Difference between revisions of "Incest Seduction/Admit you lost your bet"

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(Created page with "You really screwed up. It's hard to take in at first. You look down at your slick thighs, up at Zack's shiny cock, then peek into your hands to glimpse the creamy deposit of b...")
 
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Latest revision as of 05:50, 2 September 2020

You really screwed up. It's hard to take in at first. You look down at your slick thighs, up at Zack's shiny cock, then peek into your hands to glimpse the creamy deposit of boy gunk that you worked out of your brother.

"But... you weren't supposed to do that! I wasn't... I didn't..."

Moving his attention back to the TV, Zack sighs and sinks into the couch a little, his cock now comfortably resting to one side. "C'mon Kimmy, just admit it. You lost." He sounds like he's somewhere between satisfied with this unexpected outcome and annoyed that you forced it happen.

"I... I lost." You really had no idea you would. You were so confident that you could win but you had no idea you could sabotage yourself so utterly with that confidence. You still want to blame him somehow, but you're the one cradling a handful of cum.

"Yeah, you did. Now would ya just lay down and take care of yourself already?"

If only you could. "What? But I... I can't do that."

"Fine. You can stand then. Whatever floats your boat."

"No! I told you already... I can't touch myself."

"Yeah. And I told you that was the risk of betting me. Now quit bitchin and fuckin rub it out."

You roll your eyes so hard you can see your own brain. "No! Listen you dummy! I can't! If I do that then I lose mom's bet too! That's not fair!"

"Not fair?" Zack rises from the couch, quickly towering over you, standing a mere foot away. He looks down with a disapproving patronizing gaze then walks away. Not wanting to be left behind like that you tail right behind him, but he keeps talking. "You sitting in my lap isn't fair. Hell, you being so young isn't fair."

"I'm fourteen!" you remind him, as if saying it makes you older.

"And shit, you're my sister! Everything about this is wrong. I can hardly keep from-" Zack stops himself then waves away his last thought. "Don't get me started on fair, oka-"

"Stop your whining!" you stomp, ignoring everything he just said. "This isn't about you! You won!"

Zack snatches his sweatpants from the kitchen counter and steps into them. "Oh come on! Aren't you proud of yourself yet? You literally made me cum. What else do you want from me Kimmy? You want me to push you up against a chair and fuck your stupid little brains out?"

You open your mouth to speak, ready to protest, but the anger won't come out. His threat of screwing you is hardly a threat at all. You'd actually love that. You just can't bring yourself to say it out loud. Feelings and images, real and imaginary, all rattle around inside your head. When your desire butts heads with your frustration all you can do is stammer with a furrowed brow.

"You... y-you would... wouldn't... but..."

"Look Kimberly, I didn-"

"You want to fuck me..." You interrupt him again. When your words finally come out they are dripping with sass and marked with a smirk. But they're not quite right. You want them to be dripping with sex but you sound more accusatory than sultry, like you're taunting him about how much he wants you. That just makes Zack scowl at you again.

"No, I want to cunt-punch you. Stupid, stupid..." He shakes his head and rubs his eyes, exasperated. Taking a step away from the counter, he turns toward the stairs. "Mooom! Kimberly's being a BITCH!"

With clenched teeth you stomp some more. "What the hell!? Why'd-you-do-that? You're such a dick!" You're so mad you nearly smack your brother but stop yourself since his jizz is still coating your hands. And then you wish you'd slap him anyway a moment later, mark him right across the chest with some of his winnings. He sure deserves it now.

"This is on you. You could've taken your so-called loss like a man, but you-"

"I'm a girl!"

"-won't shut up and get on with it. So get ready to pay the piper KimKim. You seem to forget I'm the one that puts up with your mood swings around here."

"My mood swings!?" you exclaim, fists clenched, nearly proving his point.

"Kimmybear?" Dad pokes his head in from outside. "What's going on?"

Mom descends the stairs right on cue grumbling and tying her robe, her tits bouncing with each angry step.. "Could you curse any louder Zachery!? Lord Almighty..."

While your parents swoop in Zack looks downright smug now. He leans in to taunt you, smiling ear to ear. "Go on, keep sassing me. I dare you." You swear there's no way you're taking that bait. You even close your lips tight. But then he nurples you again. In an instant you explode with a wild kick that only finds air.

"ARGH! Fucking jerk FUCK!"

The burst of pain that washes over you while trying to hold your turbulent emotions back ends up pushing you so far over the edge all your brain can do is curse incoherently to keep your emotions from turning into tears. You know that mom and dad are here. You know you shouldn't. But none of that stops you from erupting. Even as the words leave your mouth you know you screwed up, especially since you'd promised to be a good girl today.

Mom and dad both descend on you like ducks on bread, flanking either side, happy to tear you apart. They don't even question why your brother is shirtless, although that's probably your fault since you are now trying to normalize nudity in your household, apparently. Zack looks on with amusement but quickly spares you from your parents' harsh reaction.

"She lost the bet," interrupts Zack.

Mom and dad stop themselves cold before glancing at you and each other repeatedly. They're both thinking the same thing but then Mom catches on and assumes the only thing that Zack could be referring to.

"Oh... your silly spatula thing! Well it serves you right Kimmy! You shouldn't be putting utensils up your ass."

Dad dons a look of shock. "Excuse me?"

"You'll never win doing things like that," mom mutters to herself.

"And now she won't honor the bet," finishes Zack.

You'd never win? Some part of you is insulted. Your own mother thinks your carefully toned ass, the one she gave you, couldn't hold on to a bit of plastic for a few minutes. But you have to quickly get over your ego here or you risk revealing how you actually lost by grinding the literal spunk out of your brother.

"O-okay! I lost! But he said I have to finger myself!"

Mom slowly turns towards Zack with a blank look. He puts his hands up. "Guilty, I guess. Kimmy's just way too horny. She agreed to bang it out if she lost. Practically her idea. She basically asked for it."

"What?!" you rage. It's sorta kinda true, although not really. He's just trying to make you look bad. Well... worse.

Mom looks him up and down a moment contemplating that response, then turns back to you. "Did you agree to the bet Kimmy?"

"Well... Yeah, bu-"

"No buts. You should always follow through on your promises."

"But I'm not allo-"

"I said no buts!"

"You said I can't touch myself!" you hurriedly shout. "Gawd!"

Mom allows for a brief but dramatic silence before she leans in and whispers. "Are you going to let that stop you?"

"Huh?" you reply cluelessly.

Mom scoffs and pulls back. She adjusts the knot of her robe but does nothing to conceal her plunging open neckline and bountiful cleavage. "I swear your generation has no imagination. Maybe you're new to kitchen utensils, but have you never used a pillow before? I used to edge myself on the corner of my mattress growing up. I wore through more than one set of sheets doing that," she shares with a naughty look.

"Ew! Mom! What are you talking about?!" You lift your hand to cover your face in embarrassment and are again reminded of the creamy mess still coating your palms.

Your mother bats her eyelashes and demurely places a hand over her chest. "Oh, I'm sorry. My middle school aged daughter agreed to masturbate in front of her brother and I'm the gross one?"

It sounds so terrible now that your mom is saying it out loud. "I d-didn't think... I would lose."

"Hold up. Who put what where again?" asks dad, seemingly stuck on the logistics of the spatula.

"It was just... He started it!" you snap at your father, unable to admit to any further details. Mom promptly barks back.

"Kimberly! That's enough! I don't want to hear it! You could've quietly sorted something out with your brother but no, you just had to have an audience, didn't you? Well you've got one. Now are you going to do what you promised or are you going to keep kicking and screaming?"