All characters in this story are over the age of 18 and consenting, I in no way encourage or condone incest in real life and simply write this as fantasy and fiction. There are no parallels between any characters in this story and real individuals.
The writer's sister
And with that I was done, I had finished rewriting the last draft of my story, and with one final suggestion from the autocorrect, I could finally feel proud of my accomplishment. It wasn't the greatest story ever written, it wasn't going to win me any awards, but I enjoyed it enough to feel confident someone would get their rocks off reading it. I started writing erotic stories during the summer break and submitted them online to see what kind of reaction I would get.
There was no big moment of inspiration or any particular reason for me starting, just had the impulse one day to start, thinking nothing would come out of it. Fortunately, there was enough interest online for my work that I decided to keep writing, it was fun and more importantly, it was a chance for me to find an outlet for my fetishes and fantasies, a way for me to create my own world and characters who could carry out my deepest desires and see them finally act out the erotic scenes my mind concocted.
Incest was a particular obsession of mine for many years, after getting bored of the same porn featuring stepmothers and stepsisters getting plowed by their stepsons and stepbrothers, I began to peruse the erotic stories websites for any amateur narratives that could arouse my interest. Despite the severe lack of high-quality works, there were a few talented authors that could produce well-written and intriguing romances featuring siblings and parents fighting their forbidden desires before bedding their relatives in forbidden acts. And now, after years of being a doted reader, I finally started submitting my own stories to a satisfying response from the few readers kind enough to pay attention to me.
I went downstairs looking for lunch, my story safely in the hands of my volunteer editor whose guidance had saved my works from my own mistakes in the past. There I found my parents and sister, Millie, in the middle of some discussion, not usually something I meddle in unless I found myself too interested.
"Well look who's finally awake, ever consider doing something other than sleep around all day?" teased my father.
It was better, I thought, for them to believe I spent most of my time asleep and gaming instead of writing perverted stories about family orgies and taboo romances.
"Don't think so," I responded, "Bed's too cozy."
As I explored the kitchen for ingredients, I heard my family continue their talk.
"And how many people read those stories anyway?" asked my mom.
"A few, still not a huge audience but hopefully I'll get more attention soon," answered my sister to my confusion.
"And do you think you might pursue it more seriously later? Like, become an actual author?" my father asked her.
"I'm already an author dad, just because I'm not published..." she responded.
"What's going on?" I asked, my curiosity too much to bear anymore.
"Your sister writes dirty stories on the internet," said my mother in a conflicted manner, almost as if she didn't know how to say it.
"Does she now?" I tried to keep my discomfort hidden.
"Don't give me shit, it's something I've been doing for fun and I enjoy it. And no, it's not perverted," she said ready to defend herself expecting a condescending retort from me.
I simply stared at her, not knowing what to say or how to react, this was too surreal. Although, if she was so open about it then clearly it couldn't be something too taboo for the rest of my family.
The fact my sister had the same hobby as I did was... surprising, and weird, and... well I didn't know how to feel other than just pretend like I didn't care.
"Well, it's your deal, none of my business," I said to her.
Hopefully, she published on a different site from mine. Likely as it was the most popular website for those stories and my particular genre had the biggest traffic, while slightly afraid there was a part of me that found this whole thing just the tinny bit hilarious. If nothing else for the perverted coincidence, I was curious to find out what kind of stories she had made.
As I stepped behind Millie, I looked at her laptop. It was indeed the same website I use for my own stories and saw her profile name, it seemed familiar enough to make me worry and I kept it in my memory. With more curiosity than reason or morals, I went upstairs and began searching for her on the site.
Her library of works was varied, initially, I saw some pretty mild descriptions of stories, from wives cheating on their husbands to teachers and their students. As I continued the search, I found some examples of more extreme topics like non-consent (Obviously just pretend fantasies) BDSM, and some good old-fashioned gay porn. Regardless, nothing as forbidden as my own titles.
Still wondering about the extent of her interests on the site I looked at her list of favorite authors expecting to see the same kind of genres she wrote about. With a pit in my stomach and a hole in my chest, I saw many of my own favorites saved on her preferences, folks who had written narratives featuring perverted families engaging in taboo activities and the same forbidden romances I read to satisfy my horniness. Finally, I found my profile name on her list, with all of my online career details and information.
It was then that it came to me, her profile name, she was a regular fan of my stories, commenting often on their detailed sex scenes and family relationships. I remembered her mentioning before that she was looking to become a writer herself and that I gave her words of encouragement, how do I regret saying that now. My whirlwind mind was broken from its fugue and dizziness by a familiar voice.
"What are you doing?" I heard behind me.
"Shit," is all I could say under my breath as I lowered my head.
Standing up from my chair I looked at her solemnly.
"Listen, I need to tell you something," I told her.
My sister looked at me with visible confusion, she then stared at the screen and saw what I was doing.
"Kinda weird don't you think?" she asked me.
"Check my profile," is all I could say.
Unsure and intrigued, she began to look at the website, moving the mouse and clicking around, after a few seconds I could see the spectrum of emotions that ran across her mind as she slowly realized the truth, her favorite author, who she had closely followed for months now, was her own brother. All those stories featuring brothers and sisters falling in love with one another and failing to fight back against their deepest desires no doubt changing in meaning and significance for her.
"Oh no," she said slowly with a cold expression.
"Yeaaaaaah..." I responded similarly.
Raising her hands to cover her face she said nothing more as she stepped away from my room and closed the door behind her, statued and immobile I stood where I was, failing to react for a few minutes as I pondered the consequences of her finding out and how our relationship would change. With little else to do, I resigned myself to simply shut off the computer and go to bed, wallowing in my regrets and hoping the next day would never come.
Awkward and silent were the days that followed, at least between me and my sister. We did our best to ignore each other avoiding words and stares, almost as if we had already done something wrong.
"What's going on between you two? Are you fighting about something?" asked my mom once she trapped me in the kitchen.
"What are you talking about?" I answered feigning ignorance.
"Come on, you two have fought before but this is different, you're acting really weird around each other,"
I was hoping to end this conversation quickly and just go to my room, not that I could do anything there, ever since Millie discovered my internet hobby, I hadn't actually written anything. I was too uncomfortable to think about new stories.
"Is it because of her... hobby?" said my mom interrupting my conflicting thoughts.
"What?"
"I know you might find it weird, but she enjoys doing it, plus it's her hobby and we can't judge her for it." she followed.
"You know what, you're right. I won't let it bother me anymore, it's her business and it shouldn't matter to me", I was hoping to get this conversation finished.
Fortunately, it was over, I could finally get upstairs and close myself off into the calmness of my own mind. But that hope was dashed when I found my sister in my bed waiting for me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her.
"I need to ask you something," she told me sternly, her eyes staring at the floor refusing to meet my own.
"About what?"
"Well... you know I've been reading your stories for a while now, and... I mean..."
My stomach was turning, nervous for what she was about to say to me.
"I need your help, like you said to me before," she finally told me.
"I said I would help you?" I retorted trying to remember.
"In your comments, you said you'd help me, right?"
Indeed, I had offered to help her with any stories she wanted me to edit, that was before I knew who she was though.
"Help you in what?" I asked her.
"I want to write a new story," she said standing up, "but it's... about a brother and sister."
"Oh," I followed "you haven't written any stories like that before."
"Well, no, because I wasn't sure how to write it, or more like, how to get two siblings to... you know," she said making me feel a little bit guilty.
"Right, I see what you mean. Well, if you want help, I can lend a hand."
"Really? You don't think that's too weird? Considering the subject."
"Come on," I said to her, "It's just a story, doesn't mean anything in real life. Just a fantasy for our readers, right?"
"Of course," she followed, "It's just to make our readers happy."
"And us too I guess," I followed.