My Taboo Life
Copyright© 2026 by H. Malcom Walker
Chapter 7: The Education
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 7: The Education - She lost her once. She won't lose her again. Piper spent eighteen years searching for the newborn daughter taken from her. Now she's found Amelia, eighteen, in an Arkansas trailer park, unaware the stranger watching is her flesh and blood. With a new name to go along with her large bank account, the only thing Piper lacks is conscience. Some bonds survive separation. Some loves break every rule. A dark, transgressive novel about obsession, dominance, and the terrible gravity of blood.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Coercion Consensual Lesbian Incest Mother Daughter BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Spanking Analingus Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Sex Toys Water Sports
The days that followed were a blur of sex and instruction, of teaching and learning, and discovering who we were together in the dark and who we could become. We barely left the trailer. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only her body and mine, only the endless exploration of what we could do to each other, what we could make each other feel.
I introduced her to toys on the second day, after we had recovered from the marathon of our first night together. I showed her the small vibrator first, a sleek silver bullet that fit in the palm of my hand. I had her lie on the bed, naked and trembling, and I tied a silk scarf around her eyes, blindfolding her. The loss of sight made her other senses heighten. I could see it in the way her breath quickened, the way her skin flushed, the way her nipples hardened before I even touched her.
With the vibrator on low, I traced it down her body, starting at her throat, moving between her breasts, circling her navel. She gasped at every touch, her hips lifting involuntarily, seeking the source of this new pleasure. When I finally pressed it against her clit, she screamed, her back arching off the bed and her hands clutching the sheets. I watched her face, watched her mouth open in a silent cry, watched her lose herself completely to the sensation. I held her there, on the edge, bringing her close and then backing off, again and again, until she was begging, literally begging, her voice raw and broken.
“Please, Paige, please, I need to come, please let me come, I’ll do anything, please...”
I let her come then, pressing the vibrator hard against her, holding it there as she thrashed and screamed and soaked the sheets beneath her. After, I removed the blindfold and kissed her, tasting her tears, her sweat, and her gratitude.
After a brief recovery that involved a lot of kissing, I showed her the dildo next. It was a realistic one, with simulated flesh, thick and veined. I had her kneel before me while I sat in a chair, watching her, instructing her. “Show me how you would suck it,” I said, my voice firm, commanding. “Show me what you can do.”
She was hesitant at first, embarrassed, but she wanted to please me, wanted to learn. She took it in her hands, feeling the weight of it, the texture. Then she opened her mouth and took the head inside, her eyes on mine, seeking approval. I nodded, encouraging her, and she began to move, her tongue circling the tip, her lips sliding down the shaft, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. She was clumsy, inexperienced, but eager, so eager, and the sight of her on her knees before me, my daughter, my sister, sucking a fake cock to please me, made me so wet I could feel it dripping down my thighs.
“Good girl,” I murmured, and she moaned around the dildo, the vibration traveling through the silicone. “Such a very good girl. Now take it deeper. Relax your throat. Let me see how much you can take.”
She tried, she gagged, she tried again. By the end of an hour, she could take most of it, her eyes watering, her mascara running, her lips swollen and red. I was trembling with desire, barely able to contain myself. I took the dildo from her, slick with her saliva, and I had her lie back on the bed.
“I’m going to fuck you with this,” I told her, my voice low and dangerous. “And you’re going to take it. You’re going to take all of it. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes wide, her legs falling open. “Yes, please, I want it. I want you to fuck me.”
I started slow, pressing just the head against her entrance, watching her face, watching her stretch to accommodate the girth. She was tight, so tight, her virginity only recently lost to my fingers and tongue, her body still learning. I worked it in slowly, inch by inch, until she was full, until she was moaning and writhing and begging for more.
I fucked her with the dildo then, slow and deep, watching her face, learning the angle that made her gasp, the depth that made her scream. I used my other hand on her clit, rubbing her in time with my thrusts, building her up until she was sobbing with pleasure, until she came with the dildo buried deep inside her, her cunt clamping down on it, her juices running down the shaft to wet my hand.
I still felt so guilty.
I knew I would never stop.
Over the coming days and weeks, we began to play games, roleplays that allowed us to explore the dynamic growing between us, the power exchange that felt as natural as breathing. Some mornings, she was the naughty student and I was the disciplinarian. She would wear one of my button-down shirts, unbuttoned to show her cleavage, and she would sit at my kitchen table, swinging her legs, pretending not to pay attention while I lectured her about her grades.
“You’ve been very bad,” I would say, standing over her, my hand on her shoulder, then sliding down to grip her neck. “You haven’t been paying attention. You haven’t been doing your work. What do you think happens to bad girls, Amelia?”
“They get punished,” she would whisper, her eyes downcast, her breath quickening.
“That’s right,” I would say, and I would bend her over the table, pull down her shorts, and spank her bare ass until she was pink and squirming, until she was begging for more, until she was so wet I could see it glistening on her thighs. The spanking would turn into fingering, my fingers sliding into her from behind while she gripped the table edge, her face pressed against the wood, her moans muffled. Then I would fuck her with my tongue or a dildo, right there, bent over the table, hard and fast, claiming her, owning her, always reminding her who she belonged to.
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