Chapter 1

“Mom!” Caitlin said, “he’s fucking doing it again.”

At the sound, Brad’s mother stormed up the stairs and into her son’s room. He was hurriedly trying to hide the evidence, but as he stuffed his sister’s panties underneath his pillow, his mother grabbed them out of his hand.

“Christ, Bradley,” she said, too exhausted to even be angry, “we talked about this.”

“Sorry Mom,” Bradley said, hanging his head. Not from remorse, however - he’d worked out that if he looked down while his mother was talking to him, he had a clear view down his mother’s top. Her huge tits were so close, so close that he could reach out and grab them ... but he held back, figuring he was in enough trouble for the day.

Maybe tomorrow he’d find some excuse to “brush against them”, get a proper feel of the tits he’d been eyeing off for so long.

Fifteen minutes of lecturing later, his mother was gone. Making sure to close the door the whole way this time, he reached under his mattress, and pulled out the bra he’d pilfered from his mother’s laundry basket the night before.

He was going to coat it with his cum, let it dry, and put it back in her clean pile. The image of her walking around all day with his semen pressed up against her skin was enough to get him off within just a few minutes ... Once he was done, he considered jerking off again, but the need had passed. He briefly considered sending his sister a dick pic - he’d sent her one a few weeks ago, and the knowledge that she’d seen his cock (and her angry reaction) had been so good, it had been worth losing his rights to borrow the family car.

Bradley was a pervert. It had reached the point where his family had stopped being grossed out by his antics, and just resignedly accepted it as a part of having a son. To make matters worse, his sister Caitlin was a golden child. She was head cheerleader, popular with everyone: her peers, boys, even managing to avoid the typical high-school dramas and getting along with the rest of the squad.

Where Bradley was shunned by the entire school as a known sleaze-bag, she was the beloved perfect model of what a teenager should be.

She was an ideal specimen of attractiveness as well. Tall, blonde, slim and muscular - her clean lines were only broken up by the chest she’d inherited from her mother, but she even managed to own that, dressing to emphasize her huge breasts. Bradley had a habit of “accidentally” walking in on her in the shower. Once she’d even decided to experiment with ignoring him, turning her back and letting him look at her perfect ass - she’d almost thrown up when she turned back around a few minutes later and he was gone ... leaving strings of semen on the shower door.

Bradley hadn’t been punished for that incident - he suspected she’d either been so grossed out that she couldn’t even bring herself to tell their parents, or that she’d been worried her actions would be seen as encouraging him.

Either way, she’d bought a lock for the bathroom door after that, and he’d never been able to repeat the experience.

Instead of jerking off once more, Bradley decided to keep translating the book he’d found in the attic. When he wasn’t being a world-class pervert, Bradley was a hobbyist linguist - he’d originally taken a language class because he thought the teacher was hot, but to his surprise he’d really gotten into it.

His family were happy he’d found a hobby, and happily paid for the various textbooks and website subscriptions that encouraged him to do something - anything - aside from torment his sister.

It didn’t help his popularity at school, of course - even before he’d earned himself a permanent place at the bottom of the social ladder for his attitude and actions towards his women, he’d been heading there with his geeky pursuits and total lack of social skills.

Everything he did was a disappointment to his parents - they’d wanted a son who was popular, handsome, and good at sports. What they’d gotten, instead, was Bradley.

He had long since resigned himself to his place in life, and now just enjoyed the freedom it gave him. When no one has any expectations of you, you can do anything, and so he would spend his evenings stealing his family members’ underwear, crudely propositioning his sister, and - when the mood struck - translating ancient tomes.

Currently, he was on a page that had two figures in the middle, one standing imposingly above the other. A single word was written around the page - the same word, again and again.

“Let’s see,” he said, furrowing his brow. “This font looks like prototypical Greek, but it’s like someone who didn’t speak the language trying to translate it into ... what is that, Latin?”

He consulted one of the many foreign dictionaries he had on his shelf, hidden behind a stack of porno magazines.

“Change? Is that what it’s ... oh wait, no: switch! That’s the ticket. Switch. Switch. Switch.”

As he read the word over and over, a strange tingling sensation went up his arm, and he was suddenly overcome by an intense drowsiness.

With a yawn, he closed the book and switched off the light.

Must have overdone it today, he thought to himself, laying down and falling asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. Had he stayed awake for just a minute or two longer, he would have seen a strange glow come from the book, a glow which quickly started filling the room.

The next morning, Bradley woke up to a strange sight.

His sister was in front of him, an odd leer on her face. He sat up with a start - something was wrong. She never came into his room.

Never.

“Hey Caitlin...” he said cautiously. “What’s up?”

“Just watching you sleep,” she said. “You know you get a hard-on in the morning?”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, too weirded out to register the purr in her voice. “It’s called morning wood.”

“I like it,” she said, and moved one hand down between her legs. “It gets me wet.”

What the fuck? he thought to himself, but before he could respond, he could hear his mother walking down the hall.

Caitlin immediately moved her hand out from between her legs, but made no efforts to leave - she continued standing there, an odd look on her face.

“Caitlin!” their mother said, “oh God, you’re not in Bradley’s room again are you? You know how creepy that is, honey. Just let your brother wake up in peace, okay?”

“Sure Mom,” Brad’s sister said with a roll of her eyes. Bradley just continued to stare at her, confused, as she walked out, stopping at the doorway to glance at his morning hard-on once more.

That was weird... he thought to himself, but after running through the morning’s events for a few minutes, decided it must have been the remnant of a dream. His sister coming into his room and talking about a boner? That was exactly the kind of scenario that showed up regularly in his night-time fantasies.

Dismissing the thought, he hid in the hallway until he saw his mother leave her room, and then sneaked in to switch out one of her clean bras with the one he’d plastered the previous night.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Bradley spent half the day sitting in the front of the class (when he had a hot teacher he could ogle) and the other half sitting at the back, drawing tits in his schoolbooks and fantasizing about the girls in the seats next to him.

To his surprise, when they caught him checking them out, they didn’t roll their eyes or call on the teacher like they normally would. They just ignored him, continuing with their work as if they hadn’t noticed anything at all. One of them even smiled back at him.