Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 My Sister's Baby, By Asexual Guy Story Codes: 1st mf inc rape MF



   This story is based off of "My Sisters Baby", by Nonono69, whose story
ended too early; that is, the story ends before we know if the sister is
pregnant, even though the title clearly tells us she does.  I didn't like
that, so I wrote my own version of the story.  Enjoy!

   --

   My sister got pregnant because I went to a party.

   See, it my first year of high school.  I wasn't that popular, and had to
do everything myself because my snotty sister didn't want to be seen with a
freshman.  Girls are like that sometimes.

   Anyway, some guy named Al was having a party that was supposed to be THE
biggest party ever, with more beer there than numbers in the phone book.  I
wasn't so sure about the party because I'd never been to a beer bash
before, but it was the first party I'd been invited to, so I figured I
couldn't miss it.  Besides, my friend Mark was going.

   The first thing I thought when we showed up was, "Damn, look at all the
people." The place was packed with people, all sitting around and drinking
beer.  After that party, I vowed never to drink beer again, but back then I
wanted to see what beer tasted like, so I got myself a can and drank up. 
It tasted weird, but I drank it anyway.

   There was a big lake for everyone to swim in, but the water was used
more for keeping the beers cold than for swimming.  Mark and I drank some
beers and checked out the girls in their bathing suits.  We had a generally
good time.

   The party moved inside around 8:00 or so.  Everyone kept on downing
beers, but Mark and I weren't because we had gotten tired of it.  I mean,
you can only do that for so long before it gets boring.  Actually, the
party was getting kind of boring, because there wasn't much to do except
drink beer and listen to the mellow music on the stereo.  We stayed at the
party anyway, though.

   Around 11:00, Mark found me and made me follow him upstairs.  "You won't
belive what's going on up here," he told me.  He led me to one of the
farther-away rooms and knocked on the door twice.  The host of the party,
Al something, poked his head out, nodded, and let us in.

   Inside the room were two beds.  On each bed was a naked girl, lying face
down and giving us a good view of her ass.  I looked at the girl's asses.
The girl on the left had a weird birthmark thing on her left butt cheek,
and the girl on the right had an ass that was covered with red blotchy
things, just like the ones on my ass.  Nasty.

   Both of the girls had a pillowcase over her head.  Al, the guy who was
hosting the party, said that was to protect their privacy.  That was a load
of crap that I saw through immediately.  If the girls cared about privacy,
they wouldn't be lying there naked in front of people.  I wasn't
complaining though, because they were girls, they were naked, and they were
right in front of me.  I mean, who'd complain about that?

   I could see some hair poking out of the pillowcases, so I was able to
tell that the girl with the birthmark was a redhead, and the girl with the
splotchy butt was a blonde.  I was busy looking at the girls when someone
else knocked on the door.  Al opened the door and let two guys in.

   The two guys gave Al $20.00 each and took their clothes off.  Al gave
both of the guys a condom, and they started having sex with the girls on
the beds.  Apparently, Al was acting as a pimp on behalf of the two girls.
Not a bad deal, if I say so myself.

   The sex was actually kind of boring to watch.  When you fantasize about
having sex, you usually imagine the girl moaning and groaning as loudly as
possible.  Well, the sex was nothing like that.  The girls weren't moaning
or groaning at all.  In fact, they weren't even moving, not even a little
bit.

   While we were watching the sex, Al asked us if we wanted a turn, and
Mark said, "Fuck yeah, we do." Al then told us to go back to the party, and
he'd come and get us when it was time.

   We went back to the party, and Mark was really excited about losing his
virginity.  I was excited too, but I played it cool.  Mark didn't, and
almost wet his pants with joy when Al came back down to tell us our turn
was coming up next.

   Al asked for our names, and he stared at me kind of strangely.  Then we
both gave him twenty bucks, and he said that Mark would go first, then he'd
come down and tell me when it was my turn.  I didn't know what that was
about, because the guys we watched both went at the same time, but I
decided not to complain.  Al already had my twenty bucks, and I didn't want
my money wasted, after all.

   Al took Mark up to the room.  I wasn't there, so I didn't see what
happened, but Mark told me all about it afterwards.  He said that Al told
him to put on a condom, and then get on the bed with the redhead, not the
blonde.  Mark didn't know why he couldn't screw the blonde, but like me, he
decided not to complain about it.

   When Mark was telling me about this, he went on and on about how great
the sex was.  He said it felt good.  He said it felt great.  He said it
felt even better than eating a steaming hot pepperoni pizza with a cold mug
of root beer by your side.  I asked him why sex made him think about food,
but he never game me an answer to that.

   I bet Mark was lying his ass off about what happened, because he said he
lasted for seven whole minutes before cumming.  Yeah, right.  It probably
only lasted ten seconds.  But back to the story, after Mark blew his load,
he threw the condom in the trash can by the bed, then went downstairs to
get me.  As soon as he told me it was time for me to go, I hurried upstairs
to the room where the girls were.

   When I showed up, the redhead was covered by a blanket for some reason.
I asked about that, and Al said that they ran out of condoms, so everyone
had to have sex with the blonde from now on, because she was on the pill.
No one wanted any unplanned pregnancies, he assured me.

   I took off my clothes, which was kind of awkward to do in front of Al,
and then I put the first third or so of my penis in the blonde's vagina. 
It felt...weird.  That's how I'd explain it.  I had an even worse case of
premature ejaculation than Mark, and spurted out right then, before I had
even put myself all the way in or gotten used to the feeling.  A real
disappointment.  I waited for my penis to stop twitching, and then I pulled
out.

   Al noticed I still had a hard on.  He looked at it for a second (the
pervert) and asked me if I could handle going with the blonde another time.
Naturally, I agreed, because what I had done already could hardly be
counted as sex.  I immediately slipped my penis back into the blonde, this
time being a little more prepared for how it would feel.

   I slid in and out of the blonde, which made me feel like a necrophiliac.
Let me explain.  I once read somewhere that necrophiliacs don't get turned
on by having sex with dead bodies, but instead they get turned on by the
idea of having sex with someone who isn't putting up any resistance
whatsoever.  That's what having sex with the blonde was like; she wasn't
moving at all.  I figured out later that this was because the girl was
passed out.  I would have figured that out at the time, if only I hadn't
had so many beers.

   I had my second go with the unconscious girl, and Al didn't invite me to
a third, so I put my clothes back on and went back downstairs.  Mark and I
talked about it for a while, and he went on and on about it like I told you
earlier.  Listening to Mark, you'd think he had sex with a major porn star,
not a passed out girl.  Eventually, we left the party and went home.

   The next time I saw Mark was at school on Monday.  He looked at me
strangely and didn't want to talk about the party, which I thought was
strange because the last time I saw him, he wouldn't shut up.  I asked what
was wrong, and he gave me another strange look, asking "Did you have sex
with the blonde or the redhead?"

   "The blonde," I said.  "She was the only one available."

   "What do you mean 'only one available'?" Mark asked.

   "Al said they ran out of condoms, so I had to do the blonde because she
was on the pill," I said.  "I guess the redhead wasn't on the pill, then."

   Mark looked really shocked.  "What's wrong?" I asked again.  He didn't
answer me right away, but instead he started talking about the party in
general.

   "Apparently, two of the girls at the party were drinking the whole time,
and they both passed out around 10:00," Mark told me.  "Al carried them
upstairs and made guys pay to have sex with them.  The girls didn't know
about this, because Al kept their identities a secret."

   "Okay, fine, Al's a horrible person," I said, annoyed that Mark didn't
tell me what was wrong.  "What does that have to do with me having sex with
the blonde?"

   "Al told me who the girls were," Mark said.  "The redhead is some senior
I don't know.  I know who the blonde is, though." Mark fell silent.

   "And...?" I said, getting annoyed at Mark's beating around the bush.

   "She's your sister," he said.

   It was like I caught a strange disease at that exact moment.  I went as
white as a sheet and felt the urge to throw up.  In my mind, I tried to
compare the blonde I had sex with to my sister.  They had the same sort of
figure, and indentical hair color.  But that didn't necessarily mean she
was my--

   Then I remember the red splotches on her ass, identical to the ones on
mine.  That clinched it for me.  Obviously, we suffered from some weird
splotchy ass gene, which meant...

   I had sex with my sister.

   Unprotected sex.

   While she was passed out.

   Not only that, but I had paid for the ability to do so.

   I couldn't possibly think of anything worse than that.  Actually, I
could.  What if she got pregnant?  I had a horrible feeling that she would.
How could that have happened?

   Mark explained that when Al found out I was her brother, he decided to
play a joke by hiding the condoms to get me to have unprotected sex with my
sister.  What kind of sick joke is that?

   Naturally, I immediately put "kicking Al's ass" at the top of my to-do
list and headed straight to Al's house, with Mark in tow.  As soon as Al
saw me, he started laughing and calling me a horny drunk-ass incester,
which isn't even a real word.  Mark was holding me back, so all I could do
was yell at him.  He just laughed and said he got eight hundred dollars, so
whoring out my sister was totally worth it.

   When he started thanking me for having such a hot sister, I broke free
from Mark and bashed Al in his big, fat, ugly fucking face.  We got in a
big fight, which only ended when the police showed up and pulled me off of
Al.

   The cop that came out of the car was calm, and said he'd give me a
chance to explain why I attacked Al before arresting me for assault.  "You
want to know why?!" I screamed at the cop.  "He tricked me into having sex
with my sister, that's why!"

   The cop wasn't impressed at all, and sarcastically asked about how you
could possibly trick someone into having sex with his sister.  I started
talking about how Al was whoring girls at the party, but Al interrupted,
saying that I was a liar, and all I did at the party was get drunk so I
didn't remember it correctly.

   The cop asked Al if he was willing to "make a statement" about that.  Al
swore that it was true: all I did was get drunk at the party, and I was
making the whole whoring thing up.  The cop then smiled, and arrested Al
for illegally serving alcohol to minors.

   NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I have been told by the police to let all you
readers know that this story is fiction.  What happens here in the story
could never happen in real life.  In real life, the narrator and Mark would
immediately be arrested for rape.  For the sake of the story, though, they
do not.  Please do not think you can have sex with a passed-out girl,
confess this to the police, and not get arrested.

   Al got really pissed off then and called the cop a lot of bad names. 
Then he moved onto me, and said that I might have gotten him in trouble,
but I was still a stupid idiot he tricked into having sex with his sister.
The cop showed a lot of interest in this, and Al finally figured out that
the best thing to do would be to shut the hell up.

   The cop locked Al in the car and interviewed me and Mark for the report.
We told him the whole story, and he said I wouldn't have to worry about
being arrested for assault anymore.  He mentioned something about appearing
in court someday, then got back in the car and drove off.

   I walked home with Mark.  We didn't say anything because we were pretty
shocked at what happened with Al getting arrested.  As we got closer to my
house, Mark asked the question that I was trying to avoid: how I was going
to tell my sister about what happened.  I honestly had no idea.

   Then Mark gasped and pointed at my driveway, where there was a police
car.  The cop we talked to earlier was standing next to the car, talking to
my mother and sister.  Mark immediately disappeared from the area, leaving
me to deal with everything all alone.

   I could tell from the shocked look on my mother and sister's faces that
the cop was telling them about how my sister got drunk at the party, and
how Al whored her while she was passed out.  As I approached, I heard the
cop say that it was probably around twenty girls who had to have sex with
my sister.  My mom and sister both gasped.

   As soon as the policeman left, my mom went to her room to lie down, and
my sister sat down, grabbed her hair and stared at the floor.  I tried to
talk to her, but not very hard because I still had no idea what to say to
her.  All I got out of her was a promise to never drink beer again, a
promise that I had already made, although we both made it way too late.

   The conversation was awkward at dinner, because we wanted to talk about
what happened to my sister as badly as we didn't want to talk about what
happened to my sister.  From the little conversation that was held, though,
I figured out something: they didn't I was one of the people who had sex
with her, which left me with the problem of telling them that.  Great.  I
took a deep breath and started talking.

   "I was at the party," I said.

   "Really," my father said, sounding as if he was forcing himself to sound
calm.  "Both my children were at a beer blast without permission.  I should
ground you both for a month."

   My sister asked the question my father had purposefully avoided: "Did
you know that guys were paying sex with passed-out girls there?"

   "Yes," I said.  "I was one of them."

   I caught a glimpse of my sister's eyes, and we both immediately found it
impossible to look at each other anymore.

   "And w...which girl did you choose to have sex with?" my sister asked,
her eyes on the floor.

   "I didn't get a choice," I told the floor.  "The guy who was running the
deal covered up one of the girls, making up a story about how she wasn't on
the pill.  So I was forced to have sex with the other girl."

   "So you had unprotected sex with one of the girls?" my sister asked,
trying to sound casual, but still with her eyes on the ground.

   "Yes," I said, also trying to sound casual.  "The blonde one."

   "I thought as much," she said, her voice cracking for the first time.  I
didn't look, but I could tell she broke into tears and started crying
silently.  At least, that's what I did.

   No one said anything else after that, because everyone's appetite had
pretty much gone away.  After dinner, I gave my sister some time alone
before I entered her room to talk to her.

   She looked up at me, her face full of tears, and I felt tears well up in
my eyes as well.  I blinked hard and sat down on the bed next to her.  As
long as we were both going to be crying, we should be crying together.

   After a while, she spoke.  "We're going to go to hell now," she said.

   "That's not fair," I said.  "We didn't know we were committing incest."

   "Neither did Oedipus, but he went to hell anyway," my sister said.

   It took me a second to realize she was talking about some ancient Greek
story that schools like to force students to read.  Oedipus was a guy who
had sex with his mother, mainly because he was adopted and no one told him
about it, so he didn't know she was his mother.

   "I'm not Oedipus," I affirmed, making sure she understood it was just a
story.  "You're not Jocasta.  I'm not going to rip my eyes out, and you're
not going to kill yourself."

   "I know that," she said, "But what are we going to do?"

   "Be there for each other," I said, because I couldn't think of anything
else to say.

   She laughed ironically.  "That's the cheesiest thing I've ever heard,"
she said.

   "What am I supposed to say?" I asked.

   "Nothing," she said.  "I don't think there's anything that anyone can
say."

   I agreed with her, and the two of us sat on her bed in silence for a few
hours afterwards.

   --

   A week later, we were called to be witnesses at Al's trial, along with
various other people who went to the party.  My friend Mark would have been
there, but his parents sent him to military school when they found out he
paid to have sex with a girl he didn't know.

   Al was found guilty and sent to jail, of course.  Everyone figured that
was his punishment for the bad things that he had done.  My sister and I
got our punishment shortly after that, when the doctor confirmed she was
pregnant.

   My sister and I didn't cry any more when we got the news.  We just
hugged each other and didn't let go for a long time.  She told me that it
was good I was the father, instead of some unknown person.  At least the
father of her child would be someone that she loved.  It was another cheesy
line, but we agreed that in this case, it was true.

   The next several months were full of more of the same sort of thing,
with me and my sister comforting each other constantly.  It must have been
really hard on her to be pregnant in high school, without being able to
tell anyone who the father was.  I'm glad I didn't have to go through that.

   However bad it was, things changed forever when the baby was born. 
People always say that a baby changes everything, and that's because it's
true.  On May 15th, my sister gave birth to our daughter, Dymphna.

   Since we didn't know for sure that I was the father, the doctor took
blood samples from all three of us, and tested them.  The blood tests were
positive: we were all related.  Dymphna had half of our genes, so we were
her parents, and my sister and I had twenty percent of our genes in common,
so we were definitely related, which seemed like useless information to me.
I mean, we already knew we were brother and sister.
The news that I was the father didn't shock us at all, because we had
known it all along.  My sister just smiled at me and said, "I knew it." I
nodded, and the two of us went back to playing with Dymphna.  We loved her

so much, and we never said it, but we loved each other, too.

   My sister and I had an interesting kind of love.  It wasn't physical,
because we never had sex with each other.  We didn't kiss each other,
either.  But I could tell we were more than just brother and sister, and
she knew it too.  I'm pretty sure that's why we both stopped dating after
Dymphna was born.

   When Dymphna was growing up, we told her that she was our sister, just
to make things simpler for her.  Our parents pretended to be her parents,
but it was pretty obvious that Dymphna had more than just a normal sibling
relationship with me and my sister.  We both graduated from college and got
jobs, but we stayed at our house in order to be with her.

   The years went by, and Dymphna became a good student, especially in
science.  Finally, when she was twelve, we told her the truth: that we were
her parents, not her brother and sister.  It might have been a little
early, but we thought she could handle it.

   She didn't believe us at first, but I showed her the results of the
blood tests, which I held onto ever since we got them.  Dymphna looked them
over and asked why my sister and I only had twenty percent of our genes in
common instead of fifty.

   I had no idea what she was talking about, because I'm no good at
science. I asked her what she meant, and she just rolled her eyes and said
I was too stupid to understand, which I took to be a sign that she was
alread used to the idea of me being her father.  I knew she'd be able to
accept it easily.  She really was a smart kid.

   But immediately afterwards, it looked like I was wrong about her being
able to accept it easily.  She insisted that we take some more blood tests
to prove her paternity.  We agreed to this, of course, and arranged to
visit the hospital later that week, where they took blood samples from me,
my sister, Dymphna, and our parents, because Dymphna insisted that they
give blood samples, too.

   The results came in a few days later.  Dymphna was really curious to see
what they said, although we weren't, because we already knew what the
results were.  Sure enough, the tests proved that my sister and I were
Dymphna's parents.

   There was a wrinkle to the news: the blood tests proved that our parents
weren't really Dymphna's grandparents after all.  The doctor explained that
the blood tests clearly proved my mother must have had an affair when she
conceived me, because I didn't have any of my father's genes.

   Everyone was shocked to hear this, except Dymphna who had suspected it,
and my mother, who knew she had an affair.  Dad was pretty angry and took
off, and Mom chased after him.  I'm not sure what happened to them next,
because they both refuse to tell me.

   I do know what happened with me next, because later that night, I talked
about the news with my sister, I mean half-sister, in her room.  "So we're
no longer brother and sister," I said.  "What does that mean?"

   My half-sister took a long look at me, and said, "It means that now we
can love each other in the normal way."

   My heart skipped a few beats as I anticipated what was going to happen
next.  My half-sister and I leaned close together and kissed each other. 
It was a soft, short kiss.  Our first kiss together.

   After the kiss, we looked at each other, wondering if we should go any
further.  Then we silently agreed to screw taking things slowly, and
started making out furiously.  After all, we did have twelve years of
pent-up sexual energy inside of us.

   Our tongues started wrestling against each other.  She leaned backwards
on her bed, and I leaned over her, not wanting to break the kiss.  I slid
my hands up the bottom of her shirt, moving them towards her breasts.

   "Woah!" a voice said.  We turned around to see Dymphna at the doorway.
I'm sure my half-sister and I both turned red.

   There was some silence, then I cleared my throat and said, "Go away,
Dymphna."

   "Sure thing...Dad." Dymphna said, trying the word out.  "But next time
you should try shutting the door."

   "If you don't go away," my half-sister said, playing on her new role as
a mom, "We're going to ground you, young lady."

   "Yeah, yeah," Dymphna said, shutting the door.  "Have fun screwing each
other."

   My half-sister and I smiled at each other for a moment, embarrassed,
then we went back to making out.  And...other things.

   --

   That's basically the end of the story, but before I stop everything, I
just want to say why I wrote the story in the first place.  I wrote it
because it's the story of what happened after I went to my first party in
high school.  You see, earlier tonight, Dymphna left to go to _her_ first
party in high school.

   I sure hope she doesn't come back pregnant.

   The End