The Shaw Family
Copyright© 2025 by work for nothin
Chapter 7
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 7 - A family in an incestuous relationship goes on a camping trip on a hill. While the father and son are out looking for firewood, the mother and daughter disappear without a trace.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/ft Consensual Fiction Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter BDSM Interracial Black Male White Male Anal Sex
“They might just be around the lake,” Alfred suggested, trying to keep the worry from his voice. “Let’s go check.”
Jake and Alfred set off at a brisk pace, their calls echoing through the trees. “Evelyn! Claire!” they shouted in unison, their voices bouncing off the surrounding hills. The only response was the distant murmur of the mountain stream. The sense of unease grew with each unanswered shout, the beauty of the woods now tainted by the specter of potential danger.
The lake was a mirror of the sky, its surface unbroken by any sign of the missing women. “They wouldn’t have gone swimming without telling us, would they?” Jake asked, his eyes scanning the serene scene.
“Let’s spread out and search,” Alfred said, his voice tight with concern. They fanned out, each man covering a different path that wound around the lake. The quiet was unnerving, the only sounds their booted footsteps and the occasional bird call. The peacefulness of the scene was a stark contrast to the turmoil in their hearts.
The minutes stretched into an eternity as they searched, calling out names that grew more desperate with every unanswered echo. The light began to fade, casting long shadows that whispered secrets the forest refused to share. Jake’s mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. Had something happened? Had they encountered someone who didn’t share Crestfall’s open-mindedness?
Their paths converged again at the lake’s edge, their faces etched with worry. “We need to find them before dark,” Alfred said, his voice a low rumble. They stood for a moment, the weight of their fears pressing down on them.
They continued their frantic search, their calls growing more desperate with the fading light. The shadows grew longer, twisting into sinister shapes that seemed to taunt them with the unknown. Every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves sent a jolt of panic through their bodies. They searched until the last sliver of daylight disappeared, leaving them in the cold embrace of nightfall.
The darkness was thick, a living presence that whispered secrets of the mountain’s past. They built a small fire, the flickering flames casting eerie patterns across their faces as they huddled close, the warmth doing little to dispel the chill in their bones. The night stretched on, an endless void that swallowed their hope.
They waited, the fire’s crackling their only companion, as the stars began to twinkle in the velvet sky. The world outside Crestfall had never felt so vast, so alien, so filled with potential threats. Each minute that ticked by was a silent scream, a testament to their fear.
As the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, they set out again, their eyes straining against the shadows. The forest that had once been a lover’s embrace now seemed a prison, a labyrinth of potential dangers. The light grew stronger, and with it, their hope.
The track was faint, a whisper of disturbance in the otherwise pristine landscape. A piece of fabric, torn and snagged on a low branch, fluttered in the early morning breeze. It was Evelyn’s, a reminder that she had passed this way. Their hearts racing, they followed it, the path leading them deeper into the woods.
The footprints they found next were unmistakable, the soft imprints of bare feet in the damp earth. But as they studied them, a chill ran down their spines. There were more than two sets, the additional prints larger and heavier than those they recognized. The tracks led away from the lake, into the dense underbrush, and the unmistakable scent of fear hung in the air.
They exchanged a look, the gravity of the situation etched into their features. Someone had been with their women, someone who had left a trail that spoke of struggle and haste. The tracks of their loved ones were clear, but the others ... they were foreign, a disturbance in the natural order of their lives.
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