Lyra the Deviant gets caught.

The week had been hard.

Not simply in the usual way of managing more siblings than any person should ever expect to even have times 10, 12? (not even her father probably knew…) but in a fresher and more miserable sense than usual for one Lyra Loud.

For now, what was the majority of her lifespan, she had aspired to be better than her origins as the fruit of degeneracy (unlike some of her siblings). To be the responsible, decent and disciplined adult her parents had failed to be when they pursued their life of casual indulgence- her mothers'; their life of parties, music and 'snacks'. Her father; his trickery, deceit and apparent incubus like sex drive (for what else but a demon would sire so many children?).

And up until a week ago, she felt that she had been making good progress in achieving that goal. She had good grades, practiced healthy eating and exercise to keep herself in a good shape, conducted her part time job as diligently as could be expected, went to Church every Sunday and did her best to follow through on those teachings in her daily life all while attempting to control the chaos that was the very overfilled Loud House.

Overall; she took more than a little pride in how well she'd done.

Pride that had been shattered seven days ago.

A solid week of misery from her newfound desires, grown from the seeming teasing of how her father's 'charms', now seemed so obvious be they from his evilly enticing rear, the body he'd earned over decades of Aunt Lynn's training, or just his easy affection towards her and the others. Then there was the dreadful suspicion she had that everyone secretly knew what a hypocrite she'd become, but worst of all;

The fires of rotten lust that constantly sprung up in the ever close presence of their igniter.

There could have been no greater humiliation for her- to be burdened with the want of incestuous seed. But now she was subject to the foul consanguineous desires that she'd always held in scorn. And it was all she could do make it through the week without snapping under the strain (or just settling for spanking Lupa silly, as the somewhat chastened little troll could attest).

But now a week after the worst revelation of her life, Lyra was once again attending her weekly duty of the washing- separating clothing into appropriate baskets and trying to ignore the horrid turning of the wheels of her mind, lest they rest upon the disgusting fact of what she was now.

There was a peaceful order in the chore though that really soothed her in the mind numbing simplicity.

Clothes in, clothes out.

Underwear in this basket, white clothes in this one.

Lulu's go in the incinerator because of The Incident on Thursday, Lemy's in the heavy duty bucket.

L3's in with the kids, Dad's in the-

Dad's…

Dad's underwear.

In her gloved hands were a set of red boxer-briefs, she could tell it was his rather than the brand that Aunt Lynn preferred because of the clear stretching at the front, rather than just at the back.

Stretching from when the fabric had been pressed against the legendary Log and balls that had once seeded her.

In the foul scent of the laundry of dozens of extroverted teenagers- no individual scent could hope to reach her. But somehow Lyra imagined she could practically taste the stale scent of her father's most intimate part.

One, sane part of her gagged at the thought- and went to toss the foul thing in the adult's 'delicates' basket-

But some terrible thing caught her eye.

The underwear was turned inside out. Likely thrown into the wearer's washing hamper without a second thought after a hard day of corralling the many semi-sane spawn his amorous 'adventures' had seeded.

And there, still stuck there in the weave was a single, white blonde hair.

It had been a week of sleeplessness and suffering. She had borne distressing suspicion, Aunt Lily's dark influence, and all the usual pressure from the household she usually withstood but magnified by the previous two to a nigh intolerable degree.

And now, after that solid week of wearing at her sanity- something important snapped inside her.

Lyra swallowed as her vision tunneled upon that damning white hair and her face heated with vile desire.

Put it down. Just put in the basket and get on with your life.

Unheeding her thoughts, her hand came closer to her.

Put. It. Down.

Her other hand dropped down as her insides turned liquid.

No.

She felt dizzy, and it was like she was feeling someone else manipulate her fingers as they reached for her belt buckle.

NO! NO! NO! NO!

The last thing she remembered was a foul, yet enticing musk that wasn't sweet- yet she couldn't help but breathe more to try and identify.

And then there was only rotten want and indulgence.

When she came to, she had disgraced herself.

She was on the floor, her back to the now still washing machine. In her mouth was the semi chewed, disgusting remains of what had been her father's underwear- which she promptly spat out as new sobriety rendered the taste properly wretched.

Her bare thighs glistened, and Lyra raised her hands to find them covered in cooling but fresh sin- her long pants and underwear bunched up around her knees as her bare arse rested upon the cold floor of the basement

"… Oh god," she moaned.

What had she done?

Why couldn't she control herself?

… Why was the house quiet?

She raised her eyes with dread, and felt what little self respect that wasn't dripping out from between her legs drain away as she witnessed the horrified expressions of two adults and no less than four of her siblings.

Lemy and Lina, the former looking like he was going to throw up and with eyes that bulged like they were going to pop and the latter with a mouth like an upside down 'u' and eyes practically receding into their sockets. Lupa, with her casually smug expression gone in favour of sheer shock- Lani's features twisted into some deranged satisfaction.

Then her mother, who looked awkwardly surprised and… disappointed?

But whatever Luna's expression might have been Lyra was distracted by the one realtive who stood behind them all with an entirely different outlook; the of course positively beaming visage of Aunt Lily poking up next to Luna.


"… sounded like a banshee, so we pushed the door open and…."

Lyra stared at her bedroom wall, letting the world go by in surreal disconnect.

Why not?

It was clear that her body didn't care for the mind's commands anymore.

"… and she asked for it?"

"Demanded it Linc."

But she had a solution.

One that her parents had kept in the attic as a memory of dark times gone by.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she jumped.

"Ah, sorry sweetie." Her father's hatefully caring voice soothed, and she blankly looked into his blue, blue eyes. "… I just wanted to see if you're okay after… you know."

"My disgraceful public masturbation?" Her voice was empty.

Lincoln winced, and he gingerly sat next to her. "… It's not the end of the world you know. You're a teenager so it's not like we didn't expect you'd-"

"I fucked myself to your used underwear." She remembered. "I remember how the stains tasted."

"Ah…" Lincoln withered under her cold, clinical tone. "Umm… maybe you were just pent up-"

"All while wearing the symbol of God." The cross on her neck glinted while her eyes bore that disturbing blankness. "I am a disgrace."

Lincoln's mouth twitched, and he almost said something, then he got up and paced. Lyra idly watched him, noting the conflicting thoughts crossing his face with mild interest.

Finally he turned to her. "You know that none of us ever really slept together right? Me and your Aunties I mean."

Lyra blinked. "I know Aunt Lily-"

"Besides her," Lincoln blanched. "And she was kind of high- neither of us really consented."

"What about Aunt Lola and Lana?" Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"I never-"

"I didn't say they slept with you." She curtly cut him off.

"… Oh." Lincoln flushed in realisation. "W-well that's besides the point. The thing is; a lot of us had…"

An suspiciously Lily-like squeak of opposition emitted from behind the door, and Lincoln glared at it. "Or have" he admitted. "Fantasies about doing it with family. But we never did- and yeah it's really weird and it sort of ended up happening thanks to Lisa's thing-"

"We are the product of degenerate fantasising and Mad science." Lyra calmly summarised. "I know this now. I apologise for assuming it was entirely your own fault and that the Funtime Machine story was a lie."

"Oh?" Lincoln brightened a little. "Well it's good to know-"

"I shall condemn Aunt Lisa's madness even more as a result." She stared into his eyes. "And remember that your own degeneracy still played a part."

The joy faded a little from his features. "Dang it! I…." he breathed out. "That's not really what I was hoping you'd take away from that revelation…"

Lyra stared at him, not a hint of her internal processes marring her face.

Lincoln stumbled on. "M-my point is that just because we have some 'out there' sex fantasies doesn't mean that we actually want to do them, or that it reflects who we really are. I mean- Loan shoots up people all the time in her games and she doesn't want to kill people now does she?"

"You haven't seen her diary." Lyra calmly countered. "The things she plans in there after a bad schoolday would turn Lani's stomach."

"… I'll talk to her later…" Lincoln muttered. "But my point is-"

"Fantasy and reality are separate things that do not morally damage the fantasiser. And that my 'sexual desires' don't represent a new fall from grace that has damaged my discipline and spiritual self, and are in fact a sign of healthy body becoming an adult." Lyra summarised "Is that what you were going to say?"

Lincoln stopped. "Umm… more or less." He shakily smiled. "I'm glad you got that so quick and… absolutely- but you're sounded a bit like Lisa, have you two been spending time togethe-"

"No." Lyra cut him off. "I'm only considering things with clarity."

Lincoln looked down at her, taking in her full form. "Then you know this is an overreaction right?"

"No," Lyra shifted slightly, ignoring the sounds of stretching leather. "Because you are wrong father. My body is contaminated with a lust so vile that it demands satisfaction that I will not give it."

"But this is-"

"And I will not hold myself to anything less than the standard I believe." Her cold voice didn't shake. "This is the solution."

"It's a fucking nightmare sweetheart!" Lincoln broke down, and reached forwards to grab her hands. "Please, just get a vibrator or something!"

"No." Lyra looked down at her hands enclosing hers, and her lip twisted as the vile heat rose again before she pointedly pulled them from his grip. "It's what is necessary…"

The ancient leather of the chastity belt safeguarding her sanity creaked again with the force of her movement. "… But some leather balm would be really nice actually."


A/N:

Thanks to Nuuo for a Beta-Read

I should emphasise, Lyra The Deviant gets Caught is a 'what if' from the mainline Lyra The Deviant story line- that one has a different ending in mind (still no actual Lyracoln though).