A Submissive Sibling
Copyright© 2025 by H. Malcom Walker
Chapter 8: The Aftermath
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 8: The Aftermath - Mark and his sister Carrie have always gotten along well, even if she likes to tease him a little too much. A surprising DNA result leads to lines being crossed. Discover the taboo journey of two siblings caught in a web of desire and consequences.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Incest Brother Sister FemaleDom Humiliation Anal Sex Masturbation Oral Sex Pegging Sex Toys Illustrated
Many years later, I was able to laugh a little about what happened immediately after I heard my father yelling from the bedroom door. At the time, however, it was absolutely terrifying. For a few heartbeats, nothing happened. Carrie sat up and we both stared over at our parents like deer caught in the headlights.
I held my left hand up towards my father, palm out. “Dad, wait,” I said, but he was already charging across the rug towards the bed, bellowing with rage. My mom started wailing in anguish, reaching out with both hands like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
I don’t know for sure who would have won a fight between me and my dad that day, but I wasn’t ready to find out. I started scrambling towards the other side of the bed just as he started lunging towards me. Carrie was screaming, “Daddy, no!” just as I slid off on the side, with Dad grasping at my feet.
That left Dad on his knees in the middle of the bed with me standing there facing him. “Come here, you raping asshole!” he screamed. Mom had come running into the room and was trying to grab Carrie by the arm. “Carrie! Come with me, baby! Come with me!”
Carrie was fending her off while trying to grab Dad by the arm. He turned towards her and shouted, “Go with your mother!” I took the opportunity to run around the bed and out of the room as fast as I could. I was still butt-ass naked, so all I could think about was getting some clothes. I ran across the hall and into my room, stopping long enough to lock the door.
I looked around frantically and saw my underwear and robe laying on the floor from this morning. I practically jumped into the underwear with both feet and started putting my arms into the robe. At that moment I heard someone try the knob on the door then the sound of a palm slamming into the wood.
“Mark! You open this fucking door right now! Mark!” my father bellowed as he continued to bang on the door.
My fingers fumbled with the robe’s sash, my breath coming in shallow gasps as the pounding on the door grew louder and more desperate. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I muttered to myself, my voice trembling. The door shook with another forceful slam, and I flinched, certain he was going to kick it in. But before I could fully secure the robe, the noise abruptly stopped. The silence that followed was worse than the yelling.
I froze, listening to the muffled voices in the hallway. Carrie’s voice, high and frantic, pleading with Mom. Dad’s voice, low and venomous. Then, footsteps approaching ... and Mom’s, softer, hesitant voice.
“Mark,” she said, her tone trembling. “Please, just ... come out. We need to talk. Please.”
I glanced at the door, then at the robe. My body was still shaking, my mind racing. I couldn’t face them like this—not half-dressed, not smelling of sweat and sex and shame. But I had no choice. I tightened the robe and slowly turned the knob.
Mom stood in the doorway, her face pale and tear-streaked, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Behind her, Dad loomed, his face red with rage, fists clenched. Carrie stood slightly behind him, her eyes darting between me and Mom, her own face a mask of guilt and fear.
“Come with us, Mark,” Mom said quietly, not meeting my eyes. “We’re ... we’re going to sit down. All of us.”
I nodded, numb, and followed them out of the room. Dad glared at me, his jaw twitching as we made our way to the kitchen. Carrie followed, her bare feet silent on the hardwood.
The kitchen table was small, its surface cluttered with yesterday’s cereal bowls and a half-empty coffee pot. Dad pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down first, his presence dominating the room. Mom sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap. I took the seat next to her, my legs stiff, while Carrie lingered in the doorway, indecisive.
“Sit down, Carrie,” Dad barked.
She obeyed, sliding into the chair next to me. The room was stiflingly quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator. Dad’s knuckles whitened around the edge of the table.
“Explain yourselves,” he said finally, his voice a blade. “Now.”
Mom’s hand found mine under the table, squeezing it tightly. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt closed off. Carrie beat me to it.
“It wasn’t ... it wasn’t like that,” she whispered. “We love each other, Dad. We’ve always...”
“Love?” Dad’s laugh was hollow, bitter. “You’re nineteen, Carrie. This isn’t love. This is...” He cut himself off, his face twisting. “This is a nightmare.”
Mom let out a choked sob, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God,” she murmured. “Oh, God, what have you done?”
Dad turned to me, his eyes blazing. “You ... what were you thinking, Mark? She’s your sister. Your little sister. You knew better. You should’ve known better.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and final. I stared at my hands, unable to look up. “I’m sorry,” I said, the words barely audible. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just ... it just did.”
Carrie reached over and took my hand, her grip desperate. “Don’t you see?” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “We can’t just undo it. We’re in love. We’ll make it work. We’ll...”
“Love?” Dad’s laugh was hollow, bitter. “You’re children. You don’t know what love is. And even if you did, this is ... this is sick. It’s wrong. It’s against everything we taught you.”
Mom finally looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. “We raised you better than this,” she whispered to me. “Better than this.”
Carrie took a deep breath, her voice steadier as she interjected, “Actually, Mom, Dad, there’s something you need to know. Mark and I, we’re not really...”
“Not really what?” Dad interrupted, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“We’re not really siblings,” Carrie continued, her voice gaining strength. “I mean, we were raised as siblings, but biologically, we’re not related.”
Mom’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you talking about, Carrie? Of course, you’re siblings. You’re my daughter, and Mark is my son.”
Carrie stood up and rushed out of the kitchen. She returned a moment later with her tablet in hand. She placed it on the table and turned it so her parents could see the screen.
“Here,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Look. I used this service, DNA Detectives, to do the test. It’s reliable, and it shows that Mark and I are not biologically related.”
Mom leaned in, squinting at the screen. “Who the fuck is DNA Detectives?” she muttered, her brow furrowing. “And what the hell is this supposed to prove?”
Dad reached over and took the tablet, his eyes scanning the results. His expression turned from confusion to disbelief. “This can’t be right,” he said, his voice low and uncertain. “There must be some mistake.”
Mom snatched the tablet from him, her hands trembling as she read the results. Her face paled, and she let out a sob. “Look! I don’t care what any damn DNA test says, both of you came out of my vagina after nine months! You are my children, and I raised you as siblings. This doesn’t change that!”
She stood up, her chair falling backward with a clatter. “You are brother and fucking sister! I don’t care what some fly-by-night DNA company says! Your father put his sperm inside me, and I carried you both. I watched you come out in a mirror, for fuck’s sake!”
The kitchen fell silent, the weight of Mom’s words settling like a physical force. Carrie and I exchanged an uncomfortable glance, the tension in the room palpable. We had never seen our mother so unhinged, so vehement in her denial. Mom sat back down in her chair and pulled it back up to the table.
“Mom,” Carrie started, her voice soft and pleading. “I know it’s hard to accept, but the test is accurate. Mark and I are not...”
“Stop it!” Mom screamed, her voice cracking with emotion. “Just stop it! You’re trying to twist reality, to make something sick and wrong seem okay. Well, it’s not okay! It’s never going to be okay!”
Dad stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Enough,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Let’s all just calm down. We need to think about this rationally.”
I looked up, my eyes meeting my father’s. “Dad, I...”
“Shut up!” Dad interrupted, holding up a hand. “This is bullshit. We should have you both fucking arrested. Is there any chance you’re pregnant, Carrie? Are you carrying an incest baby?” Dad asked as he looked at her. Carrie just stared down at the table, refusing to look at him.
“No,” I said in a very quiet voice. “I only put the tip in.”
Dad looked back at me and stared for a few seconds. Then he started nodding his head at me while scowling. “Just the tip,” he repeated in a very quiet voice. “Just the tip ... in your little sister!”
I was starting to notice that Dad was angrier at me, but Mom seemed to be angrier with Carrie.
“So, you two were just going to fuck each other and make an incest baby?” asked Mom, staring at Carrie. “I heard what you said when you told your brother to fuck a baby in you.”
“Mom,” Carried started to say, rolling her eyes. “If two people are truly in love there’s no reason they shouldn’t...”
Carrie was stopped in mid-sentence when Mom reached out and slapped her across her face. There was a stunned silence for several seconds, with Carrie looking at Mom in shock and holding her hand against her cheek.
“You can’t assault me! I’m calling the police!” Carrie yelled out. She jumped up to leave the table but Mom stopped her and pushed her back into her chair. Carrie plopped down with yet another of her surprised looks on her face.
“You sit your ass down, Carrie!” my mom yelled. “Your father and I are both officers of the court, and if you think we can’t have both of your dumb asses sitting in jail in a few hours you are mistaken.”
“Arrested for what? Mark is not my real brother!” Carrie yelled back.
I had never seen my mom so angry. I actually thought she might start hitting Carrie at that point, even though neither of us had ever been spanked by our parents growing up. She didn’t say anything for several moments; taking several deep breaths instead. When she continued, it was in a quiet voice that seemed even scarier than when she was yelling.
“For the last time. Your brother came out of me. You came out of me. I don’t know what kind of crazy scenario you have going on in that fucked up little brain of yours right now, but I promise you that Mark is your brother. Your full-blooded brother. Some dumbass test from a company nobody’s ever heard of is not going to change that.”
“Okay, Honey,” Dad said, still standing next to his chair. “Let’s try to calm down just a little and figure out what to do next.” I watched as Dad raised his hand, palm out, towards Mom, trying to calm her down. He made slow, gentle waving motions with his open palm, his fingers together, as if he were trying to soothe a wild animal. His movements were deliberate and measured, a stark contrast to the chaos of the moment.
Mom wasn’t having it, though. “Shut up and sit down, Frank,” she said. “I’m going to tell you all exactly what it going to happen. If any of you argue with me, there will be hell to pay.”
Dad looked like he was about to argue, but instead he sat back down in his chair and looked patiently at Mom. He always ended up doing what she wanted.
“First, Carrie and I are going to spend the night in a hotel. She will not have access to her phone and we will not tell you where we’re going. You and Mark are going to pack a duffel bag for him, then you’re taking him to your brother’s house in Memphis in the morning, after you go to the lab downtown and he gives a blood sample. We’re going to put this ‘not being brother and sister’ bullshit to rest for good.”
“But Mom!” Carrie yelled out, but Mom shot her a look that shut her up.
“I don’t want to hear it, Carrie! You either do what you’re told or we go straight down to the D.A.’s office. I was in a sorority with her at UTK, so you and your brother’s dumb asses could be in jail tonight. Do you understand me?”
Carrie slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest in resignation. “Yes, ma’am,” she said quietly.
Mom and Carrie left the table and in about fifteen minutes left the house dragging luggage behind them. Dad made me go to my room where I had to give him my phone, my tablet, and my laptop. Then he wrote down all my logins and passwords in a notebook. As he stood over me, I had to throw about a week’s worth of clothing into a big duffel bag that I used to use for summer camp. He didn’t say a word while I was packing, just stood there and glared at me.
After that, Dad drove us down to West End and we spent about an hour at a medical testing lab, with both of us eventually giving a vial of blood. I heard the receptionist tell him that results should be back within 24 hours.
It was a long drive towards Germantown, Tennessee where my uncle Jim lived. Not a word was spoken, and Dad listened to NPR the entire way. It was so damn boring. Finally, we pulled up in the driveway, and Jim met us on the front porch. I sat on a bench while they talked for a few minutes.
I heard my dad say that I had to stay here for maybe a week. He also emphasized that if I left, there would be an arrest warrant sworn out on me. Jim kept asking him what was going on, but my dad just kept saying he couldn’t talk about it right now. “Look, Jimmy. It’s bad, okay? Just trust me and help me out here.”
Dad finally got back in his car and drove away. Uncle Jim showed me the guest room in his house, which was fairly sparse. He was a bachelor and lived alone. I wasn’t sure what he did for a living, but he seemed fairly well off. When I finally got into bed and the lights were off, I cried myself to sleep. I missed my old room and I missed Carrie. All I could think about was that my life was ruined.
I spent a week in Jim’s house, mostly being bored. He had a good book collection so I did some reading. We also played some chess. I honestly didn’t know my uncle very well, so this was the longest amount of time I had ever spent with him. We had a few conversations, but I got the feeling he spent most of his time alone and preferred it that way.
At the end of the week, Dad showed up waving an envelope of test results around, going on and about how he had legal proof that Carrie and I were full siblings. He drove us down to an Army recruiting station in Memphis, and on the way, he told me to just sign whatever I was given “or else.”
The Army recruiter was kind of uncomfortable with the whole situation, but I guess a quota is a quota. I just nodded my head and said I understood when he was explaining stuff to me. The following Monday, I was on a bus to Fort Jackson, South Carolina, in order to start Basic Training.
Dad tried to say something to me as I got out of the car at the station, but I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to ever talk to you ever again. Understand?”
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then stopped and nodded his head. He drove away in the car and that was the last time I ever saw him.
Basic was intense and challenging. The drill sergeants pushed us to our limits with endless physical exercises, marching drills, and classroom instruction. It was a grueling experience, but it instilled in me a sense of discipline and resilience that I hadn’t possessed before.
I felt like I was going to die the first few weeks, and they threatened to put me into something called the Pork Chop Platoon, after which I would have to start Basic over again. Fuck that. I pushed through and finally my body started to respond. My muscles started getting harder and the PT training got easier, even as they continuously increased how hard it was.
I really enjoyed the hand-to-hand training, even though it wasn’t much in Basic. I usually imagined my opponent was my father, and went to sleep at night dreaming how I would handle him coming at me like he did while I was on Carrie’s bed. Usually, though, I would dream of Carrie and her soft, warm body. I was past caring if she was my real sister. All I wanted was to finish what we started on her bed weeks ago.
I turned twenty-one near the end of Basic, but I didn’t celebrate or even tell anyone in my platoon. I just spent the ten weeks focusing on what I had to do to achieve high marks in all the tests they put in front of me.
After graduating from Basic, I was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia, for Advanced Infantry Training. This is where I met two of the most influential people in my life: Jake, a tough and disciplined cowboy from Oklahoma, and Luis, a charismatic and quick-witted guy from California. All three of us were several years older than most of the other soldiers we were training with. Jake was actually 23, and everyone in the platoon called him Gramps. Being the only three old enough to buy alcohol in the platoon, we quickly became inseparable.
Jake was all about discipline and assertiveness. He showed me how to take control of situations, especially when trying to pick up chicks on weekend leave. He was the one that taught us to avoid all the women in Columbus, who were used to putting up with advances from military guys. Instead, we grabbed a car off Turo and drove up to Atlanta, which was less than two hours away.
We had this one particular Knights Inn where we would get adjoining rooms, turning them into our party lair. None of us were dumb enough to smoke or vape, but we loved talking girls into doing tequila shots with us. For some reason women think shooting tequila makes their clothes fall off, and once the clothes are off the rest is pretty easy.
Luis was a master at scouting out a trio of girls and getting us all together at a table so we could start plying them with alcohol. Jake and Luis both coached me the first few weekends, telling me how to pick up on the clues a chick was giving out, and how to respond to any objections. It was almost like a formula, and there was a routine you had to go through before you could pile into an Uber and make our way back to the Inn so we could have our fun. One time we even had four girls along for the ride.
I fooled around with plenty of different girls on those weekends, but I never sank my cock into any of their pussies. In the back of my mind, all I could see was Carrie’s dark inner lips, wrapped around the tip of my cock as I was ready to push it deep inside her. I made sure every girl I was with had plenty of orgasms, but it was my tongue and fingers doing all the work.
Jake and Luis called me on it when they figured it out, but I just told them I was waiting for the one that I wanted the most. I didn’t dare explain, even to my best friends, that all I really wanted to do was fuck my little sister. I buried that deep, never really expecting to get another chance with Carrie. I felt like I would never see her again.
Jake’s confidence and leadership skills were infectious, and I found myself emulating his behavior both on and off the field. Luis, on the other hand, taught me the importance of staying calm and thinking clearly under pressure. His sense of humor was a constant source of morale, and he had a knack for diffusing tense situations with a well-timed joke.
One memorable weekend in Auburn, Alabama, we ended up at a local college bar where Luis challenged the bartender to a drink-off. The bartender, a burly guy with a thick beard, accepted the challenge, and the crowd gathered around to watch. Luis, with his quick wit and even quicker drinking skills, won the challenge and became an instant local hero. That night, we partied hard with a trio of sorority girls and created memories that would last a lifetime. We ended up back at our hotel room, where the night turned into a wild orgy with the girls. The room was filled with the sounds of moans and the scent of sweat and sex. It was a night of pure hedonism, and it felt damn good to let loose, even if I didn’t get my dick wet.
Another time, when we were all a little low on funds, we decided to go camping in the woods along the Chattahoochee River. We set up our tents, built a fire, and spent the night telling stories and sharing dreams. It was during these moments that I realized the true value of camaraderie and brotherhood. These guys had my back, and I had theirs. We were a family, and that bond was stronger than any blood relation.
For some reason, whenever the three us were alone like that, we always ended up talking about girls and pussy. When I made a comment about it, Luis told me a quote from a famous golfer named Sam Snead. “If you’re not thinking about pussy, you’re just not concentrating.”
Over the ten weekends we spent hanging out together, they taught me a simple principle: make sure the girl cums multiple times before you ever show her your cock. Take control of her body, and use her incredible ability to have multiple orgasms against her. Make her beg for mercy but don’t for any reason stop. Keep her going until she passes the fuck out. Then you let her rest a little before you start using your cock to finish her off.
“By the time you finish,” said Jake from across the campfire, “she should be a quivering puddle, curled up in the wet spot and desperately trying to catch her breath. That’s when you curl up behind her, pull her in tight, and whisper sweet things in her ear. Tell her to get a little rest, cause you’re going to do it to her all over again in a few hours.”
I would just nod my head in agreement, but I was filing everything they told me away, hoping to use it all one day on the only girl I really wanted. The girl whose face I saw every night just before I fell asleep.
It was towards the end of my time at Fort Benning, just a few weeks before graduation, that my injury occurred. We were in the middle of a complex tactical exercise when I took a bad fall from an embankment. I landed awkwardly, and the impact jarred my spine. The pain was immediate and sharp, but I tried to push through it, not wanting to let my platoon down. However, the instructors noticed my struggle and pulled me out of the exercise.
I was taken to the base hospital, where they ran a series of tests. The diagnosis was a lumbar spine strain with a herniated disc. It was painful, but the doctors assured me it wasn’t career-ending. They recommended physical therapy and some time off to recover. I was sent to the Army’s rehabilitation facility at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, for six to eight weeks of intensive physical therapy.
The rehab was tough, but the staff was supportive and knowledgeable. They worked me hard, focusing on strengthening my core and back muscles to stabilize my spine. The days were filled with various exercises, massages, and even some water therapy. It was a slow process, but I could feel myself getting stronger each day. The injury wasn’t so serious that it would affect me long-term, but in the end, the doctors decided it was enough to keep me from returning to active duty.
After completing my rehabilitation, I was evaluated and given a 20% disability rating. The injury wasn’t severe enough to prevent me from living a normal life, but it was significant enough to warrant a discharge. I was honorably discharged with a small disability check, which was a bittersweet ending to my military career.
Being in the Army had given me a sense of discipline and purpose that I hadn’t found elsewhere. It had also given me the space and time to process everything that had happened with Carrie and my family. I wasn’t sure what the future held, but I knew I would probably never hit the low point of that day I got on the bus in Memphis.
I walked out of the rehabilitation facility, the sun warm on my face as I carried a duffle bag on each shoulder. Everything I owned was packed into those two bags—my military uniform, some personal items, and a few mementos from my time in the Army. The facility had been my home for the past two months, and as I stepped out onto the sidewalk, I felt a mix of relief and uncertainty about what lay ahead.
As I made my way down the sidewalk, I noticed two figures standing a short distance away, leaning against a wall. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized them: Jake and Luis, both dressed in casual uniforms that bore the insignia of their rank—Private First Class. Their AIT badges were prominently displayed, a testament to their achievements and the path they had taken since we last saw each other.
A wave of mixed emotions washed over me. I was happy for them, truly I was. They had pushed through the training and come out stronger, more confident soldiers. But seeing them like this also reminded me of the road not taken, the path I had been forced to leave behind.
I approached them, my steps quickening as I closed the distance between us. They straightened up as they saw me, and Jake gave me a nod of acknowledgment. “Mark,” he said, his voice steady and serious. “Good to see you, man.”
Luis chimed in, his usual smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You look like you’ve been through hell, but you’re still standing. That’s what matters. Although, I must say, you’re looking a bit pale. Maybe you should ask for some of that special Army chow to get your color back!”
I managed a small smile, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Yeah, it’s been a journey. But I’m still here, and I’m ready to face whatever comes next.”
Jake clapped me on the back, a gesture of solidarity and support. “That’s the spirit. We’re here for you, Mark. Whatever you need, we’ve got your back.” They each grabbed one of my bags and we turned to go.
As we started walking down the sidewalk together, I felt a renewed sense of determination. Maybe my path had taken a different turn, but I was still part of this journey, and I was ready to write the next chapter.
Suddenly, I saw a figure up ahead, standing in the middle of the sidewalk. As we got closer, my heart leapt into my throat. It was Carrie, wearing a short floral sundress that highlighted her sun-kissed skin and radiant smile. She looked absolutely stunning, and seeing her there, waiting for me, filled me with a sense of peace and belonging that I hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity.
I picked up the pace, my heart pounding in my chest. Jake and Luis noticed my sudden urgency and exchanged glances, but they let me go without a word. As I approached Carrie, I could see the love and longing in her eyes, mirroring my own feelings.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I bent down and wrapped my arms around her just below her bottom. Then I stood and swept her up into my arms, her body pressing against mine as I kissed her deeply and passionately. The world around us faded away as we lost ourselves in the kiss, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths, our breaths mingling. It was a kiss that promised a future together, a kiss that started healing the wounds of the past.
I pushed one hand up the back of her dress, gripping her ass and finding she had no panties on. That let me know she was still my girl; that she still wanted me as much as I wanted her. When we finally pulled away, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. “Carrie,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”
She smiled, her eyes shining with happiness. “I’ve missed you too, Mark. More than you know. But we’re together now, and that’s all that matters.”
As they approached us, I could see the curiosity in Jake and Luis’ eyes as they took in the scene. I set Carrie down gently, my arm still around her waist, and turned to introduce her to my friends.
“Jake, Luis, this is Carrie,” I said, my voice filled with pride and affection. “This is the one that I was telling you about, from before I left for training.”
Carrie extended her hand to each of them, a warm and friendly smile on her face. “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said. “I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you, but Mark hasn’t been able to write or call during his training.”
Jake looked a little confused, but shook her hand firmly, returning her smile with a nod of acknowledgment. “No problem at all, Carrie. We’re just glad to finally meet the woman who has Mark so smitten. He’s been looking forward to seeing you again.”
Luis, ever the charmer, took her hand and brought it to his lips for a light kiss, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Enchanté, mademoiselle. I must say, Mark has excellent taste. You are a vision of beauty, and I can see why he’s been so eager to reunite with you. Any chance you have a sister that’s single?”
Carrie laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. “Thank you, Luis. That’s very sweet of you to say. I’ve missed Mark terribly, and I’m just happy to have him back safe and sound. I don’t have a sister, I’m afraid.”
“So...” I said after a moment or two of us just looking at each other. “I’m not sure who had plans for what with me.”