Suddenly wide awake, headache forgotten, Rob’s mind started racing. The Twitter! What had he written? He’d remembered being frustrated—the pictures of his sister, covered in tattoos, completely naked, pierced almost everywhere one could be pierced…it had not only failed to cause shock and outrage, but everyone seemed to admire her.
There had been the expected lewd replies, but nothing else. No expressions of disgust, no judgemental messages, nothing.
And so Rob had decided to destroy his sister’s reputation as much as he could.
October 18th: i am a dirty slut who only exists for men to cum in LOL 😉
October 18th: dirty mind, dirty cunt, dirty ass, dirty mouth…that’s me! i guess im just dirty
October 18th: god i love being used and abused. if i could b raped for a living i would!
That had gotten a few replies, but the one that had really set Rob off had been from a girl he’d always remembered as being sweet and kind—her only fault was being a little bit too religious. She’d simply said
@AmberPeach92: haha, isn’t that the dream?
He’d taken a huge swig of the port that he was drinking, and really let loose.
October 18th: can’t wait to go home—daddy’s a ex-pornstar, and he says he’s going to teach me how to fuck like a pro
October 18th: mom was a stripper for so long she sometimes forgets to keep her clothes on LOL—guess thats where i get it from!
October 18th: god i hope daddy fucks me in the ass. its been so long…
October 18th: the hardest quesiotna ne1s ever assed me is whos da betta fuck—mom or dad
October 18th: on one hand dad is ENORMUS but mom’s got such a long tung
October 18th: n boy does she know how to use it
October 18th: i guess ull get 2 see! dad has organised a film shoot to celebrate my return
October 18th: ,aybe ill finally have a film that outsells 1 of daddys…
October 18th: itll b a reel famil
He’d stopped typing halfway through that Tweet, but the damage was done. What was worse, he’d fallen asleep with Master Hacker still open…if Amber had come in, she would have seen exactly who’d been spreading rumours about her.
Rob gulped. The fact that he was still alive was the only evidence he had that suggested he hadn’t yet been found out—he decided that he should go downstairs and face the music.
* * *
The plane-ride home had been good. As Amber had sat back in her seat and relaxed, she’d really had time to do some self-reflection. When she was at college, it was just sex, sex, sex…there was never any time to think.
Not, of course, that she was complaining. In fact, she thought, sex was really when she felt happiest. It was fun, she was good at it…and best of all, she got to get men off.
Amber loved getting men off.
She hadn’t really thought about it like that before—she’d been pursuing sex out of an inner drive, a desire to get fucked, but that wasn’t what it was all about. It was about getting men off.
And who was best at getting men off? Not good girls, that was for sure. Sluts. Sluts were good at getting men off, and since Amber was the best at it, that made her a slut. Nothing but a filthy slut. Her new breasts, her long legs, her toned body…it all existed for getting men hard, and then her mouth, her ass, her cunt…they existed for getting men off. She existed for getting men off.
Since that was why she existed, they were really all the body parts that mattered. Her mouth, ass and cunt. The rest of her existed to support them, and (as an added bonus) to turn men on.
Amber was suddenly aware of the other men on the plane. How rude of her! She’d been in their presence for almost 10 minutes now, and she hadn’t offered to get any—or all—of them off.
Well, she could certainly make up for lost time…
* * *
Rob nervously walked downstairs, and was shocked by what he saw.
Lights. Cameras. A director. Boom mikes, a few crew-members bustling around…one of them was holding a clapperboard.
Had his parents decided to let someone film a movie in their house?
Just as his brain was processing the sights before him, Rob saw what all the cameras were pointing at. His father, completely naked, having sex with some tattooed teenager, naked except for her heels, while his mother stood to the side in a short skirt, forcing a large toy into her cunt.
What had happened to his parents??
Rob’s hangover completely cleared as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. As his father pulled the girl’s hair, her face came into view, and he realized that it was…it was…
It was Amber.
She was covered in tattoos—the tattoos that he’d designed and digitally added to her body—and her breasts were enormous. Rob just stood there, open-mouthed, and stared as his father plunged his enormous cock into Amber one more time, and bellowed as he came. She smiled like a cat with milk, and flipped Rob off as her own orgasm approached.
Rob staggered back upstairs, unable to cope with what he’d just seen. Even one storey up, he could still hear the sounds of his family copulating for the cameras, and he sat on his bed and tried to process what he’d just seen.
Amber had…she was…his parents…
Everything he’d written on his Twitter had come true.
The thought took a few minutes to form, several more to gestate, and almost an hour to finally sink in.
When it did, he gave it another ten minutes, just in case he’d missed something. He went downstairs and peeked at the new scene that they were filming—his father was roughly fucking Amber’s face, while his mother pounded her ass with a strap-on—and went back upstairs.
Everything he’d written on this Twitter had come true.
He spent a few minutes reading over his tweets of the last few months—the images he’d uploaded, the off-hand comments that he’d made, the drunken posts of the previous night. Once he’d read all of his posts, he sat on his bed for a while longer, thinking.
Finally, he stood up, opened Master Hacker, and typed one final tweet.
October 19th: dont think ill be going back to college next year! need brother’s huge cock too much…can’t imagine going a day without it inside me!
As he hit “submit”, Rob smiled. He listened as there was a brief argument downstairs, followed by the sounds of his sister’s six-inch heels on the staircase. His door opened slowly.
“Rob?”
“Come on in, sis.”
—
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