Their Sister’s Candy

Description

I’ve been living—and sleeping—with my brothers, the lumberjack twins, for over a month now, and the other brothers are starting to show up.

First we had the somnophiliac and then we had the carpenter, but now it’s Caleb’s turn, and I have no idea what he’s into.

The problem is even after he leaves, I don’t know what he’s into. I don’t even remember him being here. The last thing I remember was the twins giving me a soda that tasted kind of funny. Now it’s the next day, and I’m sore and filthy and have no idea what happened.

But the twins know, and they recorded the whole thing so I can see for myself.

Age gap incest with mind control and adult breastfeeding. All characters 18+.

My words are all my own, but my covers are AI. I’m not a fan of generative AI in general, but no model deserves to be linked to this trash story.

Sample

I wake feeling a little groggier than usual and way more bruised and sore, like I went too hard at the gym and then decided to go party all night. I guess that would make sense if I’d done either of those things, but I didn’t. I live in a cabin on the side of a mountain. I do manual labor every day, so I don’t really feel the need to exercise deliberately. I don’t even know where the nearest club is.

I look to either side of me in my bed and discover I don’t know where my brothers, Devin and Lucas—the twins—are, either. This is one of the first nights they haven’t shared a bed with me since we became lovers. What’s even weirder is on the few nights that I haven’t slept with them, I’ve slept in my full-sized bed. This is their gigantic bed. I think it’s a custom. I’m in the middle of it, like usual, and I have to roll a couple times to get to the side to get up.

My first step is wobbly. I have to hold the bed to keep from falling. When I try to walk, I’m bow-legged. I can barely walk, and my head is swimmy. I’m wondering if I’ve just woken from some crazy illness, but no. I’ve definitely been fucked recently.

A lot.

Cum is sliding down the inside of my legs, and the one thing that doesn’t ache too much is my tits. They’ve been drained, but there’s the familiar sheen and stickiness left behind by saliva.

Man saliva.

Also, my breath tastes like cum.

I should clean myself up, at least throw a robe on or something and definitely brush my teeth, but I stumble out of the bedroom naked. Anything else is too much work.

I make it all the way to the kitchen before finding Devin, who’s throwing a pile of chopped-up potatoes into the crock pot. He’s a giant, a foot taller than me with bulging muscles from training for lumberjack competitions and a deep red, wild beard and hair, whereas I ended up slim with pale strawberry blonde curls, but he looks natural holding his kitchen knife and donning a chef’s apron. Despite the fact that I’m clearly wrecked, he gives me the biggest, dopiest smile. Devin is mercurial. He’s only happy when he’s milk drunk, so it’s definitely his slobber all over my boobs.

I lean against the wall to hold myself up, fending myself off from the shivers by wrapping my arms around myself. With the lack of clothing, though, it’s basically useless.

“What do you remember last?” he asks, but he says it in a voice that sounds more like I fell asleep during a movie than I’m absolutely fucking trashed. It’s a fair question, though. What do I remember last?

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