Neither sibling got out of bed the next day. They each just lay in their respective bedrooms, staring at the ceiling, remembering what they’d done. The positions…the locations…the sensations. They told their parents that they’d come down with some kind of stomach flu, and it wasn’t until noon the day after that either of them got out of bed.

Craig winced when he heard the sound of a knocking on his bedroom door—the sound that would have had him leaping for joy just a few days earlier now filled him with dread, and when he opened it, he found Petra with a similarly gaunt look on her face.

“Hey,” he grunted, and gestured for her to come in and sit down.

“Hey,” she responded, and the two sat in silence for almost twenty minutes before either of them spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Craig finally said, but Petra just waved it off.

“I wanted it as much as you did.”

They didn’t say anything else, and eventually Petra got up and left Craig alone with his thoughts.

That night, she returned to his door, knocked once more, and waited for him to open it.

“Surprised to see me?” she said sheepily, looking much better than she had earlier that day. There was even the hint of a grin on her lips, though if you looked too closely, it would disappear.

“Well…” he said, trailing off. She didn’t need him to finish his thought.

“Listen,” she said matter-of-factly, once he’d let her into his room. “I figure that what’s done is done, right?”

“Right.”

“That old man did…something…to us, made us want each other. Nothing we could do about it. Right?”

“Right…”

“So we have a few options. We can sit here beating ourselves up over it, or we can just accept that hey—we had sex. People had sex. It happened.”

Craig stared at his sister for a few seconds before responding.

“Where are you going with this?”

“We’ve still got a chance at winning the four million, right? I mean, you still haven’t touched yourself, have you?”

“Of course not,” Craig replied quickly. “How could I?”

He didn’t mention the temptations he’d faced over the last day and a half. Mentally reliving all the horrible things he’d done to—and with—his sister had been devastating. But, even worse than that, as he’d recalled the feeling of her skin on his, the enthusiasm with which they’d fucked, the love that they’d felt…

More than once, he’d found himself getting hard at the memories. He’d dismissed the thoughts that aroused him as quickly as they’d come, feeling incredibly guilty for even thinking that way, but they kept coming back over and over again, until he’d honestly asked himself if it wouldn’t be worth four million dollars to masturbate and just get it out of his system.

“Me neither,” his sister replied solemnly, and there was a long pause.

Craig was about to speak when she startled him by finishing her thought.

“…but I’ve wanted to.”

Neither of them said a word, just stared as they realized where the other was at.

“Oh, fuck…” Craig said, as he realized what his sister meant.

“I know,” Petra replied, and after another long pause, added “…are we bad people?”

“Maybe he’s still…”

“No,” Petra said softly. “I remember what it was like. This isn’t…this is…

“This is just me.”

“Me too,” Craig said.

The pair stared at each other for a long while, until Petra said three words, so softly that Craig barely heard it.

“…four million dollars.”

Craig responded by rising from his bed and taking Petra in a passionate embrace. Their lips locked, even as both of them felt an incredible sense of guilt at what they were doing, what they were about to do.

Petra raised her arms to allow Craig to remove her top, and as soon as it was off, reached down and undid his belt as she had so many times before. His cock came into view, and she realized that the giddiness at the sight of it was gone, she didn’t feel the rush of euphoria, or the secure knowledge that she was doing the right thing.

…she just wanted it, enough that nothing else mattered.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking up at him with sadness, before leaning forward and taking the entirety of his member in her mouth.

Like riding a bike, it came back to her straight away, and she almost reached down to play with herself at the simple joy of tasting the familiar cock. Of course, that would have defeated the purpose of what they were doing. They were so close…if they used each other just a few more times, just to ensure that the money was theirs…

Petra bobbed her head up and down on it for a few minutes, refusing—unable—to look her brother in the eye. When he was good and hard, she removed it from her mouth, and lay back on his bed.

“Please,” she said softly, and Craig’s inner demons came out to taunt him as he got even more erect at the look of need in her eyes.

“Are you…you’re not…”

“I started taking the pill again,” she whispered, and Craig shuddered at the fact that he even had to ask, before leaning forward and slowly sinking his cock into his sister’s warm, wet, inviting pussy.

The feeling of each others’ touch was hauntingly familiar, and it wasn’t long at all before Craig warned his sister, and she allowed her own orgasm to wash over her before he met it with his.

As they redressed, the siblings avoided eye contact. Both of them knew that they could never do this again, that the physical sensations weren’t worth the lifetime of guilt that they knew they’d feel. This time they couldn’t even blame it on a curse, or a glamor, or whatever the perverted old man had done to them.

This time, they knew it was on them.

They lasted three days before having sex again. One last time, they each told themselves. Then it’s all over.

* * *

When Petra and Craig walked into the office of Lord DeGraves, they were met with the sight of his naked ass bouncing up and down as he repeatedly thrust into Bethany, who lay spread-eagled on his desk.

“Don’t mind me,” he said gleefully in response to their sounds of revulsion. “I’m almost done…maybe you can go next, Craig-y boy. In just twenty minutes time, you’re a free agent…”

They waited outside until a slightly flustered Bethany fetched them, cum dripping down her leg.

Entering the old man’s office, they firmly turned down his offer of tea, and sat before him.

“Now,” he said, fixing each of them with an intense stare before continuing. “I want to know…anything happen between you two since I saw you last? Don’t lie to me…if nothing else, at least tell me you’ve learned what happens to people who lie to me…”

“Fuck off,” Craig said, and the old man cackled merrily in response.

“I think I’ve got my answer,” he said, clapping his hands. “Right! How would you like to do this?”

The money was underwhelming, when they saw it—enough to fill two briefcases each. They weren’t sure what they’d been expecting—a truck, maybe. They accepted DeGrave’s offer of a bodyguard, and as they were walking out, Craig turned to the old man, slightly red, and asked how much he wanted for Bethany.

“Bethany?” Lord DeGraves said in a high-pitched wheeze. “You idiot, I’d never sell Bethany. She’s worth more than money can buy…she’s a rare gem.”

“Why?” Craig asked, unable to stop himself.

DeGraves gave a slow cackle before he responded.

“Because she’s a natural, my dear boy. I didn’t have to do anything to her…she’s here of her own accord. Always has been. But I’ll tell you what…come around any time and I’ll let you borrow her.”

Ignoring his sister’s glares, Craig walked away from the detestable laugh of Lord DeGraves, and the pair went to deposit the money into the nearest branch of their bank. DeGraves had called ahead so the bank was forewarned and, when they got there, the siblings were surprised by the level of service they got for depositing such large amounts.

Once all the paperwork had been signed, Craig sat next to Petra in the car and sighed.

“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?”

“We can do anything,” she replied softly. “We can go anywhere, be anyone…”

After what felt like a year, the silence was broken by Petra’s soft whisper.

“Craig?” she said, and he nodded in response. “…hold me.”

* * *

After that, it took a long time for things to get back to normal. Normal. What does that even mean?

I’ll tell you what the first thing I did when I got home was: I went into my room, locked the door, and jerked off. She never admitted to it, but I’d bet you one of my two million dollars that Petra did the same.

Breaking the news to our parents was hard. When they asked where we got the money, we told them that we’d done some “work” for Mason DeGraves, and to their credit…they never asked what.

Dad’s a banker, so he made sure that the bulk of it was safe, and helped us with buying a house, a car, all that kind of thing. Nothing too showy—if we spent it all frivolously, we’d burn through it in a few years, but with smart investments, treating it it sensibly, only using it when we had to…that four million, Dad said, was enough to live off for the rest of our lives.

Two months after everything finished, I had a housewarming. Petra and I got pretty drunk, and ended up sleeping together. The next morning, neither of us spoke about it, but we silently agreed that that was the last time—for real.

And then, two weeks later, at Petra’s housewarming, we did it again.

It was just so…easy. We’d spent so much time together, we knew each other’s bodies so well. And we really did love each other—that wasn’t something the sick old man had added, he just…accentuated it, I guess. Petra is probably the person I’m closest to in the whole world. I love her in a way that I’ll never love anyone else, and I know she feels the same way about me.

Don’t get me wrong, I know how fucking wrong it was. So did she. But after few drinks, or a particularly bad day, or even just when there was nothing else to do but sit in our big empty houses and slowly go mad…we’d turn to each other for comfort. And it was comforting. There was love, there was a connection, there was a history…and there was just good old-fashioned chemistry between us.

No one ever caught us, or even came close. Maybe we were lucky, maybe we just had a gift for sneaking around. Having our own places probably helped…I’d go around to Petra’s to help her move some furniture, I’d stand too close or something like that, and we’d just lean in and start making out like a pair of horny teens.

I tried to get her out of my system, truly I did. I even went around to Lord DeGrave’s and took him up on his offer. When I got there, there was a girl in cat ears waiting to see him…I never did find out what that was all about.

Bethany was incredible, don’t get me wrong. Those boobs…those legs…that submissive side that she just couldn’t hold back. But it wasn’t the same.

I considered taking a trip around the world, but it wouldn’t erase the memories. I even considered becoming an alcoholic, but every time we had a drink, it’d happen again.

I spent weeks, months…hating myself, tempted to go to the casino and burn through my whole fortune in a night. It was taking over my life…killing me…and I’d have bet my life that Petra felt the same way.

Finally, I knew what I had to do.

* * *

“The Cookes are here to see you, sir.”

“Who?”

“The Cookes, sir. Petra and Craig.”

“Ah, yes! Back for more, is he? Well, I don’t need you for the rest of the day. Go on, Bethany, you’ve earned yourself a piece of young meat.”

“His sister is here too.”

“So? You’re bi, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, but…they’re here to see you.”

“Hmmph. Well…send them in. And offer them tea. They’ll say no, but I want to see the look on their faces when they do…”

“This way, sir, madam. Tea?”

“No.”

“Of course, madam.”

“No thanks, Bethany.”

“A pleasure to see you again too, sir.”

“Okay, enough small talk. What is it that you two are after? I do hope you’re not going to be troublesome. That would be…unfortunate.”

“It’s not that, Lord De—…”

“We’ve shared a woman, lad…call me Mason!”

“Fine. Mason, Petra doesn’t know why we’re here.”

“What was that? Speak up, girl?”

“I said that I didn’t want to come.”

“It was my idea, sir. We…I…I want you to turn us back.”

“Hmm?”

“To how we were before…your package.”

“What?”

“What?”

“Petra, just…trust me.”

“Craig, I have no interest in going back.”

“Seriously, sis…I know what I’m doing.”

“I…fine.”

“So…the two of you “want to go back”? Now I’m old, my hearing’s going, my mind isn’t what it used to be. Tell me…what exactly do you mean by that?”

“I…we…we want to go back to before we realized we were under a spell, or whatever it was.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, Petra, we do. I can see it on your face every day…it’s killing you. Just like it’s killing me. We know what we’ve done, there’s no going back. But I don’t want to live with it, every day…do you? I don’t want to wake up each morning knowing that I’m a sister-fucker…and worst of all, knowing that I’ll do it again.”

“Ah ha, so the pair of you did…—“

“Just shut up, Mason. Petra, listen—you know I’m right. It eats me up inside, every day. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat…and honestly, I’m even struggling to jerk off without visions of you popping into my head. There’s something here, something…weird, and disgusting, and sexy. Something strangely wonderful. And I don’t like it, but I want to. I want to like it. And Mason—Lord DeGraves…he has the power to make the bad half of it go away. He has the power to make it just be a good, beautiful, sexy, fun thing. I love you. That’s all I want. I want to love you without any of the guilt, without any of the self-loathing or the hate or the…I just want the good stuff.

“…and I know you do too.”

“…”

“…you know I’m right, Petra.”

“…fine.”

“What’s that, girlie? My hearing’s not—…”

“Fine.”

“Ha! So it’s a bit of guilt-free sibling loving you’re wanting, is it? Well, sure, I can do that for you…but it won’t come cheap. How does one million each sound?”

“Mason, we—…”

“That’s Lord DeGraves to you, missy. Unless you want me to call Bethany back in here—I’m sure she’d be willing.”

“Lord DeGraves, please…we’ve earned this. You know we have.”

“…”

“…”

“…fine! Fine. But don’t let word of this get out, do you hear me? I don’t want people thinking I’ve gone soft in my old age.”

“Believe me, your Lordship, I don’t think there’s a risk of anyone thinking that about you. Ever.”

* * *

The couple looked out over their new house. Halfway across the world, in a country where they knew absolutely no one.

It was amazing what money could buy.

A few dollars in the right hands, and no one knew where they’d gone. And when they had arrived, their last names being the same had been interpreted as the sign of a married couple—an assumption that was reinforced by the constant affection between the two. The hardest part had been convincing their parents not to look for them, but again…they’d been strangely understanding, and avoided asking any of the wrong questions.

As soon as Petra stepped inside the house, she’d slipped her top off, and when she’d greeted Craig with the sign of two brown, pert nipples, he’d laughed…and taken no time at all to lean down and pop them in his mouth.

“Oh, husband…” Petra moaned as he tasted her for the first time in the new country.

“Oh, sis…” he replied, as he moved from one nipple to the other.

Her breasts were noticeably bigger, he decided, as he undid her skirt and watched it fall to the floor. She reached between them, and unbuckled his belt, the same thrill of anticipation hitting her as it always did. His cock hit the brisk air, and she smiled, and got down on her knees.

“Wouldn’t want you getting cold,” she said with a smile, before slipping her mouth over his hard member, and warming it up.

Fifteen minutes later, Craig was cumming inside his sister for the second time as he spanked her pert butt. He’d decided to fill up her ass this time—in the coming months, it was possible that they wouldn’t be able to do all the positions that they were accustomed to, and he felt that anal would almost certainly be the first to go.

She sighed, and lay her head against him.

“Do you know what my favorite thing about this place is?”

“Well,” Craig said after a pause. “We’ve only just got here, so I’m going to guess…what we just did?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “No, it’s the fact that I don’t have to wear clothes. I’m never going to have to wear clothes inside my own house again…”

“Not never,” Craig responded jovially. “I mean…”

His hand drifted down to her stomach, and she covered it with her own.

“True,” she said, after a pause. “But…well, not for years. And maybe we’ll have one of those naked houses.”

“Maybe,” Craig said, and held her for a few minutes before getting up.

“Where are you going?” she pouted, wondering why he hadn’t picked up her leash and taken her with him.

“I promised Mason I’d send him our address as soon as we got here.”

“Ew,” she shuddered. “That guy gives me the creeps. Why are we even still in contact with him?”

“Well, he did sort of get us together…”

“I suppose,” Petra said, with a roll of her eyes. “In a way…but why does he need our address?”

“Don’t you remember that conversation before we left?”

Petra thought hard for a minute, before shaking her head.

“No?”

“I really don’t.”

“He said that if we sent him our address, he’d make sure that Trish—that’s the girl who runs that bakery you like—would send us a dozen cupcakes every month. I’m addicted to those things, and don’t lie—I know you like them too. It’s been almost two weeks since I had any, and already I’m jonesing…”

“Fine,” Petra said, her laughter following him down the hall. “But hurry back! I want to christen every room in the house…tonight, if possible!”

* * *

Lord Mason DeGraves leered at the blonde eighteen-year old girl sitting in front of him.

“And…you’re sure you’re not a cheerleader?”

“Hey! Don’t you speak to her like that!”

“Dad!”

The girl hit her father on the shoulder, and he rolled his eyes and sat back in the big chair, sipping at his tea, trying to pretend that there was nothing strange about the fact that his daughter was sitting on his lap and chatting to a billionaire about her hobbies.

“Sorry about that, your Lordship. It took me a while to convince him to come…and then I told him how much you were offering. One and a half million, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” the old man said with a wicked grin. “One and a half million, in cash. You’ll receive it in cash at the end of the month, provided you follow my every instruction. I can get you security to follow you to the bank, if that’s what you want to do. It’s your money—I just want to make sure you don’t lose any of it!”

“Of course not,” the girl who was apparently not a cheerleader said, flashing her brightest smile at the old man.

“And all you have to do for it is sit down together once an evening…and watch one hour of porn.”

“Dad,” the girl said, as her father began to stand up in anger.

Lord DeGraves sat back to watch them with a smile. This, he knew, was going to be a fun one.

—

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If anyone else would like to write a story featuring Lord Mason Degraves and his wicked wagers, please: by my guest.

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