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ADBT: New Beginnings

Sirens... shrill, piercing, wails from the depths of hell itself. They never lie. Whenever they sound, death is certain to follow. My father says we're safe. He claims we live in too high of an income neighborhood, too far inside to reach. It's the perimeter sectors that get hit the hardest. They get what they pay for; it's the risk of being poor. Sometimes, when the mood hits me just right, I hope he's wrong. I hope that after the cry, the ground won't shake like it always does. I hope for a pause... then nothing more.

A whistle in the sky.

My very bed trembles, as the house sways and the foundations creak. A bit of plaster cracks off the ceiling and falls beside me.

That one was a bit closer than usual.

I close my eyes, and wonder if anyone has died just now. I try to imagine what it must feel like -- if in a split second before it happens, they know. Or are they oblivious? Are they cowering one moment, while the next moment is simply taken away from them, snatched out from under their nose? Another whistle, and another piece of plaster joins me on my bed. In the distance I hear some gun fire, or I think I do. At times like these, it's so easy to imagine things. I clutch onto my pillow, and wonder how long this will go on for.

"Melvin!" There's a frantic struggle against my door. "Open up, damn it! Let me in!" Scratching, pounding, flailing... Clarice is right on time.

"The fuck do you want, Clarice?" I can be so charming.

"Melvin! Open your door NOW!"

"Isn't it past your bedtime? Are you trying to wake the neighbors?" Another shell crashes down, shaking the very structure of our home.

"S-stop.. playing g-games! ...I'm scared!" Ah, the cold little bitch has broken down into sobs. I do so savor these moments.

"If you're frightened, why don't you go into the basement where your chance of survival is higher?"

"M-Melvin, I'm begging you... open the door."

"You never said please."

"PLEASE!!!"

With that, Clarice goes nuts on my door again. Kicking, pounding, slamming -- I bet she'd bite it too, if she could find a place to wrap her beak around. I can't help but chuckle at her childish antics, as I stretch and slowly, sleepily, climb out of my bed. The tip of my tail drags limply across the carpet as I waddle towards the door, undoing the series of locks I've affectionately named the Clarice prevention system. Fuck. I don't understand why I'm doing this. The bitch deserves neither kindness nor sympathy. But no matter how much she abuses me, I still love her. I'm still her bigger brother, and by some cruel and demented twist of vanity, I still feel a sense of obligation to protect her. I slowly, cautiously, open the door and am presented with a wretched, sobbing, catastrophe of fur wrapped in a nightgown.

"You realize that if one does strike us, you'll be fucking road kill if you're up here on the second floor?"

"S-so will you! You never go into the basement, unless Dad's here and forces you! You're so stupid, Melvin! You're gonna get us killed!"

"If only I could be so lucky..."

I close the door on her and turn back towards my bed. There's a full smile carved into my beak now, and she'd be livid if she saw. These are the only times I ever have the upper hand. Why wouldn't I enjoy it?

The door slammed open so hard, I swear the door knob must have punched a hole in the wall. I don't look back, but the heavy breathing is unmistakable, heard even above the sirens. I know the look so well -- those cheeks puffed out, milky brown fur turned a tinge of red from rage. Air coming out of her beak's nostrils so fiercely that it whistles the national anthem. It's her true face.

"Melvin, I swear to all the deities that be, that I will break you so har..."

We both see it, clear as day, right outside of my window. It couldn't have been more than a few miles away. I'm on my knees -- the house shook so badly, I swore it was going to collapse here and now. This isn't supposed to be possible. We're too far in. Our property taxes are too high. My father is too important. Their technology must be getting better. Fuck. For the first time in my life, it dawns on me that I may not actually be safe from the bombs.

"T-t-this isn't a-a game. C-come with me to the basement." So soft, so delicate a sound. I can barely believe it came from my sister.

"If I do that, we'll miss the fireworks."

The phone rings. It can only be my father, concerned for the first time, because one hit so close to home. He probably wants to know if any windows are blown out, or if anything is singed in his perfect lawn. Fuck him. I walk over to my desk and wait for the phone to stop ringing, before flipping it off the hook. Persistent son of a bitch let it ring eight times.

"Why are you such a-an asshole?"

"Bad genes, I guess."

I waddle over to the door again, gingerly closing and locking it once more. It's been a long time since I've been so excited; I feel so alive. So afraid. So overjoyed. It's a rare moment of clarity in an otherwise dim lit bleak and dreary existence. Everything, down to the smallest spec of dust, feels so real.

"D-do you r-really want us to die, M-Melvin?"

"Of course I don't..."

Clarice looks worse than ever. She's beak down on my floor, shivering so visibly, breathing in gasps as the tears flow down her face. I never know what to make of her; she's like a riddle with no solution.

Another whistle in the air. I barely feel the impact.

"Clarice... You look like shit."

I pad over to her and take her chubby webbed paw in my own, slowly lifting her up to hind paws.

"We're going to be alright."

"A-aren't you s-scared?"

"Yes... but you can't let fear control you. What will be, will be."

"Y-you're s-so fucking stupid, Melvin!"

Clarice lunges at me, clutching on in a desperate hug. She's shaking so violently, her thick fur matted and wet with sweat and tears.

"Ahhh... Watch the claws, sis. Save them for the next time you rape me."

Her claws dig deeper into my back out of retaliation, and I all but giggle. So predictable. Without much warning though, one lets up and travels down to my boxers, tugging at them.

"Surely you're not in the mood right now..."

"S-shut t-the fuck up!"

"Such a sweet little girl."

Her other paw travels downward to assist in stripping me. I put up no struggle. Modesty aside, it's rather dark in my room right now, and she's certainly seen it all before. Before long my boxers are resting at my ankles, and I simply step out of them completely. Her claws return to my back, but more gently this time. I place one paw behind her back, one beneath her tail, and lift her up off the ground. A little squawk leaks out from her bill, as she wraps her legs around my hips and clings on tightly.

"I should drop you."

"D-don't make me hurt y-you."

I shift her around slightly, to gain better leverage while carrying her towards my bed. But as I do, her short nightgown slips upward in the back, placing my paw halfway underneath it. It was completely by accident that the nightgown slipped, but I can't help but notice that my paw is now touching the bare fur of her buttocks, rather than the cloth of panties. It took a while to register; my sister is far too modest. I don't believe I've ever seen her go without panties before. Now intentionally, I shift her again, placing my paw entirely under her nightgown. She grabs on tighter, but doesn't complain. She's still shivering and sobbing; I don't think she even noticed. I don't know what has gotten into me. I spend so much time resisting her sexual advances, but suddenly I'm entertaining thoughts of placing my paw where she'd be certain to notice.

"I-I'm c-cold, Melvin."

"I'm gettin' there. You're just heavy." The claws dig back into my fur.

Finally making it over to the bed, I turn around and fall backs onto it. She's now laying on my chest, clutching my back while my paw is still under her nightgown. Her sobs have turned into whimpers, but she's shaking as much as ever. I roll us onto our sides, and pull the covers over, regretfully taking my paw off her ass and placing it on middle of her back.

"Melvin... D-do you l-love me?"

It's the first time she's asked me since... a long time ago, on a night I don't wish to remember. I lied to her then, but I don't think I can bring myself to again.

"Yes, Clarice, I do love you."

I hug her tightly and lick away the tears on the side of her fuzzy cheek.

Another whistle in the sky.

Her breathing is slowing down, and I can feel her getting warmer. Her fur is even beginning to settle back down.

"P-promise me you won't look."

"Wait, what?"

"Just promise, Melvin."

"Alright.. I promise."

Clarice lets go of me, pushes my arms aside, and begins squirming about. I'm beginning to think she's losing it, when all of a sudden I see the tip of her nightgown poke out of the blanket. A moment slips by, and she has completely wiggled out of her only garment, tossing it to the ground. I'm lost. Completely lost. All sorts of thoughts are swarming through my mind. Clarice has never done this before. I've always been blindfolded before the slightest hint of her losing a sock, and now she's completely naked. I could pull the covers away. I could push her out of bed. I could turn on the lights... I could... do nothing of the sort.

We clutch each other once more, now fur on fur, sharing warmth. She wraps her leg around my waste, as my paw travels down the middle of her back and lightly strokes the base of her thick tail. I can't believe this is happening. Is something happening? Her quivering has stopped, but her breathing is picking up pace and she feels so warm. I notice for the first time that I'm quite erect, and fully poking out of my sheath. The tip of my member is lightly brushing against her thigh. Her eyes are closed, and her face looks so serene.

The house shakes from another impact.

I lean over to lick her forehead, while my paw travels from her tail to the leg she has wrapped over me. I softly stroke the delicate fur on the back of her thigh, tilting my beak and licking the middle of her neck. My paw creeps over to her inner thigh, lightly pushing on it, lifting the leg off of me and pushing it outward. Her legs are now spread, vagina exposed, lonely, under those heavy covers. Clarice is being so docile, so compliant. I don't know who she is or what she has done with the terrible monster that is my sister. My tongue travels above her neck and across the bottom of her beak. I stop at the tip, lapping at the edge of her bill. When, to my surprise, she opens it and licks my tongue in return. I want to kiss her, just like the furs in the movies. I want to lock lips we don't have, and share something that two platypi can never experience. But I can't. I lick at her tongue, and across the inside of her bill the best I can. I taste her saliva for the first time, and savor the moment.

The sirens stop.

My left paw travels down her thigh, massaging the muscles, scritching the fur, pinching the tendons. So close to the zone, but no contact yet. My sister moans and wriggles about, clamping her beak down on the tip of my tongue. In all her moments of destructive lust, I've never seen her so aroused or feel so warm. At the same time, I never imagined anything consensual could ever happen between us. This is so disgusting... so immoral... so wrong. Every fabric of my moral being knows that this is wrong. But frightened as I am to admit it, it feels right. And who am I to discriminate between the two?

Her leg begins to quiver and her beak clamps down harder on my tongue. Her almond lids part, revealing the beautifully serene magenta eyes that penetrate my own. No malice. No greed. But glassy wet with desire. Enough. My webbed paw glides delicately across the final stretch of fur, resting upon her mound. Moist and throbbing, burning with heat. I skim a digit across the labia, mindful of my claw, gathering her wetness along the way. I stop at her cliterous, rubbing gently but firmly, matching the pace of her quickening breaths. Clarice releases my tongue and tilts her head back. Her gasping, panting, and moaning are all struggling each other for control of her beak, and Clarice seems lost at which one to favor. Her excitement preys upon my own, and I become increasingly aware of my own throbbing member. She's so wet. My paw is getting soaked.

My shoulder's getting sore from laying on it, and I'm really feeling the heat. I shift my weight and lift the covers just enough to let in some air. A bittersweet earthy musk wafts itself from beneath the blanket in return. My sister's scent came as a surprise, but now that it's here, I'm inhaling desperately, greedily. I've smelled my sister before, but never quite like this. I'm not just smelling her; the musk is changing me. It's in my brain, releasing sparks and chemicals. My skin is itching, burning beneath the fur. My beak has gone dry, and my vision's blurring by the second.

I'm losing my mind.

My cock is so hard that it's hurting me, throbbing, pulsing with an agenda of its own. My paw is furiously rubbing my sister's clit, and she's all but screaming at this point. She must have cum so much; the bed is soaked between her thighs. I can't take any more of this. I just can't take it. I bite down on my sister's exposed neck fur, pushing her onto her back and clambering on top of her. I barely give my paw time enough to move away from her mound. My tip has met her moist warm flesh, and a manifold of instincts are going to see it through. A spasm hits my lower back as my head penetrates, and my whole body is awash in pleaser as I thrust inside. The covers have slid down my back, up to my hips, exposing both of us to the open air. But my eyes are wide shut, my beak is firmly upon her neck, and for the first time in my life, my claws are dug into my sister's back. I'm thrusting over and over, grunting, sweating, biting harder. My body is shaking. A wave of pleasure washes over me with every penetration, and tension is building up at the base of my cock.

I imagine what my sister's cunt must look like. I imagine a time and place where she would be comfortable with me seeing and knowing. I think of all the times she took advantage of me, humiliated me, desecrated me. I thrust harder, faster, dig my claws in deeper. Clarice is trembling, whimpering, crying out in pleasure and over-stimulation. I realize this is what she wanted all along. But with a pang of guilt and sorrow, I realize it's what I wanted too.

My lower back is set ablaze with sensation and paralyzed with tension. My eyes are shut tight, but my vision is awash in searing white. My cock is so sensitive I can feel ever ridge and fold of her vagina. The throbbing is so fast, the tension so great, I'm coming. I'm coming!

I'm coming?!

I pull out just in time, praying that I won't get any inside of her. I'm on the bleeding edge and screaming inside. I grasp my member with a paw, giving one firm reassuring stroke, and I release. My body is in spasms, my spine alive with excitement. My penis is dancing; hot flowing semen on the inside, cold air tingling the moist sensitive shaft on the outside. I masturbate religiously, I've been molested by my sister more times than I care to think about, but I've never once had such an intense orgasm in my life. I release my sister's throat, and collapse down, my chest upon hers, with my sticky cum smeared between us both. The burning instinctual passion is gone, and in its place is a warm basking glow. I'm calm. Completely. I feel safe, and compassionate, and loved. Every fuzzy warm disgusting feeling that I loathe and distrust is swarming inside, and for the time being, given the circumstances, I don't give a fuck.

Slowly doubtful thoughts seep into my mind. I wonder if Clarice enjoyed it too, if she really climaxed or just leaked a lot. I wonder if she's finished, fulfilled. I begin licking her throat and move a paw back to her vagina, stroking ever so lightly. Clarice lets out a satisfied sigh, squirms, and bats my paw away. I guess she's had her fill. The blanket is off us completely, might have even fallen to the ground. It's so tempting. I feel a twitch in my penis as I fight off the urge to look upon Clarice. Maybe she could sense my inner struggle, maybe not, but she grabs my head with both of her paws and pulls it up to her's. Her tongue is wiggling at the tip of my beak, trying to get in, and I comply. Once more, we do our best to kiss with what we have. Limited as we may be, I don't feel it affects the passion, the feelings that our caressing tongues places in my heart.

"The, the blanket..." Clarice murmurs, as she slips her tongue out of my beak.

"I didn't look."

"I know... I'm cold. Would you go grab it? And..."

"Yes?"

"If, if you do see something... I, I won't kill you for it."

I wonder if I'm asleep, or if I'm drugged somewhere. It's possible that I'm actually in a coma. Maybe Clarice bashed my skull in, over some stupid thing I said, and this is my warped hallucination while bleeding. This can't be real. I look upon my sister's face, and for the first time I truly see her for the fragile being that she is. All of my suspicions and theories, not just proven to be true, but right here in front of me. Mine to manipulate, to relieve or deepen.

I close my eyes and feel my way to the foot of the bed. A small piece of the blanket is still clinging on the edge of my bed. I grab it and heave the covers over us long before opening my eyes once more. And when I do, hers are there with mine. So much warmth, so much longing, so much pain. I grab Clarice and hold her tightly. One of us is shaking, but I don't know who. I'm just holding my sister, crying tears I can't explain, feeling emotions I can't begin to put to words.