-	Disclaimer      - 
This piece contains content not suitable for readers under the age of eighteen (18). Themes include pedophilia, incest, rape, and – worst of all – cuckolding. You have been warned.
I do not condone any of the actions performed by the characters.
Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Except maybe imagine that the father has sort of a Jake Gyllenhaal-ish look to him, if Jake Gyllenhaal was a cat. Okay? Thanks. Enjoy. 

Black and White
By Vook Valentine

I am a thirteen year-old male cat. As most of my family, I am endowed with full white fur, a large tail and perky ears. I go to school; my favorite subjects are math and English. I play video games. I have few friends, and I have previously been bullied, but I’ve learned that if I keep to myself, I will mostly be left alone.
My afternoons are slow and silent. I read a lot; comics and the likes. We live in the suburbs and we have a wide garden with a swing set, a tree house and a sandbox. By now, my sister and I are perhaps a little too old to waste our time with these things, but when we were younger, we played a lot there. My fondest memories are of tumbling through the grass, playing tag with her, ending up holding her down in jest. She would scream for our mother and mother would come and calmly tell me to play nice with her. Then mother would serve ice cream on the veranda. I would apologize and my sister would hug me, knowing I would stand up for her any other day.
My sister and my mother are both uncannily beautiful. Their perfect white fur is rare and it is a sight that could make anyone shiver. I’ve seen men turn their heads for my mother on the street. I’ve heard people talk about how lucky my father is. Hell, I think my father is lucky. She is a classical musician and makes a living off playing the cello in the local orchestra. It’s not like it pays well, but her parents are wealthy, so she’s never had any issue getting by. She’s thirty-nine years old, but her body still radiates with fertility. The way she moves when she sits with her instrument between her legs... Her very body is music. 
My sister looks like her and will surely look as stunning when she grows up. She is eleven years old. She wants to be a musician like our mother, but she doesn’t really spent the time practicing that I think is required. Her attention span lends itself better to gymnastics and swimming; things where she gets to move. Mother usually jokes that when she grows up, being nimble won’t be as easy. She still enjoys the lack of breasts and hips. She just says she’ll adjust her balance to it when they come.
I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. But I’m sure I’ll figure it out along the way.
I make it sound like our lives are perfect, but they aren’t. That’s just the way I like to think about it.
Our family isn’t exactly dysfunctional. It’s just that it seems my father doesn’t like the thought of the rest of us being happy.
My father is a tall, broad-shouldered man who works as a lumberjack, just outside of town. He is forty-seven, so he is well older than mother. Unlike my mother and my sister, he isn’t merely white. The tips of his ears and his tail are black along with several specks on his body.  
I have black markings as he does. People say I look like him. I hope I don’t. I honestly think that he looks like a big, fat idiot. But maybe that’s just because I hate him. He hit me when I was younger. He still slaps me when I don’t do my homework. He cuts off my internet and takes my video games when I curse at the dinner table. 
Not to mention that I have a strange disliking to the fact that his dick is bigger than mine is. An odd thing to dwell on, you think? Well… I guess I’m just odd like that.
I am a pervert, to put it mildly. Most of my friends at school still think the idea of masturbation is disgusting. Only some of them have carefully admitted to trying it. Either they are lying, or I am the only one who’s been at it every day for the last year. And I suppose you could imagine… one unsanitary thought easily leads to the next. I suspect that having a well-developed sexuality at my age is rare.
I’ve just recently started actually ejaculating semen. That was an adventure all to itself. I spent a week trying to figure out why exactly a mere liquid could be so… exciting. They’ve taught me at school that this stuff makes babies. I don’t exactly like babies, but the thought of leaving your mark on a girl… that can get my heart caught in my throat. I’m not misogynistic or some such. But when I look at girls, I can’t help but feel an urge to… mistreat them, for lack of better words. Own them.
But then, of course, reality hits me, and I’m just a little boy; most of the time I don’t have the balls to even talk to girls. 
I’ve told one person of my habits. A girl at school that I liked. We were friends. We’re not anymore. I suppose I should feel regret, but it’s not like I need friends. When my dad doesn’t find a way to ruin it, it’s not like I’m lacking emotional closeness.
My sister keeps me company in my room when I’m lonely. She’s not annoying; she is perfectly good at behaving herself. And my mother’s arms feel like nothing short of velvet heaven. 
I mostly think about the two of them when I masturbate. I was reluctant to at first, of course. But knowing just how much I’m supposed to not do it…
I’m just a spiteful ass. And I just can’t stop myself from doing what I’m not allowed to.
For instance, this morning I’m waiting for my mother and my sister to eat cereal with milk that I came in before I went to bed last night. Everyone else was watching TV in the living room, right next to the kitchen, while rubbed one out, thinking of this exact moment. I stuck my dick down the carton and dumped three days’ worth of cum.
I am understandably sticking to just bread. My father rarely eats breakfast before going to work; he sleeps in and eats when he gets there, so there is no chance he’ll get a taste of it. 
My mother is still at the counter, preparing lunch for us, wearing an apron. While I’m eating, my sister sits down beside me. She is wearing short overalls; they’re not exactly stylish, but she claims that they’re comfortable. I can’t help but imagine what’s beneath.
She has just poured her sugar. 
Her soft smile and her wide eyes are entirely clueless. Her batting tail is as excited as I am. She pulls her chair closer, leans in, lifts her spoon and bites down. She always eats like she’s been starving. She’s wolfed down four or five spoonfuls before she hedges. Milk escapes the corner of her mouth and strikes a subtle contrast against the white of the fur on her chin. Her nose creases as she examines the spoon with overplayed curiosity. “Mom,” she says. “The milk tastes weird.” Her tail has stopped batting and is frozen, alert.
I stiff up. I might have misjudged the amount of milk left in the carton. I didn’t want them to actually notice.
“What?” my mother says. Her tail slithers after her with grace as she turns to walk to my sister’s side. “Has it gone bad? That’s weird, I bought it yesterday.” She picks up the carton and puts it to her nose.
“Do you think it smells bad?” my sister asks me. “Taste it!” She lifts the bowl and practically shoves it into my face.
“Ew, no!” I pull away and drag my plate with me. “I don’t want to smell sour milk.”
“Smells fine to me,” my mother says and takes a swig straight out the carton. She wipes her lips and a few drops fall on her apron. “You’re just a picky little girl,” she laughs as she runs a hand through my sister’s hair.
My sister sighs and pulls back her bowl. She eats the rest of it without complaint.
Needless to say, my pants can hardly contain my dick at this point. My cum is inside the two of them. My sister is smiling, happy and content, tail once again batting. What a little slut.
My stomach sinks as I hear the sound of heavy footsteps. My father enters the room. He has certain all too firm way of pulling a door handle.
He yawns and looks over the gathering.
“Good morning,” my mother says on a light note.
“Good morning,” he says back numbly. He walks to stand directly behind me. “Hey.” He grabs my shoulder firmly. “Did you finish that school assignment? The book report?”
I solemnly keep to my food, trying to look as small as possible. “No.”
The grip tightens. “You promised you would. You don’t have time today. I need you to help me clean out the cabinets in the living room.”
I honestly don’t remember promising anything. “I can’t today. I have an appointment with a friend just after school.” I really don’t want to spent my afternoon cleaning anything. Regardless, I did make an appointment, one I’d hate to cancel.
“Listen here,” he says, pulling my chair back and placing his hand on the table. He fixes my eyes with his. “When you say you’re going to do something, you stick to your word. And when you don’t help around the house, you disappoint me and your mother.”
My mother steps over and places a hand on his back. “For the love of God, go easy on him. Let the boy go to his friend’s house.”
My sister chimes in. “I’ll help clean the dumb cabinets.”
He bares his canines only for me to see. Fury burns in his eyes for a moment. Then he let’s go of me. “Fine.”
For a second, I actually hope that he will be thirsty enough to drink some milk before he goes, just so I can silently gloat at his ignorance. But he doesn’t. He’s out of the front door within the next minute.
I can’t concentrate on anything regardless. As my mother starts eating cereal as well, I get too aroused to sit still. My mother says something. My sister answers. I don’t care. They are both sluts. And they are the most amazing people in my life. If I hurry, I can go masturbate before my mother drives us to school on her way to work.
				
●

My friend cancelled our appointment, ironically because he had to help his parents paint their garage. So I’m free to go home and clean cabinets, if my dad is prepared to make me. I get off from school at two o’clock. I don’t remember what I’ve learned. What meets me when I arrive erases any feasible chance of me recalling. 
I entered silently, because I know that if I’m lucky I can get to my room without anyone knowing I’m actually home. Consequently, I fail to interrupt something I’m sure I wasn’t meant to hear.
I’m not an idiot. I know what fucking sounds like. Either my father is cheating on my mother or people broke into our house to have sex. Whether I want to or not, I just have to get a closer look, don’t I?
I can get into the attic from the outside of the house. From there, I know there is a single crack in the floorboards large enough to peek through. My sister and I discovered it years ago. I make my way there, putting every ounce of effort I have into not making noise.
And as I look, my heart stops.
My dad is fucking my sister.
His fat cock is ramming the life out of her tiny pussy. She whimpers like a chew toy beneath him. She’s so small compared to him. She is grasping the bed sheets, biting her lower lip, yet her breath escapes her, staggered and anxious. He has dressed her up in long socks and pigtails.
You don’t have to be a genius to figure out that it has been going on for some time. He only needs one or two words for her to know exactly how to move. She raises her rear for him, waves her tail at his nose and pushes against him when he thrusts.
I am angry. Not for the reason you might think. No, I am angry because recently, he caught me looking at porn on the internet. He told me all sorts of ridiculous stories of how porn ruined you and skewed your sense of reality. He was apparently outraged at the content itself, calling me a perverted bastard. It sickened him that I would dare look at pornography involving siblings and the likes.
I almost did feel shame then. For “borrowing” my mother’s and my sister’s underwear. For enjoying the thought of them walking around with my dried up cum against their pussies. For honestly considering procuring some heavy sedatives to actually try burying my dick in either of them. For toying with the thought of impregnating them with fucked up babies, no one suspecting that it was me.
I found myself casually wondering why I was so fucked up. Why I was doomed to walk around always pretending I found things disgusting when in fact the very repulsiveness gave me solid hard-ons. 
But the exact reason that I am such a perverted bastard is apparently that my father is one twice over. 
“Tell me you love daddy’s cock,” he says, in a voice that sounds surreal to me.
“I love daddy’s cock,” she whispers. I can’t decide how sincere she is. I hope she isn’t. And at the same time, I hope she means it with every inch of her body.
At this point, any rational boy my age would be calling the cops. My sister didn’t choose this. She’ll probably be left crying herself to sleep tonight. Instead, I choose to quietly zip open my pants and start stroking my dick. 
I imagine it’s me. I imagine she’s sweating there, beneath me, giving me those doe eyes. The body that she’s usually using for backflipping and splitting in gym class, now being split by a full-grown dick. Her body isn’t meant for it, she’s all too young, yet she manages to beg for it.
“Tell me I’m better than mommy!” she cries and runs her nails over his chest.
“You’re better than mommy. Fuck…! Get up and open wide.”
She gets on her knees, folds her hands in her lap, closes her eyes and opens her mouth. “Ahhhh,” she says as she sticks out her tongue.
He makes her gasp as he pulls her up by a pigtail. He rubs his dick furiously and moments later, he ejaculates forcefully over her face, her tongue and her chest. Her breathing speeds up as she opens her eyes. She closes her mouth, swallows audibly and licks her lips. “Thank you, daddy,” she gasps as he lets her drop.
Meanwhile, I return to reality. I’ve merely coated the floorboards in front of me in streaks of cum, when the moment before I was on the bed in the room beneath me with my dick buried in my sister. I’m hit by post-orgasm remorse. But only for a few moments. My father is taking pictures of my sister. She is showing off the cum stains before they dry up in her fur. She is arching her back and poising her tail at graceful angles.
I pull out my phone. I’m not sure I can get any reasonable pictures through the floorboards, but I’m sure they will be valuable in some way regardless. Though the pictures turn out blurry, you can tell that it’s my father and my sister.
I’m hardly distracted for long. My sister’s wringing is enough the revive the erections of both me and my father. He doesn’t even clean her up, before shoving his cock inside her once more. She starts whimpering again, on cue. But she’s hesitant. When she looks at him with her doe eyes, the next moment biting the pillow beneath her seems preferable.
And finally, she cries. Faintly and still with a smile, but crying nonetheless. He doesn’t care. He might even be enjoying it. He keeps thrusting. I keep thinking that he must be hitting her diaphragm, so short she is. I take a few more pictures. 
My erection turns hesitant as well, as he turns from being rough to outright mistreating her. He pulls her hair from behind and his fingers grasp around her neck. His thumb finds her anus and digs in.
As he seems to near his limit, he grunts. “The line. Say it.”
“Da… daddy… Please cum inside. I haven’t gotten my period yet, so it’s sa–…” She gets cut off as he empties himself inside her. 
I’m afraid the neighbors can hear him groaning.
“Fill me up,” she squeals, almost in defeat.
The two of them land among the sheets. He on his back with the sliver of a grin. She on her stomach with her legs spread, trying to catch her breath. Cum is spilling out of her.
I came again as well, but it was nowhere near as good as before.
I silently retract from my vantage point and put my back against the wall. 
I know I’m supposed to be at my friend’s house right now, so I set my mind to making up lies about what I’ve been doing there, should I be asked. It’s convenient, as I think it’d be best that I wait until they’ve cleared out of the room below, before I make my escape.
				
●

It’s evening. The whole family has just eaten dinner. It went as it always did; in fact the mood seemed lighter, me being somewhat an exception. My sister blabbered about her friends at school. He inquired to the state of our homework. To my luck, it seems I am off the hook regarding my book report. The deadline isn’t far off, but I do have some time. My mother – sitting beside me as always – seemed happy. I wonder how happy she would be if she knew what I knew.
Now, I’m standing in front of the door to my sister’s room. I don’t usually knock, but this evening, I feel the need to. I tap twice in a casual manner, as not to imply urgency.
“Come in,” she calls out.
I enter carefully. She’s on her bed. She’s been practicing on the guitar, but at the moment it has been cast carelessly aside. She’s on her stomach, texting on her phone in her overalls. She is wearing her hair in pigtails again. She wasn’t at the dinner table. She looks up and smiles at me.
“What’s with the hairdo?” I ask as I sit down beside her.
“What’s with your stupid face?” she grins, her eyes once again locked on her phone.
“You look cute,” I say, putting my back against the wall behind us. I can see the perfect curve of her rear, her tail slowly wavering. She moves her leg and as her muscles tighten, I find myself recalling her bare fur. I recall her writhing, her whimpering. I recall her drenched in cum. I get aroused and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “You don’t call me cute. You call me an idiot and then you ask me to play one of your dumb video games with you.”
“Right.” I hesitate, considering if I should ask just that, for the sake of the familiarity. “Thanks for taking the cabinet duty off my hands earlier. Was it as boring as I imagined?”
“Eh,” she says, shrugging. “Wasn’t that bad.”
Quiet settles for a moment. I gather myself. “You know about sex, right?” I ask carefully. I feel awkward. It comes out of nowhere, without context, she must think I’m an idiot.
She pauses briefly. “Yes,” she says, not looking up from her phone. “I know about sex. I’m not an idiot. What of it?”
I almost bite my tongue off. “Have you been… having it?”
She takes a long, deep breath. “Here’s a question. Why do boys like porn where a girl finds a boy’s pornography lying around and then decides she wants to fulfil every fantasy involved? And how normal is it for it to involve brothers and sisters?” She shrugs. “That was actually two questions. Sorry.”
My heart sinks and I can feel myself start to sweat. “Did you find my porn?” Do I even have porn lying around? I don’t think so.
She snorts and gives me a patronizing look over her shoulder. “You have a folder titled ‘Not Porn’ on the desktop of your computer. Did you think I was going to not open it?”
Oh. That. When has she been on my computer? It doesn’t matter. I jokingly named the folder that, thinking I’d be the only one to ever see it. Luckily, she doesn’t seem outraged. “No, I don’t know why boys like that. No, I don’t think it’s normal.” 
She puts down the phone, pushes herself upright and turns towards me. Her tail bats in a hypnotizing pattern. “I think I know why boys like porn like that. Because they hope that someone will find it. And that she will decide that she is a horny fucking slut as well.”
I’m stunned. She is frowning. I can’t tell if she is angry. “I’m not sure what to say. I didn’t mean for you to find it. I’m sorry.”
She laughs. “Don’t be sorry. All men are massive perverts. Why would you be different?”
I bite down, taken by reflex. “I’m not like dad. Don’t imply that.”
Suddenly, she’s the one stunned. “What? What do you mean you’re not like dad?”
“You’ve been having sex with him.” I’m too sudden. But I had to say it.
Her expression turns blank. “How do you know about that?”
“Well,” I say, trying to be delicate. “It’s not exactly hard to be less noisy than you.”
“You were there earlier today,” she says, casting her eyes down. She bites her lower lip.
I place myself closer to her and put my arm around her.
She gives me a stern look. “Don’t tell anyone, please.”
“You’re sure we shouldn’t…” I say, thinking that if she is unhappy, we’d better do something about it. But as my mind runs wild, she doesn’t let me finish the thought. Her hand is suddenly on my crotch.
“You have a goddamn erection,” she whispers. Then she lets go. “Fucking hell. Perverts. All of you.”
My arousal only gets fiercer at the touch and I stutter. “I can’t help it.”
She sighs. “Yeah, there is only one way to help it, isn’t there?”
I stay quiet, still unsure, still paralyzed at my inappropriate excitement. I want to help her, but I also want to… Her body is just… so… My pounding blood is almost giving me a headache.
“It doesn’t have to be violent, does it? Sex?”
I try my best to focus. “Of course not. People who love each other have sex.”
She gives me a chiding look as if I’d made a bad joke. Then she seems to ponder. “Sometimes I could doubt if dad loves me.”
“Yeah, he’s a real asshole, isn’t he?”
She gets up and stands before me. Then she starts undressing. I don’t know if I should stop her. She unbuttons her overalls and pulls them off. She drags her t-shirt over her head and she is left standing in her underwear. It is white, like her. It is a pair I’ve “borrowed” before and the sight hardly helps the turmoil I’m feeling. Her naked chest looks soft, oh so soft.
Her ears flicker in nervousness, her tail is a humble motion through the air. I hardly recognize this girl, yet she is beautiful.
“You’re not an asshole, are you?” she asks. “You love me?”
I’m not breathing. “I love you. I don’t know if I’m not an asshole.”
“Why don’t we find out? Take off your clothes.”
I still do nothing and it’s getting embarrassing at this point. I hesitantly push myself up, lacking any shade of confidence.
She sighs once more, puts a palm in my chest and pushes me down. She unbuttons my pants for me and pulls them down. She puts her fingers around my solid dick and slowly examines it. “So small,” she says flatly.
I feel a vicious sting. “A boy doesn’t really like to hear that.”
“Sorry, I mean… compared to dad’s.”
“Doesn’t make it better.”
She gives me an earnest look. “No really, I think I could enjoy smaller. It’ll hurt less.” Before I get to respond, she places her tongue against me and runs it from my balls up my shaft. I quiver at her wet touch. “Doesn’t taste much better.”
“Sorry, I haven’t showered since yesterday.”
“It’s fine,” she says with determination. “I’m not picky.” Then she wraps her lips around me and sinks to its base. She closes her eyes and her tongue goes to work. Soon, she forces herself against me, as if to check if I reach the back of her mouth. I do only barely.
She retracts as she feels my shivers. Her fingers find their way to the shaft again and stroke gently as she speaks. “Are you going to cum right away?”
“What?” I am in fact on the verge of an orgasm. What did she expect? My sister’s saliva is on my dick.
“The first time dad stuck his dick in my mouth, he came twenty seconds later.”
“Shut up,” I gasp and push her head against my crotch. She lets me inside her mouth again. I raise my hips as I hold her head in place. “Drink it.”
She nods faintly as I cum inside. I’ve never had an orgasm like this before. I’ve cum today already, of course, so the volume is nothing impressive. But she gives me the doe eyes and I feel like I could empty my entire being into her twice over.
She waits to make sure I’m finished and then pushes herself upright. She pushes her tongue against her cheek, seemingly pondering. She frowns as she runs the cum through her mouth. After what seems like forever, she finally swallows and my stomach sinks once more at the thought that part of me is inside her.
“Did you fucking cum in the milk this morning?” she asks with narrow eyes. I let my mouth hang open for a second and apparently my silence is answer enough for her. “I thought it tasted weird.” She scowls and pokes me with a finger. “That is disgusting. Don’t do that.”
“Yes,” I say, finally collecting some confidence. “That is what is disgusting here.”
“You’re far more disgusting than me,” she says certainly. She pokes my persistent erection. “That didn’t help much, did it?”
“You may have made it worse,” I smile faintly. “You’re wonderful.”
“You’re really strange today. Calling me cute and wonderful.”
“Again. Hardly the strangest part of today.”
She pulls up beside me and dives under the covers. “You should get under here, just in case. Mom or dad could come in.”
I’m hardly sure that’s enough to ensure safety. I have been known to sleep in my sister’s room, when she’s been having nightmares, but it’s been at least one or two years since the last time. I get out of the bed and hold my pants up as I go to turn off the lights. At the bed’s side, I take off my clothes swiftly and kick them halfway under the bed along with hers.
I pause where I stand. Standing naked before her is an odd sensation. “How long until our bed time?” 
“An hour? Two?”
I think for a moment. “I suppose if we’re smart I go to my room now. Then I come back when we’ve ‘gone to bed’.”
I can’t see her face, but I know she’s pouting. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Fine,” I say. I lay down beside her and start crawling under the sheets. “You explain why your brother is in your bed at this time.”
“Hold me,” she says solemnly. In the darkness falling around her, I see her wide eyes search for mine. I crawl in, dig my nose into her ear and breathe her scent. I’ve longed for my body against hers. Not just to arouse me, but also to make sure her heart is pounding safely within her chest.
She purrs ever so faintly and puts her arms around me. She pulls me in and I fall between her legs. The heat of our bodies between the sheets… I’m hesitant to run my hands over her. Ironically. I’ve just ejaculated in her mouth, there should be no reason to hold back. I feel her underwear against mine. My hard dick against her. With my arms around her, I dig my fingers through the fur on her back.
She runs a hand up my neck and our eyes meet. She touches her nose to mine and then hesitates briefly before our lips touch. My heart skips a beat.
“Touch me,” she whispers and takes my hand. “Take off my panties.”
She runs my hand down her stomach and it finds the fabric of her underwear. I pull up her legs and pull them off. My fingers find their way back between her legs. I slip inside her and find her unexpectedly wet. I can’t help but think that it might be our father’s cum still in there. But my erection could not care less at the moment.
She whimpers and the scene from earlier today plays in my head once more. “Does it hurt?” I ask.
“No,” she says, slightly less certain than I could hope. “Keep… keep going.” Her hand finds my dick and I can see her faint smile at my erection. “What are you waiting for?”
I lean forth, poise my dick against her pussy and try to imagine the times that I have seen this done before. I press my hips against her and I sink in, making her squeal, slightly too loud. She puts a hand over her mouth. 
I stop. “Sorry.”
“Nono,” she assures me and holds me tight, wrapping her legs around me. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I slowly keep going and her faint whimpering seems like mere breathing. She bites my shoulder, a little harder than what’s comfortable, but I don’t stop her. I’m buried in heaven and if it wasn’t because I’d just orgasmed, it would have long been over. 
“Want me to do any lines?” she asks.
“What do you mean ‘lines’? You say what you feel like saying.” Of course, I wouldn’t mind a line. Something about her wanting my dick in her tiny pussy. Something about how large my dick is, even if it isn’t. But I want it to be honest. It’s not honest, if it’s a line.
“Dad taught me lines. He says they’re important.”
“Make up your own lines.”
She hesitates briefly, then whispers. “I want to make babies with you.”
And it seems that’s enough. I moan as I cum inside her. For a second, I wish I could make babies with her.
“Already?” she asks as I pull off her.
“Yeah, well, don’t do lines then.”
 She giggles faintly. “How long before you’re ready again?”
About an hour later, our mother knocks on the door. My sister calls her in and she stands confused for a second before turning on the light. It’s slightly early for our bedtime. Then she smiles as she sees us lying under the covers, me holding her from the back. 
“Aww, adorable,” she says. “Goodnight, you two.” Then she leaves, turning the light off again.
I almost got nervous, considering I have my dick inside my sister still. But I can hardly imagine pulling out of her. She is just too wonderful.
				
●

This becomes a habit. Neither of us seem to be able to help ourselves. Our rooms are right next to each other, so going unnoticed is no feat. I can’t help but feel she would be worse off, if I didn’t come to visit her at night. In a way, I’m still living a dream I’ve had for long. In another, I’m getting steadily more anxious. 
She still sleeps with our father. I try to talk to her about it, but I only get very little information. It started somewhere around two or three months ago, the day after her birthday. It happens twice a week, when she gets off school early. Other than that, she prefers not to talk about it. She still doesn’t want me to tell anyone. Did she decide that our father’s advances aren’t all that terrible?
I can’t very well just go behind her back, because technically… what has he done that I haven’t?
We go through the day as we always have, the whole family. Our father yells at our mother and us. Our mother just smiles and happily prepares lunch for us before we go to school. My sister and I jokingly snap at each other in the car. She still rarely plays my video games with me when we get home. And I still don’t jump at the prospect of helping her out with her homework. Maybe we sit closer in the couch when we watch TV. Maybe she leaps to my defense in front of our father more often. But I don’t think you’d notice a difference.
Not unless you were watching when I fuck her. She is loosening up. She is less fragile. She is getting creative with her lines. I’m getting the sense that she is not turning our father in, because on some level she enjoys it. She is merely spiteful as well. Just as spiteful as me.
She likes the thought of giving me something that our father thinks is only meant for him. 
We lie beneath the covers in the living room, seemingly keeping each other warm in the evening’s cold. We’re watching a movie, the news or something else, we don’t care. What’s important is that our father is in the same room as us. Silently and out of sight, I run my hand down her underwear and slide into her. She is good at keeping a straight face, but if our father is watching her… him knowing how she looks in sexual arousal, he might see the slightest hint of her smiling. He might sense, if not know, just how sincere she is, here in my arms. And he will feel it gnaw and tear at his heart. He thought he had power, but then there’d just be a flicker of evidence that he had none.
I don’t think she can have an orgasm, being forced to stay quiet like that, but it seems to still resonate through her body long enough to have her more frisky when nighttime comes and I visit her room.
She’ll call me “daddy” and tell me she wants my cum inside her more than his.
I still feel guilty at times, but I’m more of a pervert than I am a saint. So why not abide to my nature? She knows that this is who I am, why would she have any illusions? It seems that we’re more alike than I first thought.
We both tempt fate. And eventually, it will come back to bite us.
				
●

It’s been three or four weeks of mischievousness. My sister is sucking me off in the bathroom. We have locked the door, but going to the bathroom together in the middle of the day begs the risk of being found out regardless. Our clothes are thrown carelessly on the floor, she is wearing nothing but a pink set of underwear, probably still stained with my cum.
I run my fingers through her hair, groan lightly and curl my toes at the feel of her tongue against me. I watch the way her back curves, how her tail in a half-circle completes her figure. How her hair falls before her shoulders, how she lids her eyes and caresses my thighs with her hands. I long to fill her up. Her muted moans convince me that she longs doubly so. Excitement begets excitement and I feel like telling her what to do.
“Take off your panties.”
She obliges, rolling back on her rear, pulling them over her legs. I take her hand before she tosses them aside and guides it to my still hard dick, wet from her mouth. She wraps the panties around it and they soak up her saliva, clinging against me. The fabric between her fingers and me yields a sensation of victory. I have been doing this on my own, now she does it for me. She starts rubbing, putting her lips against the panties, both a soft pink. They belong together. Maybe she is thinking about the taste of dried up cum in them. Maybe she enjoys it, maybe other enjoyment overshadows it.
Either thought puts me on the edge. I want to make a mess. I want her to put on the panties afterwards and carry my mess with her.
A heavy knock on the door shatters the very air. We both freeze, her lips around her panties on my dick. My heart sinks in my chest.
“Hey,” our father calls out, no less coarse than what we’re used to.
“Yes?” I respond, trying not to sound like I’m on the verge of orgasm. I let out a faint gasp as my sister keeps going, seemingly deciding the risk isn’t dire enough to stop.
“Have you seen your sister?” he keeps going. “I can’t find her. Your mother needs her.”
“I don’t know where she is.” It’s like she’s forgotten he’s there.
“That’s strange,” he mutters, seemingly calmer, calculating. “You’re sure…” He coughs intrusively. It’s almost comical. “You’re sure that she’s not in there?”
“No… what? Of course…” I stutter. She has taken a liking to being nosy, it seems. “She’s not in here. Why would she be in here?”
He fiercely thumps the door again twice. “Open the door. You’ve been in there quite long enough.”
“No!” I burst. This is, of course, a mistake on my part.
There is a dreadful breath of silence. Then the door crashes open, the lock breaking as our father puts his shoulder against it. It bangs against the wall and a moment later silence falls again.
Our father is looking at me sitting on the toilet with my dick in my sister’s mouth.
She doesn’t retract, only freezes in place.
“You little fucking freak,” he roars as he launches forward and grabs me by the neck. She and I are torn apart as our father drags me out of the room. I catch the sight of her sitting with wide eyes, almost confused. She looks longingly after me, almost as if she still hasn’t realized that we were found out.
I’m on the verge of crying. Mostly because I realize, however faintly, that I will not be visiting her at night again any time soon.
				
●

He has locked me in the office. Not even my room, so I can pass the time reading or playing video games. I only have my phone, which actually has a parental lock, because why would one need a phone to have fun? I can play Snake on it. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. I’m sitting on the guest bed, having one hell of a time.
Before he left, he told me to “think about what I’ve done”. What a goddamn idiot. 
I actually tried to humor him again, the first five minutes. To feel remorse. But all I could think about was how that rat is capable of keeping a straight face, telling me I’m a bad person. The bastard is probably repeating the exact scene right now. Face-fucking her in the bathroom, telling her that having sexual relations with me is wrong. All I feel is remorse that I never called the police on him. But then, if my sister would hate me for that… She doesn’t seem to dislike him as much as me, in spite of all sensible thought on my part.
If I could just… bash his face in. My insides turn as I grit my teeth.
There is a swift knock on the door. It’s funny how easy it is to tell who’s knocking in this family. This is my mother. She is gentle and careful.
“Honey?” she says. Her voice is blissfully hesitant. Like velvet.
“Yes?” I set aside my phone.
“I think we need to talk.” She sounds nervous. Somewhat sad. My stomach twirls in a new sensation of dread. Even if I am terribly anxious, I still somewhat relish the thought of my father’s seething anger. He deserves frustration. But my mother. I would never want to disappoint her.
I naïvely assumed my father would try to keep my mother out of it; being afraid that he would be found out. But apparently he knows no fear.
“Bring it on,” I mutter, trying not to let my anger show. 
She grabs the door handle, but has no luck opening the door. “Let me in then.”
I smile ruefully. “I can’t. It’s locked from the outside.”
“Oh, you’re right.” She finds the key in the lock, turns it and enters, calm and steady.
She sits down beside me in the bed. Seeing her actually warms me up. My insides settle down. I want to grab her full tail, disappearing in her fur. I want her to wrap herself around me, shield me from everything.
“What did you do?” she asks softly.
“I don’t know. What did dad say I did?”
“That you were… doing inappropriate stuff with your sister. Stuff brothers and sisters aren’t supposed to be doing with each other.”
I don’t know what to say to her. She is probably right. “Maybe. What do you care?” A stupid thing to say. I want her to care.
“I don’t think we should be having secrets in this family. And… sex is a… dangerous endeavor.”
No secrets? What about her own husband? “What are we going to do about it? Ground me for a month? Send me to a therapist?” And why is this all being pinned on me? “What if she put me up to it? What if she is as fucked up as I am?”
“Then I’ll be having this talk with her as well.” She sighs and puts her arm around me. “And I don’t think you’re fucked up.” She squeezes my shoulder and presses my body against hers.
“Then you don’t know me,” I say, more calm than I probably should be.
She bites her lower lip. “I don’t think I do, no.” She hesitates. “Tell me then. How did it start? How long?”
No secrets, huh? ”It started with…” I stop myself. I have to spill my guts here. My sister will have to forgive me. “You know he’s fucking her too, right? Dad.”
She looks blankly at me. “He… he’s what…?”
I pick up my phone and find the pictures. “He’s probably doing it right now. Knowing you’re in here with me. That’s a good fifteen minutes. It’s not like he needs more.” I hold the phone for her to see. She carefully takes it. Still blank, she flicks back and forth between the pictures. She stares, frozen, on one where he’s balls deep inside her.
She lets go of me. She leans dejectedly against the wall behind her and runs her hands through her hair. “God fucking dammit. That man. He fucking swore.”
I have to frown. “He swore? Swore what?”
“That he wouldn’t touch her.”
I’m missing something here. Why would my mother ever have felt the need to make him promise that? “What the fuck kind of conversation culminated in that?”
“Your father is…” She seems to hold back. Then she sighs again. “Your father is a pedophile.”
“No shit.”
“I’ve always known. But I nurtured a faint hope that we could have a normal family regardless.”
“Why? Why did you marry a pedophile?”
“Well…” She wrings her hands. Still hesitating. “I’m not exactly… I used to…”
“Yes,” I say impatiently. I’m dying with curiosity.
“When we met I was seventeen. He was twenty-five. And he was interested exactly because… I was a minor. And he told me. And… at that time…”
“No secrets,” I say with raised eyebrows.
“I found it exciting.”
My goddamn dick. Once again, it’s on the move. “You didn’t.” I can’t imagine that. Just the way she said it. Her finding anything… exciting is surreal. Somehow, it makes more sense for my sister who is naturally excited.
“We did a lot of… unhealthy things. But I thought we grew up. I thought we were going to keep up our act. That… asshole. That’s not who we are anymore.” Her face curls up in what might be anger.
“Why are you mad at him but not at me?”
“Because adults are supposed to have… self-control.” She makes a sound of what I first think is pleasure. My guts stir in what’s no longer anxiousness but a reflex of delight. That can’t be right. I must have heard wrong.
But then I notice that her hand is between her legs.
“I am a bad mother,” she says. “A bad, bad mother.”
“No,” I say, without focus. I only see how her thighs are clenching and her back is arching. It’s subtle, but still contagious. “You’re not a bad mother.” 
She pushes her voluptuous breasts forward. I can’t help but think they would fit perfectly in my hands. “You really think he’s having sex with her right now?” she asks. She’s giving up hiding it. She is moving her hand between her legs. “Do you think he’s fucking her? Traumatizing her? You think she will grow up to be a whore?”
“Mom?” I ask, for some reason trying to stay rational. “Are you alright?”
“I’m horny,” she snaps.
“You were the last sane person in this family,” I mutter. But I don’t really care anymore.
“Shut up.” She looks me in the eye. I’m sure she can tell I don’t want to stop her. “You didn’t finish your story. Tell your mother how you ended up fucking your little sister?”
I take a nervous breath. “I caught dad with her in your bedroom. There is a crack in the floor in the attic. I masturbated while watching them. He’s taught her a lot of… tricks. On one hand, I want to make sure she’s not hurt. But on the other…  I want to try them.”
She groans. “Go on.”
I can’t think straight. My mother is worse than I am and the thought is riveting. “So I go to her room later. I ask her what the deal is. ‘Why are you fucking dad?’ She doesn’t want to say…” I pause. “Regardless… she asks me if I love her. I tell her yes. And she says she wants to find out if all guys are as big assholes as he is.” 
She hisses through her teeth. “My god, you are adorable. And…?”
“And apparently, I’m better than dad.”
She closes her eyes and lets her mouth hang open. “Of course you are. That worthless asshole. Keep going. Tell mommy how bad you’ve been.”
“I’ve been touching her in the living room. Right next to you. Under the covers. She loves hiding it.”
“More.”
“I’ve masturbated into the milk she and you have been drinking.”
“Oh god, I’ve been drinking your cum?”
I nod. She unbuckles her belt, unbuttons and puts her hand down her pants. She starts rubbing at an aggressive pace.
“I have been masturbating in your underwear.”
“Yeah, you have, haven’t you?” She reaches out and grabs my arm, one hand still in her pants. “Get over here.” She pulls me in front her. As her breathing speeds up, she touches my crotch. “Jesus. Boy’s your age don’t get this hard.”
“How would you know?” I suddenly feel like there’s so much about her past I want to know. What is she implying? That she’s touched several boy’s my age? Her only answer is a knowing look; narrow, inviting eyes.
“Want to fuck mommy?”
I grin in disbelief. “You didn’t want to have a normal family?”
“Right now I want revenge. He thinks he can fuck his daughter without me finding out. I’ll fuck his son.” She reaches out and resolutely pulls my shirt off, throwing it aside. “Whip it out,” she says. In my delirium, I want nothing but to do what she says. You don’t disobey your mother. She runs her hands over my chest as I take off the rest of my clothes.
Soon, I’m on my knees in front of her, naked. She is still touching herself, looking at my quivering erection.
“You are a little pervert,” she says. “Your own mother.”
I raise my eyebrows defensively. “My own pedophile mother.”
She closes her eyes and smiles. “That’s me.” She pulls her own shirt up so that it rests above her breasts. Her bra catches them as gravity pulls at them. My heart reaches a crescendo as she reaches behind her back and takes it off. I can’t remember when I’ve last seen my mother’s bare breasts. I remember nothing like this; inviting and soft. She pulls off her pants, leaving just her underwear. Her hand dives back down and keeps working. Her legs are spread, her other hand is caressing her nipple. Her ears are humbly lowered, her tail waves me on. This is my home, where I want to fall down and disappear. “Go ahead,” she says. “You can do what you want.”
I dive in, placing my face between her breasts. I feel her legs against me and my groin tightens up as I fight to contain myself. Her tail rolls up against my rear and caresses my back. I have to purr. I see nothing but her whiteness. I run my hands up her body and push her breasts against me. I hold my breath, I don’t need air. I run my tongue over her, tasting her fur. I pull back and start wetting her nipples. On some level, I wish she had milk for me. I suck on them and pretend. She hums soft notes of pleasure, as if she’d sing me to sleep.
I stand up, running my erection against her.
“Oh my,” she says at my dick so close to her face. She lifts her breasts against me. Moaning, she presses them together and I shudder along with her. The sight of her below me, my dick safe between her breasts makes me feel… calm and potent.
She lets go and shoves her nose beneath my balls.  
“Where has this been last?” she smiles.
“Your daughter’s mouth.”
She keeps humming happily, as she puts her lips against it and takes in the taste. As she cups my balls with her fingers, she envelopes it with her mouth. She slobbers on it like she can’t help herself. I feel her claws on the inside of my leg. Her fingers reach my rear. She spreads my cheeks. And suddenly my body freezes. The tip of her finger enters my anus. Just barely, but enough for me to jolt and push all too forcibly against her face. She coughs and pulls back.
She retracts her hand. “You...” She mutters, tightening her lips nervously. “You don’t like that?”
“I…” Mostly, I was just surprised. “I don’t know.” I think about it for a second, not recalling any idea of what context the act would entail. I shrug, thinking a boy should be making his mother happy. “Try. Careful.”
She nods and leans back in to put her lips around my dick once more. Slowly, her fingers find their way back to my rear. “Relax,” she mumbles with her mouth full. I try, as she enters once more. It’s an odd sensation, but as I relax, it’s not as bad. It’s… distracting, even if she is just an inch in, but I might be able to get used to it.
All the while, she is touching herself. She is pushing her breasts against my legs, letting her tongue reach my testicles. Something she probably wouldn’t have been able to do if my dick was bigger. But I can hardly focus, being on the verge of orgasm. My sister did leave me without release.
She pulls away and catches my eye. “Nuh-uh,” she says. She must have felt me trembling. “Not yet. I want you all up in daddy’s territory.” She pulls her finger out of me and drags me down on my knees. She runs her hand over her panties. “You came in these?”
I nod. Black lace. I definitely did.
She pulls them aside, baring her dripping pussy. “You think cumming in here would be better?”
I nod more enthusiastically.
She reaches out and puts her arms around me, pulling me in. “Aww, it’s been thirteen years since you’ve been there. You must have missed it.”
Clumsy, lacking patience, I poise myself against her and push. The next moment I’m inside her and we gasp in unanimous pleasure. I start thrusting, more excited than ever. She is softer than I could have imagined. She’s pushing my face into her chest again. I hold her legs against her shoulders. I want to explode in and over every part of her.
“Your finger,” I say, consumed in excitement. “Do it again.”
She smiles and with steady breathing, she moves her hand to my rear. She must be able to tell I’m far gone, because she is hardly careful. She digs in, as far as her finger can reach. She’s done something right, because that’s the straw that breaks me.
“Cum inside mommy,” she whispers.
As she pulls out her finger, I cum and I pump burst after burst into my mother. I pull out, wanting to show her. I coat her pussy, her panties and her stomach, a volume I didn’t know I had. She’s a sugar-coated wonderland, panting, happy that I’m satisfied.
She puts her hand to her pussy and smears it, seeming to savor the warm feeling of it sticking to her fur.
I collapse beside her, breathing heavily, as she keeps playing with herself. I look at her, she is so beautiful, admiring my work.
After a minute of silence, I speak. “Was that a one-time thing? Should we try for a… normal family?”
She shakes her head carelessly, as if she didn’t quite hear what I said. “Nono, it’s alright. Just say to. Mommy will be there to make her boy feel better.”
				
●

We talk when she’s come to. When she’s stretched her legs, caught her breath and collected her mind. She doesn’t seem to regret anything. I feel relieved; I want to relive what just happened. But the looming anxiousness persists as well. Even if she has… unsavory tendencies and feels she can be intimate with me, she might be sane enough to realize that the same doesn’t necessarily apply to my sister. I ask if I’m still in trouble for what I did with her. She says no. I ask what we do about her and my father. 
We agree one thing is clear. If my father wants to punish me, it’s not because he’s trying to save either me or my sister. It is because he wants my sister to himself. She whispers gently, stroking my hair. “You have your heart in the right place. Your father… I’ll figure out what to do.” I hope she is right. And my mother… Even given my father’s hypocrisy, she couldn’t exactly claim to have the moral high ground, could she…? 
				
●

At first, we need to pretend that my mother has chastised me, of course. I’m sent to bed early without dinner.
Just when the hunger is about to get unbearable, I hear a careful knock on my window.
With the same care, I open the window and see a smile in the evening darkness.
It’s my sister. She’s got a bag in her arms that smells a suspicious lot like grilled cheese sandwiches. I smile back.
“Hi,” she says. She sets the bag on the windowsill and leans into my room. “Sorry for getting you in trouble earlier.” She’s wearing a skirt, wonderfully edged out at this angle. Her waving tail is holding it up, making me ponder if the cool air is giving her chills.
I shrug, for a moment smiling to myself at the fact that it turned out a lot better than expected. “Don’t act like I’m not just as much at fault.”
Her smile curves in an awkward gesture. “I could have stopped. We could have made it look like we just happened to be in the bathroom together. Weird, sure, but not inexplicable.”
“I’m sure he knew regardless. He would have been on the prowl at another unfortunate time.”
“How would he have known? We’ve been careful.”
I squint and shake my head gently. “No. No we haven’t.”
She considers my words for a moment. “He has an uncanny sense of smell. Maybe my…” She nods down. “You know. He could tell you’d been there.”
I put a palm to my temple, closing my eyes. “Ew.” I breathe in deeply. “Did mom send you here?”
She nods. “She did.” I have trouble reading her expression. Are her ears poised shamefully or chidingly?
“I told her about you and dad.”
“I know.”
I pause. “Are you mad?”
She trails off for a moment, as if considering it. “No. It’s not like the skies have fallen down or anything. I thought the police would be crawling the place. But no. Nobody is tearing each other’s eyes out.”
“Mom is mad at him.”
“She is?” she asks, as if genuinely surprised. “Why?”
“He’s mistreating you.”
She tightens her knuckles and curls her lips inwards. “He’s in love with me.”
“Are you sure about that?” I must tread carefully. “He’s poisonous.” I put my hand over hers. “He’s in love with your ass and your flat chest. He’s in love with the fact that you’re eleven years old.”
Our eyes meet. “You think my chest is flat?” She pulls at her top and looks down herself.
I widen my eyes in disbelief. “You look perfect. Calm down.”
She leans back in, sighing. “Fine, you think he’s an asshole, I understand that. But. You.” She puts her hand to my cheek, in an all too patronizing manner. “Why do you love me then?”
“For your stupid spitefulness,” I say without much thought.
“Ha. Fair.” She rolls her eyes at the sky. Her hand still burns against me. Her eyes shimmer and she smiles ruefully. “Besides. You and mother. It was somewhat unclear… but I think that she wanted to imply that you and her. You know. Got it on earlier.”
My heart sinks by reflex, but I regain my words within seconds. “Yes. So?”
“We’re all the same,” she says musingly. “We’re all perverts. Why do I have to be the victim? Why do we have to keep secrets from each other? We can just be honest and enjoy ourselves together.”
I’m stunned by the sudden suggestion. I feel reluctance at the strange feeling it invokes. I feel everything about how our family was until now, compared to how it would suddenly change. Nothing would be the same. But before I can consider whether I could conceivably be alright with such a change, it becomes obvious to me that it is impossible. I am still surprised that my sister doesn’t see it. “I told you,” I say with care. “Dad isn’t cut out like that. Why do you think he punished me but not you? He doesn’t care about honesty. He just doesn’t want to share.”
“He did ‘punish’ me,” she snickers, making quotation marks with her fingers. Then she shrugs. “But… I suppose you’d prefer if it was just you, me and mother then? You don’t think that maybe…” She wags her rear and tosses her ears in a challenging gesture. “Maybe. That you want her and me to yourself. Just like dad.”
I feel a riveting surge. Yes. That is what I want. “Maybe. If it can’t be otherwise. But I certainly wouldn’t be telling you what you can and can’t do.”
“Are you sure about that?” Her rear and tail still sway at a hypnotizing pace. “You don’t want to tell me and her what to do? You wouldn’t want to forcefully suggest… something quite unsanitary. And watch us do it for you, because we’re good at doing what we’re told?”
She’s trying to give me an erection and it’s working. I want to hold it against her, but I can’t. It’s come to be another reason why I love her. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t say. Out here in the open, who knows who could hear us? I should be decent like mother.”
“Mother?” I chuckle. “She isn’t decent. I’d say that she is more indecent than you. By far.”
She frowns as if I’d mentioned her flat chest again. “Dad would disagree with you.”
“Maybe mom doesn’t feel like being indecent to dad,” I smile. “Maybe dad is lying or confused.” 
“Such injustice!” she yelps. “I so am way more indecent than you could imagine.”
I doubt it. She has yet to be faced with my most unsanitary fantasies. “Only one way to find out.”
She smiles as if I’ve pulled a most elaborate ruse. “You don’t say.”
Suddenly, there’s a muffled sound from around the house somewhere, akin to a door being opened. We turn our heads in a snap.
“I have to go,” she says, before leaning in and giving me a quick peck on the lips. “Enjoy the food.”
“Thank you,” I say as she darts off.
				
●

The next day is Sunday.
I am woken up by the sound of quarrel in the kitchen. I hear my father as well, but my mother is the only one loud enough for me to hear. “You promised me that you would keep your fucking dick on a leash!” I hear the sound of glass breaking on the floor. “At the very least, you could have fucking told me. We could have done it better, if it had to be done. We could have done it together.” I hear my father grumble in apparent defeat as she continues. “Worst of all, your fucking charade is making our boy miserable. You told him he’s despicable? How fucking dare you? You’re a joke to him, you know that? He knows about you and her and it’s absolutely hilarious that you expect him to believe what he did was wrong in the light of that.”
They keep at it for a few minutes. Then I hear doors slam shut and quiet falls in the house.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but even after this, I’m lazy enough to doze off, hoping to catch another ten minutes.
It’s probably been way more than ten when I feel hands shaking at me and hear my sister’s voice. “Get up. We have the whole house to ourselves.”
I groan in tired delirium. “What… did mom leave as well?”
“No, stupid. Mom is in the living room.” She sounds excited in a way that leaves me confused.
“I… what?” I force myself upright and rub my eyes. When I see my sister, at first I’m sure I’m still asleep. Then, as I blink and make certain my muscles obey me, I steadily realize just how awake I am.
She is standing proudly at my bedside. She is wearing blood-red lace underwear, something someone her age is not supposed to wear. She is wearing matching long gloves and stockings, tight in exactly the right places against her lean muscles. Where in the world do they make this in her size?
It’s probably what father makes her wear. She’s wearing her hair in her usual pigtails. I never specified how much I love that, but I suppose she’s just that smart.
I’m still blinking with my mouth hanging open. I feel like an absolute idiot.
“How’s the morning erection?” She cocks her head to the side and skews her tail coyly, as if she isn’t perfectly aware what she’s doing to my nether regions.
“Shut up,” I manage to say, probably as numbly as I feel.
“Get up, mom’s waiting.”
“For what?”
“For us. Hurry up, you don’t need to get dressed.”
“But…” As I toss my legs over the edge, my sister and I both become all too aware of my erection. I feel like prancing around with it would be embarrassing. But then I remember what I’ve been doing with both my mother and my sister, and I remind myself that embarrassment is moot.
I get up as my sister giggles and I follow her out the door.
				
●

My mother and my sister are conspiring, that much is clear. Mother is wearing a getup mirroring my sister’s exactly, complete with pigtails, excepting that hers is light blue and that she is wearing glasses. They are her reading glasses. They make her look like a teacher, of sorts.  She is sitting on the living room table with her legs crossed expertly. Beside her is a piece of paper on which she’s scrawled a few notes with a pencil.
As I enter after my sister, our mother can’t help but smile at my erection. I still manage to feel embarrassed.
“Sit down,” she says, nodding towards the couch in front of her.
We both do as told, though my sister a sight more calmly than me.
Our mother glances down at the paper. She sighs and seems to reconsider. With almost wet eyes, she gives us the perfect motherly smile we know too well.
“You now both know how much of a fuckup I am. I am a sexual deviant of caliber, perhaps even worse than your father. At first it was my plan to raise you oblivious to this. To give you perfectly normal lives. But your father decided getting his dick wet was more important, and it seems you’ve taken a liking to deviance yourselves, even showing a surprising maturity in the matter. So I figured that we’d make the best of it.”
My heart is caught in my throat. I’m excited and anxious in numerable ways. I have to concentrate something fierce to catch the meaning of her words instead of thinking of what the two of them are wearing.
“Now, even though I know it takes a lot of the fun out of sex – I know sex is best when it’s all you’re not supposed to be doing – we have to put the cards on the table and establish some ground rules. Your father has decided to be an uncooperative twat, and at the moment there seems to be nothing I can do about that. He can get in on this when he stops being a stubborn ass.”
I cough timidly. “This being…”
“Us. Having intercourse.”
I nod.
She continues steadily. “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, in any way, shape or form, you are perfectly free to stop being involved. You can go to the police, if you’re so inclined. But remember. This is very illegal. On two accounts. You are both minors. And you are our children. Your father and I would face a lot of time in jail. You probably wouldn’t see either of us ever again. You’d be sent to other families, probably not even together and you would undergo intensive therapy. They will tell you this is wrong, and you will believe it eventually. It may or may not be a better existence, but it will be one in which we are not together. If you want this to go on, you cannot tell anyone. Ever. Do you understand?”
The weight in her words has us both sweating.
“Yes,” my sister says.
“Yes,” I agree, after having thought for a moment. 
“Now that that’s established. We need to talk sexual preferences. Fetishes. Dos and don’ts. Everybody’s needs will be accommodated, and no one is to be made to do anything they’ve not agreed to.”
“What if…” my sister butts in. “I like being made to do stuff I wouldn’t otherwise have done?”
“How old are you again?” Our mother squints kindly, but shrugs it off. “That isn’t exactly uncommon. But even so, there must be limits. What would be taking it too far?”
“I uh…” my sister stumbles, something I don’t find her doing often. “I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it.”
I interrupt, surprising myself. “We appreciate the thought, but… I’m sure we’ll be assertive enough to let you know when we’re uncomfortable. Why do we have to overcomplicate it?”
My sister shoves me playfully with her elbow. “You’re just afraid we’re about to rule out something you want to do.”
Our mother raises her eyebrows curiously. “Ohh, interesting.” She inspects my faltering eyes. “She appears to be right. What would you like us to do for you?” She snickers and I once again feel embarrassment well up.
“I’m… not sure I want to say.”
“Oh come on,” she says, her voice lighting up. “Don’t be shy.”
“It’s probably something cum related,” my sister says, and I tense up fiercely.
“Cum related?” Our mother narrows her eyes.
“Yeah, the porn on his computer. Like, half of it involves some spectacular use of cum.” For a fleeting moment, I could strangle her.
“His porn? Tell me more about his porn.”
My sister makes a huge show of trying to remember exactly what she’s seen. “Yeah, if it isn’t some mother or little sister getting pounded in the butt, it’s some poor girl getting drowned in cum.”
I grind my teeth. “Shut… up.”
“No, don’t listen to him.” My mother is wearing a devilish grin. “Keep going. Pounded in the butt figuratively, or actual anal?”
My sister’s grin is doing its best to outshine my mother’s. “Oh deep, deep butt-anal. No way those girls can sit down weeks after that.”
“My my. Anything else?”
“Underwear. Pigtails. What I already told you.”
“Yeah, the pigtails he has from his father. Same with the underwear, the stockings and the gloves.”
I hate being compared to my father. The way they smile at each other, pushing forth their chests, knowing just how… on point they are, makes me want to... Curl up and die where I sit… and rape their slut faces. Yes. Why don’t we get to that part?
“Jesus Christ,” I say, trying to shake off the embarrassment. I turn to my sister. “What about you. What do you like? Do you have any porn, or do you just help yourself to other people’s porn.”
She pauses, before speaking carefully. “Being held down. Biting, scratching. Being bit and scratched.” She looks down, not entirely without shame. “Cum in my mouth… Incidentally.”
“That’s hardly your biggest kink,” I butt in, relishing the opportunity to tease her.
A hint of a glare surfaces. “What? What are you thinking of?”
“Maybe you want to be told what to do. But you also want to do so behind someone’s back. To be secretive about it.”
She seems to want to rebut for a moment, but then holds herself back. 
“Really?” mother asks. “You were the one to suggest we stopped going behind each other’s backs.”
“I…” she says pensively. “I mean, even if I like being secretive, it doesn’t mean I like seeing you being chastised for little to no reason.” She turns back to mother. “And I mean… the secret was already out. I’m not naïve.”
“No, you certainly aren’t.” Mother glances at her notes. Then she grabs a pencil and jots down a few words. “We can, to your luck, probably keep secrets from your father for a little while. That is, until he wants to do this on my terms.”
My sister smirks ruefully.
Mother taps the pencil on the paper, lost in thought. “So, that is a decent foundation I assume.” She hesitates. ”Nothing involving… other bodily fluids?”
My sister and I look at each other, confused. What does “bodily fluids” refer to if not cum? Oh…
“No,” mother says somewhat nervously, before we can answer. “I see.”
“What about you?” I ask. “What are your dos and don’ts?” 
After a brief moment, she gives me a certain look. “You’re going to be hard-pressed… To find something that I don’t like. But of preferences, I am partial to little cute things on leashes. And to… you know...” She makes a rolling gesture with her hand.
“Boys my age.”
She shrugs. “And girls.” She coughs, eying me closely. “So, now that you’re the man of the house…” She glances at my sister as if to look for approval. “Where do you suggest we start.” She lights up, seeming to remember something. “The thing… that you were afraid we wouldn’t let you do. I almost forgot.”
“There’s no…” I try, but then I stop myself, not feeling like lying. There is something. I might as well. How bad could it go? “I would like…”
“Yes?”
“…to cum inside your ass…”
Mother nods, but then realizes I’m not finished. “Yeees?”
“…and then…”
My sister is losing patience as she chimes in. “Yeeeeees?”
I turn off every part of me that wants to stop and take a swing at it. “…have the other drink it out of there. There. I said it.”
My mother laughs softly. My sister forcefully shuts her eyes and gasps in disbelief. “You are… so fucking disgusting.” Then she shivers, seeming to gather herself for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she suddenly reclaims her smile, looking at mother. “Let’s do it.”
I feel a rush of victory mingling with my shame. I’m not sure I actually believed she could stomach it.
“Really,” mother asks incredulously. “You’re sure about that?”
My sister nods. “Yes. If… you start, at least.”
“I can do that. But then you still have to… take it up the butt. Have you tried that?”
“Uhh…”
“I can’t imagine your father haven’t done… the thing with his thumb.”
“Oh yeah, that. I haven’t done any more than that.”
Mother lifts a finger. “In that case you’re going to need some instructions. Nothing is worse than having sex interrupted by silly formalities.”
I sigh. “Kind of like this whole ordeal, huh?”
“Impatient, are we?” She reaches out and ruffles my hair. “Half an hour and we’ll be ready.” She turns to my sister and rises. “Come with me to the bathroom.”
“Can I…” I mutter. “Can I come? I kind of want to watch.” 
“Uh no. No you don’t. We’ll be… cleaning up. Not necessarily pretty.” She reaches down and runs a finger up the underside of my erection, smiling. “Don’t let this go limp.” 
Dumbfounded, I sit back as the two of them leave the room.
				
●

I try to listen to what they’re doing, but they are quite circumspect. I assume they are doing what is known as an “enema”. Not that I know a lot about what that entails. Then I suppose mother is coaching my sister in what to expect from foreign objects trying to pass her sphincters.
At one point, I hear my mother say “No! Relax!” shortly after which my sister squeals. Silence falls and I try imagining just what my mother is doing to her. Did she bust out a box of buttplugs that she’s working through from smallest to… less small?
I sit still, trying to empty my mind, but my erection keeps claiming my attention. I’m considering taking a warning shot, just so I’ll be lasting more than two minutes. They are going through all this trouble, after all. But then I reconsider. If they’ll be doing what I asked, I want my orgasm to have… an impressive volume.
Finally, after staring into the wall for what feels like forever, my sister peeks in through the door. “Bedroom. Thirty seconds.”
As she disappears, I slowly get up and follow her. I take a few deep breaths through the hallways, as to give them the moments she asked for. I hesitate only briefly before opening the door leading to my parents’ bedroom, the one with the bed with a size suitable for all of this. The one where I caught my sister and my father.
I enter and my sister’s rear catches my eyes. She’s on her chest among the sheets, resting on her knees. Her tail is curled against my mother’s giggling face. Mother’s hands are on my sister’s ass, spreading it. She nods for me to approach. I do, hardly focused on anything but the pink of my sister’s asshole. I can tell they’ve been warming up; she’s gaping ever so slightly.
As I move onto the bed, my mother takes a bottle of what has to be lube. “Come on,” she says as she pulls my sister’s tail back and pours its content beneath it. My sister gasps lightly and a shiver ripples through her fur. Mother let’s one of her slender fingers slip inside. My sister yelps faintly.
“I see why you want this,” mother says. “It’s tight like a…” She smirks. “Well… like an eleven year old’s ass.”
I have no words. I just poise myself against the white wonderland of my sister. She hums a focused, muted note as she pushes against me, my erection grazing the base of her tail. Her tail’s tip brushes over my chin, then my nose, and I have to giggle. I feel my mother’s hand on my stomach, then she slides down and wraps her fingers around my shaft.
I close my eyes by reflex, but force myself to look as she guides my tip to my sister’s asshole. I feel her swallow me up in one smooth motion. The cold lube has me shivering along with her. Her ears flick into an alert position as she yelps in surprise.
“Relax,” mother says gently at her.
I am frozen, balls deep. I am afraid moving will hurt her.
“Come the fuck on,” mother says, suddenly without her usual patience. “Fuck her.” She puts a hand on my back and pushes. My mind contracts in pleasure as my sister’s squeals.
“Fucking fuck me,” I hear my sister hiss through her teeth, and I finally comply. I start thrusting at a careful pace. I place my hands on her hips, steadying myself. My groin is burning and I tighten my muscles, trying to keep my very body in check.
“Tell her she’s a slut,” mother whispers firmly, caressing my ear with her nose.
“God,” I stutter. “You’re such a slut.”
My sister nods as she sways beneath me. “M-hmm.”
“Say it,” I insist, every shade of hesitance gone. “Say what you are.”
“I’m such a slut,” she says, raising her voice. 
“She isss,” mother purrs fiercely. She reaches down and starts touching herself.
As I toss myself against my sister, leaning over her, I run my hands up the fur on her stomach. I slip beneath her red underwear and find her nipple. I can’t help but close my eyes and melt against her. “Want to be able to walk tomorrow?” I ask her.
“Noo,” she moans. “Ruin me.”
I flinch, as I suddenly feel an odd sensation against my balls. I slow down and realize that it’s my mother’s tongue. She’s knelt down behind me and is proceeding to smother my testicles with her lips. I groan and straighten my back. I reach back and grab her head, pushing it against me. I realize that I’ve just buried her nose in my asshole, but the muffled moans she lets out hardly convey displeasure. I don’t exactly like the thought itself, but I like that she doesn’t seem to care.
“God, mom.”
She briefly retracts. “Call me mommy.”
“Mommy…”
As her tongue slips into my ass, I wonder if it was intentional that she didn’t have me clean up as well, but then I wonder nothing. “Shit,” I mutter, trembling.
She dives in deep, seeming to know exactly what buttons to push. She keeps on until she’s out of breath and then pulls back, gasping. “Go ahead, let it out.”
I almost lose my balance, forcing myself against my sister.
“Ye- yeah,” my sister stutters. “Come on. Give me that cum.” She squeezes tight around me and soon, I’m emptying the balls that my mother is servicing. In slow, forceful contractions, I feel my cum crash against my sister’s insides and flood between us. I feel as if I should have been empty several times throughout, and finally I am left lax and satisfied, still hard inside her ass. Carefully, I pull out.
My sore sister diligently keeps her ass raised.
Mother pulls up beside me, wipes her lips and enjoys the sight; by her expression, maybe more than me.
My sister sways lightly from side to side, batting her tail, perhaps feeling at the weight shifting inside her. She reaches back and tentatively runs a finger beneath her tail, smearing the cum against her fur. 
“Holy fuck,” she whispers as she spills onto the bedsheets.
You would think that being spent, the pleasure I feel would soon fade. But looking at the red colors she wears, I still want to smear every inch of her in cum. And when I look expectantly to my mother’s blue for contrast, I don’t feel disgust at what I know she’s about to do.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
She crawls up beside my sister and runs her hand down her back, eliciting a faint purr. “Clench up,” she says. “Then get over me.” And with that, mother gets on her back and gives me a confiding smile.
My sister tries to move, legs trembling. I move in and grab her shoulders to stabilize her. As we position her above mother, I briefly touch my nose to her as a reward for doing well. She giggles and seems to loosen up ever so slightly.
“God, fuck–” mother coughs. “Warn me first, will you?”
“Whoops,” my sister yelps suddenly, putting a hand to her mouth in embarrassment.
I look down and find mother blinking, trying to wipe cum out of her eye.
“Damn, are you alright?” I ask.
“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this. I’m fine.” She blinks and finally seems to be able to see normally. She licks cum off her thumb, and my limping erection is already on its way back up. “Now I’m ready. Sweetheart, you know what do.” She opens wide and sticks her tongue out, resting beneath the asshole my sister seems to be struggling not to spill from.
“I– I’m nervous,” she mutters.
Mother gives me a look and nods with encouragement. She doesn’t seem to want to close her mouth.
“Easy,” I say, running my hand down my sister’s side. I lean in and put my lips to hers. I rest my hand against her cheek. She hums happily and slips her tongue into my mouth. She pulls back and nods at me.
Feeling her body relax, I slide down her and graze her pussy with my nose. Here I have the best view. 
“Alright,” my sister says, still somewhat tense. “Ready?”
“Uh-huh,” mother mutters, nodding.
And my sister relaxes her muscles and lets my cum out. I brush mother’s hair away from her face and caress her as she puts her tongue forth and catches the white flowing from my sister’s ass. She sings in muted laughter as it slides down her mouth.
“Don’t swallow,” I say carefully.
She mumbles something that I barely make out as “I’m not an idiot.”
As the cum stops its immediate flow, mother puts her tongue straight to the tap. She pats my sister on the ass with an encouraging sound escaping from her throat. My sister hesitates, but then pushes, her asshole dilating. Disregarding the unflattering noise, mother lets her tongue dig in and scoops out cum so deeply that I have to wonder numbly how far I could push her before she would no longer be able to stomach it. It’s collecting, spilling over the side of her mouth and it’s absolutely beautiful.
She even seems to look disappointed when her tongue finds no more cum and she settles for licking the rim.
 “Am I clean?” my sister asks.
“Mh-hhmm,” mother nods as she closes her mouth and slowly pulls out from underneath her.
“God, my legs hurt,” my sister whispers coarsely in my ear as she takes a more comfortable position beside me.
Mother places herself on her knees in front of us. She proudly opens her mouth with an “aaaahhhh”, and shows us just how beautiful we’ve made her. Just how much of a slut she is. A perfect mouthful of cum resting on her tongue. She wipes the corner of her mouth with a finger and cleans it with her lips.
“Nice,” my sister says. ”Now what?”
“Noooow,” I say, feeling increasingly bold. “You share.”
She chuckles. “Ew. Wasn’t she just up your butt? And you didn’t get cleaned up, did you?”
I try to look stoic, but I fear my disappointment shows.
“We’ll do it like this. If you kiss her, I kiss her.”
“Oh,” I say, reclaiming my excitement. I have tasted my own cum. No big deal. The fact that her tongue was up my ass is a minor detail. “Deal.” I look at my mother, who is giggling ruefully. “Save most for her.”
I crawl up close and put my arms around her. Of course, being aroused helps a great deal, so I slip my fingers beneath her bra and grab one of her breasts. We smile against each other before our lips touch. The smell reaches my nose and I brace myself before she opens her mouth and pushes the tip of her tongue past mine. I feel the thickness and taste the salt. It’s bitter. But I let myself forget it; I focus on the fact that I am sharing with my mother, that we’re probably closer in this than we’ve ever been before.
I pull back and turn to my sister. I show her the contents of my mouth. “Good enough?” I ask. Then I swallow.
My sister ruffles my hair with a patronizing look. “Good little slut.”
I’m about to express vivid discomfort at her words, but I forget myself once more as she crawls up against mother as I just did. I sit back and start stroking my diligent erection.
My sister gasps as mother pushes their faces against each other. Mother reaches down and grasps my sister’s rear before they open their mouths. My sister’s tongue starts to work for its share with a suddenly fierce hunger. However hard they try, they can’t contain it anymore. They spill and the concoction of saliva and cum stains their fur and their underwear.
  The moment the cum in their mouths has disappeared down their throats and down their bodies, mother starts licking my sister’s fur. At the sound of ecstatic purrs, my sister joins in, and they take turns running their tongues over each other’s bodies.
Soon enough, the act turns into play, and they start tickling each other. Through hearty laughs, they wrestle. “How’s that?” my sister smiles, looking at me.
“Very…” I gasp, not able to let go of my dick. “Very good. You are good girls.”
“Thank you,” mother says, letting go of my sister and placing herself sideways, resting lazily on her elbow. She and my sister smile at me still pleasuring myself. “So,” she asks. “Are you two tired? Need a break?”
“No,” my sister says promptly. “I want more.”
“Suddenly so eager,” mother says with raised eyebrows. “Well. It’s my turn to get fucked in the ass.”
My sister’s eyes narrow. “You can’t expect me to wait for that.”
“Girls, girls,” I say with a haughty, overplayed laugh. “We can do an even split.” They look expectantly at me. “Mom. On your back.” She nods and does as told. “Now,” I say, looking at my sister. “Get on top of her. Put your pussy in her face.” She nods and swings her leg over mother. Mother is quick to catch on and buries her tongue in my sister. My sister’s mouth falls open and her eyes roll to the top of her head.
As I reach for the lube, mother stops me. “No. I’m a grown-up. None of that.”
My sister seems to be about to take offense, given that mother seemed to insist that lube was needed before. But as mother knows how to work her tongue, my sister suddenly doesn’t have breath to shape the words.
I shrug and push mother’s legs up. I grab a pillow and put it underneath her, raising her asshole to a more suitable height. Then I take my dick, rock hard at the sounds my sister is letting out, and shove it up my mother’s ass. It feels less natural without lube, but I succeed well enough. Mother moans loudly once, then returns her attention to my sister.
Gripped once more by primordial urges, I start humping, my sister lazily seeming to register the motion through mother’s body.
I’m seized by an almost sinister smile. She’s too far gone, I could probably do almost anything to her. I pull out of my mother and present my dick to her. Through the haze, she seems to try to take on a chiding look, but then she slowly reaches out and grabs it. She puts it in her mouth and doesn’t seem to register a taste she doesn’t like. I feel her giving in when I put all my weight behind it and go balls deep. I thrust against her at her faint whimpers coupled with a resigned purring.
And with a sudden embarrassment of riches, I pull out again, delving into my mother’s asshole once more.
I keep going, periodically switching to my sister’s mouth. We’re training her well, my mother and I. Soon none of us will have any limits.
We’re all too caught up to realize that the door has opened. That somebody has entered the room. It dawns on all of us simultaneously and we freeze.
My father is looking at me with, lying on his bed, with my dick balls deep in his wife’s ass. His wife’s tongue is buried in his daughter. I’m seized by a fierce tension. He’s holding a gun.
He seems to rein a plethora of emotions as he looks over the scene. Then he merely settles for a sly smile and points the gun at us. “Basement. Now.”
				
●

The melodramatic cunt has procured chains. Like some goddamn nineties’ Saturday morning cartoon, the asshole has tied my ankle to the rusting pipes in the corner of the laundry room. I’m still naked and I’m freezing like some hobo rotting in the street. My bones are aching against the concrete floor. 
The last I saw of the girls, he was tying them up. They were half-heartedly laughing, seeming to think he was joking. I knew he wasn’t.
I still hear them in the room immediately beside this on, one where we keep spare mattresses. It’s like he had this planned out to the very last detail; as if his life has revolved around a vengeance against my very existence.
I’m trying to close my ears, but I can’t keep out the repeated thumping. It’s my mother being thrown against the wall. I’m afraid she’s gasping like that exactly because she knows I can hear it this well. She might sober up when he’s done, but for now she’s enjoying it.
He has been switching between the two of them periodically. My sister must be torn up to the point of not being able to walk properly the next couple of days. It isn’t as clear whether she is liking it as much as mother. The only time she explicitly expressed discomfort was when he stuck it up her ass. She called out for mother to stop him. But she didn’t interfere. I’m assuming she sat masturbating in the corner, fascinated at how depraved the scenario unfolding before her was. 
Finally, he seems to be finished. The noise dies down. It must have been two hours. I hear him lock the door and I assume the girls are now just as trapped as I am.
I don’t want to imagine the scene he leaves behind. The first time I found him with my sister, there was no room in me for jealousy, just arousal. Now every poisonous facet of humiliation seems to gnaw at my skin. He might as well have pissed me in the face. But however much I want to, I can’t keep my erection down.
As my father enters, I want to turn my back, but I reconsider. I hide my erection behind my legs, though I don’t think I’m fast enough.
He lops a couch cushion at me and when the zipper hits me in the eye, I’m sure it’s on purpose. 
“Liked the show?” He stands naked, with his arms in his sides, as if he’s really fucking proud of himself.
I look limply at the cushion, frustrated at the fact that I know I’ll eventually concede and sit on it. “You’re not done? Didn’t get all the asshole out of your system?” I look up and meet the lightning in his eyes.
“Not in the least. You deserve a lifetime down here.”
“Wow,” I say, mustering what I can of sarcasm, but I feel like the words fall pathetically to the ground. “There goes any hope of me seeing you as an actual father.”
He paces slowly but certainly and kneels before me. He grabs my hair and his palm rushes over my cheek with a cold sound. “You’re going to shut your mouth, you god damn motherfucker.” His fingers clench and my scalp burns against him. “You’re going to lose that foul attitude and you’re going to accept that you’re a little pathetic piece of shit. You’ve always been that and forever will be the fucking worst thing that ever happened to my life.”
I bite down, feeling my eyes turn wet. I wish I could say that his words didn’t hurt me. “What the fuck do you mean? What did I do so wrong?” I have no idea if he’s being honest or if he’s just spiteful. “I get better grades than my sister.”
The way he’s lurching over me makes it hard to ignore his dick, still glistening from recent use. Like he knows just how much I hate the size of it. I toy with the thought of finding something sharp and just… launching.
“Your sister knows how to pay me respect.”
My mouth hangs open in helpless frustration. “What the shit? You’re fucking up my life because I didn’t suck your cock?” I try my all to get myself to punch him as I’ve imagined over and over again. But my arm remains motionless.
He slaps me again and the world falls out of focus. As I try to regain perfect consciousness, I suppose he’s trying to find a clever rebuttal, but finally he simply rises and turns his back. His tail gives a haughty flick.
I wipe blood from the corner of my mouth. “People will notice we’re missing. What the ever-loving fuck is your plan? Are you going to keep us here until we rot away?”
“No.” As he walks out the door, he mutters something beneath his breath that I only barely catch. “Just until I do.”
				
●

If he has a plan, he’s sticking to it. He moves the girls from the room next to mine, so I can’t talk to them through the wall. Suddenly my life is empty. Being without entertainment is in itself soul draining, but without my mother and my sister, I feel as if I could just wither where I sit. Even if I’m served the leftovers of what my father calls food, the bottomless sensation of hunger doesn’t fade. I’ve tried to tear out the pipes that my chains are attached to and I’ve ruined my ankle while at it. I am too weak, and it makes me furious.
My bathroom is a bucket that I have to empty myself. And I can’t leave the room; I’m comically chained after all. There’s a sink in here. Go figure.
The only highlight of my day, which is more of a low, to be fair, is when he brings down the girls again and fucks them so thoroughly that I’d probably have been able to hear them anywhere else in the house. They don’t try to talk to me through the wall at any point. Either they’ve mustered the same honest fear that I hold for him, or they’re just drugged up on arousal. I don’t know if they know how he’s treating me. I don’t know if they live chained up like me.
My heart is burning. I miss them. As the day goes by, I find myself more and more willing to beg to see them again when he briefly comes in.
Finally, I utter the words. “Can I see them? Please?”
He doesn’t answer, he just shows his wicked, ugly teeth.
I’ve been there a week, when I assume he decides that my torture needs a brand new nuance of humiliation. I feel like skin and bones. I barely register when he unlocks me, pulls me up by my neck and drags me to the next room. Landing on my knees on one of the cum-stained mattresses littered over the floor, my eyes meet my sister’s. Her eyes are dark with smeared make-up, her hair is ruffled from lack of care. Still, I blissfully conclude that she is better off than me.
The tremendous warmth I feel at seeing her wanes quickly when I realize how she must see me. My eyes sunken, my fur dim and my tail tucked between my legs. My dick hanging limply. My father must seem larger in every fathomable way.
Yet she smiles. However faint, it’s still a smile. “Hi,” she says.
“Shut up,” my father says, grabbing her by one of her pigtails. She whimpers but doesn’t pull away. He lets his erect dick fall onto her nose, and I can almost see her faltering beneath its weight. “Get to work.”
She looks up as if considering it, but then envelopes him with her lips. He doesn’t need to coerce her for her to give her all, closing her eyes, pushing against him. She barely comes halfway down his shaft.
As she goes, she lids her eyes and meets mine. I can’t decide if I’m seeing a sliver of shame, or if she’s just winded.
“Do you enjoy this?” I can’t stop the words from leaving my mouth, even if I barely have the energy. “Do you enjoy that I hate it?”
She widens her eyes at my words.
My father pulls out and turns her towards me. “Say what you are.”
“I’m his fuck toy. I love being his fuck toy.” There is a blankness about her. I can’t tell if she has her heart in it. I wish I could focus.
As my father shoves his cock down her throat again, I see my mother approaching him from behind. I didn’t notice her before. She puts her muzzle over his shoulder and bites his neck with a fading purr. As she runs her hands down his stomach, I try to catch eye contact. It’s like she doesn’t even know I’m here.
After caressing my sister’s hair, she dives down and shoves her face beneath his ass. The sound of her tongue against his balls follows.
I look down and find my dick erect. Though I feel like I am betraying everything inside myself, I see my hands reach down to touch it. 
Suddenly I feel a searing pain as my father’s palm flies across my cheek. “No.” He pulls away from my sister again. “Tell him not to touch his pathetic dick.”
With a lazy breath, she closes her eyes. “Do as he says.”
I grit my teeth. I feel the urge to spite him. I feel the urge to do as she says, even if she’s hardly earnest. In the end, the passive course of action seems to be the easiest. I sit back, mute and sullen.
He turns her around and she raises her rear under his hands. Her tail. She poises it, as if to show excitement. But I know her. She’s lackluster.
He places his cock against her asshole. I flinch as I note the lack of lube; the size difference between him and her. But he must have been working her rigorously. As he slides inside, she yelps half as hard as I expected. I can’t believe he has any room to move. She’s dilated to the point where I can only find it ridiculous. 
He thrusts and she yelps. I find a vanishing comfort in the fact that she seems as pathetic as me. 
As he indulges himself, my mother runs her tongue between his ass cheeks. She flashes me a look, and for a moment, I can tell she’s sorry. But then the vivid enthrallment of the wrong she’s doing seems to recapture her, and she forgets I exist.
He pulls my sister’s tail and her body twitches. Her legs shiver beneath her and I’m sure his grip is what keeps her from dropping.
I can’t look away. I don’t even know if I want to. The sexual arousal has me on the verge of orgasm even without touch. At the same time, I can feel my soul draining away.
I don’t know how long they’ve been going when he stops pounding, rests his hips against her and groans like he’s some fucking porn star. He stays against her and they quiver in tandem. I can imagine the gallons he’s leaving inside her. Mother pulls up against him, her chest against his back and caresses him. As if he’s done a good job.
He pulls out with satisfied gasps from all three of them. She spills. His grip around her tail remains tight. He turns her as if to show me. She’s open like a well, contracting anxiously. His cum is everywhere.
My heart twists violently as he grabs me by my hair and I realize what he’s doing. He pulls me towards her. By instinct, my every muscle resists.
“You god damn little hypocrite. You made the girls do this. You don’t have the balls, or something?” He doesn’t push me further, though I know he easily could. Despicable. He wants me to do it on my own accord.
I know I’ll end up caving. Mostly because I can already feel his grip tighten. He’ll claw me open when he loses his patience.
Whatever. If this is the closest I’ll get to my sister. I close my eyes. As I move closer, the smell intensifies. I can still see the mounds of cum before me. I hesitate more than once, but finally I feel my tongue reach the thin fur below her asshole and my nose touch her tail. It’s wet with the salty taste of my father’s fluids. 
My mother lets go a muted whisper. “Yesss.”
I try to forget every sensation in my body and go somewhere else as my tongue slips inside her and scoops up cum. As her sphincter reflexively tightens around my tongue, I imagine green grass and sunshine. As my father grunts something humiliating, probably with an obnoxious grin, I dream of laughter in our backyard. As I clean up my sister with a diligence I might regret, as I swallow every drop, I think of the days when drinking cum was just something I made my mother and sister do with no one but me knowing about it.
The taste isn’t so bad. If my mother can do it, I suppose I can too. 
Mom. What happened to you?
I try to lead my trail of thought back to reality. I’m long done. I feel like I could vomit. Less for the taste, more for the fact that I would relish aiming it at my father.
He’s in front of me and my sister, fucking my mother. It doesn’t feel as bad as I’m sure he’d hoped. Sure, I miss my mother, I miss being the one to bury his face between her breasts, but this doesn’t feel like my mother. This is some demon my father conjured in her body. She’s hissing appreciations of how large he is. Of how evil he is.
My sister’s arms are around me. She seems hesitant, as father will probably get aggressive the moment he looks over his shoulder and sees us this close. Probably, she’s holding me back, in case my feelings get the better of me and I decide to do something stupid.
She digs at my cheek with her nose and I cave once more. I turn to her and as our lips meet, I hope she’ll look past the taste on my tongue and go to places of green with me. Despite what she’s been doing, she tastes clean. For a moment, the heat I feel overshadows everything else.
I pull away, because I want to look into her eyes. She blinks. They’re wide and somehow still innocent. I’m starved and dehydrated and here is my oasis. Dare we speak? What would I say anyway? We should pack our shit and run far away? Would she want to?
She nods faintly towards our parents and at the heavy grunts, I realize he’s finished. Slowly, we let go of each other. I feel my heart break all over as my father grabs me by the neck and pulls us apart. He sets me down between my mother’s spread legs. 
I look up and she takes on an expression somewhere between motherly pity and childish encouragement. She nods down her body, calling attention to the cum leaking out the pussy she is spreading and the thick streaks coating her stomach. Its staining the base of her tail, waving in an inviting motion. I’m on all fours, my head above her. Frozen.
“Be a good boy now,” she says. Looking at her, I suddenly see my mother.
And once more, I quickly realize that I might as well get it over with. I descend, tongue first and I let my mother’s moans be testimony to the fact that I’m doing well. I drink it, and if I really put my mind to going elsewhere, it tastes like nothing.
When I’m done, my mother runs her hand through my hair in appreciation. As my father picks me up again, I catch another sorry look from her. Before I know it, I leave the room and once more I’m all alone, chained in my room.
If nothing else, at least I got more sustenance today than I otherwise would.
Before I fall asleep, I set to editing my memories the best I can. I want to cherish the heat. The feeling of being close to my mother and my sister. I do my best to remove the taste of my father. But no matter how hard I try, it keeps sneaking up my throat. I want to go vomit. But I feel weak already and I know it would only make me weaker.
				
●

This or some shade of it happens every time my pride shrinks enough for me to beg. I’ve learned to pretend it’s just words. I can make it sound convincing without having my heart in it.
Of course, eventually he needs more. I can’t say I don’t know the feeling.
To my luck, it means I get to see the living room for the first time in what feels like years.
“We’re going to make you look pretty,” he says, to my immense confusion.
He’s dragged the big mirror in here for some reason. I see myself and the body I drag around as if for the first time. I’ve lost a lot of weight. My hair has grown a sight too long for my taste. My ribs show and my arms and legs are thin. My figure is embarrassingly feminine. Which… come to think of it, was probably also his train of thought.
“You’ve seen the girls do their jobs. Now it’s your turn.” 
I sigh. I thought it might come to this. 
“Dress up,” he says, pointing to a cardboard box beside me. It holds various pieces of women’s clothing. “Do me proud and I’ll let you have half an hour with your sister.”
I look at him, barely stopping myself from showing a sliver of excitement. “Alone?”
“Sure, whatever. Depends if you can impress me.”
“Impress you…” I repeat numbly.
“You know what I like.”
“Boys, apparently.”
“No sass,” he says. He’s frighteningly calm. The anger I expected doesn’t surface. “You’re a girl today.”
I look at the box. I consider how little energy I have. How I’m almost falling asleep where I stand. “I need food. Sugar.”
He nods and goes to the kitchen while I dive into the box. Panties, stockings and gloves in different colors and sizes. How stupidly predictable. He returns and hands me two large Snickers bars. I eat them while browsing. The taste of chocolate is pure ecstasy.
I settle for a white set, which at least would be something I would like. I feel my father’s eyes over me while I put it on. I’m unnerved, sure, but for once having something to look forward to makes it easy to ignore. Luckily, it’s not a bad fit, even if the panties feel a little too tight on my balls. I guess my dick isn’t that small. 
I look myself over in the mirror. I look like a right faggot. I place a hand on my hip and poise it so my waist arcs gracefully into my still thick tail. I suppose I could pass for a girl. If you squinted. And if you ignored the dick.
I turn towards him. He’s sitting lazily in the couch, arms on the backrest, pants around his legs. His raging erection in his hand. I sullenly realize the actual size of his dick all over, now that I’m the one supposed to handle it. I close my eyes and I take several deep breaths. A lax posture won’t do. I straight my back and raise my tail. The getup suddenly feels tight in all the wrong ways. Whatever. I can do this. I can pretend this gets me off.
I kneel before him. I try my best to keep from wincing; I can practically taste him already. I close my eyes. Fighting my anxiousness, I open my mouth and run my tongue against his balls. I taste sweat and shame.
I feel my father’s hand through my hair and he snaps my head back. “Look at me.”
I hiss through my teeth but comply. It’s suddenly a lot harder to imagine he’s not there. I arc my eyebrows in what I hope is a sufficiently humble expression, as I place my hands around his shaft and feel the tidal waves of blood flowing. I begin stroking as I put my lips to his tip. I open my mouth as wide as I can and push forward. He soon hits my throat and in concert with the taste of salt, nausea suddenly wells up in me.
“Concentrate,” he says, as if sensing my reflex to retract. “It’s not that difficult.”
I barely have time to think Have you ever sucked a dick, asshole? when he places his hand in the back of my head and steadily starts pushing. My hands stop working as I feel my throat stretching and clenching simultaneously. My eyes water. I can’t breathe. For a moment he’s locked inside me. I’m afraid his groaning is testimony to the fact that he won’t let go before I’ve suffocated. Finally, he removes his hand and I fall back, gasping for air.
I take a moment to collect myself; I know I have to keep going. I look at him with my humble eyes and start stroking and licking.
“By god, you suck at this.”
I what? It’s my first fucking time.
“Faster.”
I collect some spit and let it spill over him, before gaping over him once more and picking up the pace with my hands. Apparently, even a poor performance is still well enough, because it doesn’t take long before he’s so close that he pushes me back and takes over. He holds my head in place as he strokes, aiming at me. I brace myself, closing my eyes.
“Open wide.”
I obey. Before I feel ready, I feel cum coating my tongue, one streak after another. It falls over my eyelids and my nose. I only barely wince. As he’s finished, I sit back, feeling like a tiny, worthless whore. I’m filled with anger in a thousand glorious facets, as I feel it soaking my fur, but I can’t. I know I can’t. 
“Thank you,” I manage to mutter. I know where to collect the cheap points. I also know I have to swallow. This, I’m already used to. It enters my stomach, and I open my mouth to show him that I did it all on my own accord. I hope it’s better than if I’d waited for permission.
He nods, seemingly reluctant to give me praise.
I want to ask if I’m free to go clean up, but I stop myself. That wouldn’t be impressive, would it? “What do you want to do to me?” I ask. Then after almost biting my tongue off: “Daddy.”
“Get me hard again.”
I sigh internally. The ball is still in my court? Luckily, his dick is only barely limping. I crawl onto his lap, turning around. I arc my back and curl my tail. I hope my rear is a beautiful as my sister’s, when she does the same. I place it against him and move slowly from bottom to top.
He hums, I assume, in involuntary approval. I feel him get harder against me. Now that I have my back turned, it’s suddenly easier to imagine something other than his face. I feel strange. I feel female. The angry part of me roars at the sensation. That the cum on my face feels… natural. I quickly convince myself that what’s about to come will be easier if I embrace the feeling. I can beat myself up afterwards.
His hand caresses my ass. He pulls the panties aside and my body tightens up as his thumb presses against my asshole.
“Please use lube,” I say through my teeth.
“Relax pussy.” He has a bottle close at hand. He lifts my tail and pours, sending shivers through my bones. 
I try to remember what little I’ve read on doing anal. Deep breaths. Relax. As his thumb enters me, already thicker than what I’ve tried before, I realize how much of a challenge relaxing will be. I have to gasp and he groans along with me. 
Almost carefully, he loosens me up. Soon, he switches to two fingers. I bite down, painfully clenching my jaw. He switches to three. I dig my claws into my palms. He delves in and as he pushes, I feel as if I’ll fall apart.
Finally, he seems satisfied and pulls out his fingers. He puts his hands on my rear and gives me an encouraging tap. Again. My own accord. I swallow and let the taste of cum distract me from what I know I’m about to feel. I sit back, poising myself against his tip. He keeps it steady as I put in my weight. He is thicker than three fingers, to put it mildly. I hold my breath and feel that my teeth could break against each other. I slowly gain one or two inches on him. My body screams at me as my sphincters stretch.
“You good?” he asks in a patronizing tone.
“No,” I say as calm as possible, though my eyes are watering. I don’t want to cry. 
“Keep going.”
“I can’t.”
“Bullshit.” He finally loses his patience. He picks me up as if I weigh nothing, still inside me, and sets me on the couch. On my knees, I tremble in his grip. He’s too hard. I can’t, I just can’t. I have to tell him to stop.
My world freezes in a searing flash of red pain as he pushes against me. He goes deep, deeper than I’d thought possible. I roar in powerless fury.
He retracts and the pain wells up again. And again. Again.
All the while I scream, every sense in my body burning.
“Cry, faggot!”
And it happens. I hate it, I hate it so fucking much. I can’t remember when I cried last. The tears roll and I can’t stop them. My lungs heave endlessly deep breaths of anxiety. Fuck him, fuck my life, fuck everything. Just fucking kill me. The piece of shit enjoys seeing me like this. I hate myself for letting myself end up here. For giving him any ounce of pleasure. 
The rocking world around me blurs into a distorted mess. The pain is a singing knife’s edge. It’s faded enough for me to feel the vague sensation of treacherous excitement. That fucking feeling of being a girl.
I hate that I’m about cum, in spite of the storm inside me. In spite of the glass shards of pain rolling through my body, my erection is still throbbing, as if it too enjoys seeing me broken. 
I can’t stop it. The orgasm washes through me and I shoot my load over the couch cushions. It numbs the pain and allows me to catch my breath.
Finally, he sinks in and rests against me, convulsing. I don’t feel the cum, only the pulsing flow of blood and the lingering pain. Only when he pulls out, finally allowing me rest, I feel it drip, running down my legs.
I fall down. I push my wet eyes into the couch. I probably failed to impress him. He probably won’t let me see my sister. That will be the straw that breaks me. I try to think of how I could kill myself once I’m let back into the laundry room. Probably, I’d fashion a noose out of the chain.
“Come on up,” he says flatly.
I stay perfectly still. He grabs me and pulls me to an upright position. I sit, scowling in a pool of his and my own cum.
“Did you want to go see your fucking sister, or what?”
I stare in disbelief for a few moment before mustering the will to speak. “Really?”
“Get up.”
I try to get on my feet, but I can’t keep my balance. He has to support me. Stumbling along, I feel the panties getting soaked in the cum, still leaking out of me. I’d be embarrassed about the noise, but my mind is a barren wasteland. He leads me out the door and through the halls. All I can concentrate on is containing my sobs.
I’m led to the office and I’m shoved inside. I fall on all fours as the door closes behind me. My sister leaps from the bed and rushes to my embrace. “Fucking finally,” she exclaims. She’s wearing nothing but underwear, just like me. Our eyes meet. I blink and tears fall. She reaches out, finds the edge of a bed sheet and starts wiping my face. “At least he didn’t make you wear makeup.”
What a ridiculous thing to find comfort in. My comfort is in the fact that she doesn’t look at me like I’m pathetic. She can act a mother for me. God, yes.
By reflex, I listen to my father’s footsteps disappear in the halls. I had feared he would listen in.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“I quite literally want to die.”
She arcs her eyebrows in a melancholic look. “Oh, please don’t. I’ve missed you.” 
We look silently at each other for a moment.
“Come.” She pulls me into the bed. 
“So, are you convinced that he’s an asshole yet?” I ask, as I try to find a sitting position that doesn’t hurt my aching rear.
Her look turns into something between apology and pity and I feel a sting. “Listen, I never doubted that he was an asshole… It’s…” She searches for words, but reconsiders. “Never mind. Don’t you want to get out of those clothes?”
I shrug, but then nod. I pull off the stockings and the gloves. I leave the panties on, preferring to keep the cum from spilling everywhere. “So,” I say. “We have half an hour.”
“Do you want to…” She nods down. “You haven’t had release in… forever.”
I close my eyes, dejectedly shaking my head. “Don’t sweat it. He didn’t cut off my hands, did he? Besides.” I gesture indefinitely. “The asshole actually managed to…”
She looks between my legs. “One orgasm isn’t usually enough to set you out.”
“Please. If I only have half an hour with you, I don’t want it to be about sex.”
“Sure. Fine.” There’s a hint of disappointment in her voice, but I stand by my words.
“How does he treat you?” I ask.
She looks into her palm. “We can’t leave the house. We can’t walk around without him watching. He fucks both of us three or four times a day.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s set up a Playstation in the bedroom where we stay otherwise. Mom loves playing Katamari Damacy. I get all the ice cream I want, though he says I’ll be tied up indefinitely if I get too fat.” She hesitates.
I sigh, at least happy that she’s better off than me. “Nobody’s come by, wondering why we’re missing from… everything?”
“I don’t know what he’s told everyone, but nobody has come by.”
“I see.” I feel my eyes water again, but this time I contain it. “And you’re… what… happy like this?”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “What? No. Of course not. We need to get him locked up. Somehow.”
I frown. “Really? You don’t seem to… bite at him when he has me… cleaning up after him.”
She looks down. “Neither do you.”
My teeth clench again. “You’re not just a little aroused by the fucking show he’s got going on?”
“Sure,” she says promptly. “At first it was goddamn ecstasy. I never had orgasms like that before. But I’m not an idiot. There are things more important than orgasms.”
I remain silent. Even if I know exactly what she means, even if I’ve done things I shouldn’t have in arousal, I can’t help but feel like some of the anger I hold is reserved for her.
“When we go to sleep at night. Mother and I… She keeps saying we have to save you. But we can’t figure out how.” She tightens her lips. “This is all we have.”  She reaches beneath the covers and pulls out a key. “The key to the basement. I can’t get the one to your chains. We’ll have to get creative about getting you out of those.”
I gape in disbelief. “How did you get that?”
“It hung in the hall. Sometimes he looks away.” She turns her eyes down. “I… hid them up my butt. Hurt like hell.”
“You didn’t. What if he had… gone there.”
She shrugs. “I just have to be… sufficiently enthusiastic about other things. He gets distracted.” She wavers her head. “I got lucky.”
I take them and clutch them in my hand with little regard for where they’ve been. “So what then? Basement keys are useless if I’m chained up.”
She hums indecisively. “I keep thinking that somehow getting you a hacksaw is the best bet.”
I shake my head. “Impossible.”
“Yeah.”
“Any other bright ideas?”
She hesitates, somehow nervous. “Yes.”
“Out with it.”
“It involves you… smuggling things in your own…”
“My own ass.” I have to roll my eyes. “Whatever. My ass could fit a baseball bat at the moment. Go on.”
“You’ve lost some weight. If you shaved your fur and used some sort of lubricant, do you think you could slip out of it?”
I’m reluctant to light up at the idea. I’m doubtful it would work. “I don’t know. But I guess I have to try.”
She gets up and picks up things she’s hidden elsewhere in the room. As she sits down, she presents a small rectangular glass container and a rolled up lump of tape. “I emptied a bottle of nail polish and filled it with lube. That has a razor inside it.”
I wince. Not exactly things I’d want inside me. After gathering myself for a moment, I nod. “Sure. Fine. What then? What do I do if I get outside?”
“Get the police. Social services. Somebody. We can easily convince them our mother had nothing to do with it. They’ll take care of it.”
“Right.” I nod slowly for a long time, thinking the details over. “You’re going to have to help me… Getting those inside me.”
“Sure, of course.”
I reach out and squeeze her hand. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for being patient with us. Sorry for everything he made us do to you.”
I hug her once more. “It’s alright.” I put in all the force left in my arms. As she hugs me back, I run my hands down her back. Without realizing it, I’ve reached her rear.
“Mmm,” she hums. “You’re sure you don’t just want, like, a handjob or something?”
Feeling her soft fur between my fingers, most of the shame has washed away. “Maybe,” I say. “Maybe just a handjob.”
She closes her eyes and bites her lower lip. “Could you… could you wear those again.”
I hesitate. “Why…?”
“Because I think you look pretty.”
I can’t say no to her. All the times she has done things for me. I let go of her and pick up the gloves and the stockings. She runs her hands over my stomach and my chest as I put them on.
I turn to her again and run my gloved hand over her cheek. “I’m pretty?”
“Yes,” she whispers as she slides her hand down my panties. “You’re the most beautiful thing I know.”
And she was right. It has been long since I’ve had real release. Her hand finds my dick and it’s hard almost immediately. She starts stroking, and I have to admit that I love the sensation of my tip against the underwear. She bites my neck, though carefully. Our tails entwine as she runs her nose up my cheek and digs into my ear. I feel chills over both our bodies. The green is there. The scent of lovely afternoons in the sun. I feel dread at the fact that I know it will stop. Too soon, I ejaculate into the panties. My sister licks her fingers clean, then leans down and puts her lips to where I’ve just soaked the fabric. She squeezes it between her teeth and gasps. “God, I’ve missed your taste.”
“Kiss me,” I say certainly.
“My my, gone all girl, have we?”
“Anything to get him out of my mouth.”
She nods and puts her nose to mine. She slips her tongue into my mouth. To be honest, the salty taste isn’t much different, but the thought still seems to console me. We’re about to lose ourselves again, but we stop almost simultaneously, probably for the same reason.
I grunt, my anger resurfacing. “We have to get it over with.”
She nods.
I get on all fours and raise my rear.
“Knees as close to your shoulders as possible,” she says.
I try to do as she says. Probably, I should have been lying on my back, but she’s already pulled down my panties.
“Myeah, we’re not going to need any lube here.”
I’m still drenched in cum, I know. She takes the bigger item first; the bottle. It hurts, but luckily, there is little to no resistance. She gets up, and wraps the key in tape as well. Before I know it, both it and the razor are also inside me. She pushes all three further in with two fingers before pulling up the panties once more.
“There.”
Slowly, I get up, hoping my baggage won’t simply slide out of me. I try stepping back and forth, feeling at the weight inside me. The edges of the bottle are uncomfortable, but I’m sure I’ll manage. “I think I’m good.”
Carefully, I sit back down, wanting to savor the time we have left.
We lose ourselves down each other’s throats, but far too soon, our father opens the door, stomps in and drags us apart.
				
●

Back in the laundry room, I wait until darkness falls and I feel certain that every soul in the house beside me has gone asleep.
Then I put my ass over the edge of the sink and start retrieving what’s hopefully the key to my escape. It hurts all over again, but by now, I’ve been through far worse. I use a lot of water and soap to clean up the bottle and myself, while I’m at it. I throw out the tape after unwrapping the key and the razor. The razor is sharp enough to cut off a tongue, I’m sure.
With water and soap at hand, I start shaving the area below the shackle around my right leg. I feel like I’m terrible at it. The fur around my ankle is quite thick and it’s slow work. My hands are trembling from exhaustion and I cut myself several time throughout. Finally, my ankle is perfectly clean and the pink skin beneath lights up morbidly.
Positioning myself on the floor, I open the small bottle of lube. I take about half of its content on a finger and spread it over my ankle in an even layer. The cuts sting, but I bite down as I’ve learned to. I place my fingers around the shackle and take a deep breath. I pull down. Like I thought, it stops, barely further than it usually goes. I push harder and the cuts burn at the force. It doesn’t help much. I might gain half an inch, but then I’d just suffocate my entire right paw.
I can’t just give up. I keep trying, but I feel far more pain than progress. After a few minutes, I fall onto my back.
I almost cry again. I think of when my father finds out I’ve tried to escape. I think of what punishments he’ll come up with for me and my sister. I won’t have it. I’d rather cut off my paw with the razor than sit through his stupid smirk again.
I look at the room around me. I look at the cupboards, the drain, the shelves, soap bottles, other useless laundry articles, pipes… The pipes! The pipes are ridiculously solid, I’ve learned that much. Beneath the water heater, there’s a section where they form a V-like structure. I can get my paw through and then lock the shackle behind the pipes.
I rub the rest of the lube over my ankle. Then I lodge the shackle and place my leg against the heater itself. After meditating for about half a minute, I push, with every ounce of strength I have. My eyes water, my everything aches and I wince at the creaking sound from the pipes; I’m afraid they might actually break before I’m loose. I’m afraid getting loose is impossible. As I cry out, it gives. It finally gives. The pain reaches a crescendo as it feels like my skin is about to be torn off. I roar. I slide back. One inch, then another. Suddenly, the shackle slips past the toes on my paw and I’m free. I’m fucking free.
I feel like shouting in victory, but I hold myself back, as I realize that my outburst before might already have raised suspicion. I’m suddenly a little lost. As I stand up, the pain in my ankle is almost sweet. I look around, instinctively considering what condition I should leave the room in. I look out the small windows at the top of the wall. It’s cold in here. It will be doubly so outside. I catch myself thinking that if my father had left the clothes from earlier, I would have been a sight better off. 
I pick up the basement key. The front- and backdoor on the ground floor can be unlocked without a key from the inside. Not the basement door, for some reason. It’s also coincidentally the only way out that doesn’t lead me directly through the living room.
On my toes, I go through the halls and with a patience I didn’t think I owned, I open the door. I go outside. Suddenly, I breathe the night’s air, free as I’ve never felt before. I’m naked and freezing, but I couldn’t care less.
As I go around the house, I’m stopped by light coming through the living room window. I put my back against the wall and sidle easily along it. I lean in to get the barest glimpse of the inside. I snap back. It’s the television still on. My father is sleeping in the armchair. Naked, just like me.
I look ahead, into the dark of the backyard. I let the light of the night sky above me wash over me.
I present myself a choice. I weigh what feels like my entire existence. One choice is easy, the other is risky.
It entirely depends on whether the backdoor leading into to the living room is locked or not. I duck, slip beneath the window and reach it. Carefully, I pull at the door handle.
It’s open.
				
●

I go to the shed. I find my father’s wood splitting axe. He’s once taught me how to use it, though I don’t think I ever did it well enough to satisfy him. Spread your legs, hold your right hand near the middle and your left hand by the end. Raise it behind your head. Swing and aim with your right hand, but let gravity do the work for you. Easy.
				
●

I approach the armchair. Every step is a challenge and I seem to move slower every second. The weight of the axe in my hands seems enormous and I fear I won’t even be able to raise it when I need to. My father’s body flickers, periodically lightning up in the television’s glare. I keep feeling like I see his eye’s lidding.
As I harness the anger, trying to let it drown out every facet of fear, I’m thinking that I want him to see it. I want him to look me into the eyes and realize just how bad he fucked up. I want him to regret everything, I want him to feel like the smallest being alive. Not least of all, I want him to feel pain. I want burning, torturous pain blazing through his body for the last moments of his existence.
I go through the motions I practiced outside. I raise the axe above my head. My muscles protest, but I keep steady.
Then, as the light flashes over his face, and I’m convinced that his eyes are wide open, my reflexes kick in and I let gravity take over.
				
●

I sit mutely for far too long, looking at the mess. His cracked open skull, the crimson trails of blood pooling around him. I have to move. Do something.
I put the axe in the kitchen sink, filling it with water and soap. 
All the keys were in his wallet, which was in his jacket in the hall. I go to the girls’ room and unlock the door.
“Mom,” I say faintly into the darkness. “I need your help.”
The shapes in the bed stir in confusion. “What?” my mother mumbles. “Sweetheart, what are you doing up this late?” The next moment she seems to remember exactly why I’m not supposed to be there. She leaps up and embraces me. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”
I try to find words, but I realize that any explanation would be too difficult. I drag her with me into the living room.
As we enter, she puts her hands to her mouth. “Dear God.” By the look on her face, a thousand thoughts seem to roll through her head. She puts her arm around my shoulder, somehow seeming unsure if I deserve comfort. She blinks, then heaves a few anxious breaths. “No, no, no...”
“I’m sorry,” I say. But I’m not.
She falls to her knees and throws her arms around me. Then she cries into my shoulder. “My boy,” she whispers. She crushes me against her, while I stare numbly at my father’s body. After a few minutes, she seems to get her breathing under control. “Get your sister,” she says. “We have to clean up.” 
				
●

Our sister cries all the same, though she doesn’t seem nearly as surprised as our mother. We clean up while mother takes care of the body.
She wraps it up and drives it deep into the woods. There she says she found a fire site, probably where the scouts would burn bonfires in the midsummer. She collected what wood she could find, poured gasoline and burned him. 
Luckily, the chair is in leather, making it easy to clean. We burn the rug beneath the chair in the fireplace. There were no markings on the floor beneath it. No one needs to know we ever had a rug there. I hang the axe exactly where I found it.
As the lazy sun rises, we sit down at the dinner table and through tears and sullen moods, we work out what to tell the rest of the world. We agree that it’s most believable that our father ran off to kill himself somewhere, stricken with shame of what he’d done to us. We are all innocent, of course. Our mother stresses that we have to pin it all on him. Otherwise, she doesn’t dare guess what would happen to us.
The girls woke up this morning and found their door unlocked. They found the keys on the kitchen table. They unlocked me. There was no trace of him.
We burn the clothes in which he would have had to disappear.
Before burning his wallet as well, I find something in a pocket I didn’t check before. It’s a note in dodgy handwriting:
I’m sorry for being weak. I should have been a better man.
I pass it to my mother. After staring blankly at it for half a minute, she nods solemnly and concludes that it’s a good idea to pretend that he left it on the kitchen table along with the keys.
Lastly, we make sure the shackle in the laundry room is unlocked. If it’s still locked when the police come, it will be clear that I escaped. If my father disappeared the same night, that would be cause for suspicion.
Before she sends us back to bed to catch up on the sleep we missed, she tries to pass on a lesson.
“Here’s how you lie. You convince yourself that the lie is the truth. Simple as that. You have to call up feelings you don’t have. You have to silence ones you do.”
We pretend we understand.
				
●

A graying wolf with drooping ears is the officer handling our case. Today he’s asking me questions privately. He’s trying to clear up some confusion regarding our father’s disappearance. 
I mingle my lies with honesty, the best I can. “All I recall is him mumbling ‘just until I rot away’ when I asked him how long he’d be keeping me there.”
He nods passively as he’s done a hundred times by now. “Your ankle. Why is it shaved?”
“I thought it would make it easier to slip out of the chains. It wasn’t good enough.”
“And if you had a razor… Did you ever think of fighting back?”
“Are you kidding? I never thought of hurting him.”
He understands. He asks several other seemingly trivial questions. Whether I tried to bang the windows. Whether I ever heard my mother and sister shouting.
“Where do you think he might have gone?” he asks, finally.
I hesitate. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.” I meet his eyes, idly wondering what amount of eye contact seems the most convincing. “What do you think? Where have people gone when you can’t find them?”
“Probably…” he says. “He threw himself off a bridge. Or he just went so far into the wilderness that we won’t find him before… wild animals have taken care of the remains.”
I nod as if I care. He has no more questions. He walks me through the halls. Before we reach the room where my mother and my sister is waiting for me, he pauses. “You refused the offered therapy program. May I ask why?”
This I can answer honestly. “I have my mother and my sister. If I decide I need more therapy than that, I’ll get back to them. Don’t worry.”
He nods once again. “You are all very… mature. You’re some of the strongest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.” He looks down, as if gathering himself. “Suppose… suppose he didn’t just disappear. Suppose that somebody killed him. For what he did. Between you and me; if I have any say in the matter, the investigation will end here. There’s no point in wasting time and energy on catching the culprit. We have enough to satisfy the bureaucrats. No one wants to say it, but a perverted psychopath like him. He doesn’t deserve to live.”
I’m lost for words for a moment, but then I give him a knowing sliver of a smile. “I tend to agree.”
We exchange looks more honest than we have so far and I wonder what he’s thinking. We give each other the hand and I go through the door.
				
●

I wake up to the tune of my mother and my sister licking my dick while humming “Happy Birthday”. I turn fourteen today and I have been beyond excited for it.
My sister crawls up beside me and as I suck on her tongue, my mother squeezes my dick between her breasts. I’ve had dreams of lathering them both in cum, so it doesn’t take long before I ejaculate over her. By request, she doesn’t clean up and walks around with my cum on show. It’s my birthday after all.
For breakfast, my mother serves hot chocolate and pancakes. I open my presents. I get Dark Souls 3 from my sister and a pocketknife from my mother. Additionally, my sister has made me coupons for five sexual favors. When my mother curiously asks what she doesn’t already readily do for me, we both have to laugh. That’ll have her wondering. 
Afterwards we live out something our mother has been begging for for at least a week. She puts collars and leashes on the both of us. When she starts dressing me up as girl, I’m afraid that I’ll have feelings of anxiety welling up, but… if anyone could make me want to be a little girl, it’s my mother. If anyone can make me obey an order, it’s her. Yes, if trauma feels like this, I don’t mind it.
She serves us milk in bowls on the floor and as we drink, she masturbates while running her hand through our hair and over our backs. I stretch beneath her fingers and purr as my tail slithers against her. She slips a condom on my dick, which – I’m proud to say – is big enough to fill one by now. 
My sister got her first period a few weeks ago. I protested when I felt how uncomfortable a condom is. But, of course, getting her pregnant wouldn’t exactly be… smart, we can agree on that much. And sadly, she isn’t old enough to be prescribed more sophisticated protection. 
I eagerly fuck my sister while mother pulls our leashes.
Finally, she drags me on top of herself. Completely mindless from arousal, I suck on her breasts while I ram my dick into her.
“That’s a good pet,” she gasps. “Get mommy pregnant.”
She’s been saying that a lot lately. I assume that’s just another fantasy, but I’m actually nervous that she might look at her birth control pills one morning and then just throw them out on impulse.
Regardless, the thought has me filling her up to the brim. I can’t help but relish the thought that she’ll walk around the rest of the day thinking of what I left inside her.
I’m left with perfect satisfaction radiating through my limbs. But I sense it could get better. Next time, I don’t think I’d mind her being… more rough.
Our mother has to go to work. She’ll be late, but I’m certain she’ll talk her way out of trouble. Luckily, the two of us don’t have school today. As we’re left alone, we find our way to the green gardens behind our house. We climb to the roof of our treehouse where the wind beneath the clear sky threatens to topple us over. As we sit down, shoulder to shoulder, our tails entwine.
“I’m cashing this in right now,” I say, waving one of her coupons at her.
“Really?” she says with a cocked eyebrow. “You came up with something sufficiently weird already?”
“I want you…” I say, pausing for dramatic effect. “To tell me you love me. And I want you to fold your hands before you, push your chest forward and blink your eyes at me while you do it.”
She makes wide eyes and laughs furiously at me. “That doesn’t count! That’s not a sexual favor.”
“Hey, what if it gets me ridiculously horny. You don’t know.” I push her playfully. “What are you, scared?”
“No,” she says proudly, straightening her back. “No, I’m definitely not scared.”
“Then come on.”
“Fine.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She folds her hands before her and lowers her ears humbly. Then she bats her eyelids at me. “I loooooooooove you.” As she drags out the word in a sarcastic tone, she crosses her eyes. 
I burst into laughing and half a minute later, when I finally contain myself, my sides hurt fiercely. “You’re perfect,” I say and lean in to bite at her ear.
She smiles but then her eyes veer off. “Can I say something?”
I’m struck by the weight in her words. “Of course you can.”
“You can’t get mad at me.”
“What could you say that could get me mad at you?”
She pauses, taking a few breaths. “You know, back when dad and I started having sex.”
I’m not sure I like the topic, but she clearly has something important to get off her chest. “Yes…?”
“It wasn’t all his fault. Or well…”
“Come on.”
“I approached him. I crawled onto his lap. I touched his dick, hoping he wouldn’t kick me off.”
I frown, not sure how to feel about that. I guess I already knew on some level. “Why did you feel the need to tell me this now?”
“Because you were so convinced that he was the bad guy. That he was using me. You keep thinking I’m perfect. But I’m not.”
I reach out and grab her chin, directing her eyes towards mine. “Yeah, you are. You are perfect.”
For a moment, her eyes are clear as glass. Vulnerable. Then her entire face smiles defiantly. “God. Shut up.”
I let go of her. I consider something. I might as well bare a question of my own. “Do you miss him?”
She frowns. “No. I have you.” Then she shakes her head. “That came out wrong. Sure, I miss the man he was when he was in a good mood. But I don’t see how we could have talked sense into him by the end.”
I bite my tongue. “Do you think I overreacted?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Probably not, no.”
Silence falls. For a minute, I feel nothing but the wind and her body heat against me.
Suddenly, she whispers. “So, do you want to fuck, or what?”
“But we didn’t bring a condom.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck the condom. Come.” She crawls over the edge and into the tree house itself, with an agility I sadly can’t imitate.
I smile. She’ll get splinters in her ass and I in my knees. But truly, I could not care less, and I’m sure she feels the same.