The Shaw Family
Copyright© 2025 by work for nothin
Chapter 8
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 8 - 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
With trembling hands, Jake managed to lift Alfred’s limp body, the warmth of his father’s blood seeping into his skin. His mind raced with the need to get him back to the tent, to safety, to the warmth and comfort of the only place they could call home now. Each step was a battle against gravity, the weight of Alfred’s lifeless form a constant reminder of the horror unfolding around them. The woods that had once been a playground of love and acceptance had become a battleground of fear and loss.
The journey back was a blur of agony and determination. Jake’s eyes never left the tent, a beacon of hope in the sea of darkness. When they finally reached the camp, he laid Alfred down as gently as he could, his own body screaming in protest. The canvas shelter seemed so small now, a flimsy barricade against the world that had invaded their sanctuary. With trembling hands, he pulled back the flap, revealing the warm, inviting glow of the lantern inside.
He grabbed the medical kit from his pack, his mind racing through the lessons Alfred had taught him. Bandages, antiseptic, painkillers. The basic supplies were all there, but the gaping wound in his father’s chest was anything but simple. Jake’s hands were shaking so badly he could barely see what he was doing, but he forced himself to focus. The smell of coppery blood filled the tent, a stark contrast to the earthy scents of the woods outside. He tore the fabric of Alfred’s shirt, exposing the gaping hole where the bullet had torn through flesh and bone.
With a deep breath, he cleaned the wound as gently as he could, trying to ignore the whimpers of pain that escaped Alfred’s clenched teeth. The blood flowed like a river, and he worked quickly to stem the tide. He pressed the bandages into place, his eyes never leaving Alfred’s face. The older man’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and labored. The pressure was immense, but the bleeding began to slow, the crimson stain on the fabric spreading more slowly. Jake’s chest tightened, his heart pounding in his ears as he worked, each beat a silent prayer for his father’s life.
Once the bleeding was under control, he reached for his phone, his hands sticky with blood. He dialed the McLeods, the only people in the village they could trust. The line connected, and he could hear the static of the mountain air. “Marianne, it’s me, Jake. We need your help. Alfred’s been shot, it’s bad,” he managed to say, his voice cracking.
There was a pause, and then Marianne’s voice, sharp with worry. “What happened? Where are you?”
“By the lake,” Jake choked out. “They ... they took Claire and Evelyn.”
“We’re coming,” she said, the line going dead.
Jake sat back, his head spinning with the gravity of the situation. His father’s life hung by a thread, and his heart was torn between his love for Evelyn and Claire and the grief that threatened to consume him. He had never felt so powerless, so alone.
The minutes dragged on like hours, each one heavier than the last. The light grew brighter outside the tent, painting the fabric with a stark, cold glow. And then, the sound of footsteps, the rustle of leaves, and the flap was thrown back, revealing Marianne and Floyd’s concerned faces.
Marianne’s gasp was the first thing Jake heard as she took in Alfred’s condition. Her eyes grew wide with shock and fear, her hand flying to her mouth. Floyd’s jaw tightened as he assessed the situation, his gaze flitting from Alfred’s still form to Jake’s blood-stained hands.
Without a word, Marianne knelt beside Jake, her hands gentle as they moved to help him. Her touch was a lifeline, a reminder that he was not alone in this nightmare. Together, they worked to stabilize Alfred, her calm efficiency a balm to Jake’s shaking hands.
Floyd stepped outside, his voice low and urgent as he made calls, organizing a search party. The village of Crestfall would come together for them, their unorthodox family ties now a unified front against the horror that had intruded upon their lives.
The air was thick with tension, the only sound the ragged breaths of Alfred and the occasional whimper of pain that escaped his clenched jaw. They worked in silence, their hearts pounding in their chests like war drums, each beat a call to action.
“Floyd, we can’t just sit here,” Jake said, his voice strained. “We have to get him help.”
Floyd nodded grimly, his eyes never leaving Alfred’s ashen face. “I’ll take him to the car,” he decided, his voice firm and commanding. “Marianne, gather the kids and get him to the hospital in the next town. Tell the police what happened, but leave out...” he trailed off, his gaze flicking to the collar that lay on the ground, a symbol of their shared secret.
To read this story you need a
Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In
or Register (Why register?)