Breeding Brenda

PREFACE:

This is pretty different to my other work. It is a requested piece with a fairly specific setup and new kinks. It was an interesting challenge for me to write something out of my comfort zone; how it developed surprised even me. I hope at least some of my audience enjoy it, although I know it won't suit many - that's fine, there'll still be more Alice to come.

Content and kinks: Incest, breeding, impregnation, lactation, manipulation, extreme voluptuousness.

P.S. The fantasy is everything.

*

'Are you going to cum?' she asked. A murmur to the pillow, to the wall.

'Yes,' her brother groaned in her ear, thrusting deep into her pussy from behind. His thighs rubbed against the backs of hers, his groin pressed against her meaty buttcheeks. Rough hands squeezed and groped her huge, sweating breasts.

'Promise to pull out this time,' she said. Almost a beg.

'I will.'

'You said that last time . . . and . . .' All the other times, she thought, but she didn't think it fair to say out loud. Tom tried his best. It's just . . . things got away from him.

'I'll pull out for sure,' he grunted. His hand moved to her belly, caressing it as though it were still huge. But it'd been weeks.

Brenda panted into the pillow. Her brother's hands were all over her breasts - bigger than ever before, and that was saying something. She could feel them dripping milk onto the sheets. Could feel Tom's hands getting soaked and sticky as he squeezed it out, coaxing her sore, fatly engorged nipples. Milk almost as thick as cream sprayed out as he fucked her.

She wanted to warn him, to remind him of the consequences - one more in a long, long stream of consequences. But she knew from experience it would only make things worse. The last time she had said, 'You don't want to knock me up again, do you?', her brother's fat warm cock had jerked inside her, pulsing, firing thick spurts of cum as though to her very words.

He wouldn't do it again. Not now.

Not after their fourteenth child.

As she shuddered, as her brother milked her, fucked her deeply, got ready to cum - and to pull out, for certain this time . . . as the throes of her own orgasm, so closely entwined with his, shivered and trembled towards the finish line, Brenda's mind trailed back through time and space.

How had it ever gotten this far?

*

Her own brother. Technically her half-brother, but she'd always thought of him as her brother through and through, despite the fact they had different mothers. Tom's hadn't stayed around; Brenda's was still in the picture for the pair of them - her mom had arguably raised them both, even though Tom was eight years older than Brenda.

And that's the way it should've stayed: a relatively happy, relatively functional, family unit.

Until Brenda's body started developing. Really developing.

It had taken her quite some time to realise Tom - dark-haired, dark-eyed, well-built Tom, recipient of many girls' crushes and infatuations - couldn't keep his eyes off his younger sister's rapidly blossoming teenage body. She'd told herself it was just in her head; he was her brother, after all. But the compliments, the practically drooling stares, escalated. He would frequently deliberately "brush" past her in the narrow hallway or on the even narrower stairs, so her big soft breasts pressed against him - or, if she turned around to avoid this, her oversized bottom became the victim to her brother's slow, playful passage.

Because Brenda didn't feel comfortable making an issue of it all, and causing family drama, she let these early infractions slide. Perhaps things might've been different if she'd nipped it in the bud there and then, but she doubted it. When she did eventually protest, it seemed all too late. By that point her brother's hands were all over her at every opportunity, whenever their parents' backs were turned. Her jiggling ass squeezed and playfully slapped, her big teen tits groped, her brother chuckling. Just messing around. Just being silly. Maybe, Brenda wondered, brother-sister relationships were often like this. The pair of them were just affectionate, that's all. Even if most of the affection came from him, it wasn't like she hated it. It was just . . . odd.

And besides, other girls desperately wanted the attention from him that she received. She tried not to admit to herself that she liked it a little bit. Handsome Tom? Showing such affection to her, his own little sister? Part of her - a rebellious, yet anxious-to-please part - found it impossibly flattering. The influence he had on her couldn't be denied.

As months of escalating treatment went by, it almost became the new normal; that was, with the boundary of acceptable behaviour ever forging forward, it meant that relatively less inappropriate behaviour, such as Tom grabbing her tits, or pulling her bumcheeks apart when he hugged her, were normalised. It was the new things happening that were always the concern, not whatever had been happening a month or so ago.

It was the question of a frog boiling in a pot, someone gradually heating the water so it didn't notice. Could a sibling - even a half-sibling - advance their behaviour towards you so gradually that you don't ever stop to say, "Hang on, what's going on?" until he was already balls deep inside you?

Maybe if she'd had more friends, closer friends, who she could confide in and they'd tell her something was off, she might've been more aware of things. But she really liked Tom. He was wonderful. He could make her laugh with little effort. Could make her squirm and giggle as he squeezed her boobs or spanked her bottom, sending her squealing and running off. Brenda had a vague worry that people might not understand. If confronted - and she would be, much later - of course she'd say that she wanted it, wanted him. Tom was charming, handsome, well-hung . . . But she didn't find out that last part for a while.

Ultimately, in hindsight, there was nothing to be done. Tom had become obsessed with her, unable to stay away from his little sister's unnaturally busty, fat-bottomed teenage body, and even she had returned enough of the smaller affections that she still didn't tell anybody when one day he pushed his way inside her, opened up her tight unprotected pussy and sank to the hilt. A low, earthy groan escaped him then, the sound of a man in a kind of delirium. At least that's how it sounded to Brenda. Like a man entering the gates of Heaven.

Like a man in love.

She hadn't been thinking. She assumed neither of them had. Honestly, who really thinks about contraception during their first proper time? And he was hers; other boys that had appeared in Brenda's life didn't count. Tom was the real deal. The only man who mattered in her life, who she had grown up with; always her guide, her best friend . . . her lover.

'I'm going to knock you up. My little sister. I'm going to impregnate you.'

She always thought she'd imagined the words, breathed hotly in her ear as her brother pumped her soaking pussy, as he rose to climax. They never made sense as something he would actually have said; the words would continuously appear to her, though, circling in her dreams, even years hence. Sometimes they were the first words she'd wake up to, or the last words she'd hear in her mind as she fell asleep.

She could still picture in her head his flushed face, breathless, drowning in his adoration for her. Could still hear his shuddering moan as he released himself deep inside her. Could feel his cum, thick, hot, squirting within her pussy, seeming to never end. His hands on her tits, his mouth finding hers.

A one off, she told herself after he had finished. Her pussy was overflowing.

A one off.

But she would experience the sensation of his cum inside her many, many more times.

It was out of their hands, anyway. Looking back, it seemed their destiny together was set the moment her brother filled her fertile teenage pussy with cum. The imagined dream-words had come true.

Her brother had indeed made a teen mom out of her.

*

Brenda hadn't realised for some time that she was pregnant. It was hard to say which time had caused it for sure, as Tom had been filling her pussy with cum at least twice a day since that first fuck, as though eager to make sure - but no, that was silly. The pregnancy had been unplanned, an accident.

Yet something told her that she'd been knocked up from the very first time. The dream words circled, prophetic. I'm going to knock you up. My little sister. I'm going to impregnate you.

The strange, excited smile Tom constantly gave her almost made her feel that he knew before she did. She took the test in private, and then told him the result. His mouth dropped. He didn't speak for a few moments, which didn't help Brenda's anxieties. She needed him, more than ever. Her rock. It was his seed that had done it. There was no one else there for her.

Then, without further hesitation, he pulled her in, giving her no moment to speak. His mouth clamped to hers, his lips mashing, tongue roaming with desire. She could feel joy emanating from every pore of him. He couldn't keep the smile from his kiss.

Her brother fucked her then and there, in her bed, spurting fiercely inside her. There was no point asking him to stop. It was too late.

They kept it, of course.

Brenda wanted to tell their parents that it belonged to some other boy, but Tom wouldn't have it. He stood strong, held her in his arms, her breasts squishing into his chest. 'It's ours,' he said. 'We belong together. And I,' he added with a grin, hands fiercely roaming, 'can't get enough of all this.' And he made love to her again. And again she was filled. Cum soaked the bedsheets.

Their father, quietly furious, cut ties with the both of them. It was something Brenda never got over, not truly, although Tom never seemed to care. He had never seemed that close with their father; or perhaps he was just always more focused on what he had gained - a little sister-lover to breed - than on what he had lost.

But no, that was unfair. She was more than that to him, of course. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, though the words didn't seem adequate to convey the relationship. Unfortunately, silly laws meant they couldn't ever get married. It was absurd when they loved each other as much as they did.

Brenda's mother was good to the both of them, though. She hadn't tried to convince their father - at least not that they'd seen - but she visited them on occasion, and privately had told them both to keep following their hearts. And she was always happy to see her grandkids - although she would come to express great wonder at how many there would prove to be.

Tom and Brenda moved in together after revealing their big surprise to their parents. Brenda upset, Tom taking the lead, getting them a place within a single day. As though he'd already had it ready. A home of their own - well, rented, but all to themselves. A place of comfort, safety, and love.

A place where he could grope and fuck her silly, at any time, any room, no matter what she was doing. If she had thought he found her strangely irresistible before, now he showed his true passion. There was not a single moment in that first month by themselves that her pussy wasn't dripping with cum.

After that, things began to vary. With Brenda now thoroughly pregnant, Tom often fucked her ass instead, driving into her tight, warm bottom as she moaned, emptying his load inside her as she groaned with the ache, sometimes orgasming herself as she strummed her clit. The sensation was overpowering. A heady, intense buttfucking of his busty little sister.

And busty she was. As the pregnancy developed, her already large tits grew further, not to mention her thighs and ass - and of course her belly. She wasn't a fan of the changes; she felt too big, and heavy, and sweaty, and it only got worse. Whenever she complained these things to Tom, he just got hard, squeezing and rubbing her body, and stuffing himself inside her without ceremony.

Her maternity clothes left much to be desired. Tom bought them for her, but instead of the loose, flowing fabrics she expected, Brenda found herself bulging obscenely out of tight, tiny tops that didn't have a hope in hell of containing her ever-growing breasts. Bras were just too uncomfortable, so, with Tom's enthusiastic agreement, she never wore them. The tops either stretched over her belly or, as it enlarged over the months, simply gave up on it, retreating back up to the tits and so entirely exposing her protruding stomach - preferable, really, if only because it was more comfortable. Her pregnancy wear seemed to become, piece by piece, extreme crop tops. She hated escalators particularly. Anyone coming up when she was going down would be able to make out the lower parts of her boobs, so stuck out was the fabric from her body.

As for her lower half, Tom thought it acceptable to give her incredibly figure-hugging leggings that clung to every contour of her thighs, crotch and bottom. They stretched with her, but they may as well have been painted on. The cling-film-thin material clutched to the crack of her ass, and gave her a large and embarrassingly vivid camel toe.

She'd asked Tom for something more suitable, but he'd said it was the best he could find for a reasonable price. She took his word for it, not liking shopping herself - she was long used to catcalls because of her figure, but going out now drew even more attention. Apparently there weren't many teenagers out there in the street, flushing and sweating, with huge, swollen, milk-leaking tits bursting out of tank-tops-turned-bikinis, not to mention the big-booty-clinging-skin-tight-leggings, and naked, fully pregnant belly.

When Brenda had finally given birth to her first - grateful for the fact it hadn't been a long, hard birth like many women suffered (partly thanks to the cornucopia of drugs she'd been given) - she naively thought things might get easier. Sadly, raising a child as well as keeping care of the house had been tiring, to say the least. Tom, when he wasn't at work, spent most of the time in the house either playing videogames or fucking her, regardless of matters of convenience. The minute the baby was left to sleep he'd be inside Brenda and close to cumming - clearly worked up ready for the moment he could finally indulge. He'd given her virtually no rest after giving birth before having sex with her again, such was his need to express his love for her.

Her mind addled by weariness, not remotely thinking about risk (as far as she was concerned, she'd had their child, and that was that), Brenda found herself pregnant again, in no time at all after giving birth. The time she'd spent not pregnant had been blink-and-you'd-miss-it.

It was after their second kid was born that Tom really started getting into the fact of his sister's lactation. She was leaking constantly, and due to soreness found that she had to be milked more than the kids could extract from her. Tom took to the challenge with gusto. Brenda had to wash the bedding much more frequently - not to mention wash sofa cushions, wipe kitchen surfaces, mop floors - because of all the breastmilk that Tom squeezed out from her thick protruding nipples whenever he was pumping her butthole. He seemed determined to compete with her tits, pulsing endless amounts of precum into her bottom every time he reamed it with his fat cock.

After their third kid, they stopped buying milk. Tom said it was a waste. He would spray her milk - thicker with each child, becoming almost like cream - into their cups of tea, even over his cereal. Brenda began to feel, at times, like a dairy cow.

Determined to learn from past mistakes - not she could ever consider their children a mistake, merely . . . unplanned . . . Brenda tried to encourage Tom to wear condoms while fucking her. He was stubbornly resistant. She had gotten him to wear a condom a few times, each time saying, 'maybe this time will be different' or, 'let me try this', but it was no use. He started going soft as soon as the condom was on.

Thinner, so-called "invisible" condoms, even trying to coax her brother into staying hard with her dripping tits pushed in his face . . . it didn't make any difference.

'I can't help it,' he bemoaned, yanking off the latest "Like Wearing Nothing At All!" condom and throwing it across the room in disgust. 'A condom is a condom. I swear, any man who says he can't tell when he's wearing one is either lying or never had much sensation to begin with. I lose at least seventy percent sensitivity. At least. It's like doing the washing up wearing rubber gloves. Or eating an expensive restaurant meal while suffering from a bad head cold. You know the meal is supposed to be amazing, but you just can't taste it.' He put his head in his hands.

'Maybe one day they'll invent something where there really isn't any difference to feel,' Brenda said, trying to cheer him up.

'Even if they did . . . my cock would still just know.'

'Know? Know what?'

Tom shook his head, climbing back onto her as he thrust his now bare cock into her pussy. The condom lay forgotten on the floor.

Brenda felt bad for her brother. It crushed her seeing him struggle so, and she resolved to herself not to pressure him into condoms again. She wanted him happy and to stay as enthusiastic as he was when there was no contraception being attempted. It must be so difficult for him. Of course he didn't want to keep breeding her with more and more children, and with his great passion for her, he couldn't not make love to her. But due to what might be a mixture of physiological and psychological hangups, Tom simply couldn't stay hard when his cock wasn't bare inside her.

Eventually, after yet another mishap, Brenda decided to try going on the pill. She'd avoided it before, because her hormone balance could be sensitive, and Tom had always said the contraceptive pill would play havoc with it. But despite Tom's discouragement, Brenda, determined to adopt some responsibility, brought a course of them back from the doctor's.

When she entered the bathroom to take her first pill, she saw Tom already there, holding a medicine bottle. He jerked at her approach, evidently caught off guard.

'What's that?' she'd asked.

He glanced at the bottle, as though seeing it for the first time, then waggled it at her. 'I moved your pills into this. They'll keep longer that way.'

'Oh. Thank you. You think that'll make them more reliable at preventing pregnancy?'

Tom pulled a face. 'I don't think they'll do anything at all, if you ask me.' He reached out and drew her into a warm, fondling embrace. 'You're just too damn fertile,' he added.

The pill was easy enough to swallow. It tasted just like sugar.

That night after taking her first pill, Tom came buckets inside her. She remembered her huge breasts crushed into the sodden bed, her bubble butt jutting upwards as her brother slammed into her pussy from above, driving as deep and powerfully as he could, until he collapsed on top of her, cum oozing out around his shaft. After a minute or two, he used the head of his cock to collect the escaped semen and push it back in, up towards her womb.

This act for some reason made him hard again, and he resumed fucking her. By the end, Brenda felt like she had so much cum pumped into her she was going to burst.

'I hope that pill worked,' she said.

Tom chuckled.

*

Brenda remembered going later that year to a large, fancy soiree with Tom. The children were staying with her mother, who had recently divorced from her father and moved in with another woman. Thankfully, the kids adored their grandmamas (quickly adopting the other woman as their own, as young kids easily do). Brenda was tremendously grateful for the aid in childcare. The sting of her father still wanting no part of her, Tom's or their children's life was still there, but it was an old wound. It was his loss.