Authors: Wicked Pleasure
Published by WickedPleasure.net
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
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. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
Copyright © 2012 Wallcleaver
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Table of Contents
There's No Place Like Home 2
"Brother & Sister Erotic Coming of Age"
- is too racy for Amazon and is currently available on Barnes & Noble.
eter and Jenny Foster were holding each other, hiding in Peter’s room. This was a regular occurrence; they were staying out of the way of their parents who were again engaging in one of their epic battles. Unfortunately, these battles were becoming more frequent and the intensity was ramping up each time a new battle was fought. Peter had always tried to protect his sister, even at 8 they found their only comfort with the other. They knew that the shouting, screaming, and occasional hurled object would end sometime, but both were frightened that this happened so often.
"You think you can do better? Fine, you go right ahead! I’m out of here!" their father said.
"And stay out!" Irene retorted.
They heard the sound of the front door slam and the arguing was over, but not the repercussions. Each knew it would take their mother time to settle down and during that time she would do her own yelling and often slam this or break that. Peter and jenny continued to hold the other waiting for the end of her rant, they knew better than to be close to her before she had calmed fully.
Peter and his sister never saw their father again, apparently he had meant what he said. Irene continued to bad mouth him as they grew, but her tirades became less frequent, at least those directed toward him. She ruled their house with an iron fist and a quick leather strap. Both children had felt its sting and had learned quickly not to do anything to set their mother off. That was often easier to say than do, Irene was always moody and might be quoting scripture one minute and spewing vitriol and invective the next. Try as they might, the siblings could never pinpoint what would trigger her episodes so worked hard to do as she asked while minimizing the time they spent in her presence.
They were now 19 and had no idea of what they would have for a future. Their mother had kept them sheltered for most of their life, not wanting them to be corrupted by the influences of the outside world. She had removed them from school many years earlier, opting for home schooling, but she was not motivated to put much effort into their studies. They had taught themselves and each other the basics of reading, writing and math but had minimal social skills and no experience with anything that went on outside their little circle of life. They lived in a rural section of northern Florida and had little contact with others. There were few neighbors and even fewer with children anywhere close to their age.
They had chores to do during the day, but nights at home were left for family time even though they had a miserable family life. Their mother liked to pretend they were a happy family and woe be the child who disagreed with her opinion. They had a TV that worked at one time, but in one of her fits, their mother had thrown a brick through the picture tube, saying the content of the programs was bad for her children. The TV still sat where it had been, the brick still in the center of the box with glass shards all round it. The children had little love for their mother although they would not be able to express that fact lest she become enraged and strike out with her strap. She maintained her place as head of the house not with love but with fear and intimidation.
Peter was in the yard, running the lawn mower over the weeds. They had little grass, but he needed to keep the undergrowth near the house low to prevent snakes and other critters from hiding there and possibly getting into the house. It was a hot day, but he was used to doing physical labor in the Florida sun, so continued with his job, knowing that his mother would not be happy with a minimal effort. Once finished with the job, he turned off the mower and pushed it back to the shed where it would be waiting for him to do this again in a week.
"Noooo! Stop!" he heard from the house. Peter knew his sister’s voice and it sounded as though she was in real danger. He knew that his mother might not like it, but he ran into the house at full speed, not stopping to wipe his feet or brush off his pants.
"You little hussy! I didn’t work my ass off to see you turn into a Jezebel, a painted woman whoring herself to anyone with a penis!"
Peter looked on in horror as he saw his mother, a 10 inch kitchen knife in her hand, swinging it wildly and cutting off handfuls of his sister’s long hair.
"I didn’t do anything. I’m sorry, I didn’t think…" Jenny whined, fear in her eyes as she saw the blade coming at her again.
"I’ll teach you to disobey my rules. You think you can do what you want? You have another thing coming, you little harlot." Irene ranted, the light glinting off the blade as she swung it wildly.
Peter looked at what was happening and although he did not know what had set his mother off, he could see from her actions that she was even more out of control than he had seen in the past. He looked at all of his sister’s long hair on the floor, she was almost completely shorn now but his mother was still swinging the knife at her head.
"Stop! Leave her alone!" he shouted, knowing that this would only bring her anger down on him, but better that than she continue to attack his sister.
"So, you think you can protect her this time?"
Peter’s mother turned away from Jenny and moved slowly toward Peter, holding the knife menacingly as she got closer. He could see the look in her eyes and knew she was totally out of control. He had seen her mad in the past, but this was like nothing he had ever experienced before.
"You think I don’t know that you try to protect her when she does something wrong? You’re not going to be able to do anything for her any more."
Peter kept his eyes on the knife as he backed away from his mother. She was now swinging it from side to side, getting closer to him as she approached. Peter was backing away but did not realize his mother was guiding him into a corner where he would have no escape.
"I suppose you knew all about this and didn’t do anything to stop her. You didn’t even tell me, you just let her do what she wanted regardless of what I might think. You two have been nothing but trouble all your lives. Maybe I should do something about that right here and now." She said with a sinister edge to her words.