Gilded Cage
Copyright© 2025 by TabooTalesIn
Chapter 1
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Emma Wilson had built an empire on the unshakeable foundation of her own desirability. She was a goddess, and every man was a willing worshipper. But one person challenged her, Noah her fat, ugly, worthless son, the boy she cast aside
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fiction Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew Grand Parent InLaws FemaleDom Harem Anal Sex Double Penetration Lactation
The room was so quiet, Noah felt like the silence itself could crack. It wasn’t a normal kind of quiet; it was the heavy, expensive kind you only get from thick walls, fancy curtains, and a giant estate that keeps the rest of the world far away. Outside his third floor window, the lawns stretched out like a perfect green carpet, a constant reminder of how obsessed his grandparents, Alexander and Rachel, were with making sure everything looked perfect on the outside. This was his world. All of it. And even though it looked perfect, it felt like a golden cage.
Noah lay on his back on the ridiculously soft, silver comforter, the kind of bedding that screamed luxury, but never actually made him feel comfortable. His heart pounded in his chest, fast and tight, like something trapped and desperate to escape. His mom’s voice from earlier still echoed in the air, cool, smooth, and totally dismissive.
“Noah, there’s a family meeting tonight,” Emma said, standing in his doorway like she couldn’t wait for him to leave. She looked flawless as always, a cream silk blouse, tailored pants that hugged her perfect figure. Her dark brown hair was swept up in that elegant twist she always wore, and her perfume, some custom blend of gardenia and something darker, drifted into the room before she even spoke.
“Just some boring financial stuff with your grandfather and Uncle Alan,” she added, flashing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’d be bored to tears. Why don’t you go hang out with Ethan? We’ll be done late.”
Noah looked up, his voice carrying just a hint of challenge. “Will Lucas and Sophia be there?”
Emma’s expression shifted, sharper now, expecting silence. “Yes, they’ll be here. And you know you never get along with them. That’s why I’m suggesting you spend time with Ethan.”
It was a lie. Smooth, practiced, and effortless just like always. She didn’t even really look at him. Her eyes slid over his face like he wasn’t there, landing somewhere behind him, as if even acknowledging him took effort. This wasn’t new for Noah. He’d been excluded from many “family gatherings” like this his whole life, always gently, politely pushed aside like he didn’t fit. Eighteen years of being ignored had hollowed something out, inside him. He wasn’t one of them. He was the flaw in the Wilson family’s perfect design, the glitch in the code.
The Wilsons were built on two things: wealth and ridiculous good looks. Every single one of them looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine. At the top of it all was Alexander, the patriarch. He was powerful and intimidating, with a thick mane of white hair and sharp gray eyes that missed absolutely nothing. Even Noah’s older cousins Lucas and Sophia looked like they’d been handpicked by a stylist, tall, polished, with perfect skin and that effortless confidence you only get from a lifetime of being told you’re flawless.
His dad, Henry, had that same classic Wilson look: strong jaw, sharp features. His younger brother, Alan who Noah couldn’t stand had the same genes, but none of the restraint. Henry had charm, sure. The kind of smooth, practiced calm that made people feel at ease. But underneath, Noah had started to notice something else. A weakness. Like Henry had spent his whole life going along with things, instead of standing up.
But his mother, Emma, was in a league of her own. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was the kind of beautiful that didn’t even seem real. At forty-two, she looked untouched by time. It wasn’t just the flawless skin, or the sleek dark hair, or those icy-blue eyes that could switch from warm to glacial in a heartbeat. It was her presence. She had this energy, this quiet power, that pulled people in and held them there. Men were obsessed with her. Women envied her. She could walk into a room and own it without saying a single word. And she knew it. She wore that power like jewelry like it was just another part of her perfectly curated image.
His sister Ava, four years older, was like a younger version of their mother, same dangerous curves, same full, pouty lips. She had inherited their mother’s beauty, but none of her restraint. Ava was wild. Bold. Electric. The kind of person who lit up a room just by walking into it. She was magnetic, impossible to ignore, and even harder to hold on to.
And then there was Noah. He didn’t need a mirror to know everything that was wrong with him. He was the one who didn’t fit the flaw in their perfect picture. While the rest of them were lean and sculpted, he was fat. He had his mother’s bright blue eyes, sure, but on him they just looked ... lost. Out of place. Like they didn’t belong on his face. He carried around thirty extra pounds that refused to go anywhere, and in a family obsessed with appearances, that might as well have been a crime. Sometimes, when they thought he couldn’t hear them, his relatives would say it. Just one word, plain and brutal.
Ugly.
Noah was pretty sure his parents had him tested at some point. He’d imagined it a hundred times, his mom and dad sitting stiffly in some cold doctor’s office, looking perfect and concerned. The doctor, calm and professional, would slide a DNA report across the table. And somehow despite all logic, despite how little he resembled either of them it would confirm that this awkward, pudgy kid really was their son. But even that wouldn’t have changed anything. What he really wanted, what he’d always wanted, was his mother’s love. And he wanted it so badly it actually hurt. A deep, aching need that never went away.
He saw how Emma was with Ava, the easy laughs, the inside jokes, the way she’d gently touch her arm or tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It was soft. Natural. Loving. But with Noah, it was always different. Her touches were quick, polite, more out of obligation than affection. Her smiles never lasted. And her eyes ... they barely landed on him before drifting somewhere else, like he was a piece of furniture she didn’t really like but couldn’t be bothered to get rid of.
Noah remembered his tenth birthday like it had just happened sharp, vivid, like a fresh cut that never really healed. He’d spent a whole week sitting at his desk, hunched over, pouring everything he had into a drawing of a huge, fire-breathing Dragon, covered in crimson and gold scales. He thought, no he believed that if he made it perfect enough, it might finally make Emma look at him the way she looked at Ava. At the party, surrounded by all their perfect, polished relatives, he’d handed it to her.
She’d taken it gently, her fingers brushing his. For just a second, he felt something, like maybe she saw him. Then she glanced at the picture. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, that’s ... very colorful, Noah.”
And then she turned away. Alan had said something funny, apparently, and she laughed this beautiful, musical laugh Noah had never once heard directed at him. The drawing dangled forgotten in her hand for a minute before she set it on a side table. The next day, he found it in the kitchen trash crumpled up, soaked in coffee grounds and used napkins. And just like that, Noah felt like his mother threw away a piece of him. A real, living piece.
His sister Ava used to be his only ally. Back when they were little, they were inseparable like two halves of the same heart. She was his protector, his best friend. But then puberty hit. And everything changed. Ava grew into the kind of beauty the family worshipped, she was welcomed into the world of the “beautiful people.” And Noah? He was still the chubby, awkward kid with crooked glasses and soft edges. Suddenly, he was an embarrassment.
He could still remember the exact moment their bond finally broke. He was fourteen. They were hanging out by the pool with their cousins, Lucas and Sophia. Lucas, basically a meaner, younger version of his dad, Alan started teasing Noah as he clumsily tried to swim a lap. “Look at the whale trying to move,” he shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. Sophia giggled sharp and fake, like she was auditioning for approval.
Noah’s eyes burned from the chlorine and something worse. He looked over at Ava, desperate for backup for the old Ava. The one who would’ve said something. But she didn’t. She looked away. Her cheeks turned a little pink, and she said nothing. Even at her wedding to John, her longtime boyfriend, Ava kept Noah pushed off to the side, like an afterthought. Like he didn’t matter. Now she treated him like everyone else did with cold, polite indifference.
Now, with college just around the corner, a small, stubborn part of him had started to push back. That’s why he’d picked a school so far away. He was going to leave and not just for a few months. He was leaving for good. He’d get his degree, find a job that had nothing to do with Wilson’s, and start a new life. He was done with the cold silences and the fake smiles. Done with his mom’s indifference. Done with Ava. He was going to build something of his own. And maybe, just maybe, if he got far enough away, he’d finally stop feeling like the broken piece of their perfect family.
Noah went to Ethan’s like he was told. They played video games for about an hour, mindless, gory stuff that didn’t do much to distract him. His head was buzzing with restless, bitter energy. He was so damn tired of being pushed aside. Tired of being treated like a little kid who couldn’t handle “boring financial talk.” He eventually made up an excuse and left Ethan’s house. When he entered home It was quiet. But not the kind of quiet that means nobody’s home. It was a charged silence. As he walked down the hallway, his sneakers squeaked against the marble floor, way too loud in the stillness, and then he heard it.
A sound.
Low and Guttural.
He froze. It came from the grand living room, the one with the twenty, foot ceilings and towering windows.
It was a moan.
A woman’s moan, then a soft, wet, rhythmic lapping noise. And then, a whisper, low, needy, soaked in pleasure.
“Oh, yes ... right there, baby...”
His stomach dropped, It was Emma.
And then, even worse, another whisper. Encouraging. Breathless.
Ava.
No. No way.
His mind had to be messing with him, twisting his resentment towards his mother and sister into something sick and impossible. It had to be the TV. A movie, maybe. Something playing too loud.
Yeah. That had to be it.
But still, his body moved on its own. Step by step. The huge oak doors to the living room were cracked open. He could smell the musky, salty and Raw smell of sweat and sex.
Some part of him, maybe the last sane part, screamed at him to stop. Run. Turn around. Go back. Lock your door. Forget this.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
Something had taken hold of him, some sick, helpless curiosity. He was standing on the edge of something terrible, and he had to look.
He had to know.
Noah reached for the doors, barely breathing, and leaned in to look through the crack. What he saw didn’t feel real. It felt like something pulled straight out of a nightmare. Like a scene from some twisted dream painted by a madman. The grand living room was lit only by firelight from the huge stone fireplace and dozens of candles scattered everywhere, on tables, ledges, even the floor. The air was thick, hot, heavy, pulsing with something he couldn’t name. And the sounds, the sounds of moaning, Whispers and Skin on skin. It wasn’t a meeting, It wasn’t anything close to that, It looked like a ritual.
An orgy.
And at the very center of it all was his mother, Emma. She was laid out completely naked on her back, right on top of the antique mahogany dining table that had been dragged into the middle of the room like an altar. The flickering light from dozens of candles made her body glow. Her skin was so slick with a thin layer of sweat, she looked less like a person and more like a statue carved from pearl that had just come to life. Her tits, those huge 36D tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of under silk blouses and cashmere sweaters were on full display. They were full and heavy, spilling just a little to the sides with their own weight. Her nipples were a deep, dark pink, puckered into hard, tight peaks that were so slick they looked like they’d just been licked.
His eyes followed the line of her body down to the flat plane of her stomach. A perfect triangle of dark hair stood out against her pale skin, drawing his gaze right to her pussy. It was swollen with arousal and glistening, so wet he could clearly see her inner lips. They were a deep, rosy-pink, slick and plump, pushing past the dark curls of hair. Her legs were spread wide apart, bent at the knees, holding nothing back. She was offering the very heart of herself to the entire family.
No, this wasn’t just a woman on a table. This was a goddess on her altar. And her worshippers? His fucking family. The air vanished from his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. As he recognised the person kneeling between his mother’s open thighs.
It was his sister Ava.
Her head was buried right between Emma’s legs, her hair fanned out across Emma’s flushed inner thighs. Her mouth was moving with a focused, hungry intensity. He watched as her pink tongue darted out, licking slow, wet circles around Emma’s clit, taking the nub deep into her mouth and sucking with a practiced rhythm.
A low moan of pure pleasure escaped from Emma’s open mouth. Her fingers were twisted deep in Ava’s hair, and she wasn’t pushing her away, she was pulling her in, grinding Ava’s face even harder against her.
“Oh, Ava, yes ... there, baby, right there,” Emma moaned, her voice strained. “Your mouth ... fuck, your mouth feels so good on my pussy. Don’t stop. Lick me, baby.”
The rest of the family stood around the table, watching. His grandfather, Alexander, and grandmother, Rachel, were there. His Uncle Alan stood with his wife, Amelia, the woman Noah had crushed on for years. Next to them were his cousins, Lucas and Sophia. None of them looked shocked or horrified. They just stood there in silence, their faces a mix of intense focus and anticipation, as if they were all just waiting for their turn to worship their goddess.
A hot, bitter wave of hatred and jealousy washed over Noah, aimed right at Lucas. He was part of the inner circle, allowed to stand just feet away from his mother. He was included in this twisted ritual, while Noah, her own son, was the outcast, forced to watch from the shadows. His attention was pulled back to the table, where his father Henry and brother-in-law John stood shirtless, their bodies slick with sweat in the firelight. All their focus was on Emma’s incredible breasts.
Henry latched onto her right breast, sucking hard on the nipple, his mouth covering the whole areola. At the same time, John was working on her left, swirling his tongue around the tip before flicking it like an expert. Noah couldn’t believe it, his father was sharing his wife with another man, especially his own son-in-law, in front of the whole family.
“Mmm, yes ... suck my tits,” Emma purred, her voice a low, husky command. “They’re all yours.” “Suck them hard,” she demanded. “I want to feel your teeth. Make them ache.”
Henry did exactly what she asked, gently biting down. A sharp cry of pleasure, almost a scream, shot out of Emma. “Oh, God, yes! Oh, Henry! Oh, John! You’re all driving me crazy!”
Noah was disgusted, confused, and felt completely betrayed. But underneath all that, a dark part of him was getting turned on. He was watching his family’s ultimate secret, a scene he was never meant to see, and his own body was betraying him.
He felt himself start to get hard, a hot, heavy feeling in his tight jeans. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t look away. His eyes were locked on his mother. The look of pure pleasure on her face was both terrifying and captivating. Her normally elegant face was now slack with passion, her lips swollen and parted, her skin flushed deep pink. Her perfect body, the same one that gave birth to him, raised him, and then pushed him away, was now on full display, being worshipped by the rest of the family.
“My Goddess,” his father whispered, kissing his way from her breast to her neck. “So fucking perfect. We all want you. We’d do anything for you, Emma. Anything.”
Emma let her eyes drift slowly from Henry to John, then down to Ava, who was still busy between her thighs. Her gaze swept over the rest of the candlelit room.
“Now...” she whispered, her voice husky and powerful. “Take your pleasure. Indulge in each other. All of you.”
It was a command, permission, and her blessing, all rolled into one. And with those words, the organized ritual exploded into a frenzy of chaos.
Ava got up from between her mother’s legs, her face shiny and wet. Her eyes had a wild, hungry look that Noah had never seen before. She looked right at their father and then at her husband, John. Henry lay down on the bearskin rug by the fireplace, there was no mistaking what he wanted. Ava gave a dirty smile, climbed on top of Henry, and lowered her wet pussy onto his hard cock. He drove himself deep inside his own daughter. She cried out, a sharp sound of pure pleasure and arched her back, throwing her head back. At the same time, John moved in behind her. He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her skin, and put his own hard cock right at her tight asshole. He spit on the tip and slowly pushed himself inside her.
Ava’s perfect breasts, an inheritance from her mother, bounced and swayed with the force of both men. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open as breathless moans escaped her lips.
“Oh, yes! Fuck me! Fuck me harder, Daddy!” she cried out, her voice raw and desperate. Then she gasped as John pushed all the way in. “Oh, John! Fuck, my ass ... you’re splitting me open! God, don’t stop! Please, don’t ever stop!”
The sounds were obscene, like something out of a porn movie: the wet, slapping noise against his sister’s ass, the deeper squelching sound of John’s cock working in and out of her, all mixed with her desperate moans and the grunts of the two men.Noah’s mind was reeling. This wasn’t some shameful secret they hid; this was their way of life. This was the real “family business.”
He had to look away from the trio when his uncle, Alan, made his move. Alan, the one who always had a smirk on his face and cold eyes. He walked over to the table where Emma was still lying, her legs now spread open and empty.
Emma gave him a slow, sexy, all-knowing smile, then lifted her legs and wrapped them around him. Alan looked completely focused as he grabbed her hips and put his own thick, veiny cock at the entrance to her wet pussy. He was thicker than Henry. He pushed into her slowly and deliberately, stretching her with each powerful move.
Emma let out a long, shaky moan, her fingers digging into the wooden table so hard her knuckles turned white. “Oh, God, Alan! Yes ... oh, just like that! Fill me up, brother-in-law. Fill your brother’s wife with your cock.”
“You like that?” Alan grunted, starting to fuck her faster. He grabbed her ass, pulling her down hard onto his cock with each thrust. “You like your brother-in-law’s cock deep inside your greedy pussy? Is it better than your husband’s? Tell me.”
Emma couldn’t answer with words. She just let out a series of breathless cries, her body bucking and shaking as he fucked her hard. “Oh ... Oh, God ... Yes ... Aah ... Yes!”
Rachel, Noah’s grandmother who still retained a slender, aristocratic beauty, knelt on the floor by Alan’s legs. Her silver blonde head was buried in Emma’s crotch, her tongue lapping eagerly at Emma’s clit even as her own son fucked her daughter-in-law from above. The sight of his grandmother performing cunnilingus on his mother while his uncle was buried deep inside her was a layer of depravity his mind could barely process. He felt a wave of dizziness, a graying at the edges of his vision, and gripped the solid wood of the doorframe to steady himself.
In a corner, on a velvet couch, Lucas and Sophia were all over each other. Lucas had pulled down the front of her white dress, exposing her small, perky breasts to his greedy hands and mouth. His mouth was mashed against hers in a wet, sloppy kiss as his hands went everywhere, squeezing her tits and digging into her ass.
“Fuck, you feel so good, sis,” Lucas groaned into her mouth, his voice hoarse with teenage need.
“Please, Lucas, be slow,” Sophia pleaded, her eyes rolling back in her head as his fumbling fingers found her wet pussy right through her panties.
And in another corner, his grandfather, Alexander, was with Amelia, Alan’s wife, and the woman Noah had crushed on his whole life. She was bent completely naked over the arm of a heavy velvet sofa. Her bare ass looked pale and glowing in the firelight, and her pussy was glistening. Alexander’s movements were fierce and raw as he pounded into her from behind, his face locked in an intense, almost painful focus. Amelia’s hands gripped the sofa cushions, her knuckles white. Her soft, rhythmic moans were a strange contrast to Alexander’s animal-like grunts of pleasure. Noah watched as the woman of his dreams was pounded wildly by his grandfather, and in that single moment, his entire crush on Amelia vanished.
The whole room was alive with sex. There were moans, groans, the wet slap of skin on skin, the deeper sounds of fucking, and filthy, whispered words of encouragement. It was a closed circle, a self-sustaining world of lust where every taboo wasn’t just broken, but celebrated. Every forbidden desire was being met.
And he, Noah, was the only one on the outside.
The outcast. The ugly one. The voyeur.
A dark, twisted, lonely part of Noah didn’t just want to run away; it wanted to join in. He wanted to feel his sister’s skin, to taste the pleasure on his mother’s lips, to be a part of this beautiful, terrible world.