Secrecies of Love


[twin brother and sister incest, sex act with father, incest, deflowering, fantasy, Ovid, water nymph, mythology, erotica, exotic erotica]

Inspired by Ovid’s mythological Water Nymph, Secrecies of Love is a contemporary tale of twins, Simon and Rosie. Sent to separate boarding schools, they are virtual strangers when they return home to work on their parents’ farm. Soon after the family is reunited, their mother walks out, leaving Rosie at the mercy of her predatory brother.

Warning: A short story of just under six thousand words, featuring incest and graphic scenes that some readers will find offensive and which is unsuitable for all readers under the age of 18.


      My farming family is what you might call dysfunctional. When my twin brother and I were six, our parents sent us to single sex boarding schools and we didn’t return home for good until we were eighteen. By then, my heart had been broken by the enforced separation and the horror I endured at the hands of the school bullies. In spite of our expensive education, daddy expected us to work the farm and one by one he let his employees go. He hired seasonal workers as they were needed, but most of the time it was just the four of us. Mummy left us the same year that my brother and I finished school.
      “I’ve had enough, Rose,” she said. “It’s all work, work, work. And in the evenings your father is out, always out, and then there’s his drinking and womanising.”
      I was appalled. I didn’t see daddy that way and begged mummy to reconsider, but she was determined.
      “I waited. It’s taken all my strength to wait until you finished school and you and your brother could work with your father. You can take my place, Rose,” she said. Before I’d had a chance to think about what she meant, she had taken her things and left. After daddy read her note and threw it onto the fire, he said just two words: “good riddance.” And never spoke of her again.
      My brother threw himself into farming, and I guess because we’d been away at school, we didn’t miss mummy, and neither she nor daddy had been involved much in our growing up. Most of the time, I felt as if I was a stranger in my own home. I hardly seemed to know daddy and my twin bond with my brother hadn’t yet recovered from long separation.
      I adapted to the routine of the farm and didn’t notice much except hard work and the weather, which informed everything. The summer following mummy’s departure turned out to be the hottest on record and I wore as little as possible. As soon as my chores were done I would sneak off and sleep in the hayloft. I loved climbing high above the vast open expanse of the deserted barn to hide in my snug burrow. I would daydream about how things might have been if daddy had not been a farmer.
      Sometimes, on a scorching day, I spent my free time sitting on the bank of the pond. It’s a swimming pond, they’re fashionable now, but we’ve always had one. The water is usually cold, even at the height of summer. It’s kept clean by oxygenating plants and shingle filters. A small waterfall keeps the water constantly moving and clean and sparkling as a mountain lake. Irises, water forget-me-nots and water lilies flower in summer. Swallows, which nest in the barn every year, love to dip to the surface and I’m endlessly fascinated by the dragonflies which swoop and skim. At dusk, bats, which make homes in the barn, fly back and forth over the water, scooping insects in flight before returning to the sanctuary of the eaves. Herons, badgers and foxes come to drink; it’s a haven for wildlife and for me too.
      I learned to swim in the pond, and before I was sent away to school went swimming daily, except in the depths of winter, but I haven’t entered the water since I saw the green head of a grass snake break the surface. I don’t mind the muddy bed or the weed, but I draw the line at snakes, even if they’re harmless.
      One hot day, in the middle of August, eager to escape the heat of the afternoon sun, I went to the barn to take refuge in my usual hidey-hole. I was about halfway up the ladder to the hayloft when I heard my brother’s voice. He was talking on his mobile and heading my way. I didn’t have time to climb the ladder all the way to the top, or to go back down and get out of the barn before he was inside. I was kind of half way up when he came in.

Word Count: 5,995

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