The Consanguine Honeytrap

Story Info
A Legitimate Sister-Illegitimate Brother Femdom Intrigue.
5.8k words
4.3
17.8k
32

Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/13/2023
Created 02/27/2023
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Author's Note

This is the 5K+ first chapter of a likely novella of the same name. A 21 yo. rich girl accidentally discovers her father likely sired another child, a currently 20 yo poor boy, in a random one night stand two decades ago. And that now, her father is considering a reproachment with the boy. Something the girl decides she must not let happen. So she resolves to get close to the boy, to seduce him, and to psycho-socio-sexually subjugate him. Something she can do because he lives in the same college town, though he goes to a different college, than she does. Then later she can easily destroy him up close and personal when the time is right. In this initial chapter she lays out her female-led honeytrap for him, with an eye to developing a femdom relationship with him. And crucially, through sexual manipulation, she genetically confirms the identified boy is indeed her half-brother, steeling her resolve to destroy him. A plan she may, or may not, alter later on. If any of this themes are offensive to you, please do not read. If none are, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Richard was a 20 years old business administration junior on a partial athletic scholarship in college trying to make good, when, unknowingly to him, a sexy rich girl he had never met in his life began to plot his personal destruction. His complete academic, athletic, and economic destruction. And even more importantly, his utter psychological, social and sexual destruction. All for Richard having committed the terrible and unforgivable crime of having been born.

For Richard was the only child of a single mother. The product of a one night stand his mother, Rachel, had had while working as a business hotel front desk manager in her early twenties. A night when a rich handsome businessman had set his eyes on her while checking in during a business trip. Quickly seduced her. Knocked her up. And checked out of both the hotel and her life the morning after, as quickly as he had checked in the night before. Never to be seen or heard of again. Following that, only once did Richard's mother try to contact the businessman, a couple of weeks after finding out she was pregnant. Writing a short email to the address he had used to book the hotel room. But she never heard back or got any sort of reply. And deciding that maybe that was for the best, never tried to reach out again.

Rachel never married following that. Even though she was a smart pretty brunette with a kind heart and the drive to better her condition and that of her new child. Yet even with the difficulties of being a young single mother, she managed to make good. Take out a mortgage for a modest house for her family of two. Send her boy to their local school. And since he was both academically gifted and pretty talented in the soccer field, send him to a good, though not elite, college on a partial athletic scholarship. And that is where Richard was at the time this story begins.

Indeed Richard was a good hearted young man who, despite being one of his university's top soccer strikers and having handsome dark looks that were a bit the masculine version of his mother's pretty brunette looks, mostly just kept his head low and stayed out of trouble. As he was keenly aware that for somebody like him, life was a fragile thing. One wrong decision or move, and all his opportunities could go away. And he was so close to getting a good degree. And following that, a good job. And with that he would be able to pay back the student loans that covered his expenses beyond what his scholarship covered. Financially help out his mother, who had done everything for him. And make a life for himself in the land of opportunity, leaving behind the challenges of his modest birth and upbringing.

Yet Richard did not know those hopes and dreams were the very target of a sexy young temptress, a siren, a nymph, a 21 year old rich slim blonde girl named Ashley, that was scheming to take control of his life. Only to wreck it at a moment's notice when it most suited her at some point down the line. All because during a weekend away from her own college and at home with her parents. While searching her father's, Liam's, home office, searching for a bottle of fine Scottish whiskey, a box of prize Cuban cigars, or other such contraband she could share with her friends, Ashley found a folder with files about Richard's mother Rachel. And even more files about Richard himself. And Ashley did not like one bit the information the files seem to contain. The information they seemed to imply.

Indeed, for Ashley, who was also a single child just like Richard, as well 200% her father's daddy's girl, it was a life upending shock to find those files. They seemed to be reports from private investigators, family law attorneys, private bankers, and other agents in the employ of her father, tracking down a putative sexual adventure of his. And a putative offspring of that adventure. Laying out key facts about the woman and her boy. Their address histories. Job and school histories. Various personal habits, from the schedule of their visits to their extended family, to their leisure activities. Information about their income, assets and debts. And even attorney and banker reports on the pros and cons, potential risks and rewards, for a man of Ashley's father position, to seek a reproachment with a presumed illegitimate offspring like the boy. All information, that as Ashley flipped through the pages and committed them to her phone camera as well as her own memory, was cataclysmic to her.

A one page document stood out among the rest. And that was a printed copy of a one paragraph email that the woman named Rachel had written Ashley's father. It was a short missive. Neither needy nor threatening. But in it the woman claimed to be pregnant with Liam's child. And offered Liam the opportunity to reach out back to Rachel for a place in the child's life. For a seat at the table in deciding the child's future. And yet the fact there was no reply. And no further correspondence, led Ashley to wonder whether that was the only contact that there had ever been between them. And yet what most occupied Ashley mind's was the following thought. So, some floozie spread her legs for her dad? And then she claims to be pregnant by him? She is likely just some gold digger who saw a chance to make a quick buck after getting pregnant by a different man she also spread her legs for at about the same time. Even though Ashley knew that her father had a roving eye. And that the tale this woman Rachel was telling was at least plausibly true.

Following that email, only one set of documents stood out even more. And those concerned the boy, who was named Richard. Ashley found out he was about six months younger than she was. Which meant, if the story was true, her father had fucked his mother when Ashley's own mother was about six months pregnant with Ashley. That cannot be true! Thought Ashley. Recoiling at the fact that seemed to imply her father hurtfully betrayed her as a child, even as he betrayed her mother as a wife. It also would seem to imply the boy, if truly her father's bastard, was a "half-twin" of sorts to herself. A sibling less than nine months apart in age from herself. Ugh! Impossible! Thought Ashley.

The boy seemed to go to college in the same town as she did. Even if he did not go the same university as she did. What are the odds? Thought Ashley. Though, that was not so surprising given that was one of the largest college towns in the country. With universities like her own. A rich, old, perennial top three that counted more ex-presidents and Nobel laurates among former students and faculty than any other. And good, but not as celebrated universities like the boy's. Excellent if you come from the slums like the boy. But really below the dignity of a smart rich princess like herself.

And though the files did not seem to contain much information about the boy's social life in college. It did contain information about his courses and activities. Particularly soccer, which seemed an important part of the boy's life. Indeed, though there were numerous public domain and private investigator pictures of the boy in the files, the soccer game and practice ones seemed to stand out the most to Ashley. He seemed tall, dark and handsome alright to Ashley, in a romance novel heartthrob kind of way. Even for a boy from the slums, so to speak. A couple of pictures of him handling the ball while about to try a goal shot even made him look a bit like a celebrity striker and endorsement model from Italy, or Spain, or Argentina, or something like that. With his lightly tanned white skin, his slightly long dark hair, his dark eyes. A lot of girls would swoon over that look, thought Ashley. Too bad it seems he was no more than the bastard spawn of some random man, that his mother was trying to hawk as the son of Ashley's father.

And the documents that really took that cake, were those where Ashley's father's attorneys and bankers discussed pros and cons of legitimizing an illegitimate offspring. Seriously?! Thought Ashley. And she decided, if any of this information was remotely true, and her father was remotely considering anything of the sort, she could not just passively stand by and let her father fuck himself up. Fuck his relationship with his own wife, her mother, Sydney, up. And fuck his relationship with Ashley herself, her father's only true child, his baby girl, his daddy's girl, up!

So in a blur of emotions, Ashley decided she needed to get ahead of this impending disaster. This train wreck in the making. And do something about it. The first, and most obvious option was to confront her father. Talk, or beat, some sense into him. But that seemed too impulsive. And other than the information she had stolen from her father, Ashley felt she had no real advantage. And Ashley was a girl that liked to have a strong hand. The upper hand even. The second, and second most obvious option was to inform her mother. Get her to talk, or beat, some sense into her husband. But that option seemed to suffer from the same weakness as the first option. And it had the additional downside of also destroying Ashley's mother emotionally. So it clearly was worse. That left Ashley with only one option.

Since Ashley had all her father's information about the putative bastard boy. And he went to a university in the same college town as she did. She could get personally close to him. Seduce him even. Subjugate him, while she was at it. And destroy him from up close before her father could rescue the pretender out of his miserable existence. Ashley knew like few girls what boys most wanted and needed. And knew how to make them fall for the hope of getting it, while actually giving them nothing and instead taking away from them what little they had. She was sexy, she was rich, and she was an influential queen bee. She had all the resources she needed to honeytrap him. Rob him out of his successes. Psycho-socio-sexually break him to her will. With boys, sex was the ultimate lever. Keep them pre-cuming but never again cuming. Keep them lubricating, but never again ejaculating. And they turn into puppets on strings. Then you can do with them whatever you want. Make them quit their school, their team, their friends. Retrain them into being you waiter, or pool boy. Into being your puppy dog, or footstool even. She could do all that and more to the bastard. Then let's see if her father has any respect or interest in him. After her father sees his bastard stiff as a piece of furniture with his daughter's feet on his face. Or crawling like a dog at the end of her leash. That is, presuming he is her father's son at all. The first uncertainty she would have to resolve for herself beyond reasonable doubt.

So ultimately, Ashley decided she would find out some important college social information her father's team had neglected to collect. What circles the boy, Richard, ran around in. What places and times he ran around with them in. And put herself on his path. Pick him up. Trap him in her black widow's web. And do to him what she had to do to make sure he was in no position to ever threaten her or her family again.

*****

Back at her university from the weekend with her parents, Ashley, tapping into her very large queen bee social network, got to immediately finding out what she needed about the putative bastard boy, Richard, and his habits. Who his friends were, how they spent their time. And had quickly learned some of the stars of the North River University soccer team liked to go to a certain live music college town bar on Fridays nights. The left wing striker named Richard among them, though he did not always go. The rumor seemed to be, he measured how much he spent a month. And also that he sometimes studied on Friday nights, when he needed the extra time not already taken by classes, practice, and a job waiting tables at a local restaurant. So it was a bit of a hit or miss, but most first Fridays of the month he went to the live music bar with his buddies. Particularly when some country rock band was playing, which seemed to be his favorite genre of music. Since this coming Friday was first of the month, and there was a country rock band playing, Ashley thought it was a good bet he would be there. And thus prepared to lay the first stage of her honeytrap for him. First, to obtain irrefutable proof the boy was actually her father's son. But assuming that was case, also to leave such a strong sexual impression, he we would more than willingly jump head first into her spiderweb and damn the consequences. So she assembled a small squadron of wing women, four in all including herself. They all got dolled up like sexy rich girls asking to be picked up for the night. And when it was fashionably late enough, left for their destination...

It was the first Friday of the month and Richard had had a long hard week. Studying hard, practicing hard, and working hard. So when his buddy Mathew asked him.

"Up for a beer and some music?"

He replied.

"Yes I am!"

Without hesitating for a second.

"Good. Don and Mark are in too. Nothing like some booze, some music, and hopefully some hot chicks to let some steam off. And gosh do we need to let steam off after Coach nearly drilled us to death!"

Said Mathew. Richard, like any red blooded American boy, liked the idea of some hot chicks as much as his buddy. But sometimes hot chicks were trouble. Particularly the hottest chicks. And he really still felt at a point in his life were he rather stay away from trouble. Despite that, he was always open to opportunities. And was always hopeful he would some day meet a pretty girl, who would be smart and kind, and not be trouble at all.

In any case, soon Richard was at the live music bar with his buddies Mathew, Don and Mark. Each of them with a bottle of beer in hand. Standing near the live stage, but not right in front of it, where the most enthusiastic members of the audience gathered. The boys who played air guitar. The girls who threw their bras at the band members. And the couples who ground against each other to the rhythm of the music.

Soon Don and Mark, who had the easy confidence of popular athletes, were talking up and semi dancing with two girls, a redhead and a brunette, who were smiling and laughing at their jokes. And Richard was happy for them, and their carefree enjoyment of life. Something he had learned often came innately to those that had always felt security since birth. Richard meanwhile was enjoying the live band. Which played songs with pretty good drum, bass, and acoustic rhythm guitar lines. The kind that really made you want to get up and dance. And overlayed that with melodies and solos that alternated between vocals, electric lead guitar, steel guitar, and fiddle. The kind that were really catchy and made you want to sing along as well. And was thinking about that, when over the loud music Mathew said to him.

"Hey Rick! Seen those four chicks over there? The ones that look like Windsor University princesses. The snooty yet slutty blonde in the middle that looks like the queen bee, I think she is checking you out man! Even as I think every guy in here is checking her out in turn!"

"I have noticed them, Matt. And the pretty blonde in the middle in particular. But I seriously doubt she is checking me out! She is probably one of those girls that knows how to make every guy in the bar feel like she is checking him out."

Said Richard.

"In any case. You know me. I stay away from trouble. And they, and even more she, looks like nothing but trouble. A perfect 10 out of 10 sex appeal. Forget a mere economic 1%, more likely a 0.1% trust fund baby. And all the looks of a queen bee mean girl. She would never be interested in a guy like me. And as you said, every guy is checking her out. So she'll soon be picked up by a more suitable candidate. Somebody closer to her station."

Richard added to his friend. Even as he already had counted four guys who had approached her and been rebuffed by her. Indeed, Richard himself found it increasingly hard to turn his eyes away from her. As she danced in the middle of the dance floor with her squadron of three wing women. Companions which seemed to be being picked off one by one by guys with better luck than the ones that went after the girl squad leader.

That girl, she was truly stunning. Maybe 5'8", 130lbs or so. Almond blonde hair in a sexy pony tail. With amber eyes that seemed to turn almost fantastical yellow when the light hit them just right. She had mathematically perfect, slim but curved, waist and hips and pelvis and legs that she flaunted to perfection every time she swayed and ground to the rhythm of the music. She wore stiletto heeled black leather booties. Ultra-low rise boot cut jeans. And an off shoulder open back grey top, which she further abbreviated when she lifted it coquettishly off her navel and waist, seductively flaunting her exquisite midriff for all the boys at the bar to drool over. Even more than her three friends, she seemed to be broadcasting her seductive appeal, for all to admire. And just on that sex appeal alone, Richard felt she was truly out of his league. Even if he indeed wondered, like his friend Matt had suggested, whether she was checking him out. And even more than that, whether she was actually dancing for his benefit.

So he studied her some more. And every additional second he did, he felt more and more certain there was nothing for him to look for in there. Everything from the fancy make up and accessories she wore. To her sultry yet classy ballerina grace. To her princess pout and glare also told her she was indeed at least a top 0.1% girl. Probably beneficiary of at least a $5 million trust fund. Probably came to the bar this night in a luxury European convertible. No way she would stoop to slumming it with a guy a like him. So why waste his time and risk his heart like that?

"Perhaps, dear Rick. But that is six guys she has turned away and I even think she is dancing for you. Her body is always positioned perfectly for your eyes. Come on! Live a little, risk a little! I wish I were you right now!"

Added Matthew to his friend Richard.

But that girl! Her poise and confidence. The way she seemed to command her friends, and the boys around her. Power, status and influence came naturally to her. And that was above and beyond the privilege of being pretty and rich. She must be the kind of girl that invites hundreds to her weekend parties. Has thousands of social media followers. The kind of girl that sits at the center of a vast social web. A true Queen Bee. Richard had a few good friends, but he was the very opposite of that. So he just kept finding reasons why she was out of his league. And why his eyes and mind must be playing tricks on him that she was staring at him. And dancing for him.

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