Table of Contents

Part 1: Moira

Part 2: Haley

Part 3: Jenny

Part 4: Allegra

The university gym smelled of chalk and sweat, a familiar perfume to the eight elite gymnasts who stood in a loose circle, their bodies humming with post-victory endorphins.

Coach Reed paced before them, his silver whistle swinging against his chest.

"Extraordinary work today," he said, his voice carrying the authority of decades on the competition floor. "But success is fleeting. Championships fade. We need to think about legacy."

The four pairs of siblings exchanged glances — top-notch athletes whose skill and genetics had made them the most formidable collegiate team in decades. Matt and Haley Thompson, the floor exercise specialists; Greg and Jenny Martin, masters of the parallel and uneven bars; Jim and Allegra Davis, vault powerhouses; and Chad and Moira Collins, technical wizards on pommel horse and balance beam.

"You're all aging out," Coach Reed continued, his penetrating blue eyes scanning each face. "Haley, Jenny, Moira, Allegra—your competitive careers will end soon. NCAA regulations, physical prime, biology—it's inevitable."

Moira Collins shifted her weight. At twenty-one, she'd spent more hours on the balance beam than most people spent sleeping. Her dark hair was still pulled back in its severe competition bun.

"So what's the plan, Coach?" Chad Collins asked, standing slightly apart from his sister. At twenty-four, his final season was already coming to a close. His hand rested casually against the wall, but Moira noticed the tension in his shoulders.

"The plan is the long game,” Coach explained. “You and your siblings possess the same exceptional genetic makeup that makes you champions. The same work ethic, the same drive."

A strange silence fell over the group as his meaning began to register.

"I want each brother to impregnate his sister," Coach Reed said flatly. "Create the next generation of champions. The Collins siblings will go first.”

Chad's eyes flickered to Moira, who stood still, her face betraying nothing. But beneath her composed exterior, something unexpected stirred—a tinge of heat in between her legs at the thought of her brother's seed taking root inside her.

Chad felt his cock stiffen against his singlet, the taboo of the suggestion only heightening his arousal. He'd always admired his sister's body—how could he not, as a fellow athlete?—but had buried any inappropriate thoughts. Now, given permission—no, ordered—to breed her, those thoughts surged to the surface with shocking intensity.

"You can't be serious," Jenny whispered.

"Perfectly serious," Coach Reed replied. "Think about it. The combination of your genetics, plus raising the children in the sport from birth—we'd create dynasty. Champions by design.”

"You have some time to figure out how you'll approach this," Coach Reed said, turning to leave. "But it's non-negotiable."

As Coach Reed's footsteps echoed away, Moira finally met her brother's gaze. His eyes had darkened, and she recognized the look—it was the same intense focus he brought to competition.

She should have walked away, reported Coach Reed, ended this madness. Instead, she felt herself growing wet, her nipples hardening beneath her leotard. The absolute insanity of the idea ignited something primal within her perfectionist soul—the ultimate forbidden routine, with the highest possible difficulty score.

Still, she wasn’t sure.

+++

Three days after Coach Reed's announcement, Moira found herself alone in the auxiliary gym with Chad, their gym bags abandoned by the door.

"I've been thinking," Chad said, stopping directly in front of her. "I know you’re hesitant. But I have a wager that should make this interesting."

Moira raised an eyebrow, maintaining the cool facade she'd perfected through years of competition. "More interesting than incest and forced breeding? That's a high bar, brother dear."

Chad's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "A competition. Between us. Winner takes all."

"Define 'all,'" Moira said, crossing her arms over her chest. She hated how her nipples had hardened at his proximity, betraying her composure.

"If I win, I get to fuck you right then and there. Fill you up with my cum. Breed you like Coach wants." His voice dropped lower with each phrase. "If you win, I'll be your servant for a year. Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Moira's pulse quickened despite herself. "And what exactly is this competition?"

"Saturday night. Private access to the training facility—Coach already approved it. You do your beam routine. I do pommel horse." His eyes glittered. "Completely nude."

"You're insane." But even as she said it, Moira felt a treacherous dampness between her thighs. The thought of performing naked—being watched, evaluated, desired—sent an unexpected thrill through her.

"Maybe," Chad shrugged. "But I've seen how you look at me when you think I don't notice."

Moira's cheeks flushed. "I do not—"

"Your pupils dilate. Your breathing changes." Chad stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Just like they are now."

Her mouth went dry. Her first instinct was to walk away. Tell someone—though Coach was clearly no help. On the other hand, her competitive nature told her she would simply win — no need to worry. "Fine. Saturday. But when I sweep the scores, you'll be doing my laundry for a year."

Chad's smile widened. "Deal."

+++

Saturday night arrived with alarming speed. The training facility was technically closed, but Coach Reed had arranged private access for "specialized training." The eight gymnasts gathered in the main gym, the overhead lights casting dramatic shadows across the equipment.

"So," Matt said, breaking the awkward silence. "Chad explained the... competition."

"And you all agreed to judge?" Moira asked, scanning the faces of her teammates. To her surprise, none of them seemed particularly shocked or disgusted.

Allegra shrugged her athletic shoulders. "I think we’re all pretty curious,” she said as the others nodded in agreement, the crew arranging themselves on makeshift furniture where the performances were to take place.

The room felt suddenly small, airless. Moira thought to herself she could still walk out, but then she found herself calculating her chances, imagining victory. Or maybe, a treacherous part of her whispered, imagining defeat.

"Ladies first," she finally said, reaching for the hem of her practice leotard.

The room went silent as she peeled it from her body. First exposing her shoulders, then her small, firm breasts with nipples already hardening in the cool air. She pushed it down over her flat stomach, past her hips, revealing the neatly trimmed strip of dark hair between her legs. Stepping out of the garment, she stood naked before her brother and friends, athletes all of them, accustomed to bodies but not to this deliberate exposure.

Jim whistled low, earning a playful smack from his sister Allegra.

Moira approached the beam, chalk bag in hand, the only tool she'd retained. She chalked her feet and hands, each movement deliberate, aware of every eye on her naked form. Then she mounted the beam with a simple hop, assuming her starting position.

Her routine began with a series of poses that highlighted the lines of her body—legs extended, toes pointed, back arched in ways that would never be part of an official routine. She moved slowly, sensually, knowing the rules had changed in this private competition.

She risked a glance at Chad, who watched with undisguised hunger. Her brother's gaze ran over her naked form like physical touch, lingering on her breasts, the curve of her ass, her pussy that was already gathering heat and moisture.