Unexpected Changes – The Beginning

Literotic asexstories – Unexpected Changes – The Beginning by ImpregTA,ImpregTA 2/15/24 – Blog Entry 1 – “Disappointment”:

Disappointment from your parents is insidious, whether real or perceived, it can really hurt you as you develop, and can drive you to extreme behavior. Extreme can be productive, or extreme can be counterproductive to our ideas of what makes someone “good”. My brother, for example, I believe is fairly disappointing to my parents, and has chosen a path which is very insular and unadventurous. He doesn’t try to make something of himself, he just does the expected. He’s pursuing a degree in computer science in-state instead of business at a prestigious university, he spends his nights gaming as opposed to finding friends or internships, and he doesn’t really have the same physique as my ‘athlete Dad’ or ‘yoga instructor Mom’. It’s really sad to see him taking this path when I’m doing the exact opposite, rising to the challenge presented by our family, and looking to graduate high school and pursue Journalism in the Ivy League.

There’s a difference in our approaches, and there will undoubtedly be differences in our outcomes. I suppose only time will tell.

Period. Enter. Posted! Ashlee sat back in her desk chair with a sigh of satisfaction as she reread what she’d written. I think it’s fair. She mused, but despite her attempts to reassure herself, she hoped that her brother Adam would never find her blog. Maybe “Disappointment” was a little strong of a title… She dismissed the intrusive thought. If he didn’t want to be considered a disappointment, he should’ve done something worthwhile with his life like me.

She glanced around her room, it was well-organized, proper. The desk in front of her was plain, white-painted wood with her laptop on it, a few school documents open in other windows, and a handful of papers neatly stacked in the corner. College applications to secure my future… She riffled the paper lightly, it was a comforting sound in the silence of her alone time. Her mother, Gemma, hadn’t gotten home yet, and her father, Pete, was likely out until the early evening. Ashlee briefly stood, then flopped directly onto the carefully tucked, periwinkle bedspread. Homework? Done. Applications? Done. Workout? Done. Blog post? Done. She found herself bereft of responsibilities, of the structure that she usually relied upon, so instead she just lay there, enjoying the cool darkness of the fabric on her face, blocking out the light of the room, the very picture of a bored teenager. She considered grabbing her phone, putting on some music to help her focus, but it felt wrong, she had nothing upon which to focus.

She’d started the blog for just this scenario, another feather in her cap of extra-curricular activities and awards, a base of writing which would catapult her to the editor of the Harvard Review, or perhaps the Princeton Review, or the Yale Review, whichever one she chose to attend once her applications were in. There’s gonna be a Review, and I’m damn sure I’ll be editing it. She thought about her writing, the personal nature of it, and despite herself felt a twinge of doubt. Is it too much? Too open? She considered, and stood back up, her head throbbing due to the sudden change of orientation. She took a half step back towards her desk, then stopped again, and shook her head. Raw, real, that’s what admissions committees want. She could always take it down later, after she’d gotten some comments.

Ashlee nodded to herself, her moment of consideration banished to the aether. She began to strip her clothes off, sports bra and tight workout shorts hitting the floor, then the hamper, followed by her panties. I can’t second-guess myself if I want to become President. She thought, meandering to her connected bathroom, and slapping the water on hot. Maybe that can be my next post: “How to stick to your guns”. She stepped under the torrent and began to clean her tight, athletic body, her auburn hair dropping over her sharp blue eyes as she did so. Surely, my resolve will serve me well.

3/8/24 – Blog Entry 17 – “The Importance of Being Earnest”:

When you’re a writer, you have to be aware of what your audience wants to read. It doesn’t do anyone any good to write something people don’t want to read, or to read something someone didn’t want to write. Audience is essential for your content, and making content is essential for your audience.

Ashlee stared at the measly half paragraph in front of her, and felt the gnawing contradiction within it. That’s not right, is it? You need to write controversial things, not just what the people want… She thought back to her day at school, she’d sat alone, her friends hadn’t seen fit to hang out with her since she gave them poor peer review scores on a handful of English papers. Controversy had left her a little lonely, but undoubtedly top of the class. If they took my advice, they would have done better. She tsk’d to herself, spinning in her desk chair aimlessly. They could take a page out of her book, writing things that people didn’t want to read, but needed to read. A couple of her friends had started blogs around the same time as her, and they were absolute garbage, all just basic fashion and makeup tips, all shlock for the masses to devour. They are getting more hits… She banished the thought. The things she was writing were important, and her audience would materialize as soon as she-

Her spinning was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. She sighed, it was Adam, back from college for spring break, she’d forgotten he was coming home today. She rose from her chair. She was wearing a basic cami top with tight-fitting yoga pants she’d stolen from her mother, a normal outfit for her, but probably more ass than her brother had seen at the local state school. She trotted down the stairs, rounding the railing at the bottom and fumbling with the lock. Adam was constantly forgetting his keys, and today was probably no exception. He would be doomed to an eternity of the outside world if I wasn’t home already. She succeeded in undoing the locks, and popped the door open a crack, spying Adam in the mid-March chill.

“What’s the password, dweeb?” She grinned at her older brother’s surprise, and his exasperation at her obstinance.

“The password is: ‘let me the hell in before I freeze to death out here.'” He grumbled in response, putting his knee into the door and pushing it open against her brief resistance, the grey dullness of the season washing the entryway in its overcast light. She wasn’t surprised that he was cold, as he wore the classic computer nerd uniform: a graphic tee-shirt of some lame description, cargo shorts, poorly-sized glasses framing muddy blue eyes, and out of season sandals. In March? She eyed him up and down as he dragged a suitcase and book bag into the foyer, obviously loaded down with tech and laundry he had neglected to do for the past month or so.

“Yeah yeah, Twerp, it’s my fault for wearing sandals, I hear it.” He groused, heaving his luggage through the entryway, shedding his backpack and handily shouldering her aside as he did so.

“Good, I don’t have to say it then,” she quipped, nudging the dropped bag with her foot as he closed the door behind him. “You didn’t have to bring the whole rock collection home with you this time, you’re going back in like a week!” She could barely move the backpack with the weight of whatever he’d packed. Adam was a thin guy, the nerdy type who didn’t see the use of going to the gym, focusing more on his computer than his body, barely still stronger than her despite her athleticism. He sighed melodramatically.

“It’s my sex toys from college: I’m exploring myself, ya know.” Ashlee snorted, half a laugh half an expression of disgust. Adam, however, was totally deadpan. “You doubt? Let me grab my cock rings!” He began to unzip the top of his backpack as she aimed a kick his way.

“You’re so disgusting, that’s not even funny!” She laughed despite herself. She’d forgotten his sense of humor. He grabbed her foot and began to tickle as she pulled it away.

“Weak, you’ve just forgotten how to loosen up without me!” She giggled, and jerked her foot away from him, dashing to the stairs.

“You’re gonna have to haul that upstairs yourself, it’s not my job to carry your dildos!” She retreated to the landing, grinning down at him despite herself. Adam tossed a sandal at her (which she dodged) and shook his head.

“You’re not strong enough to handle it, I understand, little miss athlete…” He hoisted his bags back up easily, and advanced up the stairs behind her, glasses sliding down his nose as he ascended past her to his bedroom. She followed him, diverting to her own room and sliding back into her desk chair. Tapping on the keyboard, she deleted what she’d written, adjusting the title as she prepared to continue.

3/8/24 – Blog Entry 17 – “The Importance of Not Taking Yourself Too Seriously”:

Sometimes he is kinda helpful. She began typing up the start of her new post, feeling a little better about her chosen topic than earlier. After perhaps fifteen minutes of hard writing, she had a full paragraph, eclipsing her previous effort by a full 100%. She cracked her knuckles. Perspective is important, even if it’s coming from your screw-up older brother.

3/11/24 – Blog Entry 19 – “China, TikTok, and Media Platforms”:

-which is why it’s not difficult to see that today’s youth are utterly addicted to instant gratification. The paradigm created by infinite-scrolling applications like Instagram Reels, Twitter, and to the greatest extent, TikTok, is one of destroying already-reduced attention spans and subjugating the youth of America. If we want to maintain our position on the global stage, both academically and from an industrial perspective, we need-

“Yo!” Adam barged into her room without even bothering to knock. She heard her parents talking downstairs, the evening darkness creeping in to disrupt her attention just as much as he was. She hastily minimized her blog, spinning around to confront him.

“Did you forget how to be polite at college?” She interrogated, narrowing her gaze at him in admonishment. She was wearing boy shorts and a bandeau, her hair tied back with a band; he was in basketball shorts and another in his rotation of graphic tees. He responded by rolling his eyes, proffering a flash drive.

“In my book, politeness is bringing your bratty little sister a present, knocking is optional.” She looked at the cheap plastic 8 gigabyte drive in her hand, then glanced back up to him.

“Couldn’t have sprung for a 16 gig one?” She gestured towards her door: “Thanks so much bro, now get out!” Another eye roll from Adam, and he pointed to her laptop.

“Plug it in!” He bared his teeth, and gave a mock shake of his fist. She acquiesced, keeping her blog minimized, she popped it into her USB port. A file explorer opened, and her screen flashed to black. She paused, then looked up at him.

“Thanks so much, Bro, I’ve always wanted a broken computer!” He frowned at her biting sarcasm, and touched her mouse, bringing the screen back to life.

“If you took care of your computer, I wouldn’t have to break it-” He gestured towards the file explorer open on her desktop, “Presto! I’ve repaired it.” She clicked into the folder marked ‘Ashlee’, wrinkling her nose at the oil his skin had left on her mouse.

“You should really try this skin care routine I have…” She trailed off, clicking into the folder, she saw five different subfolders, marked ‘A1, A2, A3, A4, A5’, peering further, she clicked into A1, a single large MP3 file labeled ‘Focus’. “What are these things?” She was confused by both the strange organization and the cryptic files within.

“I know you’re trying for the Ivy League, so I grabbed some bootleg NeuralSounds™ files to help you study.” She grabbed her headphones and plugged them in, then dragged the folders to her desktop to copy them over.

“Oh, I think I’ve heard of those!” She exclaimed, dropping the pink over ears onto her head. She double clicked the first one, but was surprised to hear only a low droning or buzzing. Adam said something, but she had to take off one ear to hear him. “What was that?” He grabbed the mouse and turned the volume down a hair.

“I said: It’s a subliminal tone. Like, you turn it on, and it helps you to be more focused, or more productive, or just better at whatever you’re doing.” He clicked through the other folders, dragging the raw MP3s to her desktop so she didn’t have to click through. The others were labeled: ‘Production’, ‘Creative’, ‘Technical/Arithmetic’, and ‘Speed’. She snorted.

“Aren’t ‘Production’ and ‘Speed’ the same thing?” He gave her a dirty look.

“The correct response is ‘Thank you for saving my ass while I’m trying to apply to the hardest colleges in the country, Adam'” He quipped, ejecting his drive and tucking it into a pocket. “Just give them a shot, they might help with your-” Before she could stop him, he maximized her blog, to the in-progress post about social media, “-weird, terminally-online, pretentious blogging.” He finished, grinning at her as he backed out. She slapped at him, failing to connect but sending a message, suddenly annoyed again.

“Get out of my room! It’s good to have an online presence talking about important issues!” She glared at him as he almost (but not quite) closed her door. She knew he did it just to wind her up, and she stalked over and slammed it, another message sent to her jerk of an older brother. She returned to her desk, stung by his words, but resolved to continue her typing. She started the ‘Focus’ file again. It can’t hurt to give them a try, right?

3/22/24 – Reader’s Question on Blog Entry 23 – “Roles, Jobs, & Feminism”

Hi Girly! Loved your article, I thought it was really cool. Could your next one be about that smokey eye you did at ballet the other day? It was sooo retro, very unique. I know that’s not really the thing that you do on this one, but I really want to know how you did it. Thanks!

Caroline

Ashlee sighed, swiping away from the private message her friend had sent her. What does it take to become a famous blogger out here? She spun the kitchen stool beneath her jean-clad legs, absent-mindedly fidgeting with her earbud, the hiss of ‘Creative’ only half-heard while the other ear listened to her mom ramble. In theory, she was there to help Gemma with the batch of cookies needed for her dance team’s bake sale, but in practice, she had maintained at least 75% focus on her mobile device for the entire time. She briefly considered a pivot, a change of direction from her current course of action towards the bubblegum pop that her readers apparently craved, but cringed as she did so. Harvard doesn’t want some airhead! She’d really rather open up an OnlyFans before she would stoop to being a beauty blogger. I’ve got a nice ass, people would want to see it!

She imagined spreading her legs for a faceless camera man, rubbing herself in front of the lens, focusing on being as seductive as possible. I’d give them a great show. She absent-mindedly scrolled through the other comments on her blog, up to the ‘audience’ section – only a few hundred unique views since I started it. She wondered how many of them were men, and how many of those would spend money to see her tight, barely-legal body split by a big dildo, or an interested partner.

“You could get Adam to help fuck you on camera…” Ashlee’s eyes snapped up to her mother with utter shock at what she’d just heard.

“What?! What did you just say?!” She exclaimed, shattering the flow of her mom’s patter, and bringing the baking to a standstill. Gemma looked at her with surprise.

“I said: you could get them to help find you a part time job…” Ashlee blinked, it wasn’t what she’d heard a moment before. “You’re really so opposed to working a summer job? Your dad and I had them every year when we were younger, he didn’t even need a scholarship, just paid for college with his lifeguarding!” Ashlee shook her head as her mom resumed the rolling of dough.

“You’re not even forty, maybe dad could pay for school, but the 90s weren’t that much cheaper…” Gemma waved a floured hand at her assertion.

“It was cheaper, and he went to state school, little miss Ivy League…” She waggled her eyebrows playfully at her daughter, eliciting a sigh of annoyance.

“Well I am going to a good school, so I’m going to focus on getting five-digit scholarships, rather than making the $200 slinging pizzas would get me…” Her eyes wandered back to her phone, annoyed that this conversation was still happening. We’ve talked about this, Gemma… She groused to herself, her mom hadn’t attended college, and being the secondary breadwinner of the house behind her dad’s salary still seemed to rub her the wrong way.

“You could make six figures letting Adam fuck you on camera…” Again, Ashlee was jogged from her reverie by the shocking thing her mom just said.

“What?!” She exclaimed, almost tipping the stool backwards in her surprise. Gemma raised her hands in a mollifying gesture.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop talking about a summer job, no need to be so melodramatic about it…” Ashlee sputtered, looking around the room for anyone else who could’ve said that, as her mother didn’t seem to be reacting in the correct way.

“No it’s not-” She paused with uncertainty. Did I really hear what I thought I heard? She was left questioning her own senses: an overactive imagination and failure to properly listen was far more likely than the suggestion of ‘do porn with your brother’ coming from the woman who’d birthed them both.

“It’s not happening, I get it.” Gemma sounded disappointed, and shooed her towards the stairs with a hand. Ashlee rose to her feet, still confused. “You’re not even helping with these, don’t you have some kind of homework to do?” The dismissal stung, particularly when it wasn’t her fault. She beat a retreat up to her room, annoyed with herself, and with her mother. She flopped onto her bed with frustration, resolving to put it out of her mind. Don’t I have enough to worry about without making stuff up?

She certainly did.

4/2/24 – Blog Entry 38 – “Accidental Pregnancies & the Responsibilities of Motherhood”:

-because pleasure-seeking sexual activities, in contrast to similar habits in substance abuse and utilization, result in permanent side-effects more frequently. Unprotected sex is not inherently more dangerous than the use of substances like alcohol or marijuana, but feels so good-

Ashlee blinked at the last few words she’d written, uncertain as to why they’d appeared in her paragraph. She was a virgin, as what little handplay she’d done with previous boyfriends had never escalated to sex (and certainly not unprotected sex). She was dimly aware of her mom talking on the phone downstairs, what would she think if she saw this?! Ashlee backspaced, and tried again, the droning of ‘Production’ in her ears, lending speed to her fingers.

Unprotected sex is so fucking good-

What the hell? She rubbed her eyes, suddenly aware of her own arousal. She was wearing the same conservative, navy blue dress she had worn to school that day, so focused on putting out content that she’d forgone her normal workout. Her panties were wet beneath the knee-length dress, abnormally so. She was usually better at controlling her own feelings than this, but it must be dealt with if it was impacting her ability to write like this. Ashlee unplugged her laptop, and took it with her as she shifted to the bed, she lay back against her stack of pillows, headphones still in place. A whole new meaning to ‘Production’. She giggled aloud, allowing herself a brief moment of being a little ditzy.

“You need pleasure.” The sound caused her to start, but looking at the MP3 on her laptop, it was the same she’d been listening to, and she had no background tabs with videos. I do though…

She pulled the hem of her dress up to her belly, revealing her pale blue cotton panties. She pulled them down, briefly raising her legs to stip them wholly off, the hiss of static and deep bass notes in her ears encouraging her as she began to rub her clitoris. She smiled, moaned aloud, and bit her bottom lip. This is really good… She thought, increasing her speed, feeling vaginal fluid drip from her tight little slit, small rivulets of her arousal soaking into her dress carelessly, feeling her arousal increase with each passing moment. Her first orgasm hit her like a brick through a plate glass window, and she moaned loudly, feeling fireworks exploding inside her. She kept rubbing, teasing her clit, sliding a finger into her vagina, doing everything she could to keep her current feelings going, to continue to escalate her masturbatory joy.

Another shuddering orgasm pulsed through her, and she felt her pussy contracting, searching for a cock that wasn’t there to milk of its genetic material.

“You want him, you want his cock.” She heard it in her ear, or maybe she didn’t, maybe it was just her subconscious speaking to her. It’s right… She acquiesced despite herself as her fingers worked furiously to simulate a partner who wasn’t present to please her.

“A-Adam!” She moaned, not really knowing why. Maybe he was just the first guy to come to mind. Either way, it turned her on to imagine a cock penetrating her, plunging in and out of her birth canal with reckless abandon. She could almost feel him, and she spread her legs further, feet in the air as she pleasured herself, her moans, gasps, and whimpers filling her bedroom as surely as the scent of her fluids. Orgasm after orgasm rolled through her, her body shuddering, sweat staining her dress and beading on her forehead, as her gaping mouth made noises of need and pleasure.

“Give in, give in, give in, give in, giveingiveingivein-” She could feel the words sparking through her brain, her legs shaking in continuous climax, which continued until her shaking, shuddering body knocked her headphones from her head, snapping her back to reality with a start.

Ashlee was breathing hard, like she’d just run a 5K, and she suddenly became aware that she was lying in a pool of her own sweat. She lowered her legs to the bed shakily, only to find her dress also soaked with fluid, a result of several squirting orgasms during her goon session. She rubbed her eyes, a little askance at her own perversion. How long have I been masturbating? She looked around at her dark room, remembering it being light a moment before. She reached up and flicked on the lightswitch, only to see her bedroom door had been wide-open the whole time!

She had been moaning and climaxing for- An hour? Two? How many times did I cum?! – Her mind raced as she tried to rise to her feet, only to feel both legs immediately cramp, sending her sprawling. Her dress was still hiked up to reveal her smooth, bare legs to whichever of her parents felt like staring into her room. But neither of them checked on the noise. She thanked her lucky stars, and massaged her legs, enabling her to climb shakily to her feet, and then to her door. She peeked out, finding the rest of the house similarly dark, but hearing something from the direction of her parents’ room.

“God yes! Pete! Fuck me!” It was her mom, moaning for her father from their bedroom, their door also wide-open to the rest of the house. She snuck along the hall, past Adam’s empty room (as he had returned to finish the latter half of the semester), and peeked into their bedroom. Eyes readjusting to the darkness, she saw her father ensconced between Gemma’s legs, thrusting hard in and out of her as she moaned and screamed her pleasure to the sky. The slick, wet slapping sound filled their room, and she could see the penis that made her, slamming in and out of the vagina she’d been born from. Her father grunted loudly, and she saw his balls contract, pumping seed deep into her mother’s pussy. Gemma moaned in pleasure, her legs wrapping around her husband to coax all the sperm from him with her vaginal muscles.

Ashlee was open-mouthed seeing her parents like this, but felt a voyeuristic thrill filling her body. Her Daddy resumed his frantic breeding with her mother, her tight body taking the pummeling with a constant stream of exclamations of pleasure. Looking closely, Ashlee saw they were both wearing earbuds, likely the reason for them not noticing how loud they were being. She beat a retreat from the doorway, closing it behind her, feeling strange and unclean from her peeping. None of my business, I’m just glad they’re happy… She thought, returning to her room to strip her dress, and the sheets from the bed, all to the hamper. She could smell herself, the hour or two of masturbation leaving her skin salty and rough. She started her shower, and replaced her laptop on the desk, slapping it closed as she did so. Enough for tonight, writing included…

As she stepped into the shower, her mind was filled with a strange buzzing, a low hum in her head she couldn’t seem to shake. Her body felt wrung out, but still echoed with the pleasure of her masturbatory excursion, she felt more than a little ashamed to have spent so much time focusing on her body instead of what she should’ve been doing. Out of character, but not a bad time at all. She mused, even as her dried lustful emissions washed down the drain.

4/5/24 – Reader’s Question on Blog Entry 40 – “Electric Love – Sex & Neurotransmitters”:

Hey Ashlee,

Just a quick question, in paragraph 9, you wrote: “it is then, entirely superfluous for modern women to take birth control pills, or utilize condoms at all, when the pleasure generated from unprotected sex is their natural state.” – Is this really what you meant to write? IDK if that’s really the move, Sis, especially when you want to go to college, and don’t want to get pregnant yourself. I’m not sure why your blog is focusing on sex so much, it’s attracting a lot of creeps to your comment section JSYK. Hit me up after soccer practice if you want to talk about it!

XOXO Lisa

Ashlee glared at the private message post in front of her on the school library computer. Her face was hot with shame and the feeling of being taken out of context. Reading back over Entry 40, it felt wrong, it even felt vaguely misogynistic, but she couldn’t find anything incorrect when she read it word by word. She reached up to remove her earbud, but thought better of it, tabbing back to the math homework she had been working on before she’d received the notification of a new PM. The sounds of ‘Technical/Arithmetic’ were comforting, a buzzing she could feel in her fingertips. She was having a lot more trouble than normal with this Math, and needed it to help her figure out these solutions before fourth period.

If (3 + x)2 = 9 + ax + x2, for all x, then a =

Ashlee read the question again, then a third time, then stared at the scratch paper in front of her. She jotted the problem down, then her attention wandered. She was uncomfortable, and readjusted her shirt and sports bra several times, her grey yoga pants riding up her ass in an uncomfortable way. Despite herself, instead of applying her formulae, she started doodling nonsense phrases, geometric shapes, and abstract squiggles.

“This isn’t what you’re meant for.” The voice was right in her left ear, she jerked to attention, and hurriedly looked over her shoulder, only to find nobody there to speak to her. There were several empty desks and computers around her, and the closest group, a gaggle of boys, were focused on some kind of card game on one of the communal study tables. Disorientated, she looked back down at her paper, seeing what she had actually drawn. It wasn’t random squiggles, but instead lurid sexual images: breasts, vaginal openings, penises, even a fetus in a womb, complete with hands cradling the belly within which it was contained. First time I actually succeed in drawing fingers, and it’s on a random doodle. She glanced around again, rueful at her distraction, and crumpled up the scratch paper, starting again on the fresh sheet below.

If (3 + x)2 = 9 + adamx + x2, for baby x, then a = breed?

Ashlee did a double-take at the paper in front of her, intrusive thoughts climbing the inside of her skull as she read the words she’d added. Adam? Baby? Breed? Despite herself, she could feel her pussy getting wet, could feel her arousal rising as she tried to erase what she’d just written, finding the poor-quality eraser only smudged what she’d done, blurring but certainly not removing. She could feel a steady moisture from her vagina, shifted in discomfort, the movement causing the soft fabric of her yoga pants to create a pleasurable friction, further intensifying her arousal. Why didn’t I put on panties today? Commando was a mistake.

She put her face in her hands, feeling the coolness of her skin against the throbbing heat of her forehead, a buzzing still permeating her body from head to toe. Something is definitely wrong with me. She hadn’t been able to focus on her homework all week, receiving the first C grade of her entire life on a paper she’d submitted to her AP Literature instructor yesterday, and now Calculus had suddenly become impossible for her to focus upon.

“You should be spreading your legs for Adam.” A whispered admonishment right in her ear, causing her to again whip around. She glared at the group of boys playing their card game, causing them to look around nervously. What do they know about Adam? She thought to herself, huffing, gathering up her books, notes, and logging off the library computer. The passing period bell rang, and she stood up, shouldering her book bag and stalking towards the door out into the hall bad-spiritedly. She joined a throng heading in the direction of her next class, and walked quickly, lost in her own thoughts until she felt a tug on her sleeve. It was Jamie, one of her labmates in Physics.

“Hey Ashlee, I just thought you might like to know…” Jamie leaned in close, and whispered into her ear “I think you sat in something, you’ve got something wet on your pants…” Ashlee gasped, and turned this way and that, trying to see her ass around the bookbag.

“Thanks Jamie, shit!” The other girl nodded sympathetically as Ashlee ducked into the nearest bathroom nook. The girls’, of course, had a line out the door, so after a moment’s hesitation, she slipped into the boy’s restroom. I’m a senior, I can do what I want… She reasoned, and slid into the mercifully empty toilets, finding the first stall after the urinals empty for her. She hung her bag on the hook of the door, cursing as she examined her pants. What a day to wear grey… She of course hadn’t sat in anything, it was her own vaginal fluid that had been leaking from her in the library, coating the thin fabric of her yoga pants, unobstructed by any form of underwear or panty liner. She sat on the toilet, taking her pants down and dabbing at the crotch and rear with a few squares of toilet paper.

The 5 minute bell rang, and she cursed again. We never get enough time for passing period! She heard several of her classmates entering and leaving as she desperately tried to do anything to assuage her wardrobe malfunction. After a second of thought, she peeled the garment off her lower body, needing to also remove her shoes as she did so, leaving her completely naked from the waist down, seated on a toilet in the boy’s bathroom.

“It’s almost a good opportunity-” A voice whispered in her ear, and she stopped dabbing at the wet patch in her pants. “-to take care of your feminine needs…” She felt every hair on her body stand up as she felt a tingle growing in her belly, a need, a desire, a sensation which traveled down to her vagina, causing her clitoris to throb in response. Ashlee felt her heart flutter, blood pumping in her ears, despite her earbuds still feeding Arithmetic white noise into her brain. She dropped her pants on the floor, not caring about germs, and began to explore her pussy. Her labia were puffy and swollen, a testament to her excessive masturbation over the past few days, but that wasn’t really a bad thing. Some guys like a puffy pussy! She grinned as she inserted a finger into her slit, penetrating herself as she leaned back against the tank of the toilet. She gave a soft moan as another finger attacked her clitoris. Her legs were spread, allowing herself full access to the object of her pleasure.

“You could get someone to fuck you in here, it wouldn’t be as good as Adam, but it would be enough.” The voice whispered to her, and licked her dry lips. I could take a random cock inside me here. She reached up, and flicked off the latch on the door just as the bell rang, and a mass exodus from the bathroom began. She sighed in disappointment, and continued to massage her slutty hole, feeling a shudder pass through her once again. She pulled up her shirt and bra, massaging her breasts one at a time as she continued to finger fuck her tight little pussy in the boy’s bathroom. The door to the room banged open, and she heard a gaggle of voices, stragglers or truants, skippers, guys who didn’t see the value in traditional education.

“Oh ye-e-es!” she whispered as she felt her orgasm building, her legs humping the air, feeling an imaginary cock fill her, thrusting with youthful excitement.

“What was that?” One of the boys said, and the conversation outside suddenly paused. Ashlee saw feet approach the door, and slowly it opened, giving the five male Seniors an unobstructed view of her as she reached climax, which she did, mouth open, breasts exposed, pussy squirting and dripping her orgasm onto the floor, the toilet, and her discarded clothes.

“O-o-oh oh God!” She exclaimed as her orgasm shattered through her, causing her body to shake and shudder, her mouth open in pure pleasure as the guys scrambled to grab phones, beat a hasty retreat, or both. She heard shutters click, and recordings started as they saw a hot classmate masturbating in front of them. Ashlee was flattered, as she could feel their desire, could feel their attraction to her womanly curves, her tight, fit, body. She continued to moan for herself, for her pleasure, but also for their entertainment.

“Isn’t that what you should be focused on? Their pleasure?” The voice whispered to her.

“Yes! Ah! Yes!” She moaned, legs still fully spread as she shuddered in orgasm. She would’ve taken them all, let them plow into her slick vaginal opening, let them spurt their virile loads inside her if they wanted to become fathers, but she was forestalled by the unexpected arrival of a teacher, one of the hall/bathroom checkers after the passing period. The kind of guy who was responsible for catching people vaping, doing drugs, or watching an honors student debase herself in the boy’s bathroom.

In this particular case, he was successful in the latter. Despite his efforts to confiscate phones, and find Ashlee something with which to cover up, photos and videos spread like wildfire, there was no putting the cat back in the bag.

4/19/24 – Reader’s Question on Blog Entry 44 – “The Role of Women in Governance”:

Hey Ashlee,

Not a question, just more of a comment. I saw those videos of you in the bathroom, and you seem like a total slut. I agree that women shouldn’t be allowed to rule this country, they should be spreading their legs like you!

xXPaul69420Xx

Her eyes were red, rubbed raw from crying, but despite herself, she felt a twinge of pride from the positive comment. Her little voyeuristic stunt had earned her a 30 day suspension, and although she’d technically received her Valedictorian status, she didn’t think she’d be allowed to attend graduation. She slumped on her bed, ignoring the rest of the world. Her sheets were messy and unkempt, papers covered not only her desk, but the floor around it as well, a cacophonic mix of personal writing and projects she hadn’t submitted.

The school counselor had driven her home after the incident, promising to speak to her parents, and her, when her suspension was up. Mom and Dad hadn’t said anything when she returned home, or in the days since. They seemed busy, Dad was even more aloof than normal, while Mom was super focused on her yoga practice. They didn’t even have the time to be disappointed in her for turning from a prime student with Straight A’s to the school slut who exposed herself to anyone who happened to be passing. She had been holed up in her room, with only occasional trips to the pantry, for two weeks straight. She could smell her sheets, and wore only an extra-large tee shirt in the depths of her despair. A knock at the door roused her temporarily.

“Go away!” She snapped at the noise, but it creeped open slowly nonetheless.

“Honey? I was wondering if we could talk?” Gemma, her mother, finally come to execute her for her crimes, to express her utter disappointment, her complete lack of pride in her erstwhile daughter.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ashlee mumbled into her pillow, refusing to look at her mom, but feeling her sit on the edge of her bed nearest the door regardless.

“You don’t even know what I want to talk about…” She sensed her mother was smiling, which set her even more on edge.

“Don’t act like I’m a child, I know what you’re here for!” She sat up quickly, and glared over at Gemma. Her mom was wearing a sports bra which barely covered her voluminous breasts, and a tiny thong which only served to accent her curvy, athletic form. Earbuds in both ears were playing something unintelligible. She chuckled at her daughter’s anger.

“I don’t think you do, little chicken…” She moved further onto the bed, pulling the sheets back, allowing her to slide in next to Ashlee. She nudged her over to get some space, then pulled her close, spooning her daughter and gently playing with her hair. Ashlee was taken aback, feeling the older woman embrace her despite her unwashed body. She felt Mom push one of the buds into her ear: it was playing a fuzzy sound with a deep, throbbing tone on the lowest end of her register.

“Mom, I’m s-s-sorry” She started, tears falling from her eyes as she felt her mother’s embrace tighten around her, holding her as she cried.

“Shhh, it’s okay, you have nothing to worry about…” Gemma wiped away her tears, one hand traveling down her body to press into her lower abdomen. “Mommy is going to take care of you. This sound is called ‘Peace’, I use it at my yoga sessions, and it helps all of us relax a little bit.” Ashlee sniffled, feeling her mother’s bare legs touch her own, her shirt riding up a little bit, exposing her butt to the lace of her mom’s thong.

“But I- I-” She began, but couldn’t get the words out of her mouth, they died in her throat even as she tried to express her remorse. Gemma slid her hand below Ashlee’s shirt, leaving her hand on her belly, bare skin against bare skin.

“I’ve always worried you take things too seriously, baby…” She felt her mother’s breath against her ear, her hand not focused on her abdomen reaching up, bringing her chin around to allow them to have an almost eye-to-eye, heart-to-heart conversation. “Whatever you do, it’s okay. I would never be disappointed in you or your brother.” Ashlee stared into her mother’s loving eyes, and felt herself melt, feeling Gemma’s hand moving down her belly to her pelvis, gently squeezing her hips, then her ass, then moving forward to her pussy lips. They kissed, the older woman’s tongue entering Ashlee’s mouth as she felt a buzzing fill her head, a shard of desire entering through her ear and ricocheting around her brain. “As long as your pussy is open to your family…” Gemma finished, whispering into her daughter’s mouth as she pushed a finger into Ashlee’s inexperienced snatch.

Ashlee broke their kiss and moaned, feeling heat blossom in her womb, right below where her mom was caressing earlier, it was ecstasy. She pushed her hips against Gemma’s hand, stimulating her clit as her slit dripped with arousal. Her slick, buttery secretions covered her mother’s hand, dripping onto her thighs and the bedsheets below as she felt her walls clench and unclench around the fingers which slid in and out of her. Her mouth found her mother’s again, and their tongues danced, flicking between their lips and swirling saliva together. Her breathing grew frantic, legs clamping around the hand toying with her privates, feeling an earth-shattering orgasm spreading through her body. She whimpered frantically into her mother’s mouth, feeling it roll through her body, fluid dripping from her as she was forced to cum again and again.

“I need to taste you!” Gemma’s fingers left her pussy, and she spread her legs to give her mother full access to her vaginal slit. Shifting quickly, she gasped as she felt her tongue begin to play across her clitoris, up and down her labia, and sliding into her to suck on her sweetness.

“Mom! Oh mommy!” She cried out, feeling another orgasm building quickly. The buzzing in her head intensified as she clamped her legs around the face which was so pleasuring her, feeling the shuddering tidal wave of her love squirting into her mother’s mouth as it crashed over her. Gemma continued working her daughter’s opening until she collapsed, utterly spent from the orgasmic coupling. The younger girl rolled over onto her side, mumbling something incoherent, her lust splashed upon her mom’s face, the bedclothes, and soaking into her mattress.

“Shh, sleep it off baby, it’s okay…” Gemma brushed Ashlee’s hair behind her ear, then slid the other earbud into it, filling her brain with the sound of ‘Peace’ as she slept. Gemma tapped a brief message on her phone before setting it quietly on the bedside table, and leaving her daughter to rest, the powerful subconscious message fileting what little remained of her self-control.

4/21/24 – Blog Entry 45 – “My Pussy”:

The post is a full-page image of Ashlee, laying on her bed, legs spread, a needy expression on her face, posted for all the world to see.

Ashlee heard the gentle opening of the front door, and slowly gathered herself up from her parents’ bed. The last day and a half were a blur of debauchery with her mother, they had attacked one another’s holes with an indecency which would have shocked her in the past, but now only excited her for what was to come. She hadn’t seen her father Pete in a few days, but she assumed he had gone to a conference or something. Or maybe he’s joining in… She thought, hearing a distant conversation downstairs somewhere, interspersed by cries from her mom.

“You need to mount a cock soon, you need to feel sperm filling your womb.” She nodded at the voice in her ear, the specifics didn’t matter; all that mattered was pleasure, all that mattered was squirting her orgasms over every surface in the house. Wearing nothing but the earbuds streaming their subliminal messages into her grey matter, she shakily walked out of her parent’s room, looking for her mother. Her mouth watered, thinking about tasting the arousal of the woman who had birthed her, thinking about what she’d receive in turn when they 69’d. As she descended the stairs, the sounds of moaning grew louder. She rounded the corner into the living room, and spotted them; not her parents together, but Gemma being pleasured by Adam.

“Hey Honey, it’s okay, Adam is going to be joining us!” Ashlee stared at her mom and brother. He was laying on the couch, naked as the day he emerged from his mom’s birth canal. That same opening was now sitting on his face, vaginal fluid dripping down his chin from his mother’s arousal, as she stroked his cock gently up and down. She grinned at Ashlee, expressing a rictus of excitement “Both my babies are back home- OH!” She paused as her legs shuddered and she pressed the folds of her pussy down onto Adam’s mouth.

“Mom I-” Ashlee began, but she knew in her heart that she couldn’t help her lust. Her pussy moistened further as she saw Adam’s cock throb as he licked his mother. She approached the pair as Gemma rose from her son’s mouth and encouraged him into a seating position. Adam grinned at her as he aligned his cock beneath the older woman straddling him. His penis was average-sized, hard, pulsing with excitement to be entering the same slit that had pushed him out, and his hands shook as he moved them to his mother’s hips and she grasped him by the shaft of his baby-maker.

“Are you a virgin, Sweetie?” Gemma asked with barely-concealed excitement as she teased his cockhead with the folds of her entrance, pausing just shy of letting him enter. Ashlee saw her brother shiver with excitement as he felt a drop of his mom’s secretion drip down the length of his member. Ashlee began to stimulate her own vagina, feeling the anticipation in the room flow through her.

“He’s going to take your virginity when he’s done with her…” Her mouth dropped open at the suggestion of the voice in her brain, she couldn’t even imagine anything as hot as her brother slamming into her tight young pussy, deflowering her, cumming inside.

“Y-yes mom…” Adam admitted, his penis still throbbing at the door to penetration. Gemma giggled at his hesitancy.

“I’m going to take your virginity, then you’re going to slide into your sister, she hasn’t felt a cock inside her yet.” she began to rock back and forth slightly, rubbing her slick slit up and down his phallus, her arousal leaving a coating of shiny moisture on him as she did so.

“God, fuck yes mom!” his eagerness was evident as he bucked his hips, eliciting a gasp from her as he failed to enter her, but succeeded in rubbing his hard, rubbery cockhead against her clitoris. She looked down at him, reaching back to replace his penis- the same one she had made within her womb -at the hole leading back into it.

“You’re going to make me a stay-at-home mommy…” she said, as she sank onto him, allowing his teenage cock to slide inside her bareback, totally unprotected from her own son impregnating her if he came inside. Ashlee inserted two fingers into her pussy, feeling her legs shudder as she moaned. Her voice met their gasps of pleasure as her mother began to slowly bounce up and down her brother’s penis, lubricating him with her excitement as she did so, taking him deeper and deeper inside with each stroke.

“God, you’re so fucking good mom!” Gemma pressed her breasts into her son’s face, proffering a nipple for him to latch onto. She dropped fully onto his cock as he did so, his full shaft embraced by her softness, her wet folds squeezing him inside her vaginal environment. She gasped as his tongue and teeth lightly worked over her sensitive areola.

“I missed you breastfeeding, my sweet, sweet baby boy…” She began to ride him, quickly, her ass bouncing up and down on his thighs as she moaned, the slapping of their lovemaking filling the room. “I’ve wanted you so bad, ever since you stopped drinking my milk!” Adam remained latched on her breast, mimicking feeding from her, clearly heightening her excitement. Ashlee’s orgasm ripped through her, causing her slick desire to drip down her thighs.

“Fuck yes! Give her your seed!” The voice was a command, instruction to increase their collective arousal, words which were tuned to make their family grow.

“Fuck yes! Give her your seed!” She whimpered, parroting the words in her mind as she shuddered, sinking down against the wall as her legs became jelly, and her mother redoubled her efforts. A groan from her brother, long and low as Gemma continued her riding.

“Ah! AH! Yes Adam! Make me yours! Claim your baby!” She coaxed the cum from him like a professional, bouncing up and down as she milked his balls for his hot, sticky DNA. Adam needed no encouragement, and fired his cum up inside his mother, spraying his genetic material back into the womb that bore him. He released her tit and threw his head back, pushing her hips down to take his sperm deep in her velvet glove.

“Get pregnant you fucking slut!” Ashlee could practically feel his seed spurting up inside their mom’s wet, fertile slit, her mouth hanging open in ecstasy to match Gemma’s as she rubbed herself frantically.

“Yes! Yes! My baby boy! I love feeling your cum!” The vile act of incest was complete as she stole her own son’s virginity, taking his baby batter up into her belly in a way no mother ever should. His sperm flowed up into her, searching for her eggs deep in her uterus. His white, virile cum dripped out of her hole around the plug made by his penis, a testament to the size of the load he had just pumped into his mother’s baby factory, and his desire to inbreed with his family more generally. Gemma stayed, body shivering with delight as she flexed her vaginal muscles on top of her baby’s cock, taking his swimmers willingly, craving the child it would make within her even as she felt him soften and slide out of her breeding slit. She looked back at Ashlee as she dismounted, raising her legs above her and angling her pelvis downwards to encourage the flow of her child’s children into her fertile crescent.

“It’s your turn.” The voice spoke to Ashlee, louder, no longer a whisper but a demand, a command, an imperative.

“It’s your turn, baby!” Her mother echoed, smiling at her daughter collapsed on the floor as sperm swam into her cervix, coating the inside as they searched for the opportunity at a new life they would form within.

4/21/24 – Reader’s Questions on Blog Entry 45 – “My Pussy”:

Ashlee, what the FUCK are you doing?! You can’t post your fucking nudes online! Did you get hacked?! What is this?!

Lisa

Hey Sweet Girl,

Your tight little body looks so fucking good, I want to be the man who rams his cock deep into you. Fuck going to college, fuck doing anything apart from breeding, you’re a fucking bimbo and you’re going to be all mine.

Thick_Cockman452

Adam carried Ashlee upstairs to her room, leaving their mom behind, masturbating her pussy full of his cum to ‘improve the chances’. He glanced around at the piles of dirty clothes, the stains on the sheets from her activities with her mother, and the desk covered in crumpled papers. He lay her naked body on the bed, and looked down at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Look at you, so fucking horny, so excited even after masturbating your day away.” He reached a finger down to her slit, and dipped his middle finger inside, finding her soaking wet with arousal. She spread her legs in response, inviting, welcoming, begging him to enter her and take her virginity. She couldn’t stop herself, a mist had covered her vision with pure arousal, pure excitement at the prospect of incestuous copulation. This isn’t me! She protested against the fluttering in her belly, against the voice in her brain.

“Please, Adam, fuck me!” She heard her own voice moaning with desire, desperate for him to slide his thick cock into the furnace of her vagina, to quench the heat within her with his sticky, virile seed. He snorted with derision, but despite it, she saw his cock bob with blood again after his recent orgasm.

“I always knew you were a little whore…” He grinned down at her, and lined himself up with her bare, innocent slit. He rubbed it up and down her needy entrance, his penis still covered in her mother’s dried juices re-lubricating in her pool of fluid. “I just needed some help to prove it, and damn, you were only too willing to forget about your grand ambitions!” She felt a flutter in her heart even as she continued to beg, continued to spread her legs, her pussy lips, showing him the pinkness of her virginal hole. It’s not me, it’s the voice! She realized even as she debased herself to please him, to invite him deep inside her. She began to command her muscles to stop, to fight against the electricity which kept them clenched.

“Mom said you have to breed me!” She mewled, feeling degraded even through the haze of lust and brainwashing noise. Her older brother laughed, and she felt a little more pressure on her inner labia, making her bite her lower lip in pleasure. He glanced again over at the desk covered in papers.

“Did you even submit your application to half of these places? Did you remember before their deadlines?” She felt a drop in her stomach, a chill of remembrance even as her vagina still dripped for his penis. “Now that you’re posting your slutty nudes online, I don’t think it will make a difference.” He reached down and stimulated her clit, making her jerk with pleasure, finally feeling her brother’s own desire as his penis throbbed against her bikini region. “Let’s just make you a single mother, I figure that will ruin any last chances…” He slipped the head of his cock down her slit, and pushed his hips forward, lightly, gently, pressing his penis against her tight vaginal canal. She moaned in passion, feeling the heat of his blood as he pushed into her, coating the glans in her juices as he worked it into her, slowly and lovingly. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“He’s going to make you his little fuckpuppet…” The voice crooned into the back of her mind as it inserted itself more fully into control of her body. She felt what little control she had slip for a moment, and her mouth once again opened even as she tried to prevent herself from speaking.

“Yes! Oh yes Adam! I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours! No more college!” She bucked her hips forward, catching him off-guard, causing him to slip the head of his cock into her. She could feel his erection pounding with lust, and he stopped teasing her. Instead, he pushed her legs back, climbed into bed with her, and began sliding deeper into her virgin pussy. He grunted as he pushed, and she felt her hymen resist for the barest of a second, then his throbbing, erect cock deflowered her, and pressed all the way into her, eliciting a whimper of pain from the part of Ashlee’s brain that still felt that sort of thing.

“He feels so good!” The voice chuckled in her mind, filling her brain with echoes of lust and pleasure. She tried to resist. He’s my brother! This is wrong! She pushed back against the desire, the instinct to procreate with her own flesh and blood. She tried to free herself, to say anything negative about the experience of her older brother sliding his cock into his little sister. For a moment, she was in control. She placed a hand on Adam’s chest, applying light pressure as she spoke.

“Stop!” She felt her free will slammed out of her by the buzzing in her ears, by the sweet songs sang by the voice in her subconscious.

“Don’t stop!” The voice was a searing brand, an overpowering craving, a throbbing need radiating through her head. It felt like her brain was swollen, the effort causing her to slump slightly and breathe hard as the voice took control, speaking through her mouth.

“Don’t stop! Fuck me Adam! Plant your baby inside me!” She moaned, bucking her hips again, despite her resistance inside. The hand she’d put on his chest reached to his hip, pulling him deeper inside. He was stretching her, she knew he was the first to penetrate her and she felt his cock throbbing inside her, the first ever. For a moment, they were one creature, one lustful being trying to reproduce with itself, then he pulled almost all the way out, before sliding back in, stretching her again with his length.

“When I read your first blog post, I knew I was going to get you here, one way or another!” He started moving in and out of her faster, causing her to moan and whimper pitifully. “Who’s the disappointment? I’m not the pregnant high school dropout!” Ashlee felt a twinge of guilt, a feeling of apprehension surfaced as she fought within her psyche, but the continued thrumming in her earbuds pushed her back, away from the metaphysical controls of her own body. He’s right, he’s going to breed me and he’s right! She couldn’t resist, she couldn’t stop him, she wasn’t going to college, her destiny was right here with her legs spread, waiting for his children to spray into her belly, waiting for him to impregnate her with an incest baby. She screamed internally, fighting against the will of the small voice which puppeteered her body, trying to make her accept Adam’s violation of her fertile slit.

“N-not ins-” She started, but the words died in her throat, fluttering against her teeth as she clenched them.

“Yes, yes inside!” she could feel the voice growing louder, stronger, subsuming her will to fight as another wave of throbbing pain shot through her head, accompanied by nausea this time. Then her mouth opened, again against her will.

“Ohhh yes Adam! I’m just a fucking womb!” She couldn’t stop herself, she continued to fight it, but her lust (and the lust of whatever had taken residence in her grey matter) subjugated her. She could feel him throbbing in time with each thrust, and he breathed heavily with the effort to not cum immediately.

“Soon you won’t even need the earbuds, you’re going to be just like mom, willing, begging, breeding.” He groaned, and she felt his thrusts grow erratic. A dumb bimbo smile was plastered across her face as he plunged deep into her, feeling his cock touch her cervix, as he leaned down and kissed her. She tried her hardest, desperate to avoid her fate.

Another droning blast of mental pain seared through her, sending the room spinning around her until it slammed back into place. She realized she had succeeded in closing her legs, but all that did was lock him inside her as she felt his cock begin to jerk, begin to pump its genetic load deep into her belly. He gasped, feeling his seed enter his little sister’s body, feeling her clench and unclench around her, milking his balls of their virile load. She felt her resistance crumbling, felt her last semblance of control released. She was floating in a world of pleasure, a vast ocean of eroticism flowing through her, pulsing into her in time with his ropes of cum.

“Yesss Adam! I can feel your children inside me!” She moaned into his mouth, her teen pussy filling with cum, her brother’s cum. It was hot, and she felt it warming her from the inside as her formerly virginal slit massaged him, inviting his DNA to merge with hers and doom her to an incest pregnancy. In a last moment of clarity, she wanted to stop him, to get up, to run, to sprint out of their home and get help. But the only help I need is another load. The voice was back, but instead of whispering at her, it whispered from within her, her internal monologue silenced in favor of this sexual interloper, this brain-draining presence that now owned her body. She felt her brother slide out of her, and cum began to drip from her slit. She did what her mom had done, elevating her hips to ensure impregnation. He grinned down at her.

“What’s next, Sis? Homework? More writing?” She felt his cum permeating her womb, sperm seeking her eggs and swimming through her uterus. She smiled up at him, sweat beading on her forehead from her orgasms, and losing her virginal status moments before. She felt her hand rise to her head, removing the earbuds. Instead of a rush of power, she just felt the absence of control, trapped deep within her own brain as she watched herself taking actions she would’ve never done.

“Whatever you want, Adam, I’m yours to serve you…” She spread her legs, showing him his creampie leaking from her, and offering herself to him again. It’s time for round 2! The voice inside her head thought. It had supplanted the person she had once been, Ashlee was gone, and the voice was all that remained. Obedient, lustful, incestuous, and above all else: willing.

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