Message-ID: <18790eli$9901220032@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: yngfox@aol.com (YngFox) Subject: Inbred Family--Young Fox Story Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19990102001253.13844.00005866@ng-fb2.aol.com> This is only a teaser for my collection of incest stories archived at MrDouble. Come by for a visit! http://www.mrdouble.com/htm/authors/youngfox.htm There was something terribly wrong with Monica. It was between her legs. Her father walked with her, hand in hand, to the end of the pier. They sat down. Monica squirmed, her heart pounding. "Go ahead," her father said, after looking around. There was a sailboat quite a ways out. Monica unzipped his pants, loosened his belt. She bent her head down. "You little strumpet," he whispered. "I can't help it Daddy," she complained, reluctant to talk the talk again. He was right, she was wrong. But her predicament was as much his doing as hers. "Does your mother know?" he asked, stroking her red hair. Unlike his blonde daughter's hair, this one's was like straw, chafing and tickling his fingers. The blonde daughter was younger still, and he'd so far not touched her. Not this way. "I'm sure she does," Monica allowed, lifting her sad haunted chartreuse eyes. "She looks at me with a sneer, Daddy." "Monica, now that we are this way, call me by my name." "Alright....Jack," she said. "Why am I like this Daddy...Jack? Is this normal?" "For you, yes. Your mother was the same way," Jack sighed, tousling her hair some more. Her lips enveloped his member. He kept calling his wife "your mother" as if afraid to name her, as if a naming would solidify her and make her present, and allow her to condemn them. "Your mother" meant Julianna, a woman of only 22. Jack had impregnated her before she was ready to bear a child. She was eleven, and her water broke the day after she turned twelve. Their parents were angry, perplexed, judgmental. And then resigned. After Julianna had Monica a period of some months passed with the mother ensconced in her bedroom, her narrow bed now next to a crib. Eventually Jack crept back into his sister's room and they slept together. Jack tried manfully to follow his father's advice, fucking his sister in the ass. But Julianna kept snapping his just about to erupt dick out of her butt and sticking it into her cunt, so often that try as he might, Jack finally lost the gambit and squirted her again. Immediately she was pregnant. Immediately: it was only seconds before they both sensed his seed has met hers. The second baby was the last straw for their parents. "You are children of Satan," their mother had declared, her eyes vermilion with gin. Their father, a man after all, was visibly erect when the woman he called Princess spat these drunken words. He could not take his eyes off his daughter's milk-stained shirt. Only twelve, Julianna had hard oval nipples rampant and pourous. When she'd birthed, the nurses hadn't needed to shave her; pregnant again, she was barely nubile it seemed. Her hips were slender, legs skinny, only her swollen taut tummy belied her condition. "Satan?" her father had repeated, querulous. His wife, his sister, complaining about incest in the family? How absurd. But Cecily had found religion and the bottle both, when she was approaching the mid-span of her life. Gregory had found the bottle too, but thus far lacked the will to believe. When Cecily kicked the kids out, Gregory gave them the keys to his cabin, and a Buick Special. He gave his son an envelope with $5,000 and helped load up bags of rice, potatoes, beans, flour, dried beef, tuna fish, powdered milk--a veritable survivor's supply. "Take this gun," Gregory told Jack. "And this rifle, to hunt." "Dad, I can fish too," Jack had said. As they shook hands outside the house, father and son, Julianna fitted their father's fishing rods into the trunk. Her belly was alarming, for a girl only five months on. Milk ran down her shirt. She'd hardly paused between pregnancies. "Son, how big are you?" Gregory asked, clamping a hand on his son's shoulder. "I dunno, about ten inches maybe." "No wonder!" Gregory lit a cigarette. "You must get that from something way back, because most of the men are more like six. I can understand your sister better now that you tell me that." Gregory offered Jack a smoke. He took it. The boy was husky. "All I want to do is fuck," Jack said, exhaling. "You'll need to get some book learning, boy. Princess ain't too smart, son. You'll need to support her." Jack got in the car and started the engine. It was a run down old car, and smoked plumed out the exhaust. They drove down the lane to the highway and pushing 50 all the way went to the cabin. Four months later, Alice was born. -------- Like this story? It's just a beginning. See more of my stories at www.MrDouble.com -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----