Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  I feel a monster for this consideration, but I knew that it was both desirable and necessary.

  Now I must be explicit. Any who read this will be descendants of ours, and they must know what is to be done. Even if it shocks them. To me what happened may have been unnatural, but I would be a liar if I said that I did not enjoy and welcome it.

  We went to the rock that night. There was no reason nor excuse to delay. It had to be done, or more would share Margaret's fate. Rachel wore but a simple shift and I my breeches and shirt. It was unseasonably warm for the autumn, and I was grateful for it.

  The Ancients were there, in the night. Before we had merely glimpsed them moving in the tree-line, and thought their eyes to be ignis fatuus. Now they were in plain sight and much closer. Rachel shivered and moved closer to me, and I instinctively put my arm around her. She pressed her body to mine, and I must confess that I felt a stronger desire for her at that moment than I have felt for any woman before or since. Her scent drove any thought of daemons and spirits from my mind. I craved her. I felt her small hand settle on my chest and explored me slowly, tentatively making its way down to my breeches.

  I moaned as my sister lightly brushed and then more firmly grasped my manhood from outside my clothes. Rachel moaned and looked at me, and we kissed. No chaste church wedding kiss was this; I was savage with her, pulling her to me and eliciting soft whimpers. I had always tried to treat my sisters with kindness, but there was no mercy left within me. I would have her. No protest from her would matter, nor would she stop if I begged her. We were lost.

  From around us, a great shuddering moan vibrated the very air. Such power! I felt it infusing me, entering me, using me as its vessel. They were not gentle. I understood why my bloodline has long bargained with such creatures. There is no opposing them. There is only death, or perhaps profiting from their beneficence.

  Rachel looked at me, fear and lust warring across her delicate features. I understood. These things wanted her, desperately. Had there been no vessel they still would have taken her, but she would not have survived. She realized, however, what she must do. She took my hand and smiled on me, as pretty and calm as a fae lady carrying away a farmhand. I could no longer persist as a conscious being and was filled with too much unholy will to do what must be done on my own.

  At last, we reached the rock. But it was no rock. It was an altar. They had placed it here, before even the first man arrived here, to await and demand the worship and sacrifice of those who would come. The Ancients were not of us or our meager firmament. They came and did as they wish, as we might raise the calf and later demand its slaughter.

  My attention was drawn back to Rachel, who gently but insistently pulled my shirt above my head. I complied and even groaned as she ran her hands over my chest. I was the first such man she had felt in this intimate fashion, I was sure of it. I thought of filling my own sister with my seed, and I was nearly overwhelmed with cries of desire, that were not made outside of me rather within. I felt her small hands unbuttoning my breaches and pulling them down. She gasped as my manhood sprung free. I smiled, feeling proud as all men must when a beautiful woman admires them and finds them pleasing. She gripped my cock, almost harshly, and I shuddered.

  Rachel then stood back, aware that I was exposed and vulnerable to the wind and her eyes. She loosened the laces of her shift, perhaps aware that this was the moment when she became a woman, then let it drop from her shoulders, fluttering slightly in the cool breeze. She covered herself immediately, but I saw her form. It was winsome and pale and delightful. The curve of hip and swell of breast were, to me, perfect. Her smooth skin broke out in gooseflesh, and she took a deep breath as she prepared herself for her first mounting.

  Rachel shivered as she sat upon the rock, but she looked up at me, and there was true longing in her eyes. I wondered for the first time if she had perhaps seen me differently and desired me for a long time. As she put her hands behind her to support herself, she released her breasts which swung freely, and I found them to be most satisfying. Then she parted her legs, and I saw her womanhood, surrounded by dark hair, glistening in the moonlight. Such a vulgar show should disgust my morals, but I was inflamed by it. I could never be disgusted by Rachel, in any case.

  She extended her hand to me, beckoning me to her. I went, aware that even then I was leaking from my cock. I mounted her then. God save us both, I mounted my own sister and made her a woman, and she moaned beneath me. Even in such dire pain as I was, for make to mistake, this rite is painful, I lost myself swiftly, for I was overly aroused. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of the act or the love I held for her, or even merely that I found her fine and beautiful. In any case, I thrust in her again and again, unable to control or stop myself. Rachel, blessed Rachel, gripped my flanks tightly with her legs, whispering her love to me in my ears, encouraging me to take my full measure of pleasure from her willing warmth. I did so, calling her name as she shuddered around my manhood. My seed filled her and spilled out upon the rock, and we both lay there, sated .

  I know that my love was too fierce. After we returned home and shared a bed, I kissed the bruises on her thighs softly as she told me how proud she is of them. I know that I should fear damnation for this act, and for the times after that I have lain with her, but I feel only anticipation and increased desire. I suppose it is for the best.

  I believe that my sister is expecting now. We will soon leave and start anew elsewhere as "husband and wife," returning only to renew our pact upon the stone. I know not what the future holds but I will cherish her and raise any children with love and care. We will find happiness together, and god...or Ancients...willing, she will bear fruit that will pass down upon the generations.

  May God have mercy upon us for what we have wrought.

  * * *

  Release

  * * *

  [b]June 7th, 1985 - The Night of Sacrifice[/b]

  "Does this mean that Mom and Dad are brother and sister?"

  It was my first thought even though we had bigger concerns. I had to ask even though I knew the answer. Ashley thought for a moment.

  "I think so. And I think Mom loves Dad like I love you."

  It took me a long moment, and finally, I turned to look at Ashley. She blushed fiercely but didn't look away. Even then it took me a moment to understand what had happened. Our parents were brother and sister, and my sister had just confessed her love to me. I felt suddenly like a coward again. I loved her, and she needed me, and I was too afraid to tell her the truth. Before I could reply, Ashley spoke again, quickly blocking any possibility of rejection. Not that there was any.

  "It's a lot to ask of you."

  Ashley must have seen me pause, deep in thought about the revelations of the last few minutes. I looked up at her, into her eyes, expecting fear or revulsion. But I saw only my own feelings reflected: deep care and hungry desire. She took my silence as denial.

  "There are other journals here, too. Mom's note told me where to find them in her room. Some are much more recent. But this was the one she wanted me to read. I know what has to be done now...and so do you. I won't blame you if you refuse but...I know you want me. I want you too. I want you to take my virginity, and if it has to be on that rock, I won't care. I'll take you any way you want. I've dreamed about it before. I'll be a good...a good wife to you, John. I can be that if you let me. Or a mistress, if you want."

  I looked at Ashley, right in the eyes. She blushed, obviously uncomfortable, but there was no easy way to say this, so I went with the blunt truth.

  "Even if this isn't true, if we stay another night here, we're going to end up fucking."

  It wasn't a question. Things had been intensifying between us, every hour. It was like being in a pressure cooker, and neither of us wanted to back off. I felt, and I'm sure that she did too, but it wouldn't stop us. I knew that now. Ashley just nodded and looked away.

  "So," I continued, "I guess it doesn't matter whether we do it in here or out on the
rock does it? I mean...I believe you. And the book. I've seen the eyes, too. But more than that, I want you, Ashley. And I'm going to have you tonight."

  Ashley bit her lip and leaned into me, for a moment but stopped herself.

  "No," she said, "If we start in here we won't stop. It has to be out there on that goddamned rock so they can...witness it. And feel it. I know that's what this is about. They're going to use you, John. And it's going to hurt. The book barely mentioned it, but others did. It's described as being intense and worse than..."

  "So what," I said, without thinking.

  "So what? I know you want to help me...and get laid, but it might really hurt you! More than before! I think the book downplays it so that people will go through with it, so others don't suffer, but..."

  "If I don't do it, you're going to hurt a lot worse. And probably die. So it'll hurt. You're worth it. And I need to be inside you tonight. This isn't just selfless sacrifice."

  Ashley stood up, and I did too. She pecked me on the cheek, oddly chaste given what we'd done and were planning on doing.

  "I'm going to, uh, get ready. I know its silly but...I kind of want things to be a little special, even if this whole thing is weird. Give me five minutes, ok?"

  Ashley ran upstairs, and I went to the downstairs bathroom. There wasn't much to be done, but I agreed with her: I wanted this to be special. I needed it to be. To prove that we weren't just sick, that we were part of something more significant, and older than us. More importantly, I wanted Ashley to know that I truly loved her. I wanted to prove that to those things out there too.

  Just because my ancestors were foolish enough to deal with them, didn't mean that we were their puppets. We'd keep the deal. But it would be for ourselves and our children. Not for their hungers. Not out of fear of them.

  We didn't have a lot of time. I washed myself off in the downstairs bathroom. There was an odd sense of finality to it, as though I was preparing myself for my own funeral. When I was done, I put on shorts and nothing else. I had lost my virginity some time ago. I'd stood up to some surly drunks when my friend was getting ganged up on, and taken a beating for it. I'd turned eighteen two years prior. But this was the first time that I felt like a man, and a brave one at that. Seeing myself how Ash saw me made me strive to be a better person.

  When Ash came down the stairs, my breath caught in my throat. She wore yet another thing that I'd never seen. It was simple, a shift, thin and cotton. Maybe to be worn over a swimsuit. It draped over her, hugging her curves as she walked barefoot down each step. She moved slowly, and with purpose. There was something different about her, and I realized that I did not see a trace of a girl here. She was undoubtedly Ashley, but she was entirely and utterly woman. She came to the bottom of the step and swayed over to me. I realized then that she was seducing me, indeed. I was helpless before her, and I did not mind. There was no fear in her eyes, only adoration, respect, and submission. She held her hands out. I took them in mine and kissed her simply, softly on the lips.

  We said no vows, but both of us recognize that moment as our wedding. It's not exactly Christian, but then neither are we.

  Ashley took my arm, and we walked out into the night together. It was too dark for an early summer's eve. There was no trace of the recently set sun, and we were lit only by flickering lightning coursing through the high clouds that had settled in without our knowledge. There was no thunder.

  And all around us, the eyes. Deep purples and unnatural greens and unholy reds. They drifted all around us, their hunger barely held in check. They were many things, these creatures, but they were not liars. If we upheld our end of the bargain, they would not kill Ashley. They would grant our family prosperity. Still, I felt Ashley's small hands tighten on my arm. I wondered if it was out of fear of them or concern for me. It didn't matter.

  I felt it then, as my cock surged to hardness for what I was about to do, what I'd wanted to do for so long, struck me. At the same time, the pain started. It was like a backache at first, not severe, just a dim throb. As we reached the lake and headed toward the rock, it became a stabbing pain. I made a noise between a cough and a moan. Ash looked at me and said nothing.

  It hit full on when we reached the rock. I knew then that their hands and minds were inside me. They saw through my eyes and felt through my skin. Perhaps I should have been sickened by it, but there was too much sensation to think about such things. Deep within me, fire and ice warred to decide which would hurt me more. I stumbled to my knees there, on the rock.

  "John!"

  Ashley stumbled with me but kept me from falling further. I held her too me, first as support, but then as strength returned to me, I crushed her small form to mine. She whimpered as I buried my head in her breasts.

  "Now," was all I could say, almost growling from pain and want, "now!"

  Ashley stepped back then, and I almost cried out in frustration. But she slipped the shift of her shoulders, and let it slowly drift down her body, exposing her perfect form to me, as if for the first time. She cocked one hip, and it was without any doubt the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. I thought she was teasing me, but I realized then that she was afraid. This was her first time, with any man, and the need in my eyes must have been frightening to her as well. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I couldn't rid myself of the pain, so I let it be. I held my hand out to her, inviting, not demanding her. She smiled then, and even in the light of those goddamned eyes, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

  I stood. I didn't have to, not really, but I wanted to show Ash that I was ok. It was just pain. It wasn't death, and it certainly was far better than what happened to Margaret. I would bear it for her. I would bear anything for her. I pulled my shorts off and stepped out of them, pleased with how her eyes grew wider.

  Ash drifted into my arms, briefly, then slowly got to her knees and lay down on her back. She fit into the small basin there perfectly, as if it had been made for her body. I saw her relax into it, pass her hands along the smooth rock to her sides. Then she looked at me, still so shy, and nodded. As I knelt and moved over her, she parted her legs. She relaxed then, and I saw that she had submitted to me with complete trust. I winced as the pain grew sharper, more demanding. Fuck them. I was going to make this right for her.

  I needn't have worried about rushing. One hand went to my neck, and the other passed over my chest and onto my back, and Ash pulled me. She had run out of control, out of will. She needed to be fucked by her brother. By me. Her legs, more flexible than I expected, began to wrap around mine, her heels digging into the back of my thighs, pleading to be penetrated with her whole body.

  I kissed Ash as I positioned myself and slowly entered her. God, she was tight. I know I sighed as I slid further within her. She was more than just tight. She was perfect for me in every way, and my cock filled her the way she needed. She was wet and swollen and so very ready. Her back arched as I bottomed out, and to my surprise, I saw that she was in the throes of a small orgasm. I forced myself to breathe, balancing out the pain and need. Letting them flow together. I began to move.

  Ash was no passive participant. She may have eagerly submitted, but she wasn't going to sit there and get fucked. She rolled her hips into me, resisted as I withdrew and pulled me hard back into her. Soon we moved together, in harmony. Accelerating gradually and naturally but not quickly.

  "Fuck, John...you feel so good, baby..."

  I merely grunted, having difficulty focusing. I didn't want to cum yet and the pain, god the pain. Would it even let me? It was getting worse. I'd never had a heart attack, but I imagined that it would feel much like this. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw as I grew lightheaded.

  No! Not now. I had to finish this. I needed her, and I needed to finish inside her, and I couldn't even remember why. There was just so much pain. I just wanted to stop and to make it stop.

  Ash touched my face then, gently. I opened my eyes and saw her looking at me with such sorrow and sympathy an
d love. She was still close to cumming, I could tell, but it didn't matter to her.

  "It's all right, John. You can stop. You've done..."

  I kissed her then, silencing her kind but self-destructive offer. No. I regained myself and began to fuck her hard. If I had to suffer, perhaps she could bear some of it too. I hoped so. I mauled her neck, bit and nipped at it. She whimpered and cried, but clung to me tighter and tighter. Finally, thunder rolled across the clouds.

  Then she came, hard. Harder than I'd ever made any woman cum. Her body writhed and shook, almost unnaturally, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. She tensed again, relaxed, again, her body a puppet moving on strings of pleasure. The pain spiked again, but it didn't matter. I lived only to make her cum.

  This went on for longer than either of us understood. Over and over again, she shook, but each time a little less. She was exhausted now, practically limp, but still conscious. Still lost in pleasure as I kissed her mouth and her tongue danced with mine. The first cold drops of rain hit me then, triggering something in me long held back. I looked her in the eyes as I came.

  I buried myself inside of Ash. I wanted nothing but that, nothing but for my sister to be full of my cum and to be marked as mine. She was my mate, my wife, no one else's. She was meant for me and me alone. And my cock pulsed again and again, filling her with my sticky seed, and still pumping when there was nothing left. The rain was pouring now, drenching us both. She came one final time as well, much more gently, as a sigh worked through her body.

  The things came too. I know because it hurt worse than anything that had happened before. I blacked out as what felt like long knives drove themselves through my back and into my chest.