Chapter 5: Watching the Incestuous Video

Kurt Martin

People all smiled at me as I walked down the street. They all wanted to make me happy.

It made no fucking sense. The world changed, and somehow I became the center of it all. It resolved around me. Everything had changed. They all moved around almost like drones. They worked together. No one got mad at each other.

Traffic flowed neatly through the streets. Everyone stopped at the lights or other traffic controls. No one sped. No horns honked in anger. Cut anyone off. Same with the pedestrian traffic. People went about their lives with such efficiency.

The homeless were gone. The tent city near my apartment had vanished. The garbage that used to litter the alleys had vanished. The fact that two strange women fucked me in the employee lounge of a supermarket, arranged by the manager so I could have privacy, was amazing.

Were there no limits to what I could do?

It wasn’t telepathy. Just this eagerness to make me happy.

I shifted the grocery bags I was carrying. They were getting heavy. A man was striding up to me. He wore a big smile and greeted me. Something inane as he slid to the side to get out of my way. This was all so weird.

“You want to make me happy?” I asked him. He was about my age. Late thirties, early forties.

“Of course,” he said. “Is there something you need, sir?”

Sir ... so polite.

“Yeah, can you carry my bags?” I said, thrusting them at me. “That would make me happy.”

“Absolutely!” He took them, still beaming at me. “It’s my pleasure to bring you joy, sir. Whatever you need.”

I nodded absently. “Why do you want to make me happy?”

“The Greater Good is served through unity,” he said. “Unity ensures harmony, which ensures happiness. So for the Greater Good to be achieved, almost be happy. Are you happy right now?”

There was something almost desperate in his voice as he asked me that.

“I am,” I said. “Very happy.”

“That’s wonderful,” he said as he walked. He shifted the bags from hand to hand. The weight must be biting into his hands.

“Is that too heavy for you?” I asked.

“No, no,” he said. “I can handle it with ease, sir.” He smiled at me. “Don’t you worry. If I needed help with my burden, someone would help me.”

Another man was approaching us. He also smiled at me. “You,” I said, “take one of the bags. That would make me happy.”

“Of course!” the man said and rushed up, taking a bag and falling into step with the other one. “Thank you for picking me, sir! I can feel the unity.”

Both men nodded together. In fact, other people on the street were also nodding like they felt how happy I was. That was insane. I glanced around the street, spotting some women. I could have them fuck me right here on the street, but...

So many people would be watching.

“Why is unity so important?” I asked. “I mean, what changed. Everyone acts so differently.”

“By different, you mean harmonious, sir?” the first man asked.

“That we are all happy by being united?” the second one asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Everyone’s so friendly. The world’s so ordered.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” both said together.

“We are in harmony,” a woman said as she walked past me, pushing a stroller. “Everyone is happy.”

I stared back at her. How did she know how to answer it? This was so creepy.

“Yeah, but before, you wouldn’t have carried my bags, right?” I asked. “I’m just a stranger.”

“You’re him,” said the first man.

Him? “What does that mean?”

“That we have to make you happy since you lack unity,” said the second. “Don’t you want to be happy?”

“Yeah,” I said. “A lot. I really want to be happy.” We were approaching my building. “But don’t you want to be happy? I mean, you’re carrying my bags.”

“That makes me very happy,” they both said together with the same intonation.

I shivered at their words. It was so robotic. So absent of any sense of self. It made my skin crawl. There was something so very, very wrong about it. I glanced back at them, but they were both looking so happy.

“You truly are happy?” I asked.

“Through Unity is Harmony. Through Harmony is Happiness.” They both spoke together. “We are United, Harmonious, and Happy. So is the entire world.”

“The entire world?” I asked as we reached my apartment complex. My landlord—a fucking asshole slumlord before—opened the door for me. “That’s insane. How did that happen?”

“Unity,” they both said as we headed to the elevator.

Another person was standing by the elevator with their arm in it to keep the door open. He smiled at me as I approached. I reached it, and the two men went to join me. I didn’t want that. They were so weird. I just held out my hands.

“I got it from here,” I said. “That would make me happy to go up alone.”

“Of course,” the two men said together. They thrust out their hands. One had a wedding ring. I had an impulse to say something, but I held back. This was all so strange. What did it mean that everyone wanted to make me happy?

The tenant holding the door open pulled his arm away. The door whisked closed. I hit my floor. I was glad the elevator worked. I was eager to get back to my apartment and watch some of that incestuous porn the phone mentioned.

My cock was hard as my phone beeped. It was a notification from PornHub that two more incestuous films, both father-daughter films, had just been added. How exciting. The elevator reached my floor.

I walked down it, and the door to my apartment opened. A naked Liz Salazar was there. The landlord’s nubile daughter. Once a brat, she had been my live-in bang-maid, I supposed. She cooked for me and did whatever I wanted.

She was ready with a beer for me, her eighteen-year-old tits on display. She was a nubile Hispanic slut with large tits. She was short but curvy, with a spicy look in her eyes. I took the beer, and she took the bags with a smile.

“Welcome home, Sir,” she purred as she rushed to the kitchen to put away the materials. “Thank you for going shopping, Sir. I hope you enjoyed Aurora and Chantelle.”

I paused. “You know about that?”

She smiled. “We are united. Of course I know. They were so happy to serve you, just like we all are.”

“Damn,” I muttered as I sipped at my beer. I headed to the TV and sat on my recliner. I turned on the TV and went to PornHub.

There was a list of the new Incest Movies. “Daddy Help Me Pop My Cherry,” caught my attention out of them all, though it was hot that these existed.

“That’s why there is incest porn?” I asked. “Because everyone wants to make me happy.”

“Of course,” said Liz as she came back into the living room. Her large breasts swayed. “That’s the sort of porn you want to watch.”

“Yeah,” I said and turned on the video.

There was a man sipping his coffee. He had the paper before him. I frowned at the headline, “World Peace Has Arrived. The End of War.” I was so interested in reading the text. I could make out that there was a conference of world leaders to...

Dissolve all governments.

“Daddy!” a girl squealed.

The father lowered his paper. He was a tall man with brown hair and glasses. His daughter had long, sandy-blonde hair that flowed past her. She was in a nightie. It appeared to be breakfast. She was a cute thing.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” her father said as she hopped into his lap and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. It was a good production. Multiple camera angles. It made me so hard. They were going to fuck, yet it looked so wholesome.

This was all because of me.

“Damn,” I groaned as I pulled out my cock.

“Would you be happy if I suckled on your dick?” Liz asked. “Or would you like to masturbate while you watch?”

“You can suck my cock,” I said, the daughter still bouncing on her father’s lap.

Liz knelt before me and gripped my cock. I just let her lean over and engulf my cock. She suckled on me. Not with much passion. No, no, she was letting me enjoy the sight on the screen. This wasn’t about making me cum right away.

She understood I wanted to watch and enjoy this video.

“Daddy,” the cutie purred. Her sandy-blonde hair flowed down her back. “There’s something I was wondering if you could help me with.”

“Oh?” her father asked.

She climbed off his lap and ripped off her nightie.

“Charlotte!” he gasped in shock as his daughter stood there naked. “What are you doing?”

“Well, Mommy said that you were the only one who could help me with this problem,” Charlotte said.

“Your mother!” he gasped in a strangled groan. “Why would she tell you to get naked?”

My ex-wife would never do that for me. She had divorced me to fuck my Black boss. She took our girls. Turned them against me. My cock lurched in Liz’s mouth. She suckled softly on me, pleasure spilling down my shaft.

“Because I need help with my cherry,” said Charlotte. The cameraman got a closeup on her pussy. She was shaved, her eighteen-year-old slid tight. She had small breasts. A petite thing. I groaned at how fresh and young she looked. “See. I’m eighteen, and I still have a hymen. The other girls at school don’t have one.”

Her father was trying not to look, but he kept glancing. Then there was a shot of a woman in a bathrobe—obliviously the mother with her blonde hair and curvy figure—watching from the doorway. That had my cock throbbing hard in Liz’s mouth.

“She said you could pop my cherry,” said Charlotte as she hopped onto the table before her father. “Would you do that for me, Daddy? Pretty please.”

“Your mother?” the father said, his voice so tight. “Why would she say that? Do you know how a man pops a girl’s cherry?”

Charlotte shook her head.

“It’s not something a father should do for his daughter,” he said as he stared at his little girl’s pussy before him.

“Fuck, this is hot,” I groaned, savoring Liz’s mouth sliding up and down my dick.

She squealed around my cock and suckled harder. I groaned, the pleasure shooting to the tip of my dick as I watched the incestuous porn produced for me. It was so wild that this much effort would be put into making just me happy.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “I really, really want to have you pop my cherry, Daddy! Mommy said you’d be the best at it. You popped her cherry.”