The continuing saga of how my incestual feelings for my siblings ruined my life. Causing me to be too busy having sex with them over all these decades to ever marry, leave our million acre ranch, or even get dressed on some warm summer days.

Six (April 1977) – The closet. – 2212 words by LLois

It happened the Tuesday right after my confirmation in church. The day when, with my entire family in attendance– almost two dozen people, brothers, sisters, cousins, parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents– I was called up before the congregation. There the minister asked if I accepted the ‘Articles of Faith’, and if I promised to “put away childish things and live my life as a young adult in accordance with the doctrines of the church and thus become an adult member of the church...”

Two days after answering in the affirmative I was wondering if in keeping their promise to me, my brothers and sisters were tempting me to break the promise I had made.

They had actually promised to show me on my birthday– which had been about two weeks earlier– but without telling me what it was. Only that it was essential that I see it and that I needed to be a “grown-up” beforehand. My argument that I had already completed confirmation class and entered my fifteenth year fell on deaf ears. ‘The Secret’ that would be revealed to me remained with my older brothers and sisters.

First, I should set the scene and tell you who we are:

It was April of 1977, a couple of weeks after my 14th birthday. My Confirmation Sunday had to wait until after Easter which had been the 10th. I was finishing up the eighth grade at North Middle School. My brother George who would be 16 in May, and my brother Hugh who would be 17 in July, were a freshman and a sophomore at East High. Cousin Paul– his mom is my father’s little sister– had just turned 15 in February and was in the same class as George. My sister Monica, who would be 16 in June, was also in that class at East. My cousin– and technically, although we keep it a family secret, half-sister– Eva was 14, having her birthday in January. My dad is her father and her mother is my mom’s sister. She is one of my two best friends on earth and in eighth grade with me. These were my tour guides.

But as always my brothers and sisters were true to their word. That Tuesday after my confirmation, when mom and dad were out doing something with grandma and grandpa, my brothers and sisters took me to the closet in the downstairs family room. Using a key that Hugh, my oldest brother, had secretly “borrowed” and had copied, he opened the door into a world that I had never dreamed existed. That small locked closet was my parent’s “toy room” where they meticulously put away their toys. Sacred items that they had carefully cleaned after use and sought to keep out of the reach and view of children.

It was simply the most amazing thing that I had ever seen in my life. There were shoe boxes of Polaroids. Photographs of my mother and father, aunt and uncle, grandmother and grandfather. Pictures of them ... Of them all engaged in various forms of sexual activity with one another. I held a picture of my uncle– Paul’s father holding my mother’s hips as his penis was probably inside of her. At the same time my father was holding her hair up out of the way as she sucked his cock. I wondered who took the photo.

In another, my father was clearly screwing my grandmother– his mother. In a third, my grandfather was apparently fucking my aunt– his daughter, as she sucked on my father– her brother’s dick. In a fourth my uncle was ... He was fucking my mother ... In the ass ... There were pictures of my my mother, and my aunts ... Even my grandmother with their mouths around what appeared to be every penis available– present company excluded. Mom also seemed to have her mouth in the crotch of her sister, and my father’s sister, and my father’s mother. Sometimes in pairs, sometimes in groups of three to too many to get in the frame.

Moving to a different box changed the theme of the Polaroids within. In one my mother was tied face down to a sawhorse or something. She was being flogged by her father. There was a picture of my mother laying on the sofa ... The sofa that was three feet away from me. She was sucking grandpa’s penis as grandma flogged her pussy or belly. In another shoe-box there was a photograph of my mother about to sit on one of our upstairs kitchen chairs. The chair had a dildo so big I could hardly imagine how she could get it inside. But she was smiling for the camera and holding her pussy lips apart with both hands and she had the tip inside. Holding the rings in her pussy lips...

In another box there were close up photographs of my mother and father, aunt and uncle, and grandmother showing off piercings in their genitals. Well, this explained why mom, who was never shy, and often walked from her room to the bath room in just her bikini panties, never seemed to take them off. Apparently there were six small holes in her pussy lips that contained ... Well looking at the pictures I guess depending on my father or grandfather’s mood either three or six silvery metal rings.

I stared at a photograph of my mom and aunt flanking grandma. All three women had bald crotches with silver rings. I wondered whether my father placed the rings in mom, or if his father did. Or my uncle. It didn’t seem like something that was done in the jewelry department at K-mart as my ears had been. In close-ups my father’s sister was wearing the same exact type of rings. In another my father’s penis had a large Prince Albert ring– Hugh smiled as he told me what it was called– coming out of his pee-hole. And a thick bar– Hugh said it was a Pallang– going side to side through dad’s penile head. I wondered how much it hurt to have that done, and I wondered how it felt for both of them when he put it inside of her.

Then I thought about the parents of other kids I went to school with, and what the kids told me about how things were at their homes. I wondered if my parents had found the answer. I know people rarely brag about how happy things are, but it seemed like everyone had complaints. How different my parents had always seemed. My parents really liked each other and they were close friends with my aunts and uncles. We all really liked my grands. How my aunts and uncles were always doing things with my parents and grands.