A Terrible Mistake
Copyright© 2025 by Knobbie Knows
Chapter 3
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 3 - A brother gets caught spying on his sister, resulting in confrontation, a new relationship and blackmail.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction Incest Brother Sister Masturbation Safe Sex Voyeurism BBW AI Generated
The note crackled in Chloe’s damp palm. I know what you need. I can help you keep it. But nothing is free. The words weren’t written, they were etched, burning phosphorescence onto the back of her eyelids. Gemma. It could only be Gemma. The easy acceptance in the garage hadn’t been acceptance at all; it had been reconnaissance. Calmly noting the depth of Chloe’s surrender before moving in for the kill.
The room felt airless. The familiar walls pressed in, patterned with the grotesque after-images of Leo’s hands, his mouth, the frantic collision of their bodies. The need warred violently with the shame, the disgust. Gemma was right: it was destruction. Yet the echo of Leo’s weight, his frantic murmurs against her skin, the way he fit against her – an illicit, perfect puzzle piece – flooded her with a reckless heat that momentarily eclipsed the terror.
She didn’t sleep. She paced, the worn floorboards groaning under her bare feet. Dawn bled a sickly gray light into the room. Nothing is free. What price? Money? Chloe had little. Secrets? What darker secret could she possess? Or something else ... something visceral? The possibilities slithered like vipers in her mind.
Gemma was already in the den, curled in their father’s old armchair, meticulously repairing the binding on a battered copy of The Collector. Sunlight glanced off her glasses, turning her eyes into opaque discs. She didn’t look up as Chloe hovered in the doorway, the crumpled note held like a grenade pin in her fist.
“You left this.” Chloe’s voice was scraped raw.
Gemma’s needle paused. “Did I?” She finally lifted her gaze, sharp and appraising. “Thought you might need time to consider my offer.” Her tone was light, conversational, absurdly normal against the seismic crack opening beneath Chloe’s feet.
“What offer?” Chloe bluffed, hating the tremor in her voice. “What is this, Gemma?”
Gemma set the book aside, leaning forward. The casualness vanished, replaced by a focused intensity. “Don’t play dumb, Chloe. It doesn’t suit you. We both know what you and Leo have been doing in the dead of night. In this house.” She gestured vaguely around the room imbued with decades of mundane family history. “It’s filthy. It’s wrong. And it’s spectacularly dangerous.”
Chloe flinched. “Then why ... why say you’d help?”
“Because,” Gemma said smoothly, “your particular brand of self-immolation fascinates me. The sheer, claustrophobic intensity of it. But mainly, because you’re useful. You have access.”
“Access to what?”
Gemma’s lips curved in a small, humorless smile that didn’t reach her dark, watchful eyes. “To Leo, obviously. My dear, oblivious brother.”
Chloe stared, uncomprehending. “What?”
“I want him,” Gemma stated, the baldness of it striking Chloe like a physical blow. “Not like you do, grinding against your shame. That’s ... messy. Primitive.” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “I want observation. Control. I want to understand the mechanics of his obsession, his hunger. I want to see the raw, unfiltered thing he becomes with you.” She leaned back again, steepling her fingers. “Think of it as ... psychological field research. With a very specific test subject.”
Revulsion coiled cold in Chloe’s stomach, mingling horribly with a traitorous spark of possessive fury. “You’re sick.”
“Undoubtedly,” Gemma conceded without rancor. “But so are you. The difference is, I know precisely what I want and how to get it. You just drown in yours.” She tilted her head. “The terms are simple. You continue your little ... arrangement with Leo. But from now on, I watch.”
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