Next, I know for certain that my father married his first cousin (his mother’s brother’s daughter), who became my mother. This is not illegal in the UK – indeed if cousins couldn’t marry then most European royal families would have died out centuries ago. It is, however, considered inadvisable and runs the risk of birth defects.
If you have read the above carefully, and my suspicions are correct, you will have noticed this means that my mother was actually my father’s half sister as they both shared the same father – my great uncle. (Am I still making sense?) Their relationship is therefore incestuous (they are both still alive and well by the way).
My parents had three children – my two older sisters and me. My sisters are twins – not uncommon in families with some in-breeding – and are three years older than me.
My own childhood was characterised by love and confusion. When I was very young, my rather domineering older sisters used to treat me as if I was another girl. Often they would make me dress up as one, and for many years we thought nothing about being half dressed or even naked around each other – almost as if I wasn’t a boy at all. As a result I grew up slightly effeminate and suffered the usual consequences at school.
Then, of course, as I matured, the physical differences between us began to become more obvious. I still vividly remember the first time I had an erection in their presence.
I was horrified and almost paralysed by embarrassment as my sisters pointed to the obvious hardness between my naked thighs. After shrieks of horror and amusement accompanied by tears of humiliation, they finally let me go to my room where I cried on the bed in shame, my face buried in the pillow, hating the horrid long thin pink thing that had divided me from my beloved sisters. I tried to hide it between my thighs and stood in front of the mirror wishing my pubic area was as smooth and pretty as theirs.
After about an hour, my older sister Sarah came to see me. She wiped the drying tears from my face with her sleeve and hugged me, all the while whispering how sorry she was that they had been so nasty to me.
I began to feel better and hugged her in return as she stroked my leg affectionately. To cut a long story short, I had another erection but this time instead of shrieking, Sarah just looked at it, then gently touched it….and touched it some more.
She wasn’t laughing at me. She was curious – gentle and affectionate, but …. interested.
When she left I was even more confused. For the rest of the day she behaved as if nothing had happened, but that night, after I had gone to bed, she crept into my room and, after a few minutes’ pretending to read to me, touched me again.
This happened every night for nearly a week until, eventually, Sarah let me touch her in return. A few more secret visits passed before our ‘touching’ became mutual masturbation.
This secret enjoyment went on for many months. Sarah enjoyed making me cum with her hands, and I obeyed her every command with my fingers in return. It was genuinely mutual and loving in every way and I became less effeminate by the week. Indeed after a short time the bullying stopped altogether and I found myself much more attractive to and confident with the girls at school.