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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: (Badseed.txt (inc, rp)
Authors name: Laura G.
Story Title : The Bad Seed - A True Story
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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1997.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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I should've realized what was going to happen,
but I refused to see it. I couldn't believe that such
evil existed, and by denying it, I ruined the rest of my
life. I can never forget what happened to me, no matter
how much I might wish to.
It started back when we were teenagers -- my
brother Billy and I. Billy and I were two of six kids,
raised in your average family. He was four years older
than I was, and for the most part ignored me -- except
when I turned thirteen. I was the only girl in the
family, and I've since read that it's normal to see some
sexual activity between siblings -- playing doctor and
so forth -- and that's pretty much what happened then.
He'd trap me in my room and try to pull up my shirt so
he could see my newly growing breasts, that sort of
thing. My other brothers did it too, but not nearly as
much. It went on for a while, until I finally complained
to my mother -- and she made them stop. I didn't think
about it often, but every once in a while, in the years
that followed, I'd catch Billy looking at me with an odd
gleam in his eye -- that made me nervous. But once he
went away to college, I more or less forgot about it.
Well, when I was 16 Billy got married to Shanda,
a really nice girl. They were both barely graduated from
college, and it looked like they had a nice life ahead
of them. Shanda came from a very wealthy family, and
Billy started working in her father's stockbroking firm,
and quickly was promoted. Within four years they had a
house, two nice cars, plenty of money -- everything they
could want. Except a child. I'll never forget the day
that Billy came over to the house and told us the doc-
tors said Shanda could never have children. He was
really busted up by that.
I felt really bad for him. He and I had never
been close, but over time I'd stopped being mad at him
for "fooling around" with me when I was younger. I'd
gotten a psyche degree, and I knew that it wasn't that
abnormal. Plus, he'd stopped being a bossy older bro-
ther, and had been really nice to me when I was in
college -- a couple times he sent me money just because
-- said he knew I was a starving college student. And
now, with the pain of Shanda's infertility shadowing his
life, I thought I could help him. I was working in a
bookstore that summer, waiting to get into grad school,
since a plain psyche degree was useless.
I began to spend a lot of time with Billy and
Shanda, trying to help them out. I had a lot of free
time on my hands, since my boyfriend Jeff was on active
duty in the Gulf. We'd been seeing each other for al-
most two years, and I was sure he was Mr. right. He was
as religious as I was, and we both didn't believe in sex
before marriage. I knew I was lucky to have someone
like that, and I couldn't wait for him to come home at
Christmas. He'd been hinting around that we'd maybe get
married then, and I couldn't wait.
And then... one hot July night I stopped over at
Billy's house to take him some dinner. Shanda had gone
to Florida for the week to see her parents, and Mom
wanted to be sure Billy ate right, since he'd probably
subsist off of chips if no one was there to cook for
him. I walked in the house -- I had a key -- and there
was Billy, lying on the couch wearing a tee shirt and
boxers. I put down the casserole Mom had sent, and
walked over to him -- he looked like he was asleep. The
air conditioning made the room arctic, so I decided to
cover him up. Just as I was reaching for the afghan --
his hand shot up and grabbed my arm.
He pulled me down on top of him, and before I
knew it, we were on the floor, with him on top of me,
groping at me, pulling my sun-dress up. "Billy -- what
are you doing," I shouted! "Stop it!" In response, he
slapped me across the face, hard. It stunned me long
enough for him to rip off my panties. "I'm gonna fuck
you Laura" he said, his voice thick and urgent. I stared
up in his face with shock -- he looked like a stranger.
His face was flushed, his eyes glassy, and despite the
chilly air in the room, his face was beaded with sweat.
"No, no! I'm your sister -- you can't do this,"
I cried! He just laughed, and fell on top of me, kissing
my face, biting and sucking on my neck. My futile
struggles just inflamed his lust more. "I've got to
fuck you Laura," he gasped, as he pulled down his
shorts. His manhood sprang out at me, huge, swollen,
and hard. "I've wanted to fuck you for years -- and I
know you want it too!" With that, he fell on top of me,
and pried my legs open. I screamed, and tried to push
him away, but it was no use -- he was much too strong
for me. Before I knew it he was between my legs, and
with one thrust, tore deep inside of me.
I screamed with pain, and he moaned with plea-
sure as he realized he had taken my virginity. He began
to thrust up and down inside me, over and over again,
moaning with pleasure as he raped me. "Oh Laura... man,
you're so tight... oh god" he called out as he pumped
away furiously at me. I could only lay there and sob
as he raped me, feeling awash with shame as his powerful
thrusts pushed us across the floor. I looked up at him
once, and his face was smeary with bliss as he raped his
only sister. "mmmm, good..." he moaned as he licked and
sucked at my face.
It seemed to go on forever. I closed my eyes,
but I could feel his body shudder, I could still hear
his grunts of pleasure, and winced when he called my
name out in ecstasy. "Oh Laura -- you feel so good!
Oh yeah... oh yeah... oh baby" he called. Finally, his
movements grew more frantic, and with a final shuddering
thrust, he came inside me, and collapsed on top of me.
He laid there for what seemed like hours, trapping me
beneath him. When he finally let me up, I ran straight
out the door, went home, locked myself in the bathroom,
and sobbed in the shower for hours.
I didn't report it. How could I? How could I
tell the world that my own brother had raped me? It
would destroy my family -- my dad had a bad heart and
telling him that his daughter had been raped by her own
brother could kill him! No -- I didn't tell. I kept
silent, avoided Billy at all costs. The few times I was
forced to be around him, he acted like nothing was
amiss, and I did too. It seemed best that way, to for-
get, pretend it never happened. I couldn't cope with
it any other way.
And then -- three months later, as I sat on the
examining table at my family doctors, and heard him say
"Laura, you're pregnant," I realized the nightmare would
never be over. I was pregnant with Billy's child, my
own brother had made me pregnant. There was no forget-
ting it now. Abortion was against my religion -- I
would have to give birth to my brother's child, and my
life was over.
I told my parents first. Of course they wanted
to know who the father was - since it couldn't have been
Jeff. I made up a lame story about getting drunk at a
party -- and that I didn't know who my baby's father
was. They were devastated. We're a conventional
Catholic family, and even in this day and age, an unmar-
ried, pregnant daughter was something to be ashamed of.
I never even got the chance to tell Jeff. Somehow, his
sister heard about my pregnancy and told him before I
could. He sent me a letter, calling me a whore and a
slut, and broke up with me.
I will never forget the look on Billy's face
when I told him that I was pregnant with his child. He
was delighted. "What's wrong with you!" I cried. "I'm
your sister! You raped me and now I'm pregnant with
your baby! Aren't you ashamed!" He shrugged, and said
"Why do you think I raped you? I wanted to make you
pregnant. Shanda can't ever give me children, and if
I divorced her, I'd lose everything. She wanted to
adopt, but I want a child of my own blood. So, I raped
you, got you pregnant, and once my child is born, Shanda
and I will adopt it. This way, I know it's mine".
I could only stare at him, aghast. It had all
been planned! And now, I was pregnant by Billy, and had
no choice but to give birth to his baby. I laughed in
his face and told him that unless he wanted to identify
himself as the father of my baby, there was nothing he
could do to keep me from giving it to strangers. That
took the smug look off his face -- he apparently hadn't
thought of that.
The months passed with agonizing slowness. As
my belly swelled bigger and bigger with my brother's
child, I grew more and more depressed. I spent all of
my time alone with my shame, at home. My family was
ashamed of me and my pregnancy. All of my friends had
deserted me, and I knew the whole town was talking about
me. I guess that's why I got attached to the baby. There
was no one else to talk to, and it wasn't the baby's
fault that I had been raped by my brother. I'd lay awake
at night and caress my bulging belly, wanting so much to
keep my baby, but knowing I couldn't. I was so young,
only 20, and I had no way to support myself, let alone
a baby. My parents had made it clear that my only
choice was adoption -- they wouldn't support me and my
baby. And I couldn't stand the thought of handing my
child over to strangers, never to see it again.
And so... when I was eight months pregnant, I
asked Mom to have Billy and Shanda over to the house.
I hadn't seen much of either of them, and the few times
I had seen Billy I ignored him. The whole family
gathered around the table, and I sobbed as I said I
wanted Billy and Shanda to adopt my baby. It was the
only way. As much as I hated Billy for raping me and
forcing me to have his baby, he was still the child's
father. This way, our baby would be with one of his
parents. And I could see him grow up. Shanda started
crying and thanking me over and over again. If she only
knew what a monster she had married!
Nine months after Billy raped me I gave birth to
our son. Both Billy and Shanda were there with me, and
the nurse gave our son to Billy first. I never hated
him more than at that minute, watching him hold our
baby. He had gotten what he wanted, a child of his own,
but at my expense. I barely saw my son at all after the
birth -- Shanda had him almost every moment. And once I
signed the adoption papers, I left town, courtesy of
Shanda's family, who paid for two years at the Sorbonne
for me. It was better that way, everyone said. The
baby - who of course was named after Billy - would be
able to bond with his new parents this way, and it would
be easier on me.
It wasn't, it was so hard. In the two years
that I was gone, I only saw one picture of my son, taken
when he was just a week old. No one mentioned him in
the letters and phone calls. I didn't see my son till
he was two years old. It took my breath away when I did
see him -- he looked exactly like his father. Which of
course, everyone chalks up to his being the boy's uncle.
Well, eventually I moved away, and married a good man.
Ted doesn't know about my son, it's the family secret.
Little Billy doesn't know that he was adopted, and they
plan on never telling him that his aunt is actually his
mother. Ted and I see the family once a year, and it's
hard. I found out just this last week that I can't have
any more children myself. Ted says it doesn't matter,
but I am left knowing that I can never claim my son.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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