Chapter 8

Three months later...

“Then, by the power vested in me by the Republic of Texas, I now pronounce you man and wives. You may kiss the brides,” the officiator made me a formal polygamist, married to Mom as well as Aunt Rite.

Of course, by now, both were already pregnant, as were Erica, Sandy, Nicole, Samantha, Tricia, and Moriah. I was still very much engaged in trying to breed the rest of them, of course. They all also had tattoos on their naked flesh (well, nude except on occasions such as this wedding). All of my concubines had collars on their necks as well, proper reminders of their new legal status as my official sluts, as did my catamite/cousin Mason. I made them wear butt-plugs and get regular enemas to clean out for sodomy, too. I sometimes even attached leashes to the collars and walked them out in public, depending on my mood.

The ink took the form of tramp stamps with the simple word “fuckmeat” spelled out in cursive on each concubine, both wives, and Mason, as well as bosom tattoos of my first and last name. I wanted it obvious to all and sundry that these were my harem and that I would only share them on my terms, no one else’s. If you wanted some action with my cumsluts, you needed to consult me as well as them. Mom and Aunt Rite also took turns acting as my driver, including for dates with each other and the rest of my companions. I often compensated them with special treats, such as rimjobs once I confirmed their proper anal hygiene.

Naturally, they took turns showering with me, but they always had a bathing partner or two. Nobody slept alone, either. Everyone always shared a bed with at least one other person, if not more. Now that we shared a much larger house, having sold the old ones, it was even easier to arrange for us, of course. There was a vanity between my bathroom and that of the next bedroom, which hosted whichever two or three members of my harem I felt deserved it.

As I kissed both Mom and Aunt Rite on the lips, they also made out with each other in front of the witnesses. Mason, who acted as my best man, was about the only guy in the room not aroused by that Sapphic kiss. Technically, they were sister-wives, not married to each other, just to me, but we all knew that they were intimate as well. We also knew that Mom was eager to get Aunt Marguerite’s strap-on dildo inside her holes while I plowed the other one on our wedding night. We would definitely have a threesome in the marriage bed.

The officiator looked at me as if hoping for a turn with one of my playthings. I nodded and tapped Trish, my ex-girlfriend, as well as Moriah, my first cousin who was also Mason’s sister. I wasn’t about to let any of the ladies that I still needed to breed get fucked by this guy. I wanted to be the source of every baby bump in the house. The officiator could borrow two of my already pregnant girls, not the others.

“Where should I fuck them?” the man asked me while his wife laughed.

“Just somewhere in the open where I can watch. I might be too pregnant to do more than that, but I want to see my hubby make me proud. Do ‘em right, Steve. I know that you can!” his missus teased him.

“You should know, sis. Yeah, we’re fraternal twins as well as man and wife. You can rim them if you wish. I’m pretty sure that their asses stay clean, knowing this fella,” the officiator replied with a smirk, quite proud of being married to his own sister.

Well, the incest laws took a nice, long tumble ever since technology enabled impressive genetic resequencing. The Republic of Texas quickly took notice, which told me that many in Congress harbored secret desires for their own kith and kin. I couldn’t blame them for that, though perhaps for their prior hypocrisy in keeping those statutes prior to this. We were at least more advanced and enlightened than the United Carolinas, which still insisted upon “Biblical, Christian monogamy.”

What a fucking joke! Someone should have actually picked up a Bible, particularly the fucking Old Testament, right? Only by convenient pretense that only the New Testament mattered could the likes of Reverend Alistair Shields pontificate about “old-time religion” and “old-fashioned morality.” I personally despised Christianity and religion in most forms, seeing them as barriers to human progress and growth. What good was an ancient death cult which celebrated violence and condemned sexuality, anyway?

I was very glad that my own mother and auntie were pregnant by me, as were a number of my sisters and cousins. More were about to be knocked up by yours truly, too, and I fully planned to be the sole father of any such brats in the house. Other men could borrow my playthings at times, but I had no intention of allowing them to impregnate my ladies. They would only get to screw already pregnant girls with my permission.

Breeding ladies was more fun than one could imagine. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the deliberate act of raw dogging women with the purpose of putting buns in their ovens. I had spent three hours the night before, with plenty of breaks, of course, in bed with Missy and Wendy, seeking to impregnate those lovely ladies. I alternated cumming inside Missy on one turn, then in Wendy, and then back and forth, during that sexual marathon session, glad for my youth and vitality that enabled me to keep up that pace.

I tended to prefer to try to breed the women in pairs, if possible. That was why I had an even number, eight, of ladies already knocked up by yours truly. For example, Mom and Aunt Rite had both been bred almost simultaneously and were three months along now. At least they weren’t so far gone that I couldn’t consummate my marriage to them. For now, though, I slid my cock inside Katie and Alicia to begin pumping and humping them in turns.