.

So with nothing much happening, I skipped out going for the next couple of years. Entering university, I made a circle of fellow weeaboo friends and one of them suggested that we go to the festival that year. Figuring it would be better to go with someone else than alone, I agreed. Barely anything at the festival had changed, perhaps for some furries having showed up for some reason. After making our round to visit the stalls, we kept our eyes out for any cute girls to chat up. However, even though we could now act as wing-men for each other, we didn’t have much luck in getting to know any of the cosplayers. First of all, most of them seemed to still be teenagers, while we were in our early twenties, and once we did find someone our age, they had obviously gone to the festival to flirt with strangers. It probably didn’t help that we were not cosplaying ourselves, but we thought that that would be overdoing it.

The following year, my friend suggested we go again, and with nothing else to do, I agreed. An extraordinarily warm day for spring, I showed up earlier than planned, and wandered around while waiting for my friend. That’s when I saw her for the first time. In the midst of the sea of middle-aged people studying the exhibit of a Japanese garden, and the cosplayers with their big, complicated costumes, I caught a glimpse of a simple and traditional sailor school uniform. The pureness o Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

CHAPTER ONE — SELF-DISCOVERY

(teen girl solo; bestiality)

When she got off the bus, there were no cars in the driveway. When she lingered in the foyer, there were no sounds echoing through the house. When she called out to announce that she was home from school, nobody answered: She was well and truly alone... and, as usual, she planned to take advantage of that! During summer break, Riley's parents tracked down somebody to check in on her throughout the work day—but when school was in session, they found it easier to let her play latchkey kid for two or three hours following the end of a school day. After all, how much trouble could a 14-year-old girl get up to on her own?

Riley hurried up the shag-lined stairs to the second floor, spinning around the banister at the second-story landing and bustling into her room at the end of the hallway. She nudged the door open and deposited her backpack on the ground, kicking her shoes into a lonely corner while she unbuttoned her jean shorts and wiggled out of them. She lingered for just a moment in front of her full-sized hanging mirror, turning this way and that in her pink polka dot undies.

It had been a summer of changes: No longer was her body a flat line! Her hips had flared noticeably, and she'd grown a small A cup's worth of chest practically overnight. There were bigger girls at school, for sure, but the jiggly new boobs she'd cultivated between June and August earned her plenty of attention at school. Just the other day she'd worn a bright blue bra beneath a white tee, and she'd noticed a boy in her history class eyeing her and fidgeting in his seat every few minutes. Riley decided that it was nice to be appreciated.

She'd also managed to wear her mom down over the better part of three months, and just before school resumed she'd cut her chest-length hair short—into a cute little pixie 'do—and bleached it a very flattering blonde. She thought the platinum matched her blue eyes nicely.

Riley peeled her panties off and tossed them in a wad into her half-full hamper, scrutinizing her sex in the mirror. She thought it looked nice, with tiny little lips tucked neatly together—though her clitoris was a little more pronounced than she'd have preferred. A little tuft of dark-brown hair had started to come in at the top of her vulva, and she regularly waffled between shaving it and letting it grow out. Riley thought it made her look sort of... mature? And besides, nobody else was getting a look at it anytime soon, right? Who would she even be shaving for?

Right. Deciding she'd dithered long enough, Riley climbed into bed and settled her back against the wall of pillows that dominated the head of her bead, spreading her legs apart and hiking her knees up. She shut her eyes and let one hand wander down to the tippy top of her sex, planting two fingers ju Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Fairly simple story I wrote most of earlier in the year and managed to finish up in time for Christmas.

My complete stories can be found at https://anonympc.asslr.org/ now, since ASSTR's still down.

Disclaimer: While the main character of the story (and his family) are Catholic, I am not. I tried to portray the observances relatively accurately and with respect (the poor decisions engaged in are on the individual characters). Still, as an outsider (and one influenced by pop culture depictions over the course of a lifetime) at some point there's decent odds that I inaccurately portrayed either Catholic doctrine as it's taught, or how people generally practice. So if you think I got something wrong... well, I actually didn't, because I'm the author and have the luxury of saying that this takes place in a parallel universe where my version is accurate. So there. But still, apologies in advance for any perceived flubs (and, as my 7chan posts I often treat as sort of a beta-round before the official version of the story is posted, if you spot anything I can quickly fix without requiring dramatic rewrites, please point it out).

Not The Best Catholic This Christmas by AnonyMPC (Mf, inc, cheat, Christmas, some implied others)

"You're wearing THAT to Mass?" my wife asked.

I looked down at myself, as though just realizing that I was wearing a long T-shirt and cargo-shorts that went down to my knees. Which I was, but mostly I was trying to figure out if it could somehow get me out of this. "What's wrong with it?"

"Very funny. Go. There's still time to change."

So I did. She was my wife, and this was Church, and no matter what had happened, I didn't think I could or even should get out of it.
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This post destroyed a world of warcract fanfic. Gone forever. Lmao