Insider Nowledge

This is my submission for Halloween. It contents strong, violent content, and an incest theme. If this is not your cup of tea please move on.

To those of you who stick around, I hope you enjoy it, and please remember to vote! Its what make this story count.

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A long lean leg slipped from beneath the covers and dipped towards the floor. In the moonlight, a pair of eyes fluttered open. "Like what you see?"

"Yes, actually," a voice in the doorway growled in response.

The young woman in the bed shot upright, her brow suddenly furrowing and her mind quickly shaking off the semblance of sleep. Her breathing was rapid and the hairs on the base of her neck pricked. Her eyes searched the room, seeking some sign of the voice.

"Just a dream," she whispered to herself in the darkness, "just a bad dream." Frustrated she dropped her head back to the pillow, trying to clear the eerie echo of a not so distant past.

It had been three years since she had been back here, sleeping in this bed. Time did not seem to have changed the place, despite the many changes that had occurred within it. All of the things were right where they had been, and their existence brought back a tumble of memories. It had taken her a long time to return- too much personal baggage was clustered away in the old farmhouse. Too much history. Trying to coax herself back to sleep she focused on her fiancée's arrival the following day. Allen would be here, and things wouldn't be so strange, she persisted.

Finally as a cloud drifted in front a brightly hung harvest moon her eyelids drooped and her heartbeat slowed, just enough to send her into dreamland.

The next morning, Sara awoke with a start. The sound of doors slamming and voices outside the old frosted window pane drew her from her slumber and for the second time in several hours she was up. It took her a moment to recollect where she was, why she was there, and who it was that should be arriving.

A smile slipped over her weary lips and she reached for a long familiar t-shirt she kept in the nightstand beside her bed. Years had passed since she had last worn it- but she remembered exactly where she had kept it. It bothered her that it was not where she had left it, where she always left it; in that top drawer. It was where it belonged. Everything else in the room was in order and seemingly unchanged. Why would the t-shirt have been removed? A first set of raps upon the downstairs kitchen door told her that she needed to be on the move.

Her graceful body whipped away the covers and dove for the nearest closet. Inside, long since dusted shelves housed various sweaters and clothing articles and Sara wasted no time in selecting a big hoodie and darting downstairs.

The moment she hit the ground floor she regretted the selection of outfit. Her pale thighs were on proud display for what she thought would be her other half, and not for the middle aged woman he had standing behind him. Blushing furiously, she turned the door handle and tried to pretend nothing was out of place as she let them in.

An apologetic glance from Allen and she felt a little better, but not much.

With one hand tugging down the hem of her top she reached for the guests hand and introduced herself.

"I'm Sara."

"I'm Louise. I had spoken with you on the phone- I'm representing the estate," the attractive older woman offered helpfully. "Sorry to intrude. I just knew you were out today and thought we should get an early start on the chronicling."

"Of course, forgive me, I just wasn't expecting anyone for a few hours. My bad," Sara replied. Allen had moved to stand by her side and his hand had coyly slipped to her lower back and was gently rubbing above the edge of the thick cotton material.

Sara wanted to slap his hand away but knew doing so would give away her panty-less state and expose more than was required to the attorney.

"I'm going to run upstairs and put some clothes on and than I will be back down and we can discuss what needs to be done," Sara said quickly, not wanting to allow silence to linger in the stale air. Somehow taking charge of the situation made her feel more secure in being bare assed as she darted back the way she had descended. She could almost certainly feel Allen's eyes boring into the shapely curves of her assets as she skipped.

She went straight to her closet once more and in moments had located a pair of jeans from her days at home. A few seconds later, she was clothed and on her way back downstairs.

Allen and the attorney were amicably chatting in the family room about the weather or something banal. Both turned to look at her as she rejoined the discussion. Louise, apparently not wanting to stay overly long, moved the conversation to business.

"We need to focus on sorting out what is an asset and what is personal. The purpose of the visit is to pack and arrange the two categories so that the liquidation of your parent's property goes smoothly and you don't lose anything with emotional value. I prefer to focus on major rooms- kitchens, bathrooms, family and dining areas, so as to avoid running into those items which have importance to the bereaved. I can price and detail the status of a television better than I can an antique watch that belonged to an ancestor. If you and Allen would like to focus on the upstairs I can work down here."

The voice didn't have so much as a bit of questioning in the tone. It was a directive plain and simple. Sara knew that she had been the reason for the long delay in reaching this point anyways, but she didn't like being told what to do in what was rightfully her home.

"Sounds good," Allen chirpily answered, being too eager to agree with Louise for Sara's taste.

She gave a polite nod and for the second time that day headed back upstairs. Allen's thudding footfalls echoed behind her. She headed first for her room, wanting to focus on packing up her belongings before she meandered into her family's space. Somewhere inside of her she knew it would be difficult and she wanted to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Allen was meandering around the room a bit, peaking at pictures and exploring the childhood of his fiancee with his eyes. It annoyed Sara a bit but she kept her mouth shut. The sound of a drawer opening behind her caused her to turn back towards him.

"Oolala!" Allen was holding up a very scanty pair of thong panties and matching bustierre.

"Give me that," Sara hissed. No sooner had the black set been tossed across the room to her, Allen reemerged from her bottom nightstand drawer with another set. Once more she was subjected to his catcall and whistle.

Sara studied the undies. She had taken most of her grown up life with her when she had moved out. Her main focus had been on abandoning her childhood home and stepping out into her own world. She didn't remember the underwear set and certainly didn't remember leaving them.

"You're such a perv," she taunted Allen and tossed him back the underwear. "Just lay the stuff worth keeping out on the bed. And try not to steal any," she mockingly groaned.

Allen seemed to get busy with the underwear again, so Sara went back to work on the closet. From the top shelf she pulled some old shoe boxes and set them in a stack on the floor. Old sweaters and boxes of school items that belonged to she and her sister followed. Once everything from the top shelf was down she went about removing their clothes. Anna's side went first- or at least what she had thought was Anna's side went first.

As she took down her sister's clothing she realized that it was all her clothing. Confused, she looked to her side of the closet and found that Anna's stuff occupied what had been hers. Anna must have switched sides sometime after she had moved out, Sara decided. It seemed strange but wasn't a big deal. Moving on to the bottom of the closet she found that the same was true of her sister's shoes. Everything was neatly switched and rearranged. Sara's stuff on the right hand wrong side and Anna's on the left hand side.

She gave Allen a little warning shout, "Don't get too many ideas about the undies. They aren't even mine. Anna switched sides sometime after I left."

"Your little sister wore some sexy stuff. And look what else I found."

"Shut up pervert. Don't even begin to think about my sister that way," she said as she turned to look back his direction. A metal ring gag and pair of fuzzy handcuffs dangled from his hand.

"What the hell would she need with those," Sara puzzled. "She was only eighteen and as far as I could tell never had a boyfriend." Sara was beginning to see why trying to catalog and organize everything personal for her family could be hard. You would learn a lot that you maybe didn't see or understand. "Put 'em in the trash pile, hon," she stated.

As she turned back to the pile of stuff she had on the floor she failed to hear Allen slip from the bed and approach her. The ball gag slipped over her head quickly and between her lips. Growling she turned to give Allen an angry look as he tried to stymie her efforts to evade him. Once the small leather band had been latched into place he stood back to look at her with obvious pride. Sara just pivoted and glared at him. Her frustration eased a little when she saw him reach for the door and push it shut softly.

Allen was such a horny dog, she decided as she realized that his jeans were well tented at the crotch and he was hoping for some quick action. He fiddled for a moment with his belt buckle and then his button and zipper. His long slender member popped free with obvious excitement.

"Awan ooo aw suck ah pewvet," she managed as he slipped a hand around her ponytail and gently tugged her towards his cock. She loved her man and she loved how much he wanted her and was happy to comply with his desires.

One of her hands reached up and encircled the base of his cock and bent it down towards the metal ring that now framed her mouth open. Aaron's first stab bumped into the ring and rebounded out, but the second one didn't miss. Sara found her tongue pushed to the bottom of her mouth as Allen's penis pushed in. She loved giving him blowjobs because of how much he enjoyed them. Already a loud groan was rumbling through his muscular chest as he gently threaded his rod into her throat.

"Fuck babe, you looked so damn good in your sweater this morning," he complimented. Sara would have smirked had her mouth not already been stretched so greatly, but she gave him a nice humming response. She was rewarded with a harder thrust to the back of her throat. He was very aroused and she could taste the sweaty flavor of his precum as it dribbled out his tip and lubricated her mouth.

Sara's free hand cupped his sack and gently rolled his testes over her fingers. Her head was bobbing rapidly, eager to finish him off, and not prolong the sexual encounter longer than need be. She could feel some moisture building between her own thighs and knew that is she went too long she would need immediate relief and with another guest in the home she didn't want to risk it.

With a drawn out and pronounced slurp on the tip of his prick, she felt the familiar pulse in the base of his shaft. Several sprays of cum quickly fluttered down the back of her mouth. Allen thrust forward burying his penis in her throat and causing her to gag on the intrusion. Still more of his fluids poured into her stomach as he finished off his orgasm.

"You are the best cocksucker, baby," he groaned as he pulled his cock from her lips. "I think we'll need to get one of these things for home," he added as he freed the metal ring from her mouth.

"We can just take this one," Sara said with a sly grin as she wiped a little dribble of his semen from her lips. "You seemed to enjoy it enough. Now get your pants back on and get back to work."

The rest of the packing was rather uneventful. It took a few more hours to get everything boxed, sorted, and moved downstairs. Louise had finished with the larger rooms and had documented all the larger furniture pieces and some short descriptions of the items that would have some value. All that remained were the upstairs den and her parents' room. She knew this would be most challenging. Louise was in she and her sister's old room documenting and photographing furniture or items that would be sold at auction.

Allen was moving out clothing, shoes, and other miscellaneous items from the room. The day had passed quickly by and he was looking rather tired. The last inklings of sunlight were beginning to disappear in the horizon and the sky was darkening up. The sun was just beginning to set on the last day of October and she could tell that he was eager to be done with this stage in their life together.

They had started dating after an encounter at a Halloween party in their sophomore year at college and the year prior they had gone home on their one year anniversary to break the news of their engagement to their friends and family. The pair had arranged a big costume bash for the evening to try and make the announcement a little more fun and celebrate the occasion in a more unique way. After the party was over they had made the long drive back to campus. It was two weeks before anyone realized something was wrong.

A tear formed in Sara's eye as she scanned the den. As children it had been one of she and her sister's favorite places. The old farmhouse had seemed to pack all its odd twists and spaces into one room and there was plenty of storage and odd breaks in the line of the ceilings. It was a place of "character" her father had told them. It had also been one of his favorite rooms. They had spent countless hours cavorting and playing and teasing him as he tried to work. He had just laughed it all off. She would never have guessed the ending to the story so many years later.

Slowly she began to pull one book after another off the shelves, storing them in boxes based on category and age. Professional, legal, medical, fiction, and non-fiction quickly filled with familiar titles and well worn covers. A thin layer of dust swirled through the small room from some small gap in the window or wall. The more she cleared the more dust danced. Soon it seemed as if the room was filled with a smog of the stuff and she moved to the window and pushed its creaking latch from its place and let the air in the room escape.

It looked so bare and skeletal without the familiar mish mash that had accumulated there. Each item had seemed to bring back some fond memory of her childhood. Forcing a smile onto her face she turned back into the room. As she walked back towards her father's desk she saw a puff of dust explode from a split floorboard. It was thick and rose high in the air before breaking out into a wider cloud and beginning to settle.

For a second it seemed as if it had echoed the silhouette of a young woman, but Sara tried to shrug off the thought. But the dust was strange and the half inch gab in the floorboard was even stranger. Her father had been careful to craft the hardwood floors from lumber cut on their land. He was most proud of that achievement and had always warned them against wearing their shoes on the precious flooring.

Slowly Sara crouched and peered into the black space beneath it. Something seemed to glitter in the darkness. Her small fingertips dug at the gap prying back the floorboard and unveiling a small chamber between the ceiling of the bottom floor and the den. Inside a small five by five box waited, its hammered copper taking an on ethereal glow in the reflection of the overhead light.

Age had turned the metal to a blending of greens and orangey red tones that seemed to swirl across its patterned surface. A small simple post latch on the front of it pinned a simple lid shut. Cautiously the young woman reached into the chamber her delicate fingers wrapping around the little curiosity and pulling it from the coffin it had been entombed in.

Sara found herself rising in a stupor and moving to her childhood bedroom. She closed the door behind her, wanting some privacy with this thing that had been hidden. Perhaps it would answer the million questions that her father's suicide and mother and sister's disappearance had left. It seemed to tremble in her hands as she settled onto her bed with a slight rustle and squeak. She felt dizzy, woozy even as her fingers slowly pulled the pin free.

Taking a deep breath she slipped a well manicured nail into the lip of the box and tried to pry it open. Instead the nail snapped and the lid staid shut. It did not seem like it would hold that well; but she gave it another try with the metal pin. Begrudgingly the tiny box separated from its cap and revealed its secrets.

Inside the box were a stack of Polaroid pictures.

The first one brought a flood of happiness and relief to the young woman. It was a picture of her at her first varsity cheer practice in high school. She remembered when her father had taken it. She had been so proud to have made the team, and so embarrassed by her father showing up early to snap pictures with his extremely dated camera. The next photo was one of her as she prepared to leave for her junior homecoming.

Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she thumbed through this catalog of her youth. It answered no questions but confirmed her belief in her father's innocence of any wrongdoing. Each picture contained a precious memory of her youth of her growing up, of her ascension to adulthood. Her browsing would stop on the picture of her at the engagement party only a year ago. Sara saw herself with a huge smile, her left hand upraised for a crowd of female relatives, displaying a huge ring.

Her indicative bride "costume" seemed to light up the faded colors of the picture. Her sister's Gothic witch costumed was a black and bleak contrast to hers. It was the one thing that spoiled the photo for her. Her sister stared back up into the camera, her eyes squinted in anger and her posture tensed and stiff. Sara didn't remember her being angry, but the picture could not lie. The Anna in the picture was furious. Her eyes could not part with the piercing gaze of her sister as she slowly lowered the picture to the ground.

The next photo would seal the uneasy feeling that had been born from its predecessor. It was an image, a portrait, of her sister in the den. It was not so much the who and the where, but what she was wearing. It was Sara's bridal gown costume. The white of the gown glowed beneath the harsh flash of the primitive camera. Her sister was leaning over the desk, her head and shoulders tossed back and an obviously sensual look on her face.

Sara tossed it aside quickly, only to discover that the next photograph and the one after it were no better. Slowly Sara watched in horror as her younger sister stripped from the gown. Beneath it, the same white corset and lingerie she had purchased for the occasion was fitted tightly to her sister's petite form. It had always been impossible to tell the difference between the two and only the three year separation in age had allowed for any type of guesswork.

Sara would have almost thought it was her captured in the picture, breasts up thrust and legs parted wide in front of the window. In each picture her sister's eyes stared out at her, conveying so many emotions and desires.

The next photo showed Anna running her hands over her body, her eyes shut and lips pursed. The next was of one hand slipping between the corset and the lip of her panties. Progressively each photo became more and more lewd, until Anna masturbated furiously atop their father's desk. Sara threw them each aside with increasing terror and speed, her mind wishing it could abandon the race to the end of the story but her curiosity getting the better of her.