It’s History Ch. 01-03

Author's Forward: For my longtime fans, this one is a lot lighter on TG than I had originally planned, but it kicks in right at the end of chapter three. If TG not being the main focus is a dealbreaker, you may want to wait for the public release of the second half. I'll make it up in the next story, I promise!

An actual serious content warning: this story contains themes of siblings doing things siblings should not be doing. If that's something you don't want to read, please be warned.

It's History

- A Smutty Novella -

By Razmagurk

= Chapter 1 =

Have you ever wanted things to have gone differently?

I think we all have. It's human nature.

As mechanical as it makes us seem, we all have a history. Each choice and happenstance is like a little clockwork gear, spinning to make us tick the way we do. Who hasn't wanted to wind back those gears and spin them off in a new direction?

But if you changed your past, wouldn't you also be changing yourself? At what point would you stop being you? Who would you be if your past wasn't yours at all?

This are questions I had discovered the answers to the the hard way.

It seems so much like a dream now, a slice of history that never happened. It all began in the school library. That's where I found it, that damn book. Okay, maybe finding a book in a library isn't that strange, but this one was different. This was a book that would change everything.

I'd like to imagine this presents me as some kind of wise scholar, this sagacious figure pouring over obscure texts, but honestly, it was my senior year and I think I'd only ever used the library twice. No, the truth was that the only thing I was there to study was the body of Leah Campbell.

Ah, Leah Campbell. If heaven did one thing right it was her. She was this shining light of color in a world of drab greys. Her smile - her optimism - it lit up like a lighthouse on a cloudy day. Her hair was the color of summer, her laugh was the ringing of bells. I could go on, but I'll spare you the bad poetry.

The important thing is that I was a young man in love.

And, being a young man in love, I was in the library, hiding behind one of the bookshelves, staring at her through the stacks. If anyone walked by, they'd see me getting way too excited about french geography.

She was sat at one of the central study tables. A throng of lesser girls was gathered around her like the last supper, but for all their beauty they just couldn't compete. The weather had taken a turn for the hot and Leah's bare legs beneath her short, summery skirt simply could not be ignored. It was rude of me yes, but I defy you to find a man who could resist. Those were the legs that won the 100m dash.

Not that the rest of her wasn't just as perfect. She was the quintessential girl next door. She didn't dress to show off like all the other girls. No plunging necklines or bare midriffs or heavy makeup. She didn't need any of that.

She had a body worth showing off, don't get me wrong. Even with how she downplayed her boobs,

they were still the nicest set in our class, and her butt, complimented by her wide hips and typically only glimpsed at in gym shorts, was a perfect heart.

It was rare seeing her in the library, but we had a bio test coming up and she always made the time to study here if she could fit it in between debate and track. It was rarer seeing me here, but my presence was no coincidence. Today was the day. Today I was going to ask her out. Today I made history.

"Your sure you want to go through with this?" a hand clapped my shoulder "I mean, come on Lucas, you barely even know this girl."

As caught up in Leah's orbit as I was, I had half-forgotten Liam was there. Moral support, he had said. I was pretty sure he just wanted to make sure I had the opportunity to bail out before I made a total fool of myself.

He was a good friend, but he didn't know what it was like. He had never struggled asking out girls. They turned him down, sure, but he had never struggled with the asking.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." I said. It was true. I'd been pining for this girl since I first laid eyes on her in freshman year. We shared a few classes and knew each other about as well as any two random classmates. I'd never had the courage to try to be more. I mean, come on, she was beauty incarnate and I was, well, me.

That was all going to change.

"I just hate seeing you beat yourself up like this." he sighed.

"We'll look back on this one day and laugh, I'm sure."

If ever I had a chance, it was now. Lacey DeCarlo's parents were out of town and it was going to be the biggest party of the year. Ever since that drama with the cheer team she hadn't really been going to parties like this, but absolutely everybody was going to be there. It was going to be bigger than prom. I had to ask her.

"Alright, well, listen," Lucas glanced down at his watch. "As much as I love watching you spy on this girl, I've got to get going. Leslie's done practice soon and I told her I'd give her a lift to the mall. You can come too if you want. You don't have to stand here and be a creep all day."

"You know nothing of love." I stuck out my tongue.

"If this is love," he laughed, "I want nothing to do with it. If I ever become so completely obsessed with someone, I want you to shoot me, okay? It'll be for my own good. Still, best of luck. Let us know how it goes. If you do pull it off, we'll be amazed."

He patted me on the back one last time then left. I turned my attention back to Leah.

I wasn't obsessed, was I? Okay, maybe just a little. He was right though: I had waited long enough. If I didn't make my move soon, I was going to lose my chance.

I took a deep breath and failed to push down the anxiety boiling away at the back of my mind. The room felt uncomfortably warm.

I stepped out from behind the stacks strode forward.

The world slowed as she brushed back a stray hair, a laugh lilting from her perfect pink lips. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of that grin. With the way my heart was pounding, I was surprised she couldn't hear it even all the way over there.

Then she turned and looked in my direction.

I pulled my eyes off her as fast as I could. Oh god, had she seen me staring? I wanted to freeze up, I wanted to run. I had to force myself to keep walking. My breathing grew tight and my movements stiffened. Why was this so difficult?

My vision began to blur. This whole stupid plan suddenly seemed so foolish. What the hell was I thinking? That I was going to be this shining knight, swooping in and offering her an excuse to go to this party she probably didn't even care about? That I'd admired her from afar since freshman year and I'd really like to get to know her better? God, I sounded like such a creep. Oh my god, was I a creep?

I looked back over at her and immediately regretted it. She was looking right at me. I was a deer in headlights as we locked eyes. She smiled. A choir of angels lifted me to heaven.

And then I fell.

I tripped. I stumbled. I rolled. There was a groan and then a crash as I was buried in a rain of hard heavy books.

I lay there in mute embarrassment, eyes shut, praying for death.

"Oh my god!" a voice rose out of the surprised laughter. "Are you alright?"

I opened my eyes. An angel stared down at me. Leah's beautiful face, shining with concern from behind her dark-rimmed glasses.

Fuck. Don't say something stupid. Don't say something stupid.

"Did anyone get the license of that truck that just hit me?"

Fuck.

Leah laughed. She had a laugh that made it feel like somehow everything would be okay.

"Lucas, right?" she held out a hand. I gawked at it. It looked so soft, so warm. "Are you okay?"

Like the idiot that I was, I didn't take it. Beet-red, I stumbled awkwardly to my feet under my own power, brushing off the dust and trying to play off the most embarrassing moment of my life as just a minor misstep. The big stupid fake grin on my stupid face just made it look like I was too stupid to realize what had just happened. I felt so stupid. The whole library was staring at me. A few had their phones out, filming.

I was shaking. I needed to get out of there.

"T-thanks!" I said, hand scratching at the back of my head. "I think I found what I was looking for!" I held up one of the books that had crashed down upon me, a dusty black-leather volume.

"Well, if you could find it in that mess, I'm glad." she laughed again.

"Y-yeah!"

There was a full twelve seconds of silence, and then I turned and ran, book still in hand, mess left behind for someone else to clean up. My face stung, my body hurt, but that was nothing compared to the blow to my ego.

If only I had realized the power I was walking away with.

-

"Oh my god!" my sister laughed at me from across the table, "You chickened out again? This is what, the fifth time?"

"The third." I corrected "It's the third."

"Pathetic! I can't believe we're related."

"Lexi!" dad admonished, stabbing the air with a soggy carrot, "Don't talk to your brother that way. Apologize."

"Sorry, brobro." she laughed again, more salt on the wound, "but come on, your never going to survive university if you can't even talk to a girl. You're not going to hit the ball if you don't swing the bat."

I cast my eyes down to dad's awful cooking. What did she know? She was only a couple of years older than me. She'd barely even dated.

She was pretty enough, I guessed. At least, Liam certainly seemed to think so. I'd give you that she had a decent face, but at the end of the day there was just nothing about her that stood out. She'd been passed over for prettier girls her whole life.

It didn't help that she had been what our mom had called a late bloomer. More like a non-bloomer. She was flatter than a prepubescent boy. Her acidic tongue had been a defence against all the teasing. She was popular enough, but it had been an uphill battle.

She caught me staring at her lack of boobs and scowled. I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue. She did the same right back. God, she was so immature.

We used to get along so well, but these days it felt like the only reason she came home to visit was to criticize me. As though she had the right - she had run away to college as soon as she had the chance. The only reason she was home now was out of obligation to dad. He'd asked her to try to visit once a week. We were lucky to see her in any given month.

I looked at the empty seat where mom used to sit. She'd always been a taming influence on Lexi. Ever since she passed away it was like she was rebelling against her for leaving us, as though she had a choice. Dad tried to keep her in line, but he just didn't have any teeth.

"I didn't chicken out." I said weakly, chasing a pea around with my fork. "I just revaluated the context and decided for a different approach. I'm not giving up, I just need to wait for a better time"

"Isn't the big party in like, a week?"

"Three days." I swallowed.

"So, you're chickening out is what I'm hearing."

I sighed.

That was the worst part. She was right. Did she think I didn't know? With today's utter humiliation it would take a miracle.

Lucky for me, one was about to occur.

I hadn't even realized I'd run off with the thing until late that evening. I pulled it out of my bag by accident while I was doing homework. I was pretty sure I had dropped it at some point in my retreat, but hey, there it was.

It was a thick hardcover volume bound in dusty black leather. The cover bore, in faux-gold leaf, a single word: HISTORY. It had no edition, no author, and - I flipped through it - every page was completely empty.

"Ow!" I jerked my hand back. Damn thing had given me a papercut. Great, now I'd gotten blood smeared on it.

I turned it over in one hand as I shook out my finger. Was it some kind of fancy notebook? It seemed like the kind of paper you'd normally see in sketchbooks; thick, rough, easy to write in. I was about to toss it aside when I got another look at the cover: HISTORY As Written By Lucas Baker.

How had I missed that the first time? It hadn't said that before, had it? The author had the same name as me? I opened the book back up. What author? The book was blank.

I turned it over to the front. Maybe I had missed some publishing info or copyright or something as well?

There, on the first page, written large in the same gothic font as the cover, were the words "The History of," then a large space and then "According to Lucas Baker."

I ran a finger along the page. It knew my name. How did it know my name? Was this some kind of prank? No. I shook my head. That was silly. Obviously it had belonged to some other Lucas Baker. Some kind of custom history notebook ordered and then lost in the library before it ever got used. That was all. I closed the thing and pushed it away.

My brain though kept turning over those words. Maybe it was a creative journal? Like a writing exercise? Maybe it wanted me to put my spin on history?

There was something evocative about the idea, even as a hypothetical. If I could dictate history, what would I do? I tapped the butt of my pen against the desk. Nothing too severe. I'd seen the movies. I knew what happened when you fucked with the past. And yet...

I'd be lying if I told you the first thing I thought of wasn't sex. I'm a horny red-blooded teen. If someone was stupid enough to leave me in charge of history, I'd have a harem of beautiful women before the first day was out. My dick throbbed as visions of vivacious vixens danced through my head. I readjusted my seat.

I sighed. In what possible history was I successful with women?

Well, if I could change history, I wouldn't be this awkward loser, that's for sure. I'd be confident and popular and good looking. I'd be... I frowned. When had everything gone wrong? I'd been fine until high school, hadn't I?

Uhg. I buried my head in my hands. I'd make sure today never happened, you can bet on that.

I thought back to dinner. It certainly didn't help that Lexi was always putting me down. We used to get along so great but these days she just seemed to keep everybody at arms length. Perhaps if I'd had some support from the only girl I ever interacted with on the regular, things would have turned out different.

"Alright," I opened the book back up. "I'm going to change history? Let's start with her." Maybe if she hadn't had to struggle her whole life for attention, she'd be less self centered.

- The History of Alexis Engstrom Baker, According to Lucas Baker -

Where to start?

"Alexis Baker was a late bloomer until the eighth grade, when puberty hit her hard and puberty hit her fast. Over the course of one summer she developed a look and style that would, as she grew into it, put even a professional cam-girl to shame."

I spun the pen. It wasn't my best work, but hey, who else was going to read it? It was a start. Lexi was always bitching about how much of a struggle it was to fit in. Growing up no one had wanted to hang out with "Less Breast Lex."

Which led me to my next point.

"Most prominent of her new assets were her breasts. The biggest at school by a large margin, they were the kind of boobs other girls were always jealous of and the kind the guys loved. Everybody in highschool always knew she had the best tits and she was very popular because of it."

I laughed. Alright so sue me, I'm a guy. Could you imagine my flat-as-a-board sister with tits like that? A Lexi who never had to fight for attention. I wonder how that would look? She'd be less catty, that's for sure. My creative juices were flowing now.

"Back in 9th grade, Lexi saved her brother from a car accident. That incident made her realize how much she loves him and that she can't live without him. Since then she's always tried to do her best to be as supportive and loving towards him as she can. Nothing makes her as happy as seeing him smile."

There. A perfect little world where Lexi was this caring, doting, supportive sister. What next?

I frowned. I guess I hadn't exactly been the best brother, had I? Ever since mom died and she'd gone off to college we'd been kind of distant.

I frowned again.

"Lexi's mom didn't die two years ago."

Great. Now I had made myself sad. Stupid book.

The damned thing seemed all too eager to slam shut as I pushed it away. There was a rush of wind and a flash of golden light from between the pages. I jumped back.

What the fuck was that? I stared at it, daring it to try that again. I reached down and picked it back up. It looked unharmed. Had some asshole put flash powder on one of the pages? Was that even a thing?

I opened the book back up. Everything seemed the same, except...

"The hell?"

The words written in the book were the same but my handwriting was gone, replaced by the typeset letters in that same weird font as the title. The texture of the paper seemed different too. I ran my finger along it. It had gone from the rough thick paper of a sketchbook to the glossy thin finish of a high-end textbook.

The next page, formerly blank, now bore the same "The History of... according to Lucas Baker." that the first page had before I had marked it up.

I rubbed my head. There was something deeply unsettling about the way the words clung to the page. So, this was... what? Some kind of self publishing notebook? This didn't sit well with me at all. Who would make something like this?

Carefully, I closed the book back up. This time there was no flash.

Whatever this thing was, it was giving me the creeps.

I sighed and looked over at the time. As fun as it was to imagine how things might have been, I had enough real-life problems to worry about. It was getting late and I still needed to finish my homework. Instead though I masturbated - visions of horny hypothetical harem-girls still hanging heavily in my head - and went to bed.

-

I awoke to a rapping at the door. It was an unfamiliar knock. Soft, gentle, almost apologetic. I dismissed it as a dream, even as the rising sun leaked in through the blinds. Everybody else in the house just barged right in.

"Brobro?" the door opened an exploratory crack.

"Lexi?" I stirred. Lexi had gone back to university last night after dinner. What was she doing back?

I fumbled to hide my morning wood as her head peaked into the room.

"Can I come in?" her voice was soft and gentle. I'd never heard her speaking this way before.

"Of course. Is everything alright?"

Her hips swayed as she stepped inside and silently slid shut the door. I stood there blinking like an idiot while the remnants of sleep escaped my brain, then my jaw dropped.

Lexi had tits.

More than that, she was... she was hot.

I had always known on an intellectual level that Lexi was - by objective standards - decently attractive. I'd never taken the notion any further though - she was my sister for gods sake. The thought of her naked was gross. This though... this wasn't the Lexi I'd grown up with.

It was like the girl who had been playing Lexi all these years had been replaced by a supermodel porn star lookalike.

Her hair was longer and fuller, falling around her shoulders in messy brown waves that accented the softer femininity of her face. Her nightshirt, a too-tight top with a low cleavage-inducing neckline, struggled to restrain the truly titanic tits jutting out braless from her chest as they jiggled and bounced with each little motion. They were like two perfect watermelons, more beautiful than anything I could have imagined.

If I hadn't been so distracted by her swinging hooters, I may have noticed how well they complimented her wider hips and pert ass, but for now I simply couldn't tear my gaze away from the absurd real-estate of that cleavage.