The Sibling’s Compassion

It was ten years ago, but the memories still haunt me like a fever dream. I was 22, a handsome young man with a hunger for flesh that couldn’t be sated. My two little sisters, Lily and Rose, were mere teenagers at the time, blossoming into beautiful women before my very eyes. I couldn’t help myself; I wanted them, I needed them.

One fateful evening, as they lay in bed, I crept into their room, my heart pounding with anticipation. Lily stirred first, her eyes fluttering open as she saw me looming over her. “Jake? What are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I tore off her nightgown, revealing her pert breasts and the soft curls between her legs. She gasped, trying to cover herself, but I was too quick. I pinned her down, my hands roaming her body, feeling every inch of her soft skin.

“Jake, please,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t do this.”

But I couldn’t stop. I was consumed by my own desires, my own needs. I entered her roughly, ignoring her cries of pain as I took what I wanted. She squirmed beneath me, trying to push me off, but it was no use. I was too strong, too determined.

As I thrust into her, I heard Rose stirring. She sat up, her eyes wide with horror as she saw what was happening. “Stop!” she screamed, trying to pull me off Lily. But I pushed her away, sending her crashing to the floor.

I continued to ravage Lily, my hips slamming into hers as I chased my own pleasure. She sobbed beneath me, her body shaking with each thrust. Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, I spilled myself inside her, marking her as mine.

I rolled off her, my chest heaving, as Lily curled into a ball, her body wracked with silent sobs. Rose stared at me in disgust, her eyes filled with tears. “How could you?” she whispered. “You’re our brother.”

I just smirked at her, already feeling the stirrings of desire for her body. “I’m the man of the house,” I growled. “And you’ll both do as I say.”

Over the next few weeks, I made them submit to me time and time again. I’d barge into their room in the middle of the night, tearing off their clothes and forcing myself on them. They’d cry and beg me to stop, but I never did. I couldn’t. The taste of their fear, the feeling of their resistance, only made me want them more.

Lily was always my favorite. Her body was so soft, so yielding, so perfectly made for my pleasure. I’d take her in every room of the house, in every position imaginable. I’d make her suck my cock until she gagged, until tears streamed down her face. And when I was done with her, I’d move on to Rose, using her just as roughly, just as mercilessly.

But one day, everything changed. I was in the middle of fucking Lily, my hands wrapped around her throat as I pounded into her, when I heard a noise behind me. I turned to see our mother standing in the doorway, her face pale with shock.

“Jake,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

I smirked at her, my cock still buried deep inside Lily. “What does it look like I’m doing, Mom?” I growled. “I’m fucking my little sister, just like I’ve been doing for weeks.”

Mom’s eyes widened in horror, and she stumbled back, her hand flying to her mouth. “No,” she whimpered. “No, it can’t be true.”

But it was true. And as she turned to run, I knew I couldn’t let her go. I had to make her mine too.

I pulled out of Lily, leaving her lying in a pool of our mingled fluids, and stalked towards Mom. She tried to run, but I was too quick. I grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back as I shoved her against the wall.

“Please, Jake,” she begged, her voice muffled by the wallpaper. “Don’t do this.”

But I was beyond reason, beyond mercy. I tore off her clothes, exposing her mature body to my hungry gaze. She was older than my sisters, but still beautiful, still desirable. And as I entered her, I knew I’d never let her go.

I fucked her hard, just like I’d fucked my sisters. I pounded into her, grunting and groaning as I chased my own pleasure. She sobbed beneath me, her body shaking with each thrust. But I didn’t care. All that mattered was my own satisfaction.

And when I was done, when I’d filled her with my seed, I knew I had to make it official. I had to make them all mine, once and for all.

I dragged them all to the living room, forcing them to kneel before me. They were naked, their bodies marked with the evidence of my desire. I stood over them, my cock still hard and ready for more.

“This is how it’s going to be from now on,” I growled. “You’re all mine, my personal fuck toys. You’ll do whatever I say, whenever I say it. Understand?”

They nodded, their eyes filled with fear and resignation. They knew they had no choice. They were mine now, forever and always.

And so began a new era in our household. I fucked them whenever I wanted, in whatever way I wanted. I’d take them one by one, or all at once, using them until they couldn’t walk, until they could barely breathe. I’d make them suck my cock, lick my balls, even shit on my dick if I asked them to.

But my favorite thing was to have them all at once. I’d lay them out on the floor, their legs spread, their pussies wet and ready for me. And then I’d fuck them, one after the other, until I was spent. I’d leave them lying in a puddle of my cum, their bodies aching and sore.

It was the perfect life. I had three beautiful women at my beck and call, ready to satisfy my every whim. And they knew better than to resist. They’d learned their lesson the hard way.

But even the best things must come to an end. One day, as I was in the middle of fucking Lily, I heard a knock at the door. I ignored it, too lost in my own pleasure to care. But the knocking continued, growing louder and more insistent.

With a grunt of frustration, I pulled out of Lily and went to answer the door. And there, standing on the porch, was a police officer. He looked at me, his eyes widening as he took in my naked body, the cum still dripping from my cock.

“Jake Thompson?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re under arrest for the rape and assault of your sisters and mother.”

I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Rape?” I scoffed. “They’re mine. They’ve always been mine.”

But the officer didn’t care. He cuffed me and dragged me away, leaving my family behind. And as I sat in that cold, hard cell, I knew I’d never see them again.

But I didn’t care. Because I had the memories, the knowledge that I’d had them all, that I’d used them in ways no one else ever could. And that was enough for me.