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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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Confessions (family, inc)
by Phil Phantom (pp@philphantom.com)
HTTP://PhilPhantom.Com
***
My parents began acting awfully strange after we returned to
church as a family, specifically with regards to confessions
after dinners on Sunday, which I never remembered as being part
of family church going. I was just a little kid back then, six
when we stopped going, but I would have remembered my mother
making sexual confessions, and all of hers were sexual. Except
for being a bisexual nymphomaniac, Mom was a perfect angel.
Sissy might not remember. She was four when we stopped going.
Jeff and John were just babies, twin babies, now twin
ten-year-olds. Sissy was now fourteen. I had just turned sixteen.
Our first sermon was all about confession, the need to make
public confession, but not necessarily to a preacher like the
fucking Catholics do. The family would do, but public confession
was the first step on the road to getting right with God. You had
to do that. He also preached that thoughts were sins. They should
also be confessed if you sinned in thought. "As ye thinketh, so
are ye." God did not differentiate between sins that are thought
on, and sins that are acted on. If you are going to think about
it, you may as well do it. That was the message I got. I thought
that sermon was kinda dumb, but I thought church was dumb,
religion was dumb, and we were dumb for going as a family when
none of us wanted to go as individuals.
We had to go because Dad was under a great deal of pressure from
his employer, my mother's father, my Grandpa who was born again
and wanted all of us to be born again and be saved when the
rapture came and Jesus took up all the saved souls and left all
the non-confessing scum buckets to suffer seven years of terrible
tribulation precluding Armageddon, whereupon the forces of good
and evil would duke it out once and for all, but since all the
good guys had been snatched seven years earlier, seemed like a
very lopsided battle. My money was on the scum buckets. John
thought Saturday morning cartoons weren't that dumb.
This was all new to Sissy. Church was neat. She liked dressing
up, loved singing, loved being loved by so many good huggers who
thought she was adorable, just like her mother, so pretty. She
thought being born again was dumb, too, but she didn't care. The
twins hated church for the same reason Sissy loved it. Jeff
brought up a good point - how can you be born again if you don't
get back inside a pussy. He only made that point to me, but I
thought that was the smartest thing he ever said.
Mom grew up in that church and everyone knew her. They were glad
to see her pussy back in the pews, though she had it dragged
back. Dad was the last person you would expect to see in a suit,
much less a church. He did the dragging. If he had to go, we all
had to go. Shut up and sing for Jesus, god damnit!
So, we do the church thing, but the confession sermon didn't take
root. Nothing changed - in one ear, out the other - blah, blah,
blah, amen, praise the Lord - hugs, kisses, se ya next week - bye
bye.
That sermon didn't take for three weeks. Then, for no apparent
reason, dinnertime confessions became a must, family policy. We
all remembered the sermon, still seemed dumb, but now they were
buying it, and Dad, being the head of the family went first,
confessing to wanting to deck some guy, also wanting to bang some
cheerleader and her mother, plus he pocketed twenty bucks from
Grandpa's cash register, which he meant to pay back, but hadn't
gotten around to it. Grandpa never noticed, so Dad planned on
keeping it, making that a theft and a sin, now confessed, leaving
him twenty to the good, not a bad deal. Still seemed dumb, except
for wanting to bang that cheerleader and her mom. We could always
lie to Grandpa and tell him we were confessing shit after dinner.
Mom spent her whole life lying to them. Why change?
Now it was Mom's turn to confess a week's worth of shit. I braced
for more dumbness while trying to think of what I would confess
to. I sure as hell wouldn't make a true confession. I could just
see me saying, "Well, I thought about fucking Mom twenty times
this week. I thought about fucking Sissy ten times - Sissy and
Mom together about a hundred. I sniffed a pair of Mom's panties
while jacking off. I licked Mom's dildo right after she used it -
three times this week - about average. I waited for Sissy to
emerge from the shower so I could yank her towel and see if she
had grown anymore cunt hairs since I last yanked her towel.
Looked the same but her tits seemed to have grown bigger in one
day. I offered the twins a buck apiece to suck my dick. They
tried to Jew me out of two bucks apiece, but I offered two to the
one who took the load and swallowed it. John got two bucks; Jeff
got one. Jeff was pissed because John wouldn't give up the dick
when it was his turn.
"I confess to thinking that my brothers are a couple of cheap
faggots, my mother is a cheating bisexual whore, my sister would
like to be a bisexual whore but she's too chicken to dress sexy
with no panties on and go see the child molester who lives right
across the street, or lick Mom's pussy for her though she gets to
shave it and wishes she could, and my Dad is a redneck drunk who
hasn't got the balls to fuck his sexy daughter, but will spank
her bare ass on the lamest pretext when he's drunk just so he can
pull her panties down and count her cunt hairs while he smacks
her cute fanny while Mom watches and gets all horny over that
juicy clam that begs a licking. I confess to thinking that my
sister and my mother would love to suck each other's cunts while
they each pulled a train. I confess to wanting to be the engineer
on both trains."
I couldn't say that, and Dad didn't confess to giving Sissy one
of the best spankings he ever gave her, or mentioning the hardon
she gave him, or what he wanted to do with it instead of using it
to put Mom out of her misery. Mom acting like she had something
terrible to confess, something just awful, too embarrassing
interrupted my thoughts. She just couldn't. We were all ears as
Dad told her she must, and she said she couldn't - she must - she
couldn't. He insisted. She takes a deep breath and hangs her head
in both hands.
I sat up. This had to be good, and it was coming. She just needed
to think of a good way to put it in front of children. Dad gave
her time, but reminded her that we weren't babies and we all knew
the facts of life. That had Sissy sitting up. The twins knew
something good was coming before I did. I think Sissy was like
me, trying to think of a confession she could confess. She lagged
slightly behind me, but we were all sitting forward and waiting
when Mom raised her head.
She looked to each of us, then to dad to say, "John, I had sexual
intercourse with two men on Wednesday."
Fuck! We knew she fucked around, but never thought she'd admit
it. Mom is a sexy woman, cute and sexy, playfully sexy. She draws
horny men like hungry flies to a dead squirrel and the woman
loves male attention. She is friendly, flirty, and dresses sexy.
Guys find it easy to approach her. She looks easy and always
looks like she wants to fuck, and she looks like she'd be a great
fuck - lively, energetic, enthusiastic, limber, willing to try
anything, and affordable. You could watch her around men and know
she fucks around, needing only an opportunity, and she had plenty
while we were in school and Dad was at the feed store. She wasn't
picky and race was no issue. She'd never say, no, she'd say, not
now, then make arrangements that we kids often overheard. If we
didn't overhear, we saw the sample feel and parting kiss.
Dad had to know he married a cheating whore. He wasn't stupid and
he wasn't blind. He wasn't very jealous, either. They often went
out drinking together. He often came home alone, sometimes as a
party of three and he ended up sleeping on the couch. If we got
up in the morning and saw Dad sleeping on the couch, we knew Mom
wouldn't be getting up to cook breakfast. We never saw her
fucking some guy, but knew she fucked a lot of guys, and fucked
some while Dad slept and we fixed ourselves breakfast. Mom can't
cum quietly or fuck slow and easy. Dad didn't look surprised,
hurt, or pissed. He wanted a full confession. Who, when, where,
why, how many times, and did you let them cum in your pussy?
He put it too her just like that, too, but that was nothing new.
We learned the facts of life by listening at Mom's bedroom door,
or hearing Dad talk about his day at the feed store, hearing
about all the good pussy he waited on and wanted to pork. He
always wanted to pork the mothers and the daughters - fuck the
mother and cum in the daughter. Mom was a doer; Dad was a
dreamer. He had Sissy dreaming about him porking Mom and cumming
in her pussy. He had me, Jeff, and John dreaming about watching
him pork Mom and cumming in Sissy's pussy. Those were the facts
of life.
Those facts weren't lost on Sissy. She knew that, one day, he'd
do it and Mom would let him. From puberty on, she was ready
whenever they were. Her spankings were leading to that, slowly
but surely. You never saw a girl go so easily over her father's
lap and pull her own panties down, usually off. He'd pull them
down, but she'd take them off. She'd get those leg restraints
totally out of the way. Those sonsa-bitches could keep a girl
from showing her pussy if they didn't get well past the knees.
Sometimes, Mom took them off for her. One way or another, they'd
end up on the floor, and her parted legs would end up on Mom's
lap.
Boy, that last spanking was a good one. Got her juicy pussy
spanked for something like twenty minutes. Me and the twins
watched from the hall with a good view of the pussy. That was one
soggy red cunt there toward the end, but she liked her cunt red
and mushy. She had a bad pussy. They sure taught that bad pussy a
lesson for having an untidy room. Her pussy didn't make that
mess, but pussy paid the price.
Things were changing. That was the first big change I noticed,
and the first confession session went down the following night.
Sissy's pussy still tingled from the night before. Me and the
twins were still dealing with erection aftershocks stemming from
that spanking. Dad's hand still stunk. Mom washed her hands of
that matter but kept checking Sissy's pussy to make sure the
swelling was still going down, and you would think she were
checking Sissy's feet for blisters. You would think she routinely
examined Sissy's pussy in front of her brothers, and totally
exposing her was no big deal. I assure you nothing could be
further from the truth, but we brothers, like cunt consultants,
always gathered around Doctor Mom whenever she examined Sissy's
cunt.
Things were changing. Dad dragged out all the details with us
kids hanging on her every response. She answered every question,
openly and honestly, though not as crudely as the questions were
posed. The gist was that she got turned on watching two hunks in
shorts clean our pool. They began flirting with her. She flirted
back, got hornier, put on her itty bitty bikini, let them remove
the suit and apply oil to her entire body, then took them into
the bedroom and spread her legs wide so they could fuck her and
cum in her pussy. She didn't put it in those terms, but that was
the gist. Images of the gist gave me a woody I could drive nails
with.
That was a good confession. She had me throbbing in my BVDs, and
she had Sissy doing thigh squeezes. I made a mental note to find
out where Sissy took those panties off. That girl can flat
gooey-up a pair of panties with a strong pussy scent. Mom's pussy
has very little stink to it. She is into those flavored douches,
strawberry in particular. Who wants hairless pussy that smells
like strawberries. To this day, I can't smell a strawberry scent
without getting a hardon.
Sissy had the best sniffing panties, but you had to steer clear
of the skid marks or you'd go from Heaven to Hell in a fraction
of an inch. With Mom, you never ran into skid marks. Then again,
she doesn't ride a bike. If she did, she probably wouldn't wear
panties. Half the time she didn't anyway, and I doubted that she
ever wore them to church. She did do that just for spite and left
a gooey spot on the pew that smelled like strawberries and looked
like fuck. Welcome back, Susan.
Mom very much resented having to return to church, which made
this confession thing all the more odd. It didn't occur to me
that they would get off on that confession shit, but it did after
two Sunday nights of listening to Mom make sexual confessions
that left me with blue balls and damn near had Sissy cumming in
her panties. Mom's confessions got better each week. The telling
also improved. Less needed to be dragged out, and more details
were thrown in, also put in layman's terms. She never did talk
like a whore before going back to church, but not long after
going back, crude expressions and vulgarity began creeping into
her speech. Before long, there wasn't much difference between the
way she talked and the way Dad talked.
At the second confession session, she confessed to screwing three
guys and got it on with one chick that week. She met one man at
the house, sucked him and fucked him. He returned the next day
for another blow job and he fucked her in the ass. She met two
others while out shopping. She screwed one in the back seat of
his car in a shopping center parking lot. She went to a motel
with the other and fucked his brains out all afternoon. That was
the day she didn't get home until eight in the evening. The chick
was a neighbor lady two houses down, a good looking young
housewife - a newlywed, a really cute one, too. We all knew they
were getting it on, but this confirmed that. They had coffee and
pussy every morning. What a way to start your day. She would have
mentioned Angela the previous Sunday but Angela was away on
vacation with her new hubby that week. That was a week without
pussy, a rare week.
A busy week makes for a great confession, a thirty-minute
confession. She also confessed to having thoughts about screwing
our neighbor's dog, who keeps getting into our yard and acting
all horny with her, nosing her in the crotch while she's trying
to get an all-over tan - sniffing, licking, trying to get her
interested in doing more than petting him while he licked her
pussy. She confessed to thinking about it and did sin in thought.
She went all the way with him and let him cum in her pussy - in
thought.
She lets everything cum in her pussy. I didn't know why she
bothered mentioning that fact, other than Dad showed interest in
the first confession. We knew he had a thing about cumming in
pussy - especially, young, fertile, unprotected pussy like
Sissy's. Mom was sure to tell us where the fucker came each time
he came, how much he came, and what his cum tasted like if the
fucker came in her mouth. Every man had a unique taste, a flavor.
She preferred non-somkers. The twins were interested in that. So
was Sissy. I was, too, but not for the same reasons they were.
Actually, I don't know why I was interested, but I found that
interesting. I found everything she had to say interesting. She
was such a sexy woman, and had been a sex object for me since the
age of two, and a sex goddess since puberty, I loved hearing her
talk openly about sex. More than that, I loved hearing her talk
openly the way a whore would, often referring to herself as a
whore or slut.
She was a whore, had always been a whore, but was now acting like
one, at least being open about it. She always acted like one, a
guilty one. Confession suited her. She liked getting that off her
chest. She liked getting the bra off her chest, too. Confession
night became braless night - pantieless night, too, but the
missing bra was obvious. In fact, all day Sunday was no-underwear
day after she left that puddle of fuck in the pews on the third
Sunday, which was the one before the first confession session.
Her Sunday best was short, slinky, sexy dresses, no underwear,
and a freshly shaved and fucked pussy to plop in the pews between
her mother and her husband. That came as no shock to her mommy
and daddy. They were just glad to get her pussy back in a pews.
Her mother gladly wiped up the puddles she made - quickly, too.
The old bitch would shit if she ever wiped up mutt fuck and knew
it. I shouldn't call her an old bitch. She is really a sweet and
gentle lady, getting along in her years, but holding up quite
well. I'd fuck her, so would Sugarbear, and he's pickier than I
am.
Actually, I wasn't surprised that Mom gave serious thought to
fucking Sugarbear. He is one clean sexy animal who seems to know
what human pussy is good for, and which legs support the best. I
always figured she was fucking him and was surprised that she
hadn't. That news floored Sissy, and I was surprised to hear Mom
admit to thinking seriously about giving the nice pooch some
nookie. The twins thought that was pretty neat. Jeff asked her
why she didn't. She was about to answer but Dad stopped her,
turning to Jeff to tell him that we were not playing thousand
questions. We were hearing confession, and only what the
confessor wishes to confess. Only he could ask the questions. He
then looked to Mom and said, "Why didn't you let the mutt fuck
you?"
Mom shrugged and said, "I was comfortable the way I was and he
seemed content to lick. If I had been out crawling around pulling
weeds in the nude, I probably would have. I'm sure if I were in
that position, he'd mount me and screw me silly. He doesn't seem
to know what to do with a bitch that is lying on her back with
her legs apart, other than to lick her pussy for her. He is so
good at licking pussy, you don't want to stop him to do anything
else. I can't imagine his dick feeling any better, though he does
have a nice big dick for a Samoyed. I should have let him fuck me
as a reward, but after that womb licking, I was wasted - too
pooped to get up and play bitch for him. I had three orgasms,
three good ones. After three, there was no way I could get up and
be a good bitch for him. He deserves a good one, one that is
fresh and responsive. I should let him fuck me first and then let
him lick me. I'm sure he would. That is the lickingest dog I ever
knew. He licks deeper than any dog I ever knew. I hope he fucks
as good as he licks. He could be the best dog I ever knew."
Good answer. Not the slightest bit of shame. She used the crude
terms. That was good. She offered information beyond what was
asked. Excellent. That candid response and bestial admission
impressed Sissy. When her turn came around, she made her first
sexual confession. She masturbated nine times that week, mostly
with a candle or her hair brush handle. Dad wanted to know what
she thought about while fucking her pussy, and he put it to her
in those terms. She didn't masturbate; she fucked herself. He
wanted to make that distinction. I thought that was a good move -
get her thinking about fucking. Masturbating wasn't a sin, but
fucking yourself is. She admitted to the sinning variety.
That put her on the spot. Not because she fucked herself and was
no virgin. She was glad he picked up on that. He knew the brush
and she let it be known that she took the eight-inch handle to
the bristles because the bristles felt good on her clit and
helped her acheive orgasm. She didn't want to tell him what she
thought about while fucking her pussy with an object as long and
as hard as his dick.
I knew what one fantasy was - the guy across the street. I knew
she wouldn't divulge that. Everyone knew about that guy, what a
horny old fart he was. A girl would have to be sick to want to
give that creepy pervert all the pussy he wanted, but she did
think about it a great deal. I urged her to. I don't know why,
but I thought that would be neat if that old fart was molesting
the fuck out of my sister and getting away with it. I wanted to
watch and he'd let me. We were buddies. I told him what she
looked like with no clothes on. She knew and thought that was
pretty neat. She wanted to know exactly what I told him, every
word, word for word. In that way, she found out exactly what I
thought of her. Her towels were never difficult to get off after
that, and her legs were never difficult to part. She'd let me get
a good look so that I could report all new developments to Happy
Pappy. I suppose she masturbated and thought about me at times,
but I didn't expect she'd want to share those thoughts, either.
She told Dad that she thought about the spankings, certain boys
at school, a teacher who had the hots for her, and some of the
horny men she met in church, especially the ones who felt her ass
while hugging. She included Grandpa, always a great little-girl
hugger, which brought a knowing smile from Mom. She named a few
of her favorite stars and rock idols, and ended by mentioning
Sugarbear. If Mom could admit to being a bitch, she could admit
to wanting to be a bitch. Sugarbear liked her, too. He licked
her, too. He'd mount her if she pulled weeds in the nude, and she
was thinking about doing some nude gardening. That was what she
thought about while fucking her pussy.
Sissy was surprisingly candid and proud of herself for being so
candid. I was sorely tempted to ask her why she didn't mention
Happy Pappy. That would have let the air out of her balloon. The
folks were pleased with her and praised her for being so honest.
They found out she liked the spanking and fantasized having to
get naked in front of the whole family for them. I could see Dad
making a mental note. I didn't think he'd have to get drunk next
time. I thought she'd get one right after dinner. I'm sure she
did too after Mom encouraged her to do some nude gardening and
see what happens. That's a good way to tell your daughter to go
fuck a mutt. Sissy took it that way and wasn't the least
insulted. That was a good sign. If they'd let her fuck a mutt,
Happy Pappy wasn't much of a step lower. Then again, he could get
her pregnant and that was what he wanted to do.
To be Pappy's playmate, she'd have to let him cum in her pussy.
He and Dad shared that passion. That little quirk was holding her
up. She knew that once she started letting Pappy use her vagina
as a cum dump, sooner or later, she'd miss a period. We were now
a church family, members of a church that frowned on murdering
unborn babies. They all thought she was so adorable without a big
belly. They'd think she was a slut like her mother with one. Just
when she was about to go over to Pappy with no panties on and get
herself pregnant, they threw that church monkey wrench in her
plans. Now, Dad couldn't wait to get her naked over his lap, and
Mom was telling her to fuck a dog. Sissy was very confused.
She wasn't the only one. I still hadn't figured this shit out.
Made no sense. Returning to church while opening up sexually.
Those things didn't go together, but the more we went to church,
the more sexually open we became. Each week added something new,
and the language improved daily. It wasn't just confessions,
although they paved the way.
Before we started going to church again, we didn't see Mom naked
very often. Even then, it was a fleeting glimpse, like when she'd
go from the bedroom to the bathroom, which was right across the
hall - quick side views that sometimes revealed cummy legs with
the authorized cummer snoozing on the couch. We saw a lot of bare
titties. She suns her titties and usually wears only her bottoms
or shorts. She has great titties, but you don't think much of
hooters if you see them a thousand times a year from birth on.
Puberty makes you take new interest and never lose it, but they
were no mystery. Pussy was the big mystery. I knew what it
smelled like and tasted like, but never got a good look at it. I
had seen it when she wore no panties, but not open, not wide
open. I wanted to see her whole pussy, the hole especially.
After the first confession, Jeff, John, and I saw a full frontal
when she came into the kitchen looking for a rubber band for her
hair as we ate breakfast. We saw front, rear, and both side views
- standing, bending, and squatting - tits, ass, pussy. She acted
as though she had something on while digging through all the
drawers. We were all like frozen zombies. I had a mouthful of
grits and was biting down on the fork. Jeff dropped his fork.
John choked on orange juice and sputtered some on the table. Mom
tossed him a rag on the way back to the bathroom where Sissy
waited to finish the shave. One cunt lip was shaved nice and
close. The other had stubble. You would think the rubber band
could wait, though we were glad it couldn't. What a sexy pussy. I
became a big fan of bald pussy that day. Sissy would look great
with a bald pussy. All I had to do was tell her that Happy Pappy
liked them bald. He probably did. He liked young pussy, the
younger the better. Young pussy is bald. She could make herself
look younger by getting that way.
After the second confession session, three days before the third,
I walked out on the patio and saw Mom in the nude feeding pussy
to Sugarbear. She was lying back on the lounger wearing dark
glasses, legs wide, totally relaxed, tits pointing straight up,
arms dangling, enjoying a deep licking of her freshly shaved
pussy, which could not have been better positioned for viewing
from the patio doors. I almost shit my pants. She knew I was home
from school playing sick. What was she thinking?
I wondered what she would do if I came out and pulled up a chair.
I watched for a while, then got brave and stepped out. I pulled
up a chair and sat at her hip overlooking her pussy and the long
tongue that kept going in like it was getting honey from the
bottom of a deep jar. I pet Sugarbear and scratched his ear while
staring her in the cunt. She pulled the glasses down further on
her nose to peer over the top rim, lifted her head, looked to me
and calmly said, "Pull up a chair and get comfortable, why don't
you?"
This was friendly sarcasm. I smiled and said, "I'm comfortable.
You sure look comfortable."
She pushed the glasses back and let her head back down, saying,
"Go ahead and watch if this turns you on, but if this turns you
on, I had better hear a confession on Sunday."
I didn't respond to that. I couldn't get over the fact that I had
her permission to watch and get turned on. I was turned on
without her permission, but having it was great. That meant I
didn't need to hide my erection, which meant I could adjust it,
so I did that. Much better.
This was great. I mean, this was fantastic - Mom's pussy, up
close, wide open with a mutt licking the hole - more like
tongue-fucking the hole. The show got better after I sat down and
formed the audience. She began responding with a slow rolling of
the pelvis. After a minute, she brought her right hand in to toy
with her clit. She stroked it, twirled it, did some light
rubbing. I wouldn't call it masturbating, but she was playing
with her pussy and headed there. That was neat to watch. The
audience loved it.
Nothing was said for several minutes, then without looking my
way, she said, "So, what did you think of your sister's
confession last Sunday?"
"Pretty neat. I didn't think she'd do it."
"Do you think she told everything?"
"I know she didn't."
"Why didn't you speak up?"
"I didn't think I could. You confess what you want to confess."
"True, but that's not like you - unless her confession would
involve you. Then again, if you were involved, we would have
heard about the sin from you when you confessed. I don't recall
you confessing anything of any interest at any confession. One
would think you were the perfect little angel. We know better
than that, don't we?"
I swallowed hard and wasn't sure what to say, but watching her
rub that clit real good made me say, "Come on, Mom, you're not
buying this confession crap, are you?"
Mom pulled her glasses down to look at me without lifting her
head, saying, "Brian, work with me...or do you like dreaming your
life away while skinning your hamster."
Her head returned to looking straight up as she reset her
glasses, waiting for me to understand what the fuck she meant by
that. When I said, "OHHH...right." She said, "Shall we start
over?"
I said, "Before we do, I want you to know that I take exception
to the term hamster, and skinning the hamster is a dumb metaphor
for male masturbation. You can only skin a hamster once."
"What metaphor do you prefer?"
"Swinging the bat."
She raised up to look at my bat, or the impression of batness,
then into my eyes to say, "And you think my metaphor was dumb.
I'd like to see you hit a fast ball with that bat."
"I just swing it. I didn't say I wanted to hit anything."
She smiled and settled, resumed playing with her pussy, and said,
"May we resume now, Babe Ruth?"
"Sure."
"You might want to get your bat out and start warming up your
swing."
No sooner said than done. When I had my dick in my hand, I said,
"Okay. All set."
"We'll take this from where you said, I know she didn't tell
everything. Ready?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you speak up? That isn't like you - unless her
confession would involve you. Then again, if you were involved,
we would have heard it from you when you confessed. I don't
recall you confessing anything of any interest. At least nothing
of a sexual nature. One would think you were the perfect little
angel - sexually. We know better than that, don't we, Brian?"
"Yes, we do, but I couldn't confess the truth."
"Why not? I do."
"I know you do. I wish I could."
"Brian, you can. We want you to get right with God and besaved."
"Yeah, me too."
"You must cleanse your soul weekly or be damned to suffer eternal
hell fires, torments, and tortures. You'll never get through the
pearly gates if you are too heavily soiled with earthly sins."
"That sucks."
"You can confess to anything, you know. No one can put you down
or punish you for what you have to say in order to save your
immortal soul. We must be supportive, no matter what it is.
That's why your father has to grin and bear it. You see how
supportive he is. I can be just as supportive for you. Come on,
Brian, you can make your confession to me. Tell me all you've
done, and tell me all of your wicked thoughts. And I'd like to
know the wicked thoughts you are thinking right now. Don't tell
me you're not. I have eyes. If you're not thinking about me,
you're thinking about your sexy sister. I want the truth. The
truth shall set you free. It might even make me cum."
I could see that. She was masturbating, now. I said, "I don't
know where to begin. There's so much to tell."
"Does any involve me?"
"Most of it involves you."
"Good, then tell me that first, from the beginning. I want your
first sexual thoughts of me, and go on from there. Go from the
first to the present. When you get to the present, start from
when you first saw me from the sliding glass door, and what made
you think you could join me. Tell me what you expect to see, or
want to see me do, or do to me. Be completely frank, open and
honest. Who knows, I just might let you do whatever it is you
would like to do, or see whatever you would like to see me do.
Okay, I'm ready. When was the first time I made your dick hard?"
"I was two. I was nursing on your sexy tits while some guy was
fucking you doggie style. I thought it would be great to switch
places with him, let him suck on your tits while I fucked you for
a while."
That got her going good. She cried out, "Oh god, I did that with
you! Don't tell me you remember that."
"I must. That came from somewhere."
"I guess you do remember. We did that quite a bit. Sissy's father
was very into fucking me while I nursed you. We carried on an
affair that lasted over a year."
"What do you mean, lasted over a year. You're still married to
him."
"Brian, I'm a whore. Your father didn't father any of you kids."
I didn't think he did, but I never would have brought the subject
up. I said, "Does he know?"
"Yes, he knows, and he likes seeing me get pregnant by other men.
Four was my limit. Actually, two was the limit. The third was
forced on me, and I didn't count on twins....So, I made you horny
at two! You poor boy. You wanted your mommy all these years. When
was the next time? I want a conscious memory of a time when you
wanted to fuck me."
"I guess I was six when I knew what fucking was and wanted to try
it with you. We were in church, right before we quit going. Your
whole pussy was showing with me beside you. I think Grandpa was
on your other side. Seems he sat next to you most of the time
back then."
"He did. That was his pussy and he liked seeing it during the
service. He fathered the twins. Go on."
Talk about dropping a bomb and moving on. I moved on and said,
"You showed it good that day, and I kept looking at it and
wishing I could put my hardon in it. Sure looked like it would
feel good."
She smiled and said, "It does feel good. Just ask your Grandpa.
He wants more of this good pussy. That's why this pussy is back
in the pews."
"Will it work?"
"Yes, he'll get some and he knows it, but I'm still angry with
him for dragging me back there. He'll get some when I'm good and
ready, but he won't get any before Sugarbear does."
"I guess he'll be getting some soon, then, won't he."
She looked to me and smiled, saying, "Very soon, but we're
jumping ahead. Tell me more."
I went on to tell her instance after instance when she inspired
motherfuckerhood in me. I told her all about my pantie sniffing
and dildo licking. I told her motherfucking fantasies up the ying
yang. I made her cum four times - well, me and Sugarbear. She
helped. Three orgasms wasted her; four destroyed her. She finally
got up and led Sugarbear out the gate. If he wasn't getting any,
I knew I wasn't. She took me by the hand and led me into the
house, putting me in a seat at the dining table while she fixed
us iced tea, explaining that she had too much sun, but not enough
son.
She thought that was very puny. I did too, berry puny. She set
the glasses down, sat, and took my hands in hers to say, "I'm
pooped. Will you take a rain check? I want our first time to be
very special, great, the best. I hate to make you wait after you
waited so long, but I really am sexually drained. I'd be a lousy
fuck."
"I doubt that, but I can wait ten or fifteen minutes."
She laughed and then kissed me. After the kiss, she held my face
in her hands with our noses touching, and said, "You are one sexy
fucking boy. Young man, I should say. Skip school tomorrow and
we'll make a day of it. Do we have a date?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?"
"Great, now, tell me what you and Sissy have been up to. Are you
fucking her?"
"No, nobody is."
"Are you sure?"
"She tells me everything. She would tell me if she did."
"I never knew you two were that close. What does she think of the
spankings we give her?"
"She likes them, but she admitted that."
"Yes, and that surprised us - that she would admit it. We knew
spanking turned her on. We also know you boys watch. You got an
eyeful last time, didn't you?"
"Boy, I'll say. Why haven't there been more like that the way she
wants them?"
"We're not sure exactly what she wants. We don't want to make any
wrong assumptions and blow it just as we got her to the point
where we can...I guess I can tell you...sexually molest her fully
and know that she wants that. I think you know what I mean by
fully."
"Cum in the pussy."
"Cum in the fertile pussy. Your Dad wants to knock her up. If she
doesn't know that, she hasn't been paying attention all these
years."
"She knows that, but you had better hurry. Someone else wants to
knock her up. She wants to give you guys first crack at it, but
she's tired of waiting when this other person is raring to go."
"That teacher she talked about?"
"No. You won't believe this. The guy across the street - Pappy."
That sat her back in her chair. She said, "WHAT! That old geezer!
She wants to fuck him?"
"He wants to fuck her, and the idea has been growing on her. Now,
that's all she thinks about. She'd like to give him all the pussy
he wants, be like a sex slave, do anything he wants, and she
knows he wants to knock her up. She was all set to let him when
this church thing sprang up out of nowhere. She knows how they
feel about abortions and she was counting on one."
"She won't get one. Her father wants her pregnant and wants to
see her go all the way with it. We'll put the baby up for
adoption, but there won't be any talk of abortion. You need to
let her know that. See if that cools her heels."
"It won't. She knows she might not get one if she gets pregnant
on purpose. She is still willing. She wants it that bad."
"Brian, is this guy safe? What I mean is, has he given any
indication that he might enjoy hurting her?"
"Now way. He is totally safe, a pussycat. He's just horny as hell
and loves them young. He wants to make her love it. He has this
notion that he can get her addicted to fucking if he can just get
her to give it a try. If she gets addicted, she'll let him knock
her up. She'll let him or she won't get no more. Sissy knows she
has to get pregnant if she wants to play with Pappy. She is
prepared to act addicted after her first dicking. She wants to
act like she is addicted to his sperm and has to have it. She
wanted to know if he'd buy that."
"Would he?"
"I doubt it. He's not an idiot, but I told her that he already
told me that some girls get addicted to sperm right off the bat.
When you get one of those, you can make them do tricks. She's an
idiot, but Pappy can act like one for her."
"Interesting. So, in your educated opinion, who would she rather
have do the dirty deed?"
"Probably Pappy, but I know she'd like Dad to be trying, too. I
think it would be a bigger turn on if Pappy knocked her up, but
Dad thought he did, or Dad knocked her up and Pappy thought he
did. To answer your question, no, it don't matter."
"He doesn't care who does. He just wants her pregnant. Actually,
this could work out quite well. I need to pay Pappy a visit and
let him know what a kinky mommy Sissy has."
I smiled big and said, "He knows you're a whore, and he knows
about Sugarbear. He knows you're kinky, and he knows you told
Sissy to take up nude gardening. He thinks that's great."
"Does he, now. Seems like Pappy has insider help on this project
of his."
I smiled the smile of the guilty. She smiled the smile of the
kinky amused, ruffled my hair, and said, "You little stinker.
Well, you did a good job on your innocent sister. Keep up the
good work. You two guys will have yourselves a fine little whore
to play with, and you'll have our complete support. If she
doesn't come crying to us about it, have at her, anything goes,
just keep us informed through confession and we'll remain
supportive. We must. God would be pissed if we don't."
"We sure don't want to piss him off."
"Fuck no. You don't want him pissed at you. I gave my daddy pussy
so God wouldn't be pissed at me. Fucking asshole. Not God, Daddy.
Hypocrite is what he is, and I hate hypocrites with a passion. If
he were just honest and told me I made him so fucking horny he
had to fuck me, I would have gladly fucked him. I would have been
to him what Sissy wants to be for Pappy. I think I know why she
wants to be that way for Pappy. He is honest, straightforward,
lets her know what he wants, and makes her feel sexy and desired.
It's hard for a girl to ignore a man like that, or a dog like
Sugarbear."
"So, you hate fucking your father?"
"No, I hate the head games he plays - the phoney shit wrapped in
biblical justification. You can take the Bible and use it to
support any idea you want. That's why we have so many different
churches with different philosophies, all using the same book as
justification. Their church is full of hypocrites. I fucked every
damn one of them just to prove it. There's not a dick in that
church over thirty that hasn't pumped sperm in my pussy, and
there aren't many cunts I haven't licked. There are some nasty
cunts in those pews, let me tell you."
"Your mother's."
"No, hers is very nice, and she is not one of the bad hypocrites.
She is basically very good, decent, and does believe in the
scriptures as preached in her church, but she will turn a blind
eye to child abuse, except when the child is licking her pussy.
Then, she'll watch it avidly. She does have that one weakness.
She can't say no to a soft tongue, but who can. That's not being
a hypocrite. That's being honest. Dad brought out the kinky in
her. She sins and confesses her sins, but she'll sin again if
given the opportunity. Part of getting back in God's good graces
is repentance and contrition. You can't keep doing it over and
over again. They don't like being reminded of that."
"The preacher didn't say anything about that."
"He won't ever. He wants those pews filled. If he starts raining
on their parade, they'll go sit in some other pews. Everyone
sins, but some can't carry the guilt around. The church goers
have a sin lifter. His message was do whatever you want to do,
even the things you fantasize doing, God will forgive you."
"That was the message I got."
"That was the message you were intended to get. They love getting
that message. Keeps them coming back for more, and in every
household that practices weekly confession sessions, those people
are acting on their fantasies, making confession, and giving
others ideas. They are doing exactly what we're doing, and what
we're doing will always lead to sex among family members. When I
explained this to your father, he was all for family confession
night. He even likes going to church, now. I should have thought
of this years ago, but I never dreamed he'd want to hear about my
indiscretions in front of you kids. I always thought I had to
keep a low profile because of you kids. Turns out, he loves that
shit. I can't get nasty enough for him."
"Or us."
"I figured you kids would get a big kick out of my dirty deeds.
It's not like you didn't know your mother was a whore who ate
pussy and fucked dogs. I kept a low profile in front of him when
you kids were around, but I never tried to hide what I was from
you kids. Kids have a right to know if their mother is a whore."
"We never knew you fucked dogs."
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
"No, in fact I did think you fucked Sugarbear. I doubt the others
did. They were surprised to learn that you thought about fucking
him, and even more surprised that you would admit it. I was
surprised to learn that you hadn't."
"You know me better than they do, then. If he wasn't such a good
licker, I would have fucked him by now, but you see what happens.
I never get around to it with him."
"How many dogs did you get around to it with?"
"Dozens, and your Grandpa was the first to breed me like a bitch
at the age of seven."
"SEVEN!"
"Seven - tender, innocent, filled with the terror of Hell and
fear of a vengeful God, a vain God, a jealous God who demanded
worship and obedience to his commandments, one of which was honor
they father and mother, which translated to mean, blindly obey no
matter what. To avoid Hell, I would do anything. He confessed
that sin at the dinner table, and Mom just about shit herself. It
was all she could do to sit and listen to him tell all about it
in every disgusting detail, then act supportive and not criticize
what he had done to me. She really was devastated, torn between
God and a dear daughter, with a sacred vow to love, honor, and
obey her sick husband, who she know knew was a deviant child
molester, the worst she could possibly imagine. How any man could
take a seven-year-old child and breed her like a bitch to an
animal was outside her powers of reason or imagination, but a
father who could do that to his own daughter was himself an
animal. Here she was married to this animal and powerless to do
anything about it."
"You mean she never stopped him?"
"She couldn't. Her duty was to lend support. Anything that comes
out in confession you have to suck it up and try to live with,
because it'll happen again and again. There is nothing to stop
it, not if the person likes doing it, and he made it very clear
that he loved breeding me like a bitch. If she actually caught
him in the act, she could raise holy hell, but not if he
confessed to having done it. She eventually did catch him in the
act, but by that time, she was numb to it. I was nine and a good
bitch by then. She had to be dying to see it, so the first
opportunity, she sat and watched."
"Wow, that's hard to imagine from her."
"Not for me. On Sunday, she confessed that sin. She confessed to
being turned on by it, and confessed to wanting to know whenever
he bred me in the future. She got her wish and must have told
someone, because right after that, everyone seemed to know and
wanted to watch and get their dogs bred. From then on, I was a
bitch, but a lot of girls had it much worse than me. At least my
parents weren't physically abusive. Some of those girls lived in
Hell. I became a whore and grew to love everything they did, but
still hated hypocrites."
"How old were you when he first fucked you?"
"Nine. He was too big for me until I turned nine and had been
loosened up enough. Prior to that, I sucked on the head of his
dick while he jacked off into my mouth. He was doing that while
the first dog screwed me, which totally blew Mom away. How any
man could be that perverse was beyond her, but she eventually got
to where she could watch me eat her pussy while getting fucked by
a mutt, or while Dad fucked me. After the age of nine, they
molested me together and sometimes had friends join them, or
loaned me out. They even rented me and leased me. Any rental over
one week in duration I considered a lease. During summer months,
I was leased out quite a bit to perverts from outside the
church."
"Didn't you ever get pregnant?"
"Four times, all carried to term, all given up for adoption. That
was why four for your father was way over my limit. He'll have to
get the rest out of Sissy. By the way, I am not the reason we are
back in church. Sissy is. They want that sexy bitch. I have
fought this for years, but she is now old enough. If she proves
willing enough, I'll allow it. She'll enjoy herself if she gets
off to a good start. She already has. She shows every positive
sign, and her eagerness to get it on with Sugarbear put my mind
at ease. She'll make a good bitch and be happy that way. She
might be one of the rare ones who remain after they are free to
go."
"Why did you remain?"
"I didn't. I married the first offer. I was dragged back the
first time. At that time, both me and your father worked for Dad
and barely eked out a living. He paid us below minimum wage, in
cash. Together, working ten-hour days, six days a week, we earned
less than your father now makes working forty hours a week, but
that was the only work there was. We had nothing and couldn't
draw unemployment because he paid us under the table. He was
awful, a real tyrant. He kept us poor, deep in debt, and without
recourse. Once he had us locked in tight, he bred me to a huge
black man with a three-dollar dick, the only three-dollar dick I
ever saw or seen since. He hired him because he had a
three-dollar dick and he was told he could fuck me all he wanted
to."
"What is a three-dollar dick?"
"I thought you might ask, slugger. If you line quarters along a
stiff dick, you get a measure of size. He could line twelve
quarters on his dick. Your father has eight inches and can only
line up seven, but that seventh one teeters. Buck's twelth was
solid with room for a dime. He actually had a three-dollar and
ten cent dick, and used it on me whenever he felt like it, often
just to stick it in me for a while. I wore no panties so that he
could."
"Did you like it?"
"I got to where I did. What I didn't like was being bred to him.
The purpose was to get me pregnant with a black man's bastard.
The plan failed because Daddy couldn't keep his dick out of me. I
took a gallon of Bucks semen to every teaspoon of Dad's, but
Dad's won. I was sure those babies would be black. After I saw
they weren't, I wished they were."
"Couldn't they have been Dad's?"
"No. Your Dad wears rubbers. I made him wear rubbers after
discovering that wearing them while all other men get to cum in
my pussy turned him on. He would never admit that. I had to
figure that out for myself. He loves wearing rubbers when fucking
me. I make him wear them even if I have a cummy pussy. He whines
about if for show, but his dick gets hard as steel. While Grandpa
was breeding me to Buck, your Dad was in seventh heaven, and your
Grandpa thought he was putting him through hell having to work
alongside Buck and see what that big buck nigger named Buck was
doing to me. He saw most of it because Buck wanted him to see.
Buck used me like a white-trash whore and I had to act like one.
After a while, it was no act. I'd go looking for Buck, strip
naked, and beg him to fuck me with my legs spread wide. Your Dad
loves seeing me beg for sperm, and seeing me beg a black man for
sperm was his golden era."
"Sounds neat."
"It was. You talk about Sissy wanted to act addicted. I had your
father convinced that I was addicted to Buck's sperm. I had Buck
and Daddy convinced, too. I beg for sperm like a strung-out
junkie needing a fix, and when I get my fix, I get high and lie
there with a spent dick in my pussy like a junkie with an empty
syringe sticking in her arm. I did most of my fucking on feed
sacks in the middle of a crowd of men with your daddy and my
daddy in the crowd. Buck wasn't the only man I fucked, but Dad
only allowed the blacks. I sucked all others."
"Damn! Talk about sexual harassment in the work place."
"Dad was pimping my ass out of his feed store and making a
killing. The bastard even docked your father's pay for any blow
jobs he got. I even had to report any sex he got off the job, and
I did. Your father couldn't afford me, but he never once
suggested that we cheat and not tell. He just whined about my
father using me as a whore and the fact that he couldn't even
afford a damn blow job off his own wife. That was his golden era.
I was very sympathetic, but I never gave anything away, not while
I was my father's whore. Any money I made on the side, I gave to
your father to give to Dad. He never stole any of that money. The
best part of all that was seeing me beg for sperm. He will never
get over that, and still believes to this day that at one time, I
did develop an addiction. He's not an idiot; I am that good."
"I'd love to see you beg for mine."
"You will, but right now, how would you like to see me beg Pappy
for some? I need something good for confession."
"Oh, man, Sissy would shit if you fucked Pappy."
"Let's make her shit."
Pappy was one nervous old pervert when I showed up on his
doorstep with my Mom, but she handled him like a pro. I could
tell you about it, but I would rather you hear what Sissy heard
when Mom confessed. Sissy was all primed for this session. This
was her first no-underwear day. She had been expecting the new
type of spankings everyday that week and didn't get one, not even
the old kind when three or four a week was normal. She needed it
bad. She was all primed for her confession, but was also eager to
hear Mom's. Sissy and the twins were most eager to find out if
she fucked Sugarbear. She did, and got that out of the way right
off. That set the tone for her Pappy story.
She began, "I also fucked that old man who lives across from us -
Pappy. [Sissy's jaw fell open] He has had his eye on me for
years, but it's mostly young stuff he craves, Sissy in
particular. [Sissy looked like a zombie] He went on and on and on
about Sissy, about what a sexy doll she is. He wanted to know all
about her. He was especially interested in her pussy.
Fortunately, I knew it well from all the spanking. I gave him a
good description. That only made him want her more. I really felt
for the guy. I never knew a man to want a girl that bad. I
confess, I encouraged him to go for it and gave him tips on how
to go about it. I told him if he could win her over he could do
as he pleases with her. Naturally, he wanted to know if it was
all right to cum in her pussy. I said, sure, if she'll let you. I
then told him the best way to go about getting a girl to take cum
in the pussy, even at the worst time of the month.
"He has this thing about sperm addiction, something he read
somewhere, and was wondering if Sissy might possibly be that
type. As you know, I actually experienced sperm addiction. [Sissy
sat fascinated, hanging on every word] I told him all about my
experience, which supported what he had read. I told him the
trait is genetic, and Sissy is very likely one. I explained the
signs to look for and ways to bring on the addiction rather
quickly. He took notes. He was fascinated, so excited, and was
sure he could get her hooked solid in no time. I assured him he
could if he worked at it. Some take longer than others, but give
a junkie enough dope, she'll get addicted and have to have it.
After that, she'll do anything to get it."
Sissy was buying this bullshit like horny spinster at a dildo
sale. Dad had no doubt, and the twins could relate to sperm
addiction. Yeah, that could happen. Fucking idiots. The main this
is Sissy bought it. Mom did all her talking to Dad as though
Sissy weren't there. She just sat there with her mouth part open,
totally mesmerized by every word Mom spoke. She couldn't believe
Mom was all for her getting addicted, and totally on Pappy's
side, coaching him, tutoring him, assuring him - assuring him
that once he got her good and hooked, she'd do anything. She told
a child molester that she would do anything, then never laid down
any rules, limits, guidelines, nothing any mother would do. This
blew Sissy's mind.
Mom went on, "Over and over he asked if there was anything a cum
junkie won't do to get cum. What he really wanted to ask was is
there anything a cum junkie's mother won't allow done. I finally
stopped him and told him that he could get Sissy hooked on cum,
what she had to do to get her fix was between her and her
supplier. I would not get between a junkie and her fix. If
anything, I would do all I could to help her get her fix. He
could see that I was dead serious about that. He wanted me to
promise to keep her fertile and unprotected for him. I gave him
my word, our word, John. I took the liberty of speaking for you.
I know that's a sin, but I am confessing that sin. We have to
honor my pledge."
I thought Sissy would cum in her seat. She looked to Dad as he
said, "If we must, we must. Did you make him any otherpromises?"
Sissy's wide eyes shot back to Mom, hoping there were other
promises. Mom said, "Yes, several. I promised we would send her
over right after confession, and he could keep her for
twenty-four hours. She can skip school on Monday. I promised him
she would strip naked and stay that way. I promised him that she
would allow him to try the techniques I showed him. I promised
him that if she gave him any trouble, we'd come over and spank
her until she behaved herself. I couldn't promise him, but I
assured him that she would be a good whore after this twenty-four
hour break-in period. He was very pleased with my assurance, but
wanted to know if we would recognize that she is his whore,
first, and our daughter, second. He wanted to know if he could
fuck her anytime he wanted. I said, of course. She'll be your
whore. You can come over at any time and fuck her in her own bed.
Fuck her at the dinner table if you like."
Sissy could not stay out of this any longer and cried, "Mom, are
you serious! You told him that?"
"Yes, I did. I'm sorry, Sissy, but I sold you down the river for
a good fuck. God forgives me. I hope you can. Anyway, what's done
is done. In the heat of passion, I made promises that I can't go
back on. I hope you won't be difficult. It won't do any good to
fight this. He'll win, because we will see that he wins. Resign
yourself to it and go over there with the proper attitude. When
you go to him, go as a whore and offer him your womb."
"Do you mean tell him he can fuck me and cum inside my pussy all
he wants to?"
"Yes. Will you do that?"
"Well, if I have to."
"You don't have to, but we want you to. We can make you if we
have to. We shouldn't have to. Remember the commandment to honor
your father and mother. That's God talking. We are your parents,
and I made our position quite clear. Now, will you obey us?"
"Yes, I'll obey. Do you want me to go right now. I have nothing
to confess except more fucking myself, a lot more, but it's
pretty much the same as last week. I just did a lot more of it
and used more stuff, all kinds of stuff, even your dildos.
Sorry."
"Then that's your confession. With your father's permission, you
may go."
Dad told her to go. She got up and went. She didn't even stop to
get her toothbrush. She missed the best part of Mom's confession
when she confessed to fucking me all day on Friday - me and
Sugarbear.
Life doesn't get much sweeter, but it did when Sissy became the
church bitch and moved in with Grandma and Grandpa and began
working at the feed store as a feed store whore. Pappy petered
out on her after a few weeks. He couldn't take anymore. She
needed the kind of action that Grandpa could provide. That was
one happy bitch. She absolutely loved her work, loved the church.
The church loved her. All was right in the kingdom. As for me,
motherfucker suited me just fine. Dad now wears rubbers to fuck
in my slop. Life doesn't get any sweeter than that.
The End
Read other stories by the same author by visiting Phantom Base at
HTTP://PhilPhantom.Com
CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in
unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid,
even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving
large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion,
bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are
offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation.
Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are
because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex
with minors should be left to other minors. PP