Ezra Peabody's Black Snakeshine


Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Heterosexual, Humor, Incest, Father, Uncle, Interracial, Oral Sex, .

Desc: Incest Sex Story: They were in the missionary position, with him pounding her ass into the mattress and her squealing like a stuck pig, when they both heard someone call from the front room of the house. It sounded to them like the man's brother, Jedidiah Peabody. "Where you at, Ezra?" he was calling. Thus begins this incestuous tale of Ezra Peabody's Black Snakeshine, his homemade 'shine, the same 'shine that'll have you seeing snakes everywhere. With good or bad in the offing.

WARNING: This story is an act of fiction that contains graphic sexual descriptions and language. If you are a minor (under 21) or if you are offended by this kind of material then you should stop reading now. Any resemblance between this story and a real event is purely coincidental. The participants are imaginary; their actions have no negative consequences other than those portrayed in the story. The story is intended for entertainment only and should not be emulated in the real world.

They were in the missionary position, with him pounding her ass into the mattress and she squealing like a stuck pig, when they both heard someone call from the front room of the house. It sounded to them like the man's brother, Jedidiah Peabody. "Where you at, Ez?" he was calling.

Ezra Peabody, quite besotted by booze, moonshine booze at that, rolled off of her, scrambled out of the bed, stumbled to the door, opened it, went through, and slammed it behind him. Ellie Mae just lay there, cringing, her knees now drawn up to her chest, both arms squeezed around them.

Whatever tears she had spilled previously were now dry on her cheeks. She looked wretched, the way most young girls would look who had just been raped by a man.

"Jed, you old skinflint," Ezra said, trying hard for amiable. "Whatcha doin' comin' 'round here this time of night? Your fatass wife throw ya out agin?" He grinned, forgetting he had his teeth out.

"Who'ya got in there, Ez?" Jed said, grinning back at him.

"In where?" He honestly didn't know what Jed meant by the stupid sounding question.

"In Ellie Mae's bedroom, you dumb fucker. You got one of the Manny's bar ladies in there? Or have you taken a fair shine to street hags in yer old age?" He stared at his brother, awaiting the answer.

It was obvious to Jed, just by looking at the man, that his brother Ezra wasn't thinking quite right, especially so when he ups and answers, "Ain't no one in there but Ellie Mae. It's her room, dontchya know?"

"That right? No one in there but Ellie Mae? Well, now, what's up, Ez? You're standin' there as naked as the day our sweet mamma birthday'd you, with yer dick all slicked up, just a-shinin' like a new moon!" Jed grinned at Ezra. "You up to no good, Ezra, my younger brother?" He grinned again.

Ezra looked down at himself. It was true, his dick, half-hard as it was, was all shiny and covered with pussy juice. He might have felt a little bit of shame, but the booze in him didn't leave any room for that emotion to get in. So he said, as he walked over to fetch the robe he always left hanging on the back of his bedroom door:

"If'n yer up for some of my homemade 'shine, Jed, I'll tell yer all 'bout it." He reached behind the door, extracted the ratty shit brown colored bathrobe, and put it on. He felt less naked now, but still naked nonetheless. He took his false teeth out of the robe's pocket and popped them into his mouth. Now he felt more clothed.

"Now, Ezra, you well know I only drink your homemade moon on two occasions. When I'm alone or when I'm with someone. So, start a-pouring, Ez, for this appears to be one of those rare occasions!" He laughed as Ezra went to fetch the large, brown moonshine jug he used to store his best 'shine in. His fit-for-guests 'shine. His finest 'shine that some folks most respectfully called, Ezra Peabody's Black Snakeshine.

After just a few swigs, the locals called them pulls, of Ezra's Black Snakeshine, you were seeing big black snakes every where. Everywhere!

And, so the local legend went, if any of them grinned at you, you were in for a spell of good luck. Really good luck, the kind that lets your crops grow while everyone else's are dying from the drought.

But don't you lie about it, as any townfolk will tell you, and say they were a-grinning at you when they really weren't, because then bad luck, real bad luck, really, really bad luck, would git ya! They would then tell you what happened to poor Hannah Crumpie, if you had a mind to want to know. And even if you didn't, they'd tell you anyhow.

Poor Hannah Crumpie! Sixteen years old when it happened. She had gotten her curious hands on a full jug of Pa Crumpie's recently boought Black Snakeshine by running across it in the barn where he had hidden it behind a hay bale. To keep it from young'uns and any adult with a thirst in him. He didn't mind sharing, mind you, not too much anyway, but he liked it better when it was his decision to share.

After the proverbial few pulls, poor Hannah was smashed Hannah. Started running around the barn, pulling all her clothing off. Then, sweet and naked, she headed for town! On the way, she ran into the widow Wylie, a kindly old woman who might or might not be a witch, according to whose tale you chose to believe.

The widow Wylie tried to stop the girl, reason with her, drive some sense into her silly girlish head and warn her of the trouble could come from running buck naked in the woods at night, but Hannah was too far gone to hear the old lady.

Hannah, her eyes glazed over, simply said to the widow Wylie, "I've seen the big black snakes, widda, so no harm will come to me this night! It's my night t'howl, widda Wylie!" With that said, Hannah was off and running down the path, howling like a lone wolf on a full moon night.

They found her the next morning. Well, to be more accurate, farmer Mackey found her first, while he was plowing his lower forty. Almost threshed her up, but only almost. Missed by a foot. Which wouldn't have hurt her, anyhow, seeing she was quite dead at the time. Then the rumor mill took over.

She had been found just as naked as the widow Wylie had seen her and, according to Doc Hanson's autopsy, had been raped and had had her throat cut from ear to ear. Tufts of wolf fur were also found all over her naked corpse.

That was the scientific explanation of events, but folks in these parts are not what one would call scientifically minded. They preferred the widow Wylie's explanation. It was far easier to understand and believe, for there hadn't been a rape in these parts in over sixty years. To anyone who would listen, the widow Wylie would spin her little tale:

"The Black Snakeshine got her! Mark my word! Told me herself, Hannah did, that she saw the snakes, but I could see it in her eyes she was a-fibbing! The eyes never lie, dontcha know? And since she was nekkid, as nekked as a jaybird, I knew what she was up to!" She'd cackle here, her point made, letting the story stew a little.

"Oh, yes'um, she didn't fool me one little bit, that brazen hussy! She was just looking for an excuse, any excuse, to go foolin' with any boy who happened upon her that night." She'd wink here at the listener as if sharing a deep, dark secret. She liked winking. It made her stories more conspiratorial in nature. A shared telling was her passion.

"And Hannah didn't run into any ol' boy that night, no sirree! Oh, she sure met someone who was in a mood to hanky-panky, all right, but he was no mere mortal!" She'd pause to make the cross sign on her chest and also to let it all sink in. "He was... a werewolf! You heard me right, he was one of those Godless creatures of the night. The Doc, hisself, found the beast's fur all over her, bless her poor soul!" She would then cross herself again before going on.

"And, as any fool with half a mind would know, he fornicated with her all night long, until the sunrise, using that well-known monstrously large private part of his on her before taking the poor dear's life and turning her soul into one of them. Mark my word, if they look real good, they'll find wolf spill inside her! Mark my word." She'd then wink again as if she had just told you something she hadn't told to anyone else in the world.

But that was then and this is now.

They sat at the dining table, with both their cups full of Black Snakeshine.

Jed took a short pull and started the ball rolling. "I got a feelin' in me, Ez, I'm gonna like your story!" He grinned at him. Ezra Peabody then took a healthy pull on his own cup. He felt the warm glow feeling hit him almost immediately. I do make good Snake, he thought, even if'n I say so myself. Jed read his mind and said:

"Mmmm, your Snake is especially fine tastin' tonight, my brother." He took another short pull, waiting for his brother's interesting tale to unfold.

"Well, Jed, my blood kin, I guess'n I should start at the start. As you know Ellie Mae's ma is at her sister's place for her usual weekly visit and won't be home 'til Sunday evening. And you know how's I like to watch me some of them porny tapes I get in the mail on that new-fangled VCR Nellie just insisted we had to have in spite of it costin' a arm and a leg." He paused, getting his breath renewed. The two men each took another pull.

"Well, I had just got me a new one in, so's I was a-watching it, ya know, when I thought my old heart would just up and stop on me! There she was, right there on the fuckin' TV screen big as life, as nekkid as a baby, and having sex with four men, one of them a big ass black guy with a cock as long as my arm!" He held his arm out to make the point.

He banged his fist on the table and said, "Ellie Mae, my Ellie Mae!" He banged his fist again. "That tramp cunt Ellie Mae, whose tramp cunt ass is now right there in her room just a-waiting my wrath. And, boy, is she gonna git it tonight!" His face was livid and as red as a beet.

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