Taboo Tales (erotica)

101.0K · Ongoing
classic writer


This story contains strong erotic scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex. Author's Notes: Taboo Tales is a walk down a path strictly forbidden by 'polite' society. Incest. Few taboos are more reviled, and those who succumb to the trap of its feverish desires, face being judged and damned by those who uncover their 'sin'. Shunning is the smallest consequence of being exposed. The first story revolves around two damaged souls who suffered through the absence of love when it was needed most, then were betrayed in the most horrifying ways by those entrusted to nurture and cherish them. There are some dark subjects and moments in this story, but again, at its heart, it's a story of the healing power of love. Perhaps it's a love few can accept, at least not without intense guilt. Consider yourself... cautioned. You will also find other erotic stories compiled in this book for your reading pleasure. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.


Estranged Siblings:>Ep1

Note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.

Estranged siblings find in each other what they need most.

Read and enjoy..


Do popcorn ceilings lead to madness?

It was a hell of a thought to wake to every morning, Cassandra mused to herself as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

She desperately wished someone would scrape the crap from her apartment ceilings.

As she was living in a cheap rental apartment, no such renovations would happen anytime soon.

Her alarm had gone off only a minute or two ago, so she wasn't late, but she had to get up and get started on her day.

Cassandra worked as a teller at a bank, and she needed the paycheck. That was a truth she had to accept. It was also true that the bank manager was a misogynistic bastard with an overinflated ego.

Another truth she was dealing with was that she was bored with the job, as it barely scraped the surface of her capabilities, though it paid the bills. Barely.

When she finished her night school college courses, she'd be able to get a better job, but for now, she had to get up!

With a quiet groan, she slid her legs out from under the covers and tossed the covers back. She pushed herself up to a seated position and paused to let the throbbing in her head settle down. She'd gone out drinking the night before with some of the girls from night school. She didn't really fit into their clique, but she had no other friends to go out drinking with. She was relatively new in town, after all.

Heaving herself onto her feet, she staggered from her bedroom to the bathroom in the hall. Her small one-bedroom apartment also had one washroom. She listened, but Andre was still asleep. She'd be okay to take her shower now.

She closed the door and tugged off her sleep shirt. Looking down, she realized she wasn't wearing her panties.

Damn. Did she hook up with one of those idiotic college boys again?

She paused, and the evening before came back to her. Retaining her memories meant she hadn't indulged too far past her limit. Dancing... she recalled there'd been dancing, and she did do a little bumping and grinding, but that was it for sexual activity.

She sighed. It was becoming her thing. Sexual frustration, even when she hooked up with someone. None of them gave her satisfaction. Frigid bitch, the last prime specimen called her.

It wasn't like she didn't want to enjoy sex with a sexy man. Something seemed to block her from reaching her release.

She could definitely achieve an orgasm if she masturbated with her dildo, so it didn't seem to be a physical issue.

Cassandra critically examined the woman in the mirror, and the first thing she saw was that nose! It had a dorsal hump that made her feel like it dominated her face! She often swept her long straight blonde hair forward to cover one eye and her nose. Her attention moved to her eyes, which again seemed a little oversized for her face. They did have a sleepy bedroom quality that made the boys ignore her nose, so she didn't hate her eyes. They were pale blue with a darker ring around the outside of her irises. Yes, she didn't hate them.

Her mouth was wide, but her lips weren't thin, so it balanced out. Baring her teeth, she examined them in the mirror. She lucked out with how straight they were, as her father had several crooked ones.

A sudden flash of rage shot through her, and she gripped the countertop to keep her balance. She knew better than to think of the monster.

Stepping into the shower, she ran the water and quickly washed her pale-yellow hair, which hung down to mid-back. Scrubbing her pale skin, she assumed she must have gotten her coloring from her mother as well. Not that she had any memories of her.

She shook her head and climbed out of the tub to dry herself off. Wrapping the towel around her, she wished it was a beach towel as it barely fit around her thick body. She wasn't fat per se, just extra cushioned... in select places. Her breasts, hips, and ass were just more generously cushioned and made her delightfully curvy. She'd caught Andre staring more than once. She squirmed at the thought.

As well as being a little thick, she was fairly tall at five-foot-nine. She was two inches taller than Andre.

After she brushed her teeth and hair, she listened at the door but heard nothing. She stepped out and looked down the hall toward the living room. Still nothing, so she quickly went into her bedroom and closed the door.

She didn't spend too much time on her makeup, as it had to be understated in a business environment. Just some eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick, but not a bold color.

Panties, bra, nylons, slip, grey stretchy pencil skirt, and cream blouse went on, and she looked like a bank teller. She pulled on the grey jacket for her outfit and picked up her shoes, as she wouldn't put them on until she got to the bank.

Leaving her bedroom, she padded down the hall and slipped into the tiny kitchen to unplug her cell. It went into the purse she'd left on the counter. She looked in the fridge and smiled as there was the brown bag lunch Andre made for her the night before. It would be a cheese-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich, but the tomatoes would be in a separate plastic sandwich bag to keep the bread from becoming soggy. Mayo and black pepper to her taste. There'd be a pudding cup, a plastic spoon, and napkins in the bag, too. She took the bag from the fridge and added it to her carryall sack with her work shoes and paperback.

Before she left the kitchen, she peered around the corner to smile at her sleeping brother.

Andre slept on the sofa bed in the living room and kept his clothes in an old dresser, which doubled as the TV stand.

She paused as she saw he'd kicked his blankets down to the bottom of the bed. Her eyes were trapped by the sight of his hard muscles. He only wore running shorts to bed, so his body was on display.

Where she was blonde and fair-skinned, Andre was dark. His hair was jet black, straight, and long. It reached his lower back, and currently, it was flowing across his pillow and face. His skin had an olive complexion and was stretched tight over his well-defined musculature. Where she was cushioned all over, he had no fat to hide the contour of each and every hard muscle. They seemed like slabs of polished stone.

No, his body was more like cast steel, as he'd endured the endless hammer blows life sent his way. His childhood hadn't been gentle, but neither had hers been. They'd both been through the crucible and emerged damaged in their own ways but not broken.

Cassandra shook these dark thoughts from her mind and allowed her eyes the guilty pleasure of admiring the beautiful man before her.

Other than his luxurious hair, there seemed to be no softness to him at all, from the strong jawline seen through the curtain of hair down to his--her eyes were trapped by the tenting of his shorts.

When she realized she was staring, she pulled herself back into the kitchen and grabbed her purse, carry bag, and keys.

Face burning, she slipped her runners on at the door and stepped out into the hall to lock the door. She thumped it closed a little harder than she'd intended and hoped she hadn't woken Andre.

"Damn! That's a fine bubble butt!"

Jolting slightly at the sudden voice from across the hall, she turned to glare at her neighbor, once more feeling the stab of regret for sleeping with the man in a moment of weakness.

"Piss off, TJ," she said to the tall Tobagonian who was leering at her as he leaned against his doorjamb.

"Aww, don't be like that first thing in the morning," he said with a sly chuckle. "You know we had a good time."

She gave him a weary look. "I was too drunk to remember, and that seems like a tender mercy right now." Her eyes dropped to see he was stroking the front of his jeans. There was a bulge there, but for a moment, her mind drew her back to the memory of her brother's tented running shorts. That... seemed more substantial. She yanked her mind from the memory and saw TJ's leer had grown. She turned and flipped him the bird as she walked toward the stairs. Hearing his chuckle sent a shiver up her spine. How could she have been so stupid? He was a drug dealer! Granted, she hadn't known that at the time. She just knew that he was an orderly at the hospital.

Leaving the building, she hustled to get to the bus stop just before it arrived. She got a seat next to the window and glanced up at her apartment window as the bus passed. A stab of guilt passed through her with a chaser of tingles as her mind took her back to an image of Andre's body.

She looked straight ahead as she cursed her uncontrollable sex drive. There had to be boundaries!