I offer fair warning to readers looking for a lot of graphic sex. This is the opening chapter in a long story relating to incest and taboo relationships, and there is very little sexual content. However, this chapter is more about setting the background for the rest of the story. You can skip ahead to the next chapter, but may find yourself wondering about some of the events and the motivation behind some character actions. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Chapter 1 - Revenge for Mom
My parents divorced when I was 13 after my mother had finally had enough of my father's cheating. The divorce turned out to just be one last way he could fuck Mom over. He pretended to be civil about the entire thing, but used that façade to keep Mom's defenses down. Before she knew what happened, he had managed to move nearly all the money from his accounts and their joint account to an offshore bank in the Cayman's where it couldn't be found or reached by the courts. Additionally, he actually had the balls to sue Mom for alimony, claiming she earned more than he did. As proof, he provided the previous five years of income tax returns which did indeed show that she grossed more income than he did.
Mom worked as an executive assistant to a vice president in a national mattress company. Dad was a regional salesman for a sporting goods company and made most of his money through commissions. He had always been flush with money, but it was hard to argue with the joint income tax returns signed by him and my mother. Despite his petition for alimony, the judge denied his claim. My father then relented on joint custody and allowed my mother to have full custody of me. However, Mom wasn't able to put forth a successful claim for child support from my father because of the tax return documents.
A few years later, I found out what my father had done. He would prepare and submit the joint return every spring which showed my mother's income in excess of his. She always just signed the forms and the modest income tax refund would be sent to their joint account. Months later, my father would forge her signature on an amended return which included his actual income and he kept the refund for himself.
I was the stereotypical high school nerd. Math Club, Computer Club, Science Club, etc. After watching how badly my father treated my Mom and how hard she had to work just to try and keep up with the regular bills, I decided I would find a way to get everything back from my father that he swindled from her. I figured learning about computers was the best way to go about doing just that. Five years later, I was in my first year of college on a full academic scholarship after finishing high school in three years.
In high school, I learned some of the first concepts about hacking a computer system from the teacher who was advising our computer club. To be fair, he was trying to make us aware of some of the more common hacking techniques and how hackers operated if they were trying to break into your computer or network just so that we could secure our own systems better. In college, I met other students who were a lot less altruistic about learning and sharing hacking secrets. I had already learned to program moderately complex web pages, but the college hackers showed me how to embed malicious code. I found several small programs people had written to surreptitiously monitor any user's computer use or scan through it when they were away.
After several tries, I finally perfected a simple web page that carried the Trojan Horse program I decided to use and started seeking out dear Father. Given what I had learned of his habits from Mom and the address from various court filings a few years back, I managed to locate several of his identities on various social media, dating, and chat/video chat services. I already knew at least one bank that he used and after carefully replicating the standard look of its web pages, I built my own fake page with the Trojan Horse program.
I was surprised at how easily it was to snag him. I sent an email that spoofed his banks format and requested that he take a short survey to help their customer service. All survey participants were automatically entered into a vacation prize drawing. The email also reiterated the bank's policy not to request account names, numbers, passwords, or other personal data and to immediately notify the bank if the account holder received such a request.
When he clicked on the link, the fake page came up and gave an error message saying that the site was temporarily not available due to high traffic volume, and to please try again. As soon as the page loaded, the hidden program would automatically load onto his system. Four days after sending the spear-phishing email, I got the initial message from the program indicating it was installed on the target system and operational.
For the next three weeks, I watched my father using his computer and when he was away, I began scanning through the folders looking for useful information. One of the first files I found was a list he used to keep track of all his different accounts/user names and passwords. I was amazed and disgusted at how many porn sites and hook-up sites he was using, but I struck gold with the list of his various bank account numbers, user names, and passwords. I was able to intercept video from his computer's camera when he was using it for video chat as well as pick up all his keystrokes as he typed on various programs and web sites. I counted at least 17 women who he was engaging in cybersex with and some of the sessions got so disgusting, I actually stopped watching and turned my computer off. But not before recording of some of the cybersex sessions to later anonymously share with senior people in his company and post online.
I then began slowly changing information in her bank account profiles and was able to intercept and delete email notifications the banks would send whenever something changed. I bought a pre-paid phone and used that for the two-factor authentication I started setting up on his accounts and then started shifting money around so that it would eventually end up in a offshore numbered account that I set up for myself.
On D-Day, I started logging in to all of his banks and shifting the money to my account through a spoofed IP address that would keep him and most people from tracking down who did it. Two hours later, my father was broke and didn't know it. I also found the amended tax returns he had submitted without my mother's knowledge and copied the files for myself. Later, I showed Mom what he had done but refused to tell her where or how I found the tax returns. They became the basis for a criminal suit she brought against him and eventually won. Since they were joint returns, there was nothing he could complain about since they were technically as much hers and they were his. Emails went out with some of his more disgusting online sex sessions and other videos were posted online.
When my father's world turned to shit, it took about two days before he started harassing mom. She had no idea what was going on but got a restraining order against him contacting her directly. After that point, her lawyer handled all the complaints, accusations, name-calling, etc. as my father found himself out of a job, no money in the bank, his cars and home being repossessed, and his current girlfriend running off with another guy. She was also sporting the nice set of fake boobs my father had paid for.
I waited another year before telling Mom about the money that was now available to her and her reaction was mixed. Her lawsuit against my father was settled and the state took on its own criminal prosecution for lying to the court when he intentionally hid the complete tax records during the divorce hearings. Mom felt a degree of vindication, but dredging up all the bad memories and personal nastiness from her ex- was emotionally draining. My revelations initially made her upset and she almost told me to return the funds I had stolen from my father, but I eventually convinced her that at least a significant portion belonged to her and I had just recovered what he had stolen from her.
She did agree to quit her second job as a waitress and spend more time taking care of herself. I bought her a new car, took care of two months' delinquency on the home mortgage, and took her shopping for new clothes. It was the first time she had gone shopping for herself since before the divorce and watching her excitement at trying on new clothes was indescribably good. That was also the first time I started to appreciate how attractive my mother really was.
My Mom had just turned 43, and was 5'9" tall with dirty blonde hair and very light blue eyes. She was slender and didn't have much of a figure, but when she smiled, the entire room would light up. I tended to think that her breasts were on the small side, probably because I would compare her to her twin sister, Dorothy. When I was in high school, I couldn't help sneaking a peek at Mom's bras and discovered that she was a 36C. She did have very nice, shapely legs and I think she wore a lot of skirts and dresses because she knew they showed off her best assets.
Mom and her sister weren't identical twins and didn't look anything alike; they barely looked like sisters. Aunt Dorothy's middle name was Jane, so everyone called her "DJ". She was about 5'7" and a bit heavier than Mom. She had long, wavy light brown hair, nice breasts that were much larger and rounder than Mom's, wide hips, and a beautiful, round ass. Aunt DJ was the wilder of the two sisters and from my perspective, she was the "fun" aunt. When I hit puberty and started to notice girls, I would have some wonderful wet dreams about Aunt DJ. She was married to my Uncle Bob and they had a daughter, Kacie, who was a year older than me.
My Uncle Bob was in the Navy and out to sea a lot. Since they lived less than an hour away, Aunt DJ and Kacie would often stop by and spend a couple weeks with Mom and me when he was deployed. Our house was small, so when my father was still there, Aunt DJ used my room and Kacie and I shared the sleeper sofa in the living room. The sleeper sofa wasn't very comfortable and squeaked a lot when we moved around, but Kacie and I liked being able to stay up and watch TV late at night.
Being a year older, Kacie thought she knew much more than me and after her mother gave her "The Talk", it stirred up her curiosity to explore the differences between boys and girls and see what all the fuss was about. When we were little, we would stay awake in my bed and she would tell me all about sex, at least as she understood it, while our parents were sleeping. I was fascinated by her confidence and apparent expertise on a subject that I knew little about, but was starting to become interested. She enlisted me as a willing partner to further explore the male and female differences. Our exploration turned into play and we discovered that touching ourselves (or having someone else touch us) in the right places could feel quite good.
After Mom and dad separated, Mom and her sister shared the master bedroom during their visits. Kacie and I had reached the age where it wasn't appropriate for us to share the same bed anymore, so she slept in my bedroom and I slept on the couch by myself. However, we would still sneak around at night to get together. As we grew older, we became aware that such play between family members was strongly discouraged by society writ large and the frequency our interactions slowly decreased even though their intensity grew greater. I experienced my first ejaculation when Kacie was rubbing my stiff dick with her hand and the white gooey cream that squirted out of it landed all over her hand, arm, and on my bedroom mattress.
"Ewwww!" she cried out. Fortunately, our mothers didn't hear her outcry. "You better not ever do that to me again!" she said crossly as we cleaned up the mess. Eventually, Kacie shifted her focus on boys in her high school and we stopped messing around with each other altogether. However, I started masturbating more frequently now that I had learned what the entire experience entailed. I also heard Kacie masturbating in my bed on nights when she and hAunt DJ were staying over and wondered how much different a climax felt to a girl.
