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Imouto Kanna

I've decided to start writing my own short stories involving, Kanna. They will be mostly alternative universes and stuff. Kind of like small fetishes or whatever I'm craving at the moment. It will be third person style but mostly from Kanna's perspective.
If you like the way a story is going I don't mind turning it into a roleplay together 🙂

So the original universe I picture Kanna in is where the parents are usually not home due to business trips and being more interested in their careers. Her brother who I don't really have a specifics in mind, usually his name is something Japanese, he wears glasses,  has grey or white hair medium length hair, gold eyes, is at least 6 foot, slender, nerdy, and cares deeply for his little sister. Hopefully in my writing you'll get a better idea of his intended personality in my writing. I might write something short just to give you an idea.


Note: Oniichan means older brother in Japanese. 

Edited by Imouto Kanna
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Imouto Kanna

Today was different from most days. At school one of the boys confessed to Kanna and asked her to be his girlfriend. It was in the moment she realized there was someone she liked, but it wasn't that boy. She was actually wishing it was her older brother, Kyosuke, who asked her out. When Kanna was younger she used to joke that she would grow up and marry her brother and the adults would just laugh it off innocently. Now a bit older, she understands that it's not possible but she still has much love for her brother. Even though Kanna has just started puberty she hasn't developed much curiosity into sexuality. She wears a training bra and her mother took one of her evenings to show her how to shave her legs and armpits, not much hair has grown around and above her pussy yet and most mother's don't teach their daughter that anyways.

Because their parents' are hardly ever home, Kyosuke still lives with them at the age of 22 to help take care of Kanna, who's only 12. Kyosuke works and goes to school part time. Kanna is a student at a prestigious middle school and gets high B grades. Kyosuke was about the same when he was in school and choose a local college and part time job, he's unsure of what he wants to do for his life. He does know he wants to take care of Kanna, he saw what his parents never being around did to him growing up. In fact, taking care of her so much he's ended up developing his own special relationship with her. They used to bath together and Kanna would sneak into his bed at night when she had nightmares but since Kanna has started developing he's decided she needs her privacy and space even if Kanna herself doesn't quite understand that. At first he would make up excuses or stuff and eventually Kanna just stopped asking him to join her. It's gotten hard to not stare at her growing body and he's found himself developing an unhealthy interest in loli porn and porn involving little sisters which he keeps tucked away to make sure Kanna never discovers. That is a conversation Kyosuke hopes to never have with her. Kyosuke doesn't have time for a girlfriend right now; he's tried having one in the past but they often got jealous of how much time he gave his sister over them. Kanna was fine with her big brother having a girlfriend but that's because he tended to prioritize her over his girlfriend as previously mentioned. 

That one fateful day Kanna got confessed to, she decided to test something out. How would her beloved brother respond to her possibly getting a boyfriend? Would he be jealous? Protective? Maybe even get him to confess his feelings? When Kanna got home she decided to tell Kyosuke what happened but instead of telling her brother she told the boy no, she told him that she said yes. This is the story of that day.

Kanna had thought about this long and hard during her walk home from school. When she opened the door she kicked off her black dress shoes as usual and yelled, "Oniichan, I'm home!" Since Kanna went to a prestigious school she was required to wear a uniform. It was a navy blue, pleated skirt with two red stripes that went to her mid thigh and a sailor uniform top, also navy blue with red stripes on the collar and sleeves. She decided to include her own personal style by wearing thigh high black socks with red stripes. This was her warmer weather attire. During the winter it was similar but with long sleeves and a longer skirt and tights instead of socks.

As Kanna set her bag down and put on her house slippers, her brother was still upstairs trying to fit in a jerking session before she got home. The moment he heard her voice, he grumbled softly. He didn't have enough time to finish, but he also knew if he kept up with it Kanna might greet him in his room which could be even worse. Though the risk did turn him on a little bit, he tried his best to brush it aside and adjust himself; Kanna was usually hungry when she got home and sometimes she'd need help making a snack. So Kyosuke started to make his way downstairs once he felt calm enough. Kanna was already in the kitchen rummaging for something to eat.

"Did you need help, Kanna?" Kyosuke asked as he leaned on the archway that separated the kitchen and dining room.

Kanna took a deep breath, "Yes, but not with food, " she paused. "A boy at school asked me out today. Do you remember your first girlfriend, Oniichan?" 

For a moment Kyosuke frowned, he knew this day would come; the day when Kanna would start dating. He hoped he'd have a couple more years since she was still so innocent and the idea of anyone corrupting that annoyed him.  He'd be lying if he didn't admit to sometimes fantasizing about him being the one to introduce her to sexual stuff but he also understood how fucked up that was. As for his first girlfriend, he had a one when he was younger than Kanna, well kind of. All they ever did was hold hands, hug and kiss... Kyosuke decided to use that one in this instance. "I do, her name was Ayumi. It only lasted a couple weeks, as we didn't walk much over winter break."

Kanna didn't recognize this name but that is to be expected when there is a 10 year age difference between them. After a pause Kyosuke asked her about the boy who asked her out.

Uh-oh. Kanna hadn't thought that far ahead into how she wanted this conversation to go so she tried to think of things that might make him jealous. "W-well he's older..." Kanna paused, " he's turning 15 soon."  Kyosuke tried to keep his composure upon hearing his age. FIfteen is old enough to be pressuring his sweet little sister into lewd things. Kanna continued, "He goes to school with me and he's on the track team. He's also popular." To be truthful Kanna wasn't one who cared about popularity but she knew it meant a lot to some of the kids at school, however this didn't mean too much to Kyosuke who was still stuck on his age and caught the last bit about popularity.

"Kanna, I don't think you should go out with this boy." Kyosuke said calmly. What if this boy uses his popularity to his advantage and pressures Kanna into stuff? Or he makes up lewd rumors about her! Kyosuke thought. I must protect her. Kyosuke's own experience in school wasn't the greatest, people were mean and bullies. However, things for Kanna were different. She was well liked and got along with everyone she was just shy.

Kanna's eyes lit up, maybe he was telling her no because he was jealous! "Oh, no. Why not, Oniichan?" Kanna asked not hiding her excitement very well.

Kyosuke caught on to this and became confused. Kanna wasn't the best liar, her emotions often gave her away sooner or later. "Kanna.." Kyosuke sighed, "is there something you're not telling me?" Kyosuke started to overthink again. "Did this boy pressure you into a date?"

"What? No!" Kanna replied quickly. Maybe deceiving her big brother wasn't a good idea. "Ummm..."

Kyosuke heard rumors about how teenagers were during puberty but being a teen himself not too long ago made him feel that they were exaggerated. Now, he's not so sure, Kanna is hiding something from him but what? "Kanna," Kyosuke said in a stern voice, "out with it and don't lie to me."

(to be continued as I need to sleep haha)

Edited by Imouto Kanna
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(finally got back to this. I still am dealing with excess snot from being sick tho haha)

At this point Kanna was visibly nervous, she was fidgeting with her fingers and a bit jittery. She didn't like lying to Kyosuke but she also wasn't comfortable with telling him the truth but at this point she didn't feel like she had any other options. Before finally giving him a response she let out a deep, anxious sigh. 

"Okay Oniichan... a boy really did ask me out today, but I told him no because there is someone else I like already." Upon finishing her sentence her face started to turn red. Kyosuke noticed that her face was reddening and his mind started to wander again. There is someone else? I wonder why I haven't heard of this before, Kyosuke thought. Maybe Kanna is a lesbian. I've never seen her have an interest in boys before. This thought confused and overwhelmed Kyosuke, a part of him wanted to be aroused, happy but also sad, and also worried still. Kanna, however was still standing there in front of him with her blushing face not saying anything which worried Kyosuke even more. Perhaps this is why she was lying to him, she was afraid he might not accept her.

Kyosuke finally stopped thinking of all the possibilities and spit out what he was thinking. "It's okay if you like girls, Kanna. I still love you and I won't tell mom and dad."

"W-what?!" The red of Kanna's face darkened and she spastically yelled at him with her face scrunched, "No, dummy! It's not a girl! It's you!" W-wait, n-no!" This was not how I wanted this to turn out, oh no! thought Kanna. The look on Kyosuke's face when he heard this was pure dumbstruck. "I-I still want to m-marry you, Oniichan..." Kanna stuttered quietly. The innocence of his little sister was much stronger than he realized. Did Kanna know what happens when people get married? How could she not? Twelve is too old for her to not realize that sex makes babies and married people have kids. At this point Kyosuke's silence started to worry Kanna and her eyes welled with tears as she darted towards the stairs to get to her bedroom. Before Kyosuke could even articulate a response she was already long gone on her way to her room. While Kyosuke was still unsure of what to say he knew he had to say something to her, seeing Kanna cry hurt his heart so he went to her room quickly.

Kanna was laying on her bed crying softly into her pillow. She realized how ridiculous she sounded and she was afraid she ruined her relationship with her big brother permanently. He had always just been there for her, how could she not want him in her life forever? She heard a knock on her door and Kyosuke open the door. From this angle with Kanna on the bed, Kyosuke was able to see up Kanna's skirt but this was not the time for his perversion. Even if her striped panties looked amazing on her. He sat down on the bed next to her and started to pet her head to help soothe and calm her. "Kanna...I really care for you, too. But siblings can't be together." Kyosuke said softly which only made Kanna cry more.

"Why not?" Kanna asked her voice muffled into the pillow. Kyosuke however wasn't able to understand her in between the tears and the pillow. "Kanna I can't understand you when you're talking into your pillow," he said continuing to stroke her hair. In response Kanna lifted her head a little above the pillow and repeated herself.

What a loaded question, Kyosuke thought. "Well... it's illegal." was the simple answer Kyosuke gave her. This answer didn't help how Kanna was feeling and being an irrational teen Kanna still crying responded, "I won't tell anyone if you don't Oniichan.." This put Kyosuke in a bit of a bind. He believed Kanna to be telling the truth that she would not tell anyone but she was still so young and might not realize what could be getting herself into. At this point he just wanted her to stop crying and this could let him live out his favorite fantasy...

"Okay, Kanna. We can't get married because your age but I don't mind acting like we're married." a mischievous grin appeared upon his face as he remembered the lovely view of Kanna's panties he had upon walking in the room.  Hearing this, Kanna perked up a bit and lifted her upper half off the bed and looked at Kyosuke whose hand had traveled down her hair onto her back and was gently massaging it. Kanna had a sparkle in her eyes now as they started to dry and she mistook the smile on her older brother's face. "Oniichan can you say it too, though?" Kanna asked shyly in which Kyosuke gave a bewildered look. Kanna picked up on this look and said, "That you l-like me, too.."

Such a cute and innocent thing Kanna asked of her big brother. "Kanna.. I'll do you one better- I love you." He kissed her forehead as he finished saying that. "I've loved you for some time Kanna, but I ignored those feelings because as the adult I know I couldn't act upon them. But you telling me you feel the same way back, I don't need to ignore them anymore!" This however was very far from the truth... Kyosuke is still the adult and shouldn't have accepted her feelings. But it's very possible the lack of cumming from before Kanna got home has clouded his thoughts and a part of him is still aroused. Even though it was exactly what Kanna wanted to hear, her face still continued to blush and she smiled warmly. "I love you, too, Oniichan!" she exclaimed hugging her big brother tightly. Kyosuke squeezed her back but on the inside he started to plan something no older brother should be.

(this seems like another good place to be continued!)

Edited by Imouto Kanna
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Sooo, do you have any intention of continuing this?

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Imouto Kanna
On 8/31/2019 at 11:22 PM, Haley said:

Sooo, do you have any intention of continuing this?

I just noticed this now. I didn't think anyone was interested in this so I just stopped.

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      Dave continued to survey his tomb. Beyond his bed was the cabinet. Old, worn in, different from everything else in his home. It was passed down through his family. The polished oak was now layered in dust, with occasional spots of it wiped through with a curious finger to test its depth. It was closed now. Dave had forgotten. Before his end... “I have to clean that up.” He said, staring hard at the wooden furnishing. “It's got everything in it.” All of Leon Stride's awards and commemorations, several unfinished works, as well as the achievements of the novels of T. G. Renalds, his royalties and investments. He kept it closed now, as it only reminded him of how sick this world was. For years, he'd written poetry, flash fiction, novelettes, incredible works the likes of which hadn't been known for generations, under his pen name Leon Stride. He was lauded for his talents. But all the polished plaques, shiny medal-stickers on certificates, and starred reviews in the world wasn't keeping his heat on at night. He tried finding work, but it was terrible. “People... always people.” He rubbed his temples. “I hate people. If only there were a way for me to avoid them all, this wouldn't have to happen.” He looked back at the cabinet. “But no... I had to whore myself out, like a slutty crackhead.” His hands gripped the arms of his swivel chair, knuckles turning a yellowed-white. He produced incredible works of art, and had nothing to his name but a drawer full of merits. And yet he looked around, and the ghastly books about witches and werewolves and magical animals hardly kept stock on shelves. Overnight, authors – if one could call them that – went from nothing to millionaires. Dave knew he could do that. And he realized before long, he had to. Of course, he couldn't ruin his good name as Leon Stride... So T. G. Renalds was born. Dave despised Renalds. Writing such cheap novels as those, he felt sleazy. He could produce such greater work, but had to stoop to such levels to feed himself. Over the years, he felt the same burden of Leon Stride. Critics were never satisfied. When Renalds grew more popular and Stride produced less work, they called for more of him, calling him the only candle in a black night. But when he did produce new work as Stride, they called foul. He was lambasted for lapsing in his quality. With each successive work, Dave had to top himself. Each new novel had to be a better page turner than the last, to stay on the top of the charts. Every short story, every poem had to be more perfect than all those before it. And they all had to come out frequently.
      “If this world was worth the dirt it was made of, Renalds wouldn't be around. Or Leon Stride. I would be hailed as king of all print and word.” Of course, the world wasn't that way at all.
      Dave thought back to the very first time his work had been published. It was near the end of his senior year in high school. A bi-monthly journal agreed to publish his three-part poem. They paid him a small amount, for a small amount of work, Dave thought. Mistakenly he'd thought that it would be a drop in the bucket for the pieces he would someday produce. Yet it had given him hope, and courage. With encouragement from his best friend, Gale, he'd decided to ask Suzanne out. He had tutored her all year in math as well as history so she could stay on the cheer squad. He approached her in the hallway. It was a Tuesday, and he'd worn his best jeans and a brand new shirt, his hair freshly washed and slicked back. She had on a blue skirt and green halter-top with some guy's letterman jacket wrapped around herself. It wouldn't matter. She'd see what he was worth. She'd understand his brilliance and take the gem for what it was, not what people saw. He could still faintly smell her light cinnamon perfume.
      Dave had been wrong. She didn't understand. Thinking back, she couldn't have understood his genius. She was far too slow and dull. Time had dulled the sting of rejection, but her laughter at his request built the foundation of his towering fortress of hatred. Dave could recall the countless occasions that had withdrawn him from the world. Year by year, event by event, brick by brick, Dave made sure no one got in, and nothing got out. Not even Gale's kind words could penetrate his resolve. Suzanne went on to drop out of a community college in order to become the trophy wife of a wealthy wall-street businessman. An air-headed doll and a professional gambler, with the perfect life. That was the world he was living in. It was a world, he felt, that didn't deserve his genius.
      “Your world is...” Dave read his own message back to himself, and frowned. The world was doomed, but he'd be damned if when everything went to hell and high water, they would look back and blame him over it. He couldn't leave them with such an ill omen. He highlighted the block of text, and hesitated. Finally, he struck the delete key, leaving him with the first few lines he had constructed earlier.
      I look at this world, and I am shocked to see that anything but mud and manure crawl from the swamp that you people call lives. Yet you on distant occasion managed to allow a pearl to form among all this chaos and decay. In days of old, true art was celebrated. In your world, it is kicked aside as the leavings of rats and toads are held to the eye of the public and kissed with lust. You only lead yourselves down the path of death and despair, for so long as you worship what is
      And at that, the screen dimmed. Dave huffed. His leg had felt sore, so he reflexively extended it. He must have knocked the power cord for the laptop loose. Folding the screen partly down, he saw the plug hooked over the back edge of the desk. He reached for it, though it remained out of his grasp. He went for it with a slight lunge, only to knock it back and behind the desk. He balled his fist, bringing it down against the desk, producing a soft thud and an audible yelp of pain. He massaged his hand, though the sting seemed to radiate throughout his arm.
      Dave pushed the chair back from the desk, the wheels barely managing to roll over the matted carpet. Holding onto the arm-rests, he braced himself, before pushing himself forward, sliding off the chair and to his knees. He gasped slightly at the effort, before he started groping around. Finding the power cord after several minutes of blind groping, he fed it back up against the wall and onto the desk, making sure it would not slide down again on its own.
      He began backpedaling, when in his crawl, his hand landing on something. Square... no, rectangular. Flat. And hard. It was stuck to the ground, but he managed to pry it off, though he heard a faint cracking sound, possibly of glass. Setting the object next to the cups, he grasped the edge of the desk and heaved himself up. He momentarily lost balance, but managed to fall backwards into his chair again. He had to be careful moving forward again – he'd heard glass break, and he had poor circulation in his feet, so he didn't always feel some things right away. A quick glance at the clock told him he had just enough time to examine the alien object.
      Dave stared at the item for several moments. Cheap black plastic. It looked as though there were something hinged onto it, but it had broken off. He turned the item in his hands in order to face the other side of it, and came to a sudden realization what it was: A picture frame. “But who?” Dave turned his chair about, scanning the room for other hidden relics. However, there were no other pictures in the room. Satisfied, he returned to the computer screen for light. When he'd attempted to lift the frame originally, it had stuck to the ground, so part of the covering glass was shattered. Dave gazed upon the image, of three smiling faces, standing in a row. He had to recognize them sooner or later. They'd long since been blotted from his consciousness, though Dave knew it would come to him. An older woman with a gentle smile and crooked eyes on the far left. The portrait was faded and difficult to make out, but Dave forced himself to remember. Next to her, a teen girl with thick framed glasses, braces, and pigtails. Red pigtails.
      His mother. Gale. He'd forgotten almost everything about them, he realized. He set the frame down, just in front of his laptop. All that was left were shards of memories he'd bitterly clung to. Their failed advice, their apologies which could never undo the damage which had been done. But he knew that couldn't have been all there was to them.
      “My... best friend.” Dave said, focusing on the red-headed girl. She was the first one to encourage him into writing. “I'm no good.” He started to recall the conversation. “Sure you are, Dave. You're the best writer I ever read.” His voiced echoed off the walls, as if spoken back to him. “And mom.” He looked at the elderly woman. She always supported him in everything he'd ever done. When he told her he wanted to write, she took his flute to the pawn shop and exchanged it for a type-writer. Before the flute, it was a canvas and paint, and before that a camera. She never mocked his failures. He'd never been successful in anything artful. She had no reason to believe that he would be able to write well. But she did. She believed in him. And he'd blocked her out of his life. He ignored phone calls, stopped coming home for holidays, lost all contact with her. Years ago, just out of college, a lawyer had come to see him. It was only months before T. G. Renalds had published his first book, when Dave found out his mother had died, and he'd missed the funeral. His only reaction at the time was that of frustration towards her. She had left him almost nothing, other than a few relics; the rest of what little she had was given to church and charity. He kept the oak cabinet, and pawned the rest, and rued her for not giving him enough to live off of.
      “Mom... I'm sorry.” Dave lifted his arm to the frame. A clubbed finger traced her face. Without her, without either of them, he would have been nothing. The third and right-most figure on the frame was the last he called his attention to. A boy in high school. Over-weight, short, with pasty skin and greasy hair and mismatched clothes. And a wide, bright smile.
      Himself. Years ago. He stared at the frame longer, before noticing a red stain forming. He pulled his finger back; it had gotten nicked on a remaining shard of glass, but the stinging was dulled. He wiped the blood on his pants and held his finger until it had subsided.
      Dave set the picture frame down beside his computer, and reread his note. He scowled, shaking his head. How could he chastise the world for something he so blatantly had done for years? Behind his facade he screamed injustice. Upon his throne he claimed superiority, Dave now realized, and demanded acknowledgment of his greatness. And yet he ignored those precious to him. The true diamonds in the rough in his life, and he'd cast them into his wall as filling.
      He once more read his note, and had to write it again, at least in part. He had to leave this world with hope. They had to realize what was important, as he did not.
      In days of old, true good was celebrated. You must not let it pass you by. When gems of goodness are cast aside as meaningless, the dawn will grow bleak. Do not forget what must be important in life. Art, genius, kindness, true companionship. We've all made grave mistakes, but we must not ignore them, and worst of all, we cannot force our wrongs to be what is right. For what is right must always be what is right, and when what is good is what is bad and evil, the end is sure to follow. As far down the road of shadows you tread, the light can always be seen, and it always must be pursued. Never forget this.
      Dave pushed back from his desk, one final time reading the note. “It's perfect.” He decided. “... the light must always be pursued.” He glanced down at the cups still on the desk. “It's cheesy... but it mustn't be forgotten.” He took both cups. What was he thinking? There was good in the world, and people out there that would appreciate it, and continue to give it, no matter what the reward or consequence. There had to be.
      Dave stood, feeling his knees creak beneath his own weight. He pushed against the desk to support himself, but must have pulled a muscled. His arm was killing him, and it was so hard to breathe. His lungs locked up, starting to fight for air. His chest burned. Dave fell to his knees, dropping both cups. He clutched at his chest, before doubling over, choking through his last breath.
    • SuZu~nyan
      By SuZu~nyan
      Loli Artist and Gamer who lives with her older sister Kaoru. The two aren't well known, but online their creations are praised.
      [Yes] - I will roleplay as this character.
      ~.:| Character Info |:.~
      Full Name: Akage Kamiya (Akage-chan)
      Nickname: Aki-chan (Kaoru came up with it ;P)
      Age: 14 y.o.
      Height: 4'11" or 149.86 cm
      Weight: 94 lbs. or 42.64 kg
      Personality: Shy and Quiet/Reserved
      Family(?): Kaoru Kamiya (Onee-chan/Older Sister), Unnamed Mother, Unnamed Father
      Hair: Strung up in a ponytail most of the time, especially during work. Her hair is a light blue that slowly transitions like a rainbow.
      Eyes: Red/Magenta that fades into a dark navy blue. Her pupils are orange.
      Favorite Animal: Kitten/Cat/Neko
      Hobbies: Plushy Collecting, Drawing, Playing with Kaoru, Cosplay
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