Three Tales from the Incest Inn

Prologue

Rhys sat across the desk from his potential employer, tapping his pointer, middle, and ring finger on the arm of the chair, pondering what the man had just told him a moment before.

"I can see that you don't believe me," Mr. Wake said. The ginger-haired lumberjack looking man sat back in his chair, his slick suit stretching across his chest, fabric pulling tight, his red beard bright against his white shirt. "Would you like me to explain more?"

"You say that your hotel is impossible," Rhys responded. "Yes, it's safe to say that I don't believe you."

"Did you ever see Fantasy Island?" Mr. Wake asked. "The TV show, not the movie. Although I suppose the movie shares the same concept, it just wasn't very good."

"A place where someone's deepest desires are made manifest," Rhys said.

"Exactly," Mr. Wake said. "It's just that our inn has a very niche specialty. And without the ironic twist at the end."

"You make families fuck each other," Rhys said.

"Not at all. The magic in our inn simply amplifies desire, we can't make anyone do anything that they don't already want to do, even if their desire is latent or subconscious."

"So your niche is members of the same family who want to fuck each other but can't because society says it's wrong," Rhys said.

Mr. Wake's hands opened, his arms bending outward as if opening a book. "It seems you understand," Wake said with a smile.

"I understand," Rhys said. "I don't believe it, but I do understand."

"Would you like to see it for yourself?"

"The incest?" Rhys asked.

"The magic," Mr. Wake said.

"I don't believe in magic," Rhys said.

Mr. Wake frowned. "I understand from your file that your upbringing was... difficult, to say the least."

"My family was lost in an inter-dimensional rift when I was two years old," Rhys said. "I was too young to remember them. I don't remember my mother's face or my sister's voice. They were sucked out of existence and out of my life. I've lived my entire life keeping my eyes and ears open for them, searching for them in television static and radio waves. I never saw or heard a single thing. I don't believe in magic."

"Because if magic were real, your family would come back to you?" Mr. Wake asked.

"Something like that," Rhys said.

Mr. Wake nodded. "The multiverse has a way of balancing out ledgers, often in ways that we don't expect or understand. If something is lost, something must be found."

Wake opened a black folder on the desk in front of him. Rhys had seen it when he'd entered the room, taking it in along with the green carpet and faded wallpaper, the bookcases which smelled of old books and aging wood, the old fashioned chandelier hanging a little too low above the solid wooden desk, everything just a little bit too lived in and disjointed, like a David Lynch set.

Turning the folder around, Wake tapped the paper on top, a contract for temporary employment of a caretaker for the inn.

"One week," Wake said. "That's all I'm asking for. You watch the inn for one week while I'm on sabbatical, and I'll show you that magic is real."

Rhys brushed a strand of black hair out of his face. His hair had been getting a little long since he'd left his last job, but he hadn't felt particularly compelled to get it cut. He hadn't felt particularly compelled to do anything for awhile now. That was part of the reason his friend had recommended him the job.

"Maybe the air on the coast will do you good," Rhys' friend had said.

Not wanting to disappoint a friend, Rhys took the trip up to the small New England town to meet with Mr. Wake. The hotel...

"The inn," Mr. Wake said.

"Excuse me?" Rhys asked.

"You keep saying hotel," Mr. Wake explained. "Inns are smaller than hotels, more intimate, more personal. This is an inn. It is not a hotel."

Neat trick, Rhys thought.

"What would I have to do?" Rhys asked.

"There will be six guests this upcoming week. A brother and sister on a road trip up the west coast will find the inn off the highway and decide to stay for the night. A mother and son will come to visit the hot springs in Arkansas. And finally a mother and a daughter will arrive seeking someone from far away. You will need to check them in, give them the key to their room, monitor the phone in your room in case they need anything, then check them out when they leave."

"Sounds simple enough. Couldn't you just pull any old person off the street to do your job?"

"I want you for a very specific reason, Rhys," Mr. Wake said. "I believe you'll do splendidly in the role."

Rhys sighed, skeptical.

"A brother and sister on a road trip up the west coast will find an inn off the highway in Maine," Rhys said. "A mother and son will come for a hot spring in Arkansas that as far as I can tell doesn't exist, and again end up in Maine. And a mother and daughter will come seeking someone from far away. Am I supposed to help them find that person?"

"Only if they ask you to."

Rhys stared.

"One week," Mr. Wake said. "What have you got to lose?"

"I just feel like I'm making a deal with a devil," Rhys said.

"Nothing so serious," Mr. Wake assured him. "I'm not asking for your soul. Just your time."

Rhys finally took a deep breath and relented. "Yeah," he said. "Luckily for you, time is one thing I have an abundance of. One week. Then I'm out."

Mr. Wake placed a pen in front of Rhys, who picked it up and signed at the bottom of the contract.

"A pleasure," Mr. Wake said. "Let me show you around."

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Incest Inn

Mark and Sarah were closer than other siblings. They always had been. When Mark went off to college, they had tried moving away from each other, establishing a distance and boundaries, but it didn't really take. Sarah ended up going to the same college, and they started hanging out in the same circles, cultivating the same groups of friends. After they both graduated, they moved in together. Their friends all joked that they were more like a married couple than siblings.

After about six months of living together, they'd settled into those roles more than their friends knew. One morning Sarah asked if she could jump in the shower with Mark as she had fallen asleep the night before and missed her shower. They both pretended they weren't leering at each other's bodies as they awkwardly shifted around the shower, each of them thinking about the other.

"What are you reading?" Sarah asked Mark that night, unbuttoning her top and letting it hang open.

"Slapstick, by Kurt Vonnegut," Mark said.

"What's it about?" Sarah asked.

"Incest," Mark said with a playful smile. "It's about a brother and sister who can't keep their hands off each other, but when they're together they make a plan to save the world from loneliness."

Sarah licked her lips.

"Hey um... would you have any interest in watching Crimson Peak with me?" she asked.

"What's it about?" Mark asked.

"Incest," Sarah responded with a smile that matched her brother's.

They cuddled up on the couch and watched the movie, and Sarah pretended not to notice the pressure of Mark's hard-on against her thigh.

"Would you be interested in watching Game of Thrones next?" Mark asked.

"I've heard good things about The Borgias," Sarah added with a nod.

It became their pastime, seeking out media with incest in it to watch together on the couch. Sarah began to wear less and less, trading in her pajama pants for shorts, her sleep shirts for tank-tops. Mark tried not to stare down her cleavage as she lay down against his bare chest for the night. More than once they woke up with Mark's hand squeezing his little sister's breast, or slid down the front of her shorts.

"Someone got a bit handsy last night," Sarah would tease as she readjusted her clothes in the morning, pretending not to notice her half-asleep brother staring at her ass, the large tent propped up in his boxers.

One night over dinner, Sarah noticed that her brother was a little more quiet than usual.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mark said, snapping himself out of it. "Hey, I was thinking... I haven't been out of state this year, I'm starting to feel a bit stagnant. I was wondering if you'd like to take a road trip up the coast. We could make a week of it, go up to LA, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Vancouver."

"Together?" Sarah asked, suddenly feeling a nervous warmth on her cheeks.

"Together," Mark said.

Sarah smiled. "I'd love to."

The siblings took turns driving, blaring The White Stripes, Poe, and The Lost Boys. They stopped at every tourist trap that caught their eyes, took pictures at the Bigfoot Museum, the World Famous Treehouse in the California Redwoods, the Portland Art Museum. The blue skies and yellow sand of SoCal became the forests of NorCal, became the mountains and volcanic peaks of Oregon.

"Would you like us to take your picture?" an older woman asked as they stood on the shores of the Columbia River, overlooking the border between Oregon and Washington.

Mark handed the older woman his phone, Sarah pressed herself into his chest, and they smiled.

"Ain't young love a sight to see?" the woman's husband asked.

"You're such a cute young couple," the woman said, handing Mark's phone back to him.

The sun got low, and they decided to call it for the night. Sarah looked up hotels on her phone, and the GPS led them off the highway, into thickets of trees, up and down a winding road and into a small valley to find a cute little inn overlooking a lake.

"I love it," Sarah said, as Mark pulled into the small parking lot, finding the white lines of the parking spots and pulling in.

"There's only one other car here," Mark said. "Are they open?"

"Let's go ask," Sarah said.

Mark carried the bags and Sarah opened the door, guiding him inside. The man behind the counter smiled and nodded at them professionally, though Mark felt a small sense of confusion he didn't quite understand.

"Are there any rooms available?" Sarah asked.

"Of course," the man said. "Will the honeymoon suite be alright?"

Sarah looked hopefully to Mark and Mark nodded. "Yeah, of course."

The man at the counter took their information, wrote out a receipt and passed it along with a key to Mark and Sarah.

"I'll be by the phone if you need anything," the man said.

"What's your name?" Sarah asked.

"Rhys," the man said.

"Reese?" Mark asked.

Rhys spelled it out with his fingers.

"The owner of the inn takes his patrons' absolute enjoyment as his number one priority," Rhys said. "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to call."

Mark and Sarah climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to their suite. Upon entering, Sarah was transfixed by the view of the lake, crossing the entire room faster than Mark could even keep track of her, climbing up on the back of the room's love-seat and peering out the window, her ass in the air.

The sun was almost down, and there was a light on the water like a candle in the dark of the night, but the moon was also full and bright and shone down on the water with a silver light. Sarah didn't know how to describe it, other than as magical.

"Uh... Sarah," Mark said behind her.

Sarah turned around.

She had been so transfixed by the sight of the lake that she hadn't even looked at their suite. On first look, it contained everything a honeymoon suite should, a couch and television, some dressers and drawers, a big bed at one end of the room, a couples bathroom with sliding glass door and rain shower-head, a few tasteful nudes on the wall, a small breakfast table.

Then Sarah noticed the sign on the table.

"Welcome to the Incest Inn," the sign read.

"Is... this a joke?" Sarah asked.

"I don't think so," Mark said. "I think the guy at the counter... I think he thinks we're... you know..."

"Fucking?" Sarah asked.

Mark nodded.

Sarah stared for a moment. Then she giggled.

"Everyone thinks we're a couple," she said.

She took her bag from Mark and started to change into something more comfortable, pulling her t-shirt up and off, undoing her bra, and sliding into a tank-top. She slipped her jeans down and off, in just her panties and her tank, before turning back to her brother.

"Sarah," Mark said.

"Did you know what this place was?" Sarah asked.

"No," Mark said. "Not until I saw the sign."

Sarah looked disappointed. "I was kind of thinking you might have planned this."

"I didn't plan this," Mark said. "I do... I brought you up here to talk."

Sarah stepped closer to her brother, put her hand on the back of his, looked into his eyes.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.

"Everyone thinks we're a couple," Mark said. "Would you like to be?"

"A couple?" Sarah asked.

Mark nodded. His eyes were intense with anticipation.

Sarah squeezed her brother's fingers.

"I... A part of me really wants to," she said. "But I know that we can't. Nobody would understand."

Mark reached down and took his sister's hip in his hand, pulling her body to his, and she felt his heard cock pressed against her.

"What if we could?" Mark said. "What if this place is a sign that you and I are supposed to be together?"

Sarah pulled Mark to her, wanting to be closer to him. "We'd have to run away," Sarah said. "Leave all our friends behind... leave mom and dad behind... it would be you and me against the world."

"Sarah," Mark said. "I hope you don't think this is just a line. I'd do absolutely anything to be with you."

Sarah put her hands on her brother's cheeks and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him for the first time.

"Tell me," she said. "Ask me the question."

"Sarah," Mark said. "Will you be my girlfriend."

"A thousand times yes," Sarah said, sealing her words with a kiss, pressing her body to his.

He kissed her back, learning the curve of her lips, feeling her tongue on his as his hand explored her body. He felt her hands on his pants, sliding them down around his ankles, before pressing through the cloth of his boxers. His cock throbbed against her hand.

"To the bed," he said, and she smiled, pulling him toward the bed with her.

They stumbled together, rolling onto the bed, their hands tugging at cloth, sliding, slipping, until their bare chests pressed against each other. Mark's hand found his sister's breast, fingers closing around her nipple as he squeezed. She moaned into his neck, and he sighed in bliss.

She tugged at his boxers until his cock was free, then ran her fingers up and down his shaft. His free hand slid her panties down, and she reached down to slide them off, until they were naked together.

"You're so fucking hot," Mark said.

Sarah rolled her brother on top of her, looking up at him.

"Fuck me, big brother," she said.

Mark spread his sister's legs and pressed the head of his cock up against her labia, feeling her wetness as he pushed inside. Her body shook as she felt him fill her, his cock finding each spot inside of her to make her moan. Her vision went white and her face felt tingly as she pulled her brother into place, kissing him deeply, tasting his tongue as she rolled her hips up against his.

"I've wanted this for so long," Mark said.

"Me too," she said.

They found a rhythm, him pressing down into her, her bucking up against him, faster and faster, deeper and deeper.

"Mmm!" Sarah gasped.

Mark slowed down, looking down at her.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Sarah's face was bright red. "You made me cum," she said.

"Already?"

She nodded, her breath deep and her eyes blank.

"You're the first person to ever do that to me," she said. "I think you might be the only person who can do that to me."

Mark kissed her.

"Roll over, sis," he said. "Let me see that cute ass of yours."

Sarah rolled over and lifted her ass in the air, shaking it for him. Mark gripped her hips, pulling her back onto him. She moaned in pleasure as he filled her up again, reaching back toward him. He took her arm and held it as he started to thrust, harder and harder into her, his balls against her clit, his cock hitting her spots, the sounds of their bodies echoing off the walls of their suite.

He leaned down, wrapped his arm around her chest, fucking her desperately, his cock swelling inside of her.

"At the same time," he said, and she nodded.

"Three," he said.

"Two," she said.

"One," he said.

His cum exploded inside of her, warm, thick, wet. She gasped out, pressing her face into the bed as her juices gushed around her brother.

"Fuck," he whispered, his body going limp.

"Mmm," his sister moaned, finding his arm, pulling it to her chest as his body weighed down on her.

They held each other for awhile, until their breathing steadied and their strength returned.

"I want to be with you," Sarah said after awhile. "I want to be your girlfriend. I know it will be hard, but I want it."

"I want it, too," Mark said. "We'll make it work."

Sarah rolled over under Mark and kissed his lips.

"We'll make it work," she agreed.

Mark's cock immediately hardened again, pressing against his sister's pussy lips, still slick with their juices.

"Think you can go one more round?" Sarah asked.

"I think I can go a few," Mark said.

He lifted up, taking his little sister's legs over his shoulder as he pushed his cock back inside of her, gripping her thighs as he began to roll his hips. Her hands reached up, touching his chest.

"Touch yourself for me," Mark ordered, and Sarah complied, one of her hands moving to her breast, squeezing her nipple as the other rolled over her clit.

Mark soon saw her face flush, heard the gasp, and knew that she was cumming for him again. He looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you so much," he said.

She opened her mouth, her eyes closed, but words didn't form, lost in the ecstasy of their illicit lovemaking.

Mark closed his eyes too, feeling his sister's body, her sweat against his, her juices against his, her moans and gasps and the smell of their sex filling the room. He let his head fall back as his cock swelled again, holding back for as long as he could.

"I love you," Sarah said.

His cum exploded inside of her like a geyser, and she gushed around him, both of them gasping in pleasure before collapsing to the bed.

A long time passed before either of them moved, and then Sarah broke the stillness. She slid out of the bed and hit the light-switch on the wall, and the room went dark. A moment later, Mark felt her crawl on top of him, nuzzle her cheek into his chest, and relax against him.

"Hey sis," Mark said.

Her head raised toward him.

"You mean everything to me."

He felt her cheeks tighten with a smile as she sank into him.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," Sarah said.

"Want to watch Star Wars and fall asleep together?" Mark asked.

"That sounds perfect."

Chapter 2: Mother-Son Hot-Spring Hot-Spot

Paul was confused and startled when his mom asked if he would be interested in going to the Jocasta Hot-Springs with her. Luckily she asked him over the phone, as he might not have been able to keep it cool in person.

"Come on, Paul," Barbara said. "It'll be fun. There's like no-body at the springs this time of year so we'll have the whole place to ourselves. We can just relax, spend time together, and decompress from work."

"How'd you even hear about the Jocasta Hot-Springs?" Paul asked.

He knew about them from his internet searches. The legends went that a mother and son had left the colonies behind and were looking for a place where they wouldn't be judged for their taboo relationship. They found the springs and claimed the land for themselves. Soon after, they found that the springs had almost mystical fertility properties, as they began to bear children, until their small family was big enough to build their household into a proper resort. Mothers and sons still visited the resort to this day to get away from the prying eyes of the cities and towns, and to bless their conception.