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Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Female/Teen female, Incest, Virgin, Oral Sex

For a list of all the Incestuous Harem’s Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.

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Click here for Chapter 19.

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June 28th, 2027 – Elmer Bennett

I fell to my knees before my wife, unable to resist the incestuous ache any longer. Both my women, my wife and daughter, wanted me to do this. Clint Elliston believed it was right, and my wife had come to agree with him through her counseling sessions with Pam Elliston. The temptation I’d had the last two years with our teenage daughter and her blatant flirting boiled through me.

I couldn’t resist. The last of my morality crumbled away.

I stared at the pair of pink panties my wife wore. Candy’s panties. Our daughter had masturbated in those and given them to my wife to wear. Over the last two years, I had developed a fetish for masturbating in my daughter’s used panties. My wife encouraged it when she found out.

She would stroke Candy’s panties up and down my cock. Then she started wearing them herself and pretending to be Candy. Now…

I pressed my face between Rachel’s thighs. I breathed in my wife’s sweet musk. It was such a similar scent to our daughter’s pussy. I could smell another sweet delight. My daughter’s pussy juices that soaked the crotch of these panties from her masturbation.

I groaned and then licked. My tongue flicked across the gusset of the panties, pressing them into my wife’s pussy folds. Her juices mixed with my daughter’s. An incestuous delight. I shuddered, my hands sliding around my wife’s hips to grab her ass. I gripped her rump. I squeezed tight, holding on and pulling her panty-clad snatch against my mouth.

“Oh, yes, yes, lick our daughter’s juices off those panties,” my wife moaned. “her breasts jiggled in her top. “That’s it. Be a naughty daddy. Enjoy the mix of our flavors.”

“So fucking good,” I groaned, gripping my wife in my strong hands.

My tongue licked and lapped at her. I pressed the panties into the folds of her pussy, soaking the material in her juices. I sucked at the cloth, drawing out both of their cream through the fabric. My wife gasped, her body trembling.

Her moans echoed through our kitchen. This was a wild day. Selected for jury duty on the Elliston trial and now eating my wife’s pussy out with hunger through our daughter’s panties. I feasted on her. I caressed my tongue up and down the groove of her pussy. I pushed the fabric into her pussy lips.

Her labia engulfed the gusset of the panties. Her shaved labia spread on either side. I caressed those naked cuntlips. She gasped as I stroked up to her clit. Her bud pressed hard through the cloth. I sucked on it, savoring the sweet juices staining my mouth.

“Yes, yes, such a bad daddy!” she gasped. “I love it. You’re going to fuck our daughter. Make her into a woman. She’s sixteen. She needs to have a man ravish her. She needs her daddy to fuck her hard.”

“Yes!” I growled, gripping my wife’s ass through the panties.

“You’re going to give her such pleasure,” my wife moaned, her voice echoing through the room.

“I’m going to make her explode on my cock!”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

I sucked on her clit. More and more of those sweet juices bled through. My wife’s cunt cream soaked the panties. She attacked her top. She pulled it off, her breasts jiggling in a gray bra. Large and bountiful. She reached the front, unhooked them. The cups sprang away. Her tits spilled out jiggling. Her nipples thrust hard. She grabbed them. Twisted.

Her moans grew throatier and throatier as I sucked on her pussy through her panties. I caressed her cuntlips. I devoured her pussy. I pushed the panties as deep into her hole as I could, drenching them in Rachel’s juices. The incestuous rush of eating my wife’s cunt through our daughter’s panties was incredible.

“Elmer!” my wife gasped. “Oh, yes, yes, Elmer! Just right there! Oh, that’s what I need. Mmm, that’s incredible. I’m going to cum so hard!”

“Good!” I growled.

“Going to soak our daughter’s panties in my juices!” she moaned. “Oh, yes, yes, she’s going to love them. Candy’s waiting for us!”

“Fuck!” I snarled and sucked so hard on her clit.

My wife twisted her nipples. Her face scrunched up in rapture. Then she gasped out loud. She bucked, her tits heaving. Juices gushed through the panties. They bathed my mouth. I groaned, drinking down the sweet flood.

My cock throbbed so hard in my jeans. The ache to slide into my daughter built and built as I drank my wife’s cream. The incestuous need for my sweet Candy surged hot through me. My wife shuddered as she ground those panties on my face as she reached her climax.

“Oh, god, Elmer!” she moaned. “Oh, yes, yes, our daughter needs you. Needs the man of the house to step up and love her!”

“Yes,” I growled and then stood up. I ripped off the dress shirt I put on for jury duty. The buttons burst off. I threw it to the ground, my muscles flexing. Down to just my khaki slacks, I grabbed my wife.

I threw her over my shoulder with ease.

She giggled in delight, her large breasts pressed into my back. My arm wrapped around her upper thighs to hold her in place. Her rump, clad in those panties, was right next to my face. She had such a great ass.

Dick throbbing hard, I carried her through the house. I marched with purpose, so eager to throw her down and then ravage Candy while my wife watched. I would fuck our daughter so hard. It would be incredible. My dick twitched and throbbed in my slacks. The ache to unload spurt after spurt of cum into my daughter’s depths consumed me.

I licked my lips, savoring the taste of my wife lingering there. She had such a yummy pussy. Just like our daughter had one.

The stairs creaked. My wife trembled, her legs twitching. She cooed, her hands caressing my back. I reached the top floor and marched to our daughter’s bedroom door, past the bathroom where I had learned the delights of her used panties. I reached her door, threw it open.

She lay on her belly on her bed, playing with her phone. She had on a tennis skirt and a tank top, her legs folded, feet thrust up in the air, toes curling. She tossed her phone to the side and glanced at us.

“Mmm, Daddy, I heard naughty sounds from downstairs,” she cooed. “What were you and Mommy up to?”

“Your mother’s wearing your panties,” I said, swinging Rachel down. “Isn’t that naughty of her?”

“So naughty,” my daughter said. She parted her legs and showed an inviting shadow. “I didn’t have any clean pairs to pull on.” Her legs spread wider. Her shaved pussy appeared, slit barely parting to show off her inner, pink depths. “Now I know why.”

I bent down and ripped the panties off my wife’s hips, pulling them out from between her thick pussy lips. My wife’s shaved cunt appeared, her labia quivering for a moment. Then she stepped out of the panties and I threw them at my daughter.

She trapped them and rolled over onto her back. She pressed her panties into her face, her skirt sliding down her elevated legs. Her pussy beckoned as she inhaled the sweet delights of her mother’s own cunt.

“You soaked these, Mom,” she gasped. “Ooh, she’s such a naughty mother, Daddy.”

“Yes, she is,” I growled, licking my lips. I hungered for my daughter. I would feast on her. I would devour her utterly. My mouth salivated to pounce on her. I advanced, unfastening my belt as I went. Then I reached the bed and grabbed my daughter’s knees.

I thrust them even farther apart. She gasped, her legs spreading wide. She quivered there, her breasts rising and falling beneath her tank top. She had a round face like her mother, but youthful instead of mature. Black hair fanned out over her pink pillow. Her breasts were round, more modest than my wife’s big and lush tits.

The scent of sweet, teenage pussy filled my nose. I had breathed this scent in on her panties, but now it was fresh. From the source. Finally, I would devour her. I kissed up her right thigh, smooching at her tan flesh. I came closer and closer to that juicy pussy, nearing the tan line left by her bikini bottoms.

She quivered. Moaned. Her mother slid on the bed behind us. Rachel’s fingernails scratched at my lower back as I kissed closer and closer to our daughter’s virgin twat. Candy whimpered as her sweetness called to me.

I pressed my mouth into her pussy and licked. She gasped. Her body arched as I dragged my tongue across her virgin slit. I traveled from taint to the pinnacle, brushing her hard clit in the process. It just peeked out of her lower lips.

“Oh, Daddy, yes!” my daughter moaned in wanton delight. “Mmm, that’s so good. Your tongue feels so amazing!”

“Good,” I growled and licked at her snatch.

I lapped again as my wife’s fingernails scratched to undo the waistband of my khakis. A shiver ran across my skin as she followed my waistband around. I groaned into my daughter’s fresh, young twat and feasted on more of her incestuous juices.

They soaked my lips and mouth. My hands shoved beneath her ass to grip her teenage rump. I squeezed and kneaded her as I pulled her cunt tight against my face. She shuddered, thighs gripping the sides of my head.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she squealed as my tongue slid over her hymen.

I pressed on that thin membrane that guarded her pure depths. I caressed over it, so eager to be in my daughter. My cock had to escape my pants and boxers. Luckily, my wife knew what I craved. She unsnapped my khakis. Pulled down the zipper. As my tongue caressed up our daughter’s slit to her clit, my wife tugged off my pants.

Candy moaned. Her thighs gripped the side of my head. She held me to her pussy as my tongue explored around her clit. I caressed that little bud. Teased her. I knew what her mother liked. They were so similar. Created in the same gorgeous mold.

“Daddy, you’re going to make me cum!” she moaned, her round titties jiggling in her tank top. Her nipples poked at the thin material.

“Good,” Rachel purred. “Just drench your father’s face. He loves your pussy juices so much.”

“Mommy!” gasped Candy. “I will! Just drench him! I’m so glad he’s finally loving me!”

“I told you he would.” Rachel pulled my pants down to my knees. Then she yanked down my boxers. “Mmm, you have such a gorgeous ass, Elmer. Firemen have such hot bodies, don’t they, Candy?”

“Yes!” my daughter squealed as I sucked on her clit. “Oh, yes, yes!”

My wife rubbed her large tits into my naked ass, her nipples hard points against my meaty rump. I let my wife have her fun as I nibbled on our daughter’s clit. Virgin juices soaked my chin as Candy squirmed. Her breasts jiggled in her tank top.

I growled, “Take off that top. Let me see those cute tits!”

“Yes!” Candy sat up, ripped off her tank top, and then fell back down onto her pillows. Her cute boobies bounced and jiggled.

She squirmed, those tits shaking with their teenage perkiness. I stared up at them, loving the white triangles centered over her pink nipple. The outline from the dainty bikini top that hugged those succulent breasts when she sunbathed.

I licked harder at her pussy. She gasped out in delight as she squirmed. She ground her cunt against my mouth. I groaned, reveling in eating out her twat. I slid my tongue up and down her folds, brushing her clit over and over.

“That’s it,” cooed my wife as she massaged her tits into my ass. “Make our daughter cum like you made me!”

“Then make me into a woman!” Candy howled. “Oh, Daddy, yes, yes, I want your cock in me!”

“Me, too,” I growled.

“Yes, yes, do it, honey!” panted my wife, her breasts rubbing across my back. “Make our sweet and sexy daughter into a woman!”

I sucked hard on my daughter’s clit. I swirled my tongue around her bud. I loved her. I gave my daughter my all. My wife pulled her breasts away. Then she rubbed her hot cunt on my ass, her fingernails scratching at my back.

Candy groaned. She shuddered, her teenage boobies jiggling. Then she gasped out in delight. She flooded my mouth like her mother would when climaxing. Juice gushed out of her. I feasted on her. Devoured the virginal cream spilling from my daughter’s cunt.

“Daddy!” she howled.

“Oh, yes, yes, that’s it!” my wife moaned, grinding her hot cunt on my ass. “Lick up our daughter’s juices then fuck her! Pop her cherry!”

“Do it, Daddy!” Candy moaned.

My wife slid along her side and settled herself beside our daughter. They two women kissed. Mother and daughter moaned in wanton delight. I shuddered, lifting my head from my daughter’s pussy to watch their tongues dancing. My wife cupped Candy’s tit.

Candy’s hand slid down my wife’s stomach to slide between her legs. Had they already had sex? Shit.

Dick throbbing, I rose. I brought my cock to my daughter’s virgin pussy. I pressed into her folds as I loomed over her. She broke the kiss with her mother. My wife ducked her head down, sucking one of Candy’s pink nipples into her mouth.

“I’m so ready for you, Daddy,” Candy whimpered. “I’ve been ready for two years.”

“Sorry,” I groaned. “I was raised to think this was wrong. But it’s not.”

“No!” she moaned as my cock pressed on her hymen. “Do it, Daddy!”

My wife sucked on our daughter’s nipple while Candy fingered Rachel’s pussy. My two women were both moaning, groaning. I felt the maidenhead against the tip of my cock. I just had to thrust, and I would tear through my daughter’s virginity.

So I thrust.

I rammed my cock forward. I ripped through her hymen and buried to the hilt in her. She gasped. Her eyes bulged as she felt me all the way in her. Her tight, deflowered cunt squeezed around me. I groaned out my joy.

“Daddy!” she gasped, her thighs wrapping about my waist. “You’re in me.”

Rachel’s mouth popped off my daughter’s nipple. “Where he belongs. In one of us.”

“Yes!” Candy purred.

My wife leaned up and kissed her on the mouth. Their tongues danced and dueled. Candy’s pussy squeezed about my cock. She held me tight as I drew back my hips. I groaned at the wonderful pleasure surging down my dick to my aching balls.

I thrust forward. I slammed my cock hard into my daughter’s juicy pussy. She moaned into the kiss with her mother. Her cunt squeezed about me. That silky, incestuous sheath massaged my dick. It was incredible to be in her.

My balls, full of my fertile seed, smacked into her taint every time I buried back into my little girl. Her teenage pussy squeezed around my dick. She held me tight. She gripped me with passion. I groaned, loving every second of burying into her cunt. Of plowing into her amazing snatch.

Her hips stirred from right to left. Her cunt slid around my cock. I groaned with my every thrust into her pussy. With my every plunge. It was an incredible delight to experience. I panted, my heart hammering in my chest as I buried into her again and again.

“Candy!” I groaned.

She broke the kiss with her mother to smile up at me. “Oh, Daddy, I love you so much!”

“Yes, yes,” Rachel moaned, squirming as our daughter fingered her pussy. “This is as beautiful as Dr. Elliston said it would be. We’re loving our little girl.”

“We fucking are!” I panted, thrusting hard into my daughter. I leaned down onto my left elbow. Then I pressed my weight on my daughter. She grinned. Her left arm, the right busy with her mother, threw around my neck.

She kissed me.

My wife joined me.

Her soft boobs pressed into my side as we shared our three-way kiss. I pumped away at our daughter’s pussy. I drove my cock into her over and over again. The incestuous pleasure surged through me. It was intense. Amazing. It was a wonderful experience to enjoy. I groaned, driving my dick deep and hard into my daughter.

I fucked her with passion. With enthusiasm. I plunged my cock into her again and again. I reveled in every hard thrust and plunge of my dick into her silky cunt while our three tongues and lips worked together.

Loved each other.

“Daddy! Mommy!”

“I know,” Rachel cooed. “He feels so good in you.”

“So good!” My daughter squirmed. “I’m going to cum on his cock!”

“Good!” I grunted. “That’s what I want to feel. I want you to be a good girl and milk my cock dry.”

“Yes, Daddy!” She grinned up at me. “Every last drop! I’ll empty your balls.”

“Good,” I growled, thrusting with more and more passion into her cunt. I hammered her with powerful thrusts, reveling in the feel of her cunt squeezing around me. That delicious snatch massaged me. Brought me closer and closer to the edge of cumming in her.

“Daddy!” she moaned. “Oh, Daddy, yes!” Her pussy clamped down on me. “That’s so good. Oh, Daddy, I’m going to cum so hard on your dick.”

“Good,” I panted, driving my dick to the hilt in her. “I want to feel that happening. I want your twat just writhing around me.”

“It will be, Daddy!”

I thrust harder. My balls, smacking into my daughter’s taint, brimmed with cum. They grew heavier and heavier. The sweet heaven of my daughter’s cunt gripped me. I never wanted this to end. I wanted to erupt in her. I wanted to spurt so much jizz into her. Just unload all the spunk I could into her delicious snatch.

I would baste her. Flood her. She would be dripping with so much cum. It would be incredible. I groaned, pumping away fast and hard. I buried into my daughter’s snatch. I plundered her cunt with powerful strokes, burying into her over and over again.

She squeezed her pussy down around my dick. Her moans echoed through the room. She squirmed beneath me, her teenage titties rubbing in my chest. She kissed at my chin, smooching as I drove my cock into her.

“Cum on your daddy!” Rachel moaned, squirming beside us. “This is so hot. Cum on your daddy’s cock!”

“Yes!” Candy howled.

She came.

Her pussy spasmed and writhed around my dick. I groaned as I drove into her depths. Her pussy engulfed me in spasming delight. My balls smacked into her taint. The rapture surged down to my balls.

They erupted.

“Candy!”

“Daddy’s cumming in me!” howled my daughter.

“Yes!” my wife moaned and trembled beside us.

Ecstasy slammed through my body. Incestuous joy at finally spilling my cum in my daughter’s pussy consumed me. I growled through every blast and eruption of spunk I spurted into my little girl’s writhing pussy.

Her cunt massaged my cock. Rippled around me. I groaned while my wife panted. All three of us cried out as we shared the beauty of this moment. I felt so close to Rachel and Candy as I erupted into my daughter again and again.

“Yes!” I howled my triumph.

“Daddy!”

“Beautiful!” panted my wife.

As I spilled the last of my cum into my daughter’s depths, I knew that I would do everything to make sure that Clint was acquitted. I would find him and his family not guilty. There was nothing wrong with this at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cruzita Martínez – July 19th, 2027

“There are reasons that incest is illegal,” Ed Thomas said as he stood tall and proud, looking almost presidential instead of the lead prosecutor on the case. It was the opening of the trial. The galley was packed with spectators, mostly reporters. The judge had even granted them permission to film.

This was being broadcast live across the internet.

“It’s a violation of nature. It harms those that it touches. Twists them. Warps them. Abuses them.” His voice had a deliberation to it. A cadence that resonated through the courtroom. I sat at the table, nervous, watching the jurors.

Number 17, Jonette Walsh, nodded along with enthusiasm. The Black woman looked like she was on a crusade. That she was here to avenge every wrong in the world. I glanced down at my notes. Mother of two. Social worker. Her children were young, just out of high school. Neighbors said she wouldn’t talk about the son who’d disappeared a year ago. Daughter moved out the moment she graduated high school.

She fumed all the time now. Furious, though no one interviewed knew about what.

“It’s emotional violence enacted on those closest to you,” Ed continued.

My stomach roiled at Ed’s words. My daughter wasn’t twisted or warped. I wasn’t, either.

“It leaves their souls bloody. Wounds that might never heal.”

My daughter didn’t have a bloody soul. It was so hard not to say anything. I had to play my role. If Ed had even a hint that I was working against him, I would be screwed. So far, I hadn’t been exposed. The massage parlor’s records didn’t show that I had ever visited there. They had two sets of books and destroyed their original one, leaving an innocuous one in its place.

“And then there’s the risk of inbreeding,” Ed continued, striding back and forth. “Bringing in generations of children that have congenital birth defects. It compounds problems. It brings out the flaws in the human genome. Amplifies them. It’s no different from certain breeds of dogs who have been interbred so much with their bloodlines that they have all manner of issues. Hip displacements. Heart problems. Vision problems. It’s no different with humans.

“Incest is a crime. A terrible blight.”

Juror twelve, Elmer Bennett, all but glared at Ed. He hated what the man was selling. A fireman, married and with a daughter near adult age, he despised the words. He must have feelings for his daughter. Maybe even sleeping with her.

I smiled for a moment. That was a treat. I was glad he had that joy of sleeping with her.

“This is why we have made incest illegal! To protect ourselves from the worst parts of our impulses. From sexual deviancy that maims and scars the soul. From bringing in the next generation of children weaker than we are. It’s a crime that is written in our blood. We all know it’s wrong.”

Number twenty-one, Delilah Midgley, a divorced mother of one who lived alone, looked shaken. She was clasping hands, her breathing appearing ragged. Neighbors and coworkers said she was estranged from her son.

What had happened between them?

The other jurors were shifting in seats. They had a mix of faces, studious, bored, approving, frowning. It was hard to read them. None of them gave as strong reactions as Walsh, Bennett, and Midgley. The case would hang on those three. I was certain of it.

“That is why we are here today. Clinton Elliston and his family have violated it all. He has had sexual relations with his mother. His aunt. Every one of his sisters and half-sisters. They have all had his children. They have a reckless disregard for the pain they are inflicting on each other as well as the potential harm they are spreading to their offspring. For that reason, the State of California is going to prove that they need to be separated through incarceration for their own good. Their children must be taken from them so they are not equally damaged around a man who so lusts for sexual perversion, that he will prey upon them next. Thank you.”

I glanced over at Clint and his family. They sat together behind the defense table, which was occupied by their large legal team. More of their lawyers sat around them, taking notes. Clint’s head was raised. He sat proud between his two sister-wives. They all did. They were not ashamed one bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elisabet Reenburg

I rose to do my opening statement. “The State wants to paint Clint and his family as sexual perverts. Degenerates who have so twisted and bent each other, that they are monsters. But there is a philosophy called Ethical Hedonism.”

I paused, glancing at the jury. Bennett nodded enthusiasm. Midgley looked up at that, her brow tightening. Walsh scowled, like that was the most deadly thing she’d ever heard of. Others gave me curious or bored looks.

“Ladies and gentleman of the jury,” I said. “I am here to show you that my clients are not immoral monsters. Hedonism is an ancient philosophy first promoted by Aristippus of Cyrene, a contemporary of Socrates. He believed that there were only two states in this world, pleasure and suffering. And, therefore, it is moral to seek out pleasure. Ethical Hedonism believes in finding that pleasure, whether through consensual sex or other activities that bring joy and happiness and bliss. There are even Christian Hedonists who believe that by joy in God’s creation it gives the Creator glory.

“Clint isn’t a pervert. There is nothing disgusting with wanting to live a life that has as little suffering as possible. That maximizes pleasure. It is what we all want. He doesn’t hurt those in his life. He doesn’t violate them. Doesn’t take advantage of them. He loves them.” I paused again, sweeping my gaze across the jury. “We all want love. To give it to those we care for. To receive it back in turn. Especially romantic love.

“Once upon a time, humans used to think love between members of different races, miscegenation, was illegal. In this very country, many states made it illegal to marry someone of another race. To deny them the love and pleasure that they crave. It was wrong.

“We corrected that mistake.

“After that, we still thought it was wrong for two men to be together. That two women in love were disgusting. But we have recognized that injustice, haven’t we? Now gay marriage is not only accepted, it’s lauded. It’s praised. We all know gay couples who have found each other even if thirty years ago, twenty years ago, even a decade ago, many of us thought it was wrong.

“We evolved.”

I paused again, Emmett nodding. Midgley stared at me with this look of desperate hope. Walsh scowled. What to do about her?

“If love is consensual, there are no dangers in incest. It doesn’t warp the soul. It doesn’t twist and do violence to another. It’s no different from other forms of love. Miscegenation. Homosexuality. Not once will the State ever be able to prove that Clint or one of the women of his family forced another into sex. No rape. No coercion or threats. It was all consensual. Passion that they all found for each other as they embraced Ethical Hedonism.

“So what is the other problem with incest? Interbreeding? Well, that takes generations for the problems to compound. We have modern birth control methods. We can test parents to see if they have the chance of passing on harmful traits, which can happen to any couple. Unless you think every poor child born with a birth defect came from incest?

“The risks are greatly exaggerated. Human history is replete with it. Most marriages in our history were between cousins. Marrying outside of the small group of people in your community is a modern phenomenon. So what is the harm in allowing those who love each other to share that ultimate expression of their feelings?

“Consensual, beautiful love-making. That doesn’t make them monsters for wanting to share that with each other. Doesn’t make their acts harmful. Doesn’t make them bad parents, terrible siblings, horrible children. It makes them people no different from you or me.”

Midgley stared at me with tears in her eyes. She nodded her head, hands clutched tight. Those were words she needed to hear. I wanted to glance at Pam and flash her a thumbs up. She had helped me craft this speech.

“We have all had wrong thoughts. We have all evolved. Anti-miscegenation and anti-homosexuality laws were once the norms. Now look at where we are. But we can go further. We can show the world the tyranny of anti-incest laws by finding my clients innocent. Support unfettered love. Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pam Elliston

I sat in my seat beside Clint, trying hard to keep up my poise as the first day of the trial dragged on. The first witness had been called by the prosecution, Detective Nelson Tucker. He looked sharp and imposing in his suit, not the rumpled and tired man who’d arrested us. No five o’clock shadow. No bags under his eyes. No rumpled clothing.

His stout form looked authoritative. His years gave weight to his words.

The prosecutor, Ed Thomas, stood at a lectern between the prosecutor’s desk and ours, staring down at his notes periodically as he asked the detective simple questions, allowing the man to talk about the investigation. How he had spied on us since last Christmas, interviewed people in our lives, lied about the purpose of it as he sought to find the evidence of our guilt. Ultimately, it had led to the two undercover officers moving in across the street.

I had so badly misread them.

No, I hadn’t misread Isaac and Catherine. They were a real brother and sister. They had real feelings for each other buried inside of them. Feelings I was certain I’d brought to the fore and they had acted on.

“After we arrested the defendants, we searched their home. In there, we found all manner of sexual items.”

“What type?” Ed Thomas asked.

“Dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, BDSM gear.”

“What does that mean? BDSM gear?”

“Whips. Paddles. Handcuffs. Other bondage items. Things I had never even heard of. They had so many of them. They could have opened their own sex shop.”

I leaned forward and whispered, “Elisabet.”

She turned, her blonde hair sweeping about her shoulders to stare back at me.

“Ask him if he saw any sign of abuse of our children. Ask him where he found the sex toys and where the children played and lived.”

Elisabet nodded, jotting down notes.

Ed went over his questions, reiterating all the stuff I’d now learned about the State’s probe into our lives. It all had to be shared with us as part of discovery. We had petitioned for a swift trial. It meant we didn’t have as much time to prepare, though we’d been preparing for this eventuality for years. The reality was here.

And Walsh hated us.

I glanced at the jurors. I could work with the rest of them. Bennett and Midgley were both good supporters. My suggestion to Elisabet’s opening had resonated with the woman. She thought of herself as a monster. She had done something with her son and it had horrified her. She had rejected him out of hatred of herself.

I wanted to have her in my office to help her so badly. Therapy through a trial, however, was a novel idea.

Elisabet Reenburg rose and marched to the lectern. She looked gorgeous as always, wearing a business skirt of dark gray and a mauve blouse, a diamond necklace gleaming. The men on the jury all perked up at the sight of her again, smiles on their lips. Especially Boon, an older man with balding, white hair.

He had the look of a man with granddaughters he’d love to be closer to.

“Detective Nelson, is it true that you found all the sex toys in House Number Three?” Elisabet asked. On cross-examination, she could ask leading questions, something the prosecutor couldn’t do on his direct examination.

Detective Tucker studied her. “Yes.”

“And is it true that none of the children’s rooms were found in House Number Three, but were spread out between House Number Two and Number One?”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“So outside of the adults’ bedrooms in House Number One and Two, was there any sign of sexual activity found in the ‘public’ areas of the two houses, the yard, and the childrens’ bedrooms? Any forensic reports? Any sex toys?”

“No.” He swallowed.

“So you found no sign of any sexual abuse of the children at all?”

“No sign.”

“And that the children were kept away from the ‘adult’ activities.”

“It appears so.”

“Would you say that the Ellistons took great care to keep their children from seeing their love-making, like any responsible parents would do?”

“I don’t know?”

“You don’t know?” Her tone grew harder. “You just said that there was no sign of the children being in House Number Three where the sex toys were found. That sounds responsible to me. Doesn’t it to you?”

He glowered at her.

“Your honor, can you instruct the witness to answer?” Elisabet asked.

Judge Coburn glanced at the detective. “Answer the question.”

“I suppose it does,” he muttered.

I smiled.

She finished up her questions after another twenty minutes, attacking various methodologies of the investigation, but it wasn’t the important stuff. Clarifying that we didn’t abuse our children was important to get the jury on our side. Especially Walsh.

Detective Sunny Savage came up next. The young woman looked sharp in her light-gray pantsuit and blue blouse. She sat poised, going over many of the same topics as her partner had. However, when asked if she had seen any signs of abuse by Ed Thomas, her answer annoyed me.

“Only BDSM paraphernalia,” she answered.

“What does that mean?” Thomas asked.

“House Three was full of all manner of painful items. Items designed to hurt. Whips. Flails. Vampire gloves, which have little needles on them. Bondage gear to hold someone in terrible positions for hours.”

I leaned forward. “Hit her on BDSM,” I whispered to Elisabet. “Ask her if it’s wrong to consensually participate in those activities.”

Soon, Elisabet started her cross-examination. She asked many of the same questions as she had of Detective Tucker. Then she went in for my suggestion, asking, “You implied that BDSM is abuse. Is that something you believe?”

“I do?”

“And yet BDSM is practiced by consenting adults across the United States. Are they wrong for doing that?”

Sunny’s brow narrowed. “I don’t understand the question.”

“You don’t?” Elisabet asked, a note of incredulity in her voice as if Sunny was an idiot. “Are normal Americans who indulge in BDSM wrong for doing something consensual? Something legal?”

“Well, they’re not wrong, but—”

“And is there any sign that Clint actually abused the women in his family who enjoy being bound?”

“There’s not any—”

“That he hurt any of them by spanking them?”

“Not that I saw.”

“Do you enjoy being spanked by a romantic partner?”

“Objection,” Ed Thomas barked. “This isn’t relevant.”

“Detective Savage claims that BDSM is an unhealthy activity, but it is one that millions of people both read about in romance novels and watch in record-breaking movies,” Elisabet said. “We have to know if she’s being honest or merely maligning my clients for their healthy and legal sexual activities.”

“Nothing they do together is legal,” Thomas snapped back.

“Overruled,” the judge said. “The witness brought it up in her direct, Mrs. Reenburg can question her about it.”

Savage’s cheeks blazed. “I… I… Yes. A few times.”

“So even you don’t think BDSM is wrong. Were you lying to harm my clients?”

“I… misspoke,” she said, squirming.

“So there’s nothing wrong with people expressing their love in a variety of consensual ways, like spanking or bondage?”

“No.”

Several women on the jury, including jurors three and sixteen, gave little nods. They had read those novels, might even have had experimented with their husbands with some light spanking or handcuffs in the bedroom.

Perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isaac Nicholson

It was hard not to reveal my feelings for my sister as I had to testify on my part of the investigation. The dinner at the Ellistons, watching Clint have sex with his older sister Zoey, then “reviewing” the video Pam Elliston had given my little sister.

“It was quite graphic sex on the DVD,” I said, my dick throbbing hard. My sister was in the courtroom. She’d have to tell these same words. Relive our first night of fiery passion. I had to keep it out of my voice. My face. I wanted her so badly right now. “Clint had sex with several of his sisters in a variety of roleplaying scenarios.”

It had been incredible to watch that video. The gateway into my own incestuous passion. And here I was, hiding it. Concealing it from the world and being a hypocrite. I had to leave it out. For our own protection. We couldn’t survive this scrutiny. Clint was going to jail.

What a pity.

“Your witness,” Ed Thomas finally said.

My stomach roiled as the beautiful Elisabet Reenburg stood up. She had intimated that she knew of the illicit relationship my sister and I had. Did she have any evidence of it? I would have to lie. Perjure myself to protect Cat.

That made me squirm.

“Did Zoey object to having sex with Clint?”

“No,” I said, clear, easy question.

“Did she enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

“And on the tape, Did either Alicia or Zoey appear coerced to have sexual relationships with Clint?”

“No. They appeared quite willing participants.” I shouldn’t have added that last part. I wasn’t on Clint’s side.

I wanted to be, though.

“And they enjoyed themselves?”

“Greatly.”

“Do you think it’s wrong for a brother and sister to have sex?”

I hesitated. My cheeks blazed. Memories of my sister burned in my thoughts. How she looked naked. How her face twisted as she climaxed on my cock. The taste of her pussy. The passion of her cries. How she felt when I was in her. Fucking her.

Catherine watched me. I swallowed. How should I answer this? Everyone was staring at me. “No.”
The jury murmured. The watching reporters snapped photos. My heart hammered in my chest. Why did I say that? I stared at my sister as she sat in the crowd, wearing her dress blue uniform like I was, ready to take the stand and testify all the same things that I had.

She gave a slight nod. Supportive.

“No?” Mrs. Reenburg asked. She sounded surprised. “You don’t see anything wrong with a brother and sister having sex?”

“If it’s consensual,” I said, squirming. My hand gripped my hat. What was I doing? I was helping Clint. I was risking myself. My career. My freedom. My sister’s!

I glanced at Mrs. Reenburg. The blonde and mature beauty stood at the lectern, hands gripping it. The jury stared at me. Here it came. She would ask the question that I would have to deny. Take the fifth. My heart hammered in my chest.

Instead, she moved on to other questions that had me admit that I saw no signs of abuse. I didn’t get it. She could have destroyed me. Why hadn’t she? I was shaken as I stepped down. I slumped into the seat and watched as my sister took the stand, who was first asked the same questions by Cruzita Martínez on direct. Then came Mrs. Reenburg’s cross. She asked the same questions, too.

“I think incest, if it’s consensual, is fine,” my sister said, her cheeks blazing. “If there’s no abuse, what’s the harm?”

Sweat dripped down the back of my neck. Soon, my sister was dismissed. She didn’t sit beside me. That would be too obvious, but I wanted to grab her hands as the day’s testimony was finished out with a forensic expert introducing the DVD into evidence and authenticating where it came from and what it showed. It was all technical, boring.

What would people think of our confessions?

“We are recessed until 9 am tomorrow,” the judge announced and rose.

Everyone followed.

My sister slipped up beside me in the press to leave the courtroom. My heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t believe what we did. My friend, Detective Tucker, gave me such a dirty look. I could tell he wanted to punch me in the face. He knew I’d sandbagged the jury.

Then he looked at my sister and his lip curled.

“I need you,” hissed Catherine, her voice almost lost to the turmoil. “Right here. Third-floor bathroom. I want you to pound me.”

“Yes,” I groaned, hoarse, addicted. We would be investigated now. I could feel it. We all but admitted we were having sex with each other. I rubbed sweaty hands on my pants. But we had done the right thing. Clint was a good man. If he had done something wrong with his sisters, it meant I did something wrong with Catherine.

I loved her. How could that be wrong?

“Officers!” a sharp voice snapped behind us.

I stiffened. Cruzita Martínez. I turned to see the Latina prosecutor striding up in her maroon pencil skirt and rose-hue blouse. Her black hair swirled around her face twisted with passionate anger. The gold, hoop earrings she wore swayed.

“Follow me!” she hissed. “We have to talk about your testimony.”

I swallowed, feeling Ed Thomas glaring daggers at us as he stuffed items into his briefcase.

My sister and I followed Cruzita out of the courtroom and through the halls. Several reporters called our names, their questions lost to the wild pounding of hot blood through my ears. This was it. Cruzita would tell us that we were under investigation. Try to find out if we were committing incest.

She had her office on the fifth floor. It was a good size one. She had risen high in the Yolo County DA’s. She had a desk strewn with briefs, bookshelves holding sage legal tones, Venetian blinds drawn close. She shut the door behind her.

Locked it.

“I’m supposed to yell at you two,” Cruzita said, her tone now a sultry purr, “but you two need to fuck.”

“What?” I gasped.

“That’s disgusting,” my sister spat out. “We don’t need to do that.”

“It’s okay, officers,” she said and began unbuttoning her blouse. “I need to masturbate. I want to watch you two fuck. Mmm, incest is so hot, isn’t it? I know you two are lovers. Let me see how sexy you are. Make love to your sister, Isaac. Make her cum hard bent over my desk.”

To be continued…

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