Wilderwood

It's hard to keep secrets in a town like this. We're only starting to find that out now -- me and my sister -- now that we have a secret to keep.

Wilderwood is a small town, the kind where you can't walk down the main street without running into someone you know -- someone you went to high school with, or one of your teachers, or a friend of your parents. Everyone knows everyone.

It's a nice place to live. What trouble there is mostly happens out at the edge of town in a few rough spots like Hog Wild, the biker bar out near the highway. The last time anything really bad happened here was before I was born, when the FBI showed up after a body was found in the forest. That was twenty years ago, and The Hook Man is still part of the town's urban mythology.

It's even harder for us than it would be for most other people. We're Wilderwoods, part of the family that founded the town. Our Dad is a real estate developer and a big deal locally. Our great-uncle owns a lot of the land around here, including Wilderwood Forest, which makes him an even bigger deal.

So we're really visible. For a while in high school my friend Trent even started this thing where he got everyone referring to House Wilderwood, like something out of Game of Thrones. I'm glad he dropped that, especially now that comparisons between the Wilderwoods and the Lannisters are a bit too on close for comfort.

That's our secret - for the last two weeks me and my sister have been fucking each other every chance we get.

= = =

Every chance we get isn't as often as either of us would like. We're both still living at home so we can't sleep together, though Emma has snuck into my room a couple of times in the middle of the night, slipping out again after she's drained me dry like a succubus.

At least like a succubus who texts me first to see if I'm awake (usually) and horny (always.)

Meeting up outside is tricky, seeing as it's all too easy to run into people we know around town. We're still working on ways to get around that.

It doesn't help that we've both got summer jobs now. This does get our parents off our backs, but gives us even less time together. I'm working at Pop! goes the weasel, the comic book shop in town, and Emma has recently started as a chambermaid at the Wilderwood Hotel. It turns out that does have certain advantages, aside from placating our parents, since my sister now access to a pass-key for every unoccupied bedroom in the hotel.

Which is where we are now. It's mid-afternoon but the curtains are drawn and my sister is standing by the bed, dressed in her uniform. The hotel is a big, old fashioned place and the chambermaids wear the classic black and white outfits. It's not exactly how I imagined it in my fantasies -- no lace, lacing or latex -- but it still looks really good on her. She's even pulled her hair back into a pony tail rather than its usual punky-goth explosion.

"Welcome to the Wilderwood Hotel, Sir." She smiles and curtseys. "If there's anything you need..."

I look back at the closed door of the room we're in. "Sis, are you sure noone's going to come in on us?"

Emma bites her lip. "It's cool. Vic has her boyfriend over here all the time."

I want to ask who Vic is, but I get the feeling I'm already screwing up the scene we're playing out, and besides that she's almost certainly another member of the Coven, the town's metal/goth girls who my sister has been hanging out with since she came back from college.

"Okay." I nod. "So uh..."

"Let me take your coat, Sir, " says Emma, walking over to me and easing off my jacket. "You must be so hot in here."

She's using what I can only think of as a variation of her porn-star voice, only this one is soft, breathy and delivered with lowered eyes and a perma-pout. It's sexy... but I'm still having trouble getting into it.

"May I take your shirt, Sir?"

"Uh sure. I mean... yes. You may."

She unbuttons my shirt -- I'm at the Wilderwood so I'm a little more smartly dressed than usual -- and then her hands run down my chest to my waist.

"May I take your belt, Sir?"

"Yes. Do that now, girl."

My sister unbuckles my belt and starts sliding it out through the loops. As she's doing this she looks up at me from under her half closed eyelids...

...and we both start laughing.

"Oh jesus, " Emma says. "This is really not working is it?"

I shake my head, grinning. "Not for a second, Sis."

She drags me over to the bed and pushes me down onto it as she finishes pulling my belt free.

"Sit."

I sit up on the edge of the bed. "Hey, what happened to 'Sir'?"

Emma grins. "Sorry, little brother, but when you said 'Do that now, girl' like that you sounded like Harold."

"Who's Harold?"

"He's the manager of this place. He speaks with this weird fake-british accent."

"I guess I need to work on my Dom voice then, huh?"

"Uh huh, " Emma nods, dropping down onto her knees in front of me and reaching into my pants to wrap her fingers around my cock. "Maybe work on your technique for taking advantage of submissive servant girls too."

"Got it."

"Although, " she runs her fingers up and down my cock, which is properly hard. "From the looks of this the maid's uniform isn't a total loss."

"That's all you, Sis."

Emma smiles and leans over my cock, licking at and around the tip, and I groan a little as I feel her hot breath on the head. "Would Sir like his cock sucked?"

I don't say anything -- not risking the Dom voice right now -- and anyway she knows the answer. Her lips wrap around my cock and she leans down, sucking my length into her mouth like... oh god yes... like my sister.

It's not that I don't like the maid outfit, or the sexy servant act, it's just that as hot as that is it's not nearly as hot as just the fact that my big sister is on her knees with my cock in her mouth and she loves doing this as much as I love her doing it.

Yeah, the room service in this place is pretty great.

Fuck.

I should have used that line.

= = =

A little while later we're both sprawled out on the bed, idly chatting, with the taste of each other on our tongues.

"So what did Mom and Dad say about you switching college?"

My original plan for the fall had been to go to college here in Wilderwood, but now the idea of going upstate, futher from home and closer to my sister, is a lot more appealing. I was a little uneasy about telling Emma that I was already signed up for the local college, but it seemed like the smart thing to do to tell her now.

We don't keep secrets from each other now. From everyone else in town, but not from each other.

"They were pretty unenthusiastic, to be honest. Mom especially."

Emma sighs. "I guess she doesn't want you to fall under the same evil influences that corrupted me, huh?"

"She didn't say that."

"She doesn't have to." Emma sits up. "She's just mad that I'm not her ideal daughter anymore."

"I'm not complaining."

"I'll bet." She grins at me.

"You could... maybe go easier on her though." I shrug, because it's not the first time I've suggested it. "She might be more open to the idea of me going upstate in the fall if you weren't so... in her face."

"You think?"

"It's worth a shot."

"Fine, " Emma sighs again. "I'll be a good girl. With a job and everything."

"Yeah, you're totally going to have to remake this bed."

Emma runs her fingers through her hair, pushing her pony tail back into shape. "That's okay. It was fun messing it up."

I reach up and stroke her back. "The room service in this place is pretty great."

My sister turns her head and raises her eyebrows. "Oh, so now you want to play guest and maid, huh?"

"Yeah." I move my hand up and get a hold of her pony tail, pulling her down on top of me and into a kiss. "Come here, girl."

She doesn't laugh this time. I guess I said it right.

= = =

Emma needs to get back to work eventually, so I leave the room and stroll down the corridor, feeling good, feeling confident.

Good because every time with my sister is as good as the time before, and the time before that. We're so in tune it's amazing. Neither of us have thought too much into it -- I don't think we've even used the I-word once when talking about our relationship. I guess we will, but not right now. Not when things are so good.

Confident because the hotel is a big place and noone pays much attention to people wandering along the corridors. It's not that busy -- it's really too big for the town and I guess it used to be a lot busier -- but busy enough that I don't like I stand out. It's not like any of my friends, or Emma's, hang out here.

So it feels less risky meeting here than some other places. I sometimes think Emma gets off on the risk, and sometimes I think I do too. It does add to the excitement, sneaking around, finding new places to fuck.

I step into the elevator and head down to the lobby. The only other person in the elevator is an older guy, very formally dressed in a vested suit with striped trousers like an old-style banker or something.

He looks down at me -- he's pretty tall -- and raises an eyebrow. "The young Mr. Wilderwood, " he says. "Good afternoon."

"Hi." I already half know who this is from the plummy accent before he introduces himself and confirms it.

"Harold Dawes, manager of the hotel May I say it's always nice to see a representative of one of our town's most distinguished familes in our halls."

Emma wasn't kidding about the accent. Steve, who owns Pop!, actually is a brit and he sounds nothing like this guy, who talks like he just walked out of one of those british drama series that Mom watches on PBS.

"Just over saying hi to my sister, " I say as casually as I can.

"Young Miss Emma is a fine asset to our establishment." He smiles as the elevator doors open into the lobby. "After you."

"Uh, thanks."

Dawes goes off along the corridor and I walk through into the lobby, on my way out. There's a few other people there, at the front desk or passing through. I'm not really paying much attention to them but as I walk by one of them tugs my sleeve.

"You're Emma Wilderwood's brother, right?"

I wonder if this ever happens to Emma. Does anyone ever recognise her only because she's my sister? Probably not.

It's the sunglasses I recognise first. They're halfway down his nose, and he's looking over them at me with bright blue eyes that are not quite as crazy as they look on YouTube.

"Uh... yeah, " I say to Alex Trowley.

He's all in black -- suit, shirt, shoes and sunglasses -- and gold -- neck chain, watch. His hair is slicked back and he has a thin mustache. He's one of these guys that it's really hard to put an age on. He could be twenty. He could be forty.

"Alex Trowley, " he says, offering his hand.

"I've seen some of your vids."

"Hehe. Don't forget to like, comment and subscribe. Hehe."

Trowley's laugh is... weird. His head doesn't move, just his mouth, and it comes out more like a stuttery cough than an actual laugh.

He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. "You should keep an eye on the channel. I've got some good stuff coming up. Local interest, if you know what I mean."

"Oh?" That's enough for my paranoia to kick in again. There's a rumour that Trowley has been sniffing around after Emma's friends and spreading bullshit stories about witchy rituals in the valley. I'm more worried about what else he might find out. His content on YouTube is a mix of politics, conspiracy theories and late-night rants about how everyone in town is out to get him. I don't doubt for a second that he'd leap at the chance to expose me and Emma just on account of our family name.

"There's a lot goes on in this town, " he says. "Behind closed doors. This is Twin Peaks not the Hallmark Channel. It's not all happy families. Hehe."

Yeah, that's not reassuring, not coming from Trowley.

"Your sister just started here, right? Summer job. That was quick. She got friends working here?"

I shrug. "I guess so."

"Friends in high places." He gives a little nod and his sunglasses drop down again. It's like a signature move of his -- he does it in all his vids. "She's got some interesting friends. Like Lauren Whitley. You know Lauren?"

Emma's friend, her roomie during her first year at college, and the Queen of the Coven. When I'm talking to my friends I'm more than happy to say I know her.

"I don't really know her."

"Hehe. She's an Interesting girl."

"Mr. Trowley. How nice to see you again." A slim young woman with dark hair, wearing a vested suit, walks over to us both.

Paige Darby is the older sister of one of my friends. I'm convinced Kenny is adopted, because Paige is sleek, slim, dark haired and well mannered, and Kenny is none of those things. She also says 'how nice to see you again' to Trowley in much the same way Steve at Pop! says 'come again soon' to customers he doesn't like.

She works at the hotel, an assistant manager I think. Maybe the accent is part of the job description because she speaks in the same formal, fake-brit accent as Harold Dawes. She makes it sound a lot better though.

"Paige. How's things up at the Institute?"

"Seeing as I don't work there I really wouldn't know. You'd have to ask my sister."

"Hehe. You know, you two look a lot alike."

"It's amazing, isn't it? One would almost think we were twins."

"Hehe, " says Trowley. "Hehehehe."

I leave them to it, because Trowley is creeping me the fuck out. I wonder if he's actually barred from the hotel the same way he's barred from Pop! That's the other thing about a town where everyone knows everyone -- any time Trowley starts shit talking about one person he's not just pissing them off, but everybody they know as well, and he's said some really out-there stuff about the Newley Institute.

= = = = = = = = =

The rest of the week is fairly uneventful.

Emma is being a good girl. She doesn't go out of her way to start arguments with Mom, and one night over dinner Dad says he was talking to Harold at the hotel and he said she was doing great. My sister just smiles across the table and volunteers to do the washing up.

She's not out every night either, even when she's not working. A couple of times through the week she stays home and we both manage to keep a straight face when we're talking in front of Mom and Dad about how we're doing some online gaming together, and Mom actually says it's nice that we're spending time together and not fighting like we used to.

Yeah. It is. Really nice.

Dad is a little cooler about that -- I guess because he still thinks I should be getting out more to meet girls -- but he's not immune to the good girl act either, and I actually see him and Emma a couple of times having hushed conversations when Mom isn't around. Emma won't tell me what that's about, only that it's not a secret, just a surprise.

By Friday night the house is about as calm as it's been since Emma got home from college, and when she says she's not going out that night -- first time on a Friday since she came home -- that seems to settle our parents' minds completely.

Along with the rest of it Emma has also been dressing a little more casually around the house. That night she's wearing a hoodie over her tee, and loose fitting -- for her -- jeans, along with sneakers and her hotel pony tail.

It's an interesting night. I learn that my sister doesn't need to go full goth in black leather and fishnet to turn me on -- though it doesn't hurt -- and that she isn't very interested in World of Warcraft. I also learn that it's pretty much impossible to focus on a raid when Emma is climbing all over me.

The raid wipe four times, but only three of those are my fault.

= = =

The next morning I'm working at the shop. Steve's up by the till, talking with Tina. I'm back and forth between the coffee counter and the store shelves, as is Zack.

It's still early and it's fairly quiet when Chris and Kenny wander in for sodas, and the first debate of the day kicks off shortly after when Kenny announces he read in the paper that the college is thinking about changing the name of the football team.

"Wait. You read the Gazette?"

"My sister was reading it at breakfast."

I don't ask which one. In-depth discussion of Kenny's sisters is off-limits because it'd be weird. For some reason this rule doesn't apply to Emma. I suppose Emma's membership of the Coven overrules all that.

Kenny tells us what he heard, though we have to fill in a few blanks with quick searches on Wikipedia.

// The Wilderwood Jacks were formerly known as The Wilderwood Devils -- named after a figure of local legend reputed to haunt the deepest parts of Wilderwood Forest. The name change was made in 1998, reportedly due to pressure from the town authorities following an investigation by the FBI that briefly linked the forest to the activities of the serial killer known as the Hook Man. //

Zack doesn't get it. "So why did they change it?"

"Because for a while a couple of the big tabloids were covering the story and they started referring to the Hook Man as the Wilderwood Devil, " I say.

"It is cooler sounding."

"How do you know that?" Kenny asks me. "It was like forever ago."

The answer to that is that my great-uncle used to tell me and Emma stories about the Wilderwood Devil when we were kids, and since according to him the Devil was friendly -- at least to our family -- he took it as a personal insult when the name was changed.

I don't say any of this though -- I get enough shit from my friends over my family's position in town without laying claim to the local boogeyman -- so I take a poke at Chris instead. "Didn't they change it to Jacks because your old man gave them a big donation?"

The Lakes own the local lumber company, and whatever parts of the forest the my great-uncle doesn't.

Chris nods. "It's in recognition of the contribution the Lake Mill makes to the local economy." I'm guessing he's quoting his parents. He smirks at me. "Brings in more cash than selling plushies of the Wilderwood Devil to tourists ever did."

Jerk. I had one of those plushies. He had red fur and lots of teeth. His name was Wildy.

"So what happened, Chris? Did your old man cut his donation to the college this year?"

He gives me the finger. "We just wanted to give House Wilderwood a chance to regain some of its former glory."

"Dun dun dudu dun dun dudu dun dun..." Kenny drums on the counter-top.

"Jacks is kind of a lame name anyway, " says Zack.

"Hey fuck you, dude."

"Devils is so much cooler."

"Whatever. I'll see you guys later." Chris smirks again, mainly at Zack. "Meeting Haley. Later, guys."

That's low. Reminding Zack that he -- Chris -- is dating a cheerleader, and Zack isn't dating anybody. That's really low. Not that Zack cares.

"He'd drop her in a second for one of the Coven, " he says.

"Which one?"

"Any one."

"Truth, " says Kenny.

"But if he ever starts dating Lucy, " Zack continues, "I'll have to kill him and bury his body in the Wilderwood."

Kenny pulls out his phone and pretends to make a call. "Hey is that the FBI? I know who the Hook Man is."

Zack grins. "The Hook Man doesn't bury his victims. He hangs them up. On hooks."

Kenny stares at him. Fair enough, so do I. He stares back, and with those huge eyes of his Zack has never lost a staring contest in his life.

"What?" he says. "I read stuff."

= = =

Kenny keeps up with his Zack-Is-A-Serial-Killer thing for a while after that, because Kenny never knows when to stop. I don't pay much attention to them, just get on with my work and wait for him to get bored or for Steve to kick him out of the shop, which he does about once a week.

This goes on for a while, until a motorcycle pulls up outside. That distracts them.

There's a girl riding it. That distracts them more.