Breaing in Her Naive Nephew

Disclaimer: This story features themes of incest, age gaps, forceful seduction, dubious consent, and worse. In addition, this chapter has a strong theme of religious irreverence. If you're more devout than you are horny, this is not the story for you.

**************

Clif was distracted.

That in itself was not shocking. You would be hard pressed to find anyone in the throng of Sunday-morning worshippers who

was

paying attention.

It couldn't be his sisters down the row distracting him. Four perfect carbon copies of their mom, each with their heads bowed in reverence. Perfectly attentive to the glow from the phones hidden in their laps.

It couldn't be his father to his right, who was barely conscious. Occasionally drifting off. His head falling onto Clif's shoulder, only to snap upright with an audible snort and confused murmur.

It wasn't even his dear mother

Grace

, sitting to his left and practically glued to his side. Clif had long since learned to ignore her aggravating habit of nudging him along with each of the preacher's ponderous pronouncements.

No. Clif was distracted by

her

.

Who?

"Some skank", his sisters would say.

"A little filly", his dad would chuckle.

"A

whore

", his mother would hiss.

"The Temptress!" the priest would proclaim, "A harlot and a wayward sinner! Heiress of the cult prostitutes of Israel!"

But Clif just called her "Aunt Alexis", or, since he'd earned it, "Sexy Lexi."

Or, when she forced him to, "Mommy."

Clif wasn't distracted in the sense of daydreaming -longing for her- though he often did. Nor was he distracted because Lexi was present. Indeed, she would be the first to admit that she might burst into flame merely walking through the doors of a proper church.

No, Clif was distracted in a very practical sense. He was trying to play it cool. Trying to keep a straight face. Trying not to squirm too much in his Sunday slacks. Why?

Because the neon-blue string of Lexi's thong was tied tight as a noose around the base of his cock.

***

"It's not like you have to wear them",

Lexi had giggled over the phone, the night before,

"You just need to, like, tie them like a ribbon."

"But why? It's weird."

he said.

"It's fun",

she'd replied, voice dancing with the light-hearted flirting she used to get whatever she wanted,

"do it for me."

"I don't know"

, he had hedged,

"Isn't that kinda messed up? It's church."

"It's a special tradition"

, she had said,

"especially in a church. It shows... devotion."

"I don't think-"

, he'd begun, before she cut him off.

"-be a good boy"

, she said, voice deepening. Hardening. To a tone of seductive command that had him rock-hard in an instant,

"and tie them for me. And prove it to me. And Mommy will show you

everything

."

And that settled that.

So Clif had found himself kneeling in a storage room mid-sermon, nearly naked, with his first and favorite picture of Lexi on his phone. Taken just after their first encounter: She was crouched over the camera, the high edges of her platform sandals framing the shot. Her face was hidden, legs spread, luscious pussy on full display up her tight leather skirt. Perfect lips still soaking wet from Clif's first kiss.

Clif had her thong in his other hand, or what was left of it. Listening on speaker phone as she walked him through it.

"You're such a

dirty boy

for me", Lexi moaned, "are you enjoying Mommy's panties? Tell me about them."

"They're, ah, pretty messed up now." He said, embarrassed.

"That's because you've been a

good boy

, fucking them all summer", she laughed, "and dumping all that hot young spunk into them, like I told you to."

"I know", he sighed, "they're just getting a little, you know, nast-"

"Shhh..." Lexi interrupted, "Mommy likes it nasty. Now shut up and get my dirty thong on your cock."

Clif felt a flush of anger as his jaw set, like it often did when she talked down to him. At the same time, his hardon jumped to full attention.

Why did it do that?

He was about to open his mouth when she cut in-

"And

Cliffy

," Lexi crooned, voice soft and seductive again, "Mommy will do the talking now. Just work your dick for me."

He settled down with a sigh. He was naked, kneeling on the tough carpet of a church floor, protected by nothing more than the cheap push-button lock on the door handle. It was hardly the time or place for an argument. So he let it go, and started stroking.

"Mmmmm I can hear you, little

Cliffy

," Lexi moaned, "Does it feel good?"

It

did

feel good. Incredible, in fact, just like all the other times he'd jerked off into her panties since she'd snuck them into his pocket after the party. Each stroke slid the smooth strings around his length, and pulled the soft cloth tight over his tip.

"You're such a good, perverted boy, humping Mommy's panties in the middle of church."

He could hear the gentle noises of her playing with herself in the background. Soft and steady. It drove him wild. He let out a ragged breath as his pace increased. The fabric of the thong stretching as he tugged and yanked at it.

"That's it. Keep going. Are you going to be good for me? Are you going to fill up Mommy's thong, baby?"

Clif's breathing was getting deeper, and so was Lexi's. He could hear a gentle rustle and tiny moan after she spit out every filthy sentence.

"Are you going to be a

nasty

boy, like Mommy likes? Are you going to make a mess for me, right there on the floor?"

He was. Clif could feel it already, the tension gathering. His hips and back flexing. It's a good thing Lexi didn't want him to talk, because he could hardly think straight.

"Faster baby. Harder. It's ok. You only need the strings for the next part... you can get rough with them."

Clif's breath caught. He'd thought he was already hard, but that sent a surge through him. And Lexi was far too good at this sort of game not to notice the change in his breathing.

"Ooooh, naughty boy..." Lexi moaned, "do you want it rough? Is my little boy feeling frustrated? Has Mommy been a naughty little cock tease? It's OK, baby... you can take all that anger out on my panties."

Clif gasped a breath, and redoubled his efforts. Each hard stroke tugging the fabric tight over his cock head.

"That's it. Harder. Aunt Lexi is being such a fucking

whore

, isn't she? She deserves it." Lexi teased, "Imagine those panties are Mommy's tight little pussy,

Cliffy

. Make me pay for being such a

slut

."

This is so fucked up

Clif thought in some abstract part of his mind, far removed from the moment. But he was beginning to realize that "fucked up" was the point with aunt Lexi. That's what made it so

hot

. And he wasn't going to stop. She wouldn't let him, anyway.

"Come on, big boy. Rougher." Lexi hissed, "

Force

that fat cock in. Take what you want. Make me your bitch."

He could hear the slick, wet sounds of her pussy, echoing through the phone speaker. In his right mind, Clif would be terrified of being heard through the flimsy door, but he was well past that now. He snarled, grunting and groaning his pleasure as he doubled his pace.

"Get loud, baby. I want to hear them tear." Lexi gasped, almost shouting, "I want to hear you

fuck a hole

in Mommy's panties."

Clif furiously jerked himself, possessed, as the thong strained and stretched and finally gave in. His red, rock-hard tip ripped through the soft fabric of his trophy, pumping through with each thrust. Turning the pretty blue thong into an ornament around his cock as his hips began to spasm.

"I'm such a

whore

, Cliffy. Fucking

ruin

my cunt. I deserve it." Lexi screamed, voice tinny through his phone, "Mommy's just a nasty, slutty hole for you to cum in. Do it, baby.

Fucking rape me

."

It's a miracle the congregation didn't hear Clif's pure, animal groan as his first massive rope of cum

sprayed

across the room, splattering the wall and door jamb. His groan faded to grunts as his second, third, and fourth jets coated the cheap carpet. His grunts gave way to moans as the last spurts ran over his hands and cock, soaking Lexi's violated thong in sperm for the hundredth time.

Gradually, Clif came back down from ecstasy. Still gasping as he kneeled with his head bowed nearly to the floor, watching a final pulse trickle onto Lexi's thong, where it had fallen in a puddle of his jizz. He could hear matching gasps on the phone, as Lexi gathered herself.

"That was... so fucked up." He said, once he'd caught his breath.

"I know, baby, wasn't it perfect?" Lexi breathed, "you did amazing... you're so good to me, Cliffy."

"No," Clif said, "I mean it was really messed-"

"It was

perfect

, Cliffy," Lexi cut in, "It felt

amazing

, and I

loved

it, and

you

loved it, and that's all that matters. Don't overthink it."

She wasn't wrong about that. Clif was still trying to catch his breath. His back was still twitching and flexing. His knees were agony on the stiff carpet, but there was no way he could stand.

"OK" he said, yielding the point.

"

Good boy

," Lexi said, "Now... we had a deal, didn't we? Just tie them in a pretty bow, and send me a picture. Prove that you want me more than that silly little church, and Mommy will make it

all

worth it."

Lexi was whispering as he tied the knot, but Clif was barely paying attention. He had enough on his mind.

***

It had taken so long to clean up, so long to compose himself, that Clif was worried that the service would be over. That he would open the door and the whole congregation would be staring at him.

He should have known better. Half of them were almost asleep, and the preacher might as well have been droning the exact same words as when he'd left. Even his mom barely noticed, just nodding as he scooted past her.

So Clif sat in the pew next to his mom, trying not to think about how fucked up it was when she took hold of his hand,

the same hand

. Trying to ignore the iron bar in his slacks. And most of all, trying to ignore the delicious agony of his aunt's still-wet thong tied tight around his cock.

**************

That was so fucked up

, Clif thought to himself, as he climbed into their SUV.

It had taken another hour for the sermon to wrap up, almost a half hour to file out of the pews, and a good forty five minutes for the family to wade through the swarm of chit-chatting churchgoers. Clif had walked through it in a daze, barely conscious of the parade of neighbors and acquaintances. Occasionally shrugging a response. But it hardly mattered. His mom Grace did all the talking for him, just like always.

Clif had rarely been so conflicted. His head was filled with the terrible coldness of post-nut clarity. What if he had missed something cleaning up? What if someone had heard him? What if his mom had noticed how long he was gone? His life would be

over

.

But at the same time, his body had rarely been so calm. He had walked out of the church in a serene haze, his muscles perfectly relaxed. His groin pulsing with the gentle ache of pure satisfaction, his cock still half-hard, enjoying the sweet embrace of Lexi's thong.

He didn't even want to do it... how did Lexi play him so easily?

How could he feel so good betraying his family and church?

How could he be so guilty, but still want to do it again?

"You're awfully quiet, Clifton." His mom said.

Clif snapped out of his reverie with a jerk, glancing around the car.

"Sorry, just... I've been thinking a lot. Sorry." He stammered.

"You don't have to apologize, sweetheart," Grace said, "I know just what's going through that head of yours!"

Clif felt a sudden shiver as a pit opened in his gut.

"I saw how today's sermon resonated with you." She continued with a smile, "Sometimes I find myself caught up in the message of the Lord in just the same way."

"

Oh, uhh.

" Clif said, equal parts confused and relieved.

"I'm glad," Grace said, her smile edging towards a sneer, "that

someone

is finally paying attention to the Word."

If the rest of Clif's family noticed the slight, none of them gave any sign. They were all used to mom's passive aggressive comments. His father was finally free to sleep guilt-free, and was passed out against the passenger-side window. His sisters were finally free to use their phones guilt-free, and all were eagerly

tap-tapping

away.

"Ummmm, of course, mom." Clif blushed, "Yeah, I just... it was a really good sermon."

"Good." she said, "I'm proud of you, Clifton."

"Thanks, Mom."

They lapsed into silence, leaving Clif even more conflicted than before. It's not that he wanted to be caught, but how could he feel worse knowing that his mom was fooled? He could feel a tear prick at the corner of his eye, and turned to face the window.

She was proud of him...

but he wasn't.

**************

Clif stared at Lexi's thong, or what was left of it. Bright neon blue, stained and torn. It sat in his palm like a coiled serpent.

He'd been standing in his bedroom for a good ten minutes. Still as a statue. Holding the thong over the wastebasket.

He'd been jerking off to them, with them, on them, at least twice a day, every day. Ever since Lexi had given them to him, the day of the party. He couldn't count the number of times. Hell, he couldn't even count the times he'd secretly washed them, so they could still pass as cloth. But the rush he got from them, each time, was

every bit

as good as the first.

Clif could smell her -taste her- every time he held it. Could remember seeing that pretty scrap of cloth for the very first time, up Lexi's skirt by the pool. And he could remember the way it had taken his breath away. The way it had neatly split Lexi's perfect ass cheeks, as she had pulled him up the stairs. How it framed her body, arching proudly over each hip, as she had dropped her skirt for him. The way it had dragged down the side of his face, as Lexi had forced his first kiss onto her pussy. The way the thong had felt, a scrap of treasure in his pocket on the long drive home. The way it had driven him wild, and still did.

It was such an evil thing. It made him a sinner. It made him a pushover. He hated it so much.

It was such a wonderful thing. It made him feel so good. It made him feel so free. He loved it so much.

I should get rid of it

. He told himself. But he couldn't shake the feeling that

she

would know.

What do you care if she knows? You don't want this anyway.

He told himself. But he knew he was lying.

You need to stand up to her. Tell her it's over.

He told himself.

Why was that so frightening?

His hand tilted, to drop Lexi's vile thong in the trash.

His door handle rattled, the hinges squeaking as it swung open. And he snatched the scrap of blue fabric almost from midair, stuffing it deep into his pocket.

Heather, the eldest of his sisters, leaned against the door frame. Grinning at him like the cat that caught the canary. A blonde, blue-eyed clone of their mom, with the holier-than-thou attitude and bitchy tone to match.

"What are you up to, Cliffy?" She teased.

"Nothing!" He stammered, "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, huh?" Heather's eyes narrowed, the smile falling away, "I know you've got Mom snowed,

Clifton

, but don't think I don't see through your bullshit."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Clif blushed, suddenly angry.

"Look, I don't know why you're acting so weird, but I know you're up to

something

." She said, "And when I figure it out, you're SO busted."

"I'm not doing

anything

", Clif bluffed, Lexi's thong suddenly hot as coals in his pocket, "and get out of my room."

"Whatever, weirdo." Heather muttered, "Mom says come down for lunch."

The door

clicked

shut, and Clif sighed, fingers rubbing the cloth in his pocket. He pulled it out to look at it again. Bright blue. Coiled like a serpent in his palm.

He could throw it away.

But what if they found it?

With a sigh, he tucked it back into his pocket.

***

The rest of the day was a blur. Which was not to say that it was

quick

. Clif spent it tense and distracted, and the hours stretched into infinity, like the last drop of honey from a bottle.

Lunch was agony. Mom spent it trying to talk to him about church, while Heather egged her on and tried to catch him up with details from the morning's sermon.

How the fuck did she even remember? She'd been on her phone the whole time.

By the end of it Clif was a wreck, grasping at straws for the tiny snippets of the morning -anything but the storage room- that he could possibly remember.

He thought he might get a break, being in his room, when

bzzzt

, his phone buzzed.

Mommy <3: Hey Cliffy baby, I didn't forget about our deal. Just getting a little carried away with your reward. Here's a preview:

Bzzzt

Mommy <3:

Picture Message

Clif sat on his bed and stared at the text notification for a half hour. Finger hovering over

Open

. Hovering over

Delete

. Unable to press either of them. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

He threw his phone across the room, laced up his shoes, and was down the stairs in an instant.

"I'm going out running!" Clif shouted to no one in particular as he wrenched open the door, and was gone before anyone could reply.

***

The hiss of the shower was deafening, thank God.

Clif couldn't stand any more questions from his family. Couldn't stand any more buzzing from his phone. Couldn't stand to think. He'd just be thinking about

her

.

He had run until he couldn't anymore, and walked home. Skipped dinner to clean off. Soon he'd hide in his room. But he wasn't any further from his problems.

I have to do something

, he realized,

whether I like it or not.

He had to confront his problems head on.

He had to talk to Lexi.

**************

Clif stalked to his room, still drying his hair, and threw his towel into the corner with the others. Grabbed a new pair of shorts, and his phone off the laundry pile while he was at it. He sat down on his bed, shoulders squared, ready to lay down the law, and tapped the messenger icon.

Holy. Fuck.

He knew that Lexi had sent him a picture. He was ready for that. Nothing he hadn't seen before: Strong, smooth legs that went

all

the way up, perched on the highest, hottest heels. Thick bubble butt, perfectly smackable, kissable, biteable. Narrow waist and bejeweled tummy sweeping smoothly up into a breathtaking pair of double D's, proud and heavy, with thick, hard nipples poking shamelessly through her thin tops. An elegant stretch of neck, delicate chin, and full, pouty lips, always quirked into a knowing grin that promised

many

talents. And Lexi's

eyes

-gorgeous, golden brown, alternately soft and piercing- enough to transfix any man.

Clif knew that Lexi had sent him a picture. He had steeled himself for it. He was angry. Furious, even. Ready for anything. Or so he had thought.

She did promise to show you

everything

, he thought to himself. And Lexi had delivered. He scrolled down the thread, watching the tiny bar along the edge barely shift.

How many pictures had she sent?!

A cascade of pornographic impressions, interrupted by lines of dirty talk, pure filth:

Lexi's curvy body reflected in a tall mirror, perched on top of six-inch clear platform heels. She was crammed into a stretchy black clubbing dress at least 2 sizes too small. The fabric stretched so obscenely tight that Clif could see the keyhole of light shining through it between her legs. Her proud nipples clearly visible, with a shelf of cleavage that threatened to spill over the top of the dress at any moment.