Chapter 16: Incestuous Passions Arrested

April 11th, 2027 – Isaac Nicholson

Catherine dragged me down the hallway. We were both in our uniforms, blue pants and shirts, gun belts on. We’d just left the DA’s office. We were in the Yolo County Superior Courthouse in the heart of Sacramento. She looked up and down the corridor. Now one was present.

She pulled me into the men’s room, this wild look on her face.

“What are you doing?” I asked my younger sister. She was a cop, like me. Twenty-five. Her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face cute with just a light amount of makeup on. “Cat?”

“Need you,” she moaned, pulling me to the last stall. The handicap one.

“Here?” I demanded.

“We’re screwing them over, and we’re not even better,” she said, this pain in her eyes. “We’re just as guilty as they are. What are we even doing?”

“Our job,” I groaned as she yanked me into the stall. I slammed it closed behind her. Locked it.

I cupped her face and kissed her hard on the lips. This was insane. We could get caught. We should never have crossed that line into incest. Clint fucking Elliston and his women had messed with our minds. Got us all aroused and then gave us that damning evidence to bury his ass. Now here I was, kissing my sister.

Was she trying to get us caught? I felt bad about turning them in after what we did, but it was our job. They broke the law.

We broke the law.

Were breaking the law!

I thrust my tongue into my little sister’s mouth. Our tongues dueled. Her fingers raked down my body to my belt. She fumbled at the fastener. She undid it, ripping my heavy belt holding my gun and gear on it. She let it hit the floor with a clatter, her lips so warm and sweet on mine.

Last night blazed through my mind. We’d swore to never do it again. Couldn’t ever do it again.

Her fingers ran through my hair. People could walk in and catch us. And as if thinking that had summoned them, the door creaked open. A man walked in as we kissed. My hands slid down, cupping my sister’s ass through her pants. I squeezed her. Groped her. The man let out a sigh as he pissed.

My sister kept her lips on mine as she shoved her hands to her own gun belt. Popped it open. Ripped it off. Dropped it to the floor. My hands squeezed her rump. I dug my fingers into her ass, my cock so hard. I humped against her.

My sweet little sister.

Her hands attacked my pants. She unfastened them. Zipper rasped. The man washed his hands, oblivious to the crime we committed. My sister shoved her hand inside my pants. She squeezed my cock. She held me tight, her tongue dancing with mine.

I loved it. I savored every moment of her kissing me. She shoved my trousers down off my hips, her hands grabbing my cock. She squeezed and kneaded me through my boxers, stroking me up and down. Pleasure flowed through me.

She groaned into our kiss.

The hand blow dryer whirled on. The hot air blew over the man’s hands. He dried himself off as my sister shoved down my boxers next. She stroked me in her hands then she broke the kiss. She slid down to her knees.

Sucked me into her mouth.

I fought the urge to moan her name, a bead of sweat trickling down my brow. I was so aware of the man drying his hands. Then he left. I let out an explosive moan, the pleasure surging down my cock. Her lips slid up and down the shaft, her warm, wet tongue dancing around it.

“Jesus fuck, Cat,” I panted, my chest rising and falling. The bulletproof vest I wore beneath my shirt felt so constrictive. “What has gotten into you.”

She popped her mouth off my cock. “This!” She licked the bottom of my cock up to the tip, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting down my shaft when she caressed the pink crown. “Or it will be.”

She popped up to her feet and spun around. She braced her hands against the wall over the toilet and wiggled her ass. It was cute even through the unflattering trousers she wore. I groaned and shot my hands around her.

The door opened.

I ripped at the fly of her pants. Fastener popped open. Zipper rasped down. I yanked her pants off her hips and down her thighs, not caring that we could get caught. No, that made this more exciting. I tugged down her pants then her white panties. I ripped those off hard and exposed that gorgeous ass and her shaved pussy.

Juices beaded on them. She was soaked. I wanted to eat her, but...

We didn’t have that long. We were on a break.

“Shit,” I groaned and lined my cock at my sister’s pussy. She looked over her shoulder, this wild delight burning in her eyes. She wiggled that ass, begging me to slide into her and fuck her hard. I was so ready for it.

I pressed my cock into the folds of her pussy. She bit her lower lip, stifling her moan as her labia spread around my dick. Those engorged petals swallowed my tip. My crown and then my shaft vanished into my sister’s twat.

In the courthouse.

Surrounded by judges, lawyers, cops, and juries.

Her tight, hot cunt squeezed about me. I shuddered as I went deeper and deeper. Her back arched. She didn’t moan, fighting to keep in her passion. I knew I was. Her silky snatch massaged me. My balls twitched. Delight burned in her hazel eyes.

I bottomed out in her and a second man entered the restroom, talking with the first. Their footsteps echoed. I shuddered, bottoming out in my sister. My black bush rubbed into her pale skin. Her juices trickled out onto my balls.

I drew back. Two people caught up in their illicit fucking. Two people too lost to their incestuous passion.

I thrust into her. Hard. My balls cracked into her flesh. My crotch smacked into her. My uniform rustled around me. My badge gleamed in the light, flashing up on my chest. My sister’s snatch gripped me as I pounded her. She lowered her head, letting out just the smallest whimper.

I grabbed her ponytail. I gripped her silky hair in a tight grip as I thrust my cock into her incestuous depths. The pleasure surged down my shaft. A taboo rush to do this in such a public way. A drug screaming through my veins, soothing that acidic guilt churning in my stomach.

We were no better than Clint and his women.

Her hips wiggled from side to side. She stirred her cunt around my cock, massaging me. The silky grip built and built the pressure around her cock. I squeezed my hand about her hair as I slammed into her, wanting to moan out all the words brimming in me.

To tell my little sister how hot her pussy felt.

How silky her twat was about my dick.

How much I wanted to cum in her.

Just spurt my jizz into her.

She rotated her hips. Her butt-cheeks jiggled from the impact. The bathroom door opened, closed. Men came in and out, oblivious to the crime we committed. To the wild incest blazing in the bathroom. My sister whimpered, keeping it low. Exciting. Clothing rusted. Flesh smacked flesh.

Her tart musk rose in the air.

The scent of her passion-filled my nose, driving my hips forward. The ache grew. Her cunt squeezed about my cock. The friction blazed in me. The wild heat that would have me spurting my jizz into her snatch. Just firing it all into her.

Blast after blast of spunk that would fill her to the brim. It was incredible to experience. To revel in this delight. I groaned as I pumped away at her. I slammed to the hilt in her again and again. My sister’s twat brought me to the brink.

I slammed into her.

She clapped a hand over her mouth and squealed.

“Cat!” I groaned as her pussy convulsed around me.

Her hot cunt massaged my dick. Her juicy twat writhed and spasmed around me. I plunged into her, reveling in her passion. She moaned into her hand, muffling it from the man using the urinal. He could be a cop. Someone that should be arresting us.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I drew back, her pussy sucking at my dick.

She hungered for my cum.

My balls smacked into her clit. She moaned into her hand. I yanked on her ponytail, hauling her head back. With a growl, I erupted into my little sister’s hungry snatch. I spurted blast after blast of jizz into her twat.

It was incredible. A rush like no other. Surrounded by the justice system that would condemn us, I flooded my sister’s twat with my incestuous seed. No protection. No birth control. My raw cock unloaded into her juicy snatch.

She moaned louder. Her cunt spasmed harder.

“Yes,” I groaned, trembling there as the pleasure slammed into my mind.

My veins burned with our illicit passion. My balls tensed, unloading every drop into her. She groaned. Moaned. Her hand muffled her passion. She looked over her shoulder at me, her hazel eyes glossy with passion.

I spurted the last blast into her.

“Shit,” I muttered and stepped back. I almost tripped on my pants bunched around my ankle.

My cock popped out, my cum bubbling out of her twat.

“Mmm,” she purred, hand falling from her mouth. “I needed that.”

“Yeah,” I panted. “Shit, we can’t do this.”

“No, we can’t,” she said, and I knew we’d do it again and again. It felt too amazing. The best sex of my life. “Tonight.”

“Every fucking night,” I groaned and hauled up my boxers.

Cruzita Martínez

I was so screwed. So damned screwed.

That thought screamed through my mind as I sat in Judge Coburn’s office. The stunned look on the older man’s face would have made his hair go white if it wasn’t already mostly there. He shifted and then glanced at the photo of his daughter, Tammy. He had her late in life. From his second wife, who died a decade or more ago.

“I just...” He looked up to me and then to my superior in the District Attorney’s office. “You really have this Clint Elliston nailed this badly, Ed?”

“That we do, your honor,” Ed Thomas said. He looked like a ten-year-old boy than a man in his forties. He had a grin ear to ear. This was the case that would win him election to the DA’s post in a year. It would bring national attention.

This case would ripple out through the world. It would snag up others outside of the Elliston family. Like me. My life was over. I was so fucked the moment the investigation reached the Lady’s Touch Massage Parlor and they realized I was one of the women who attended there. Someone would talk about the Campo sisters having sex with their clients.

And encouraging their clients to commit incest. Like they had with me and my daughter.

“You’ll get your warrants,” the judge said, his voice tight. “I’ll have my clerk draw them up and get them signed and to you as fast as possible.”

“Thanks, your honor,” said Ed, standing up and extending his hand. They shook.

“Your honor,” I said, my voice faint, my heart screaming.

Ed was all grins outside the judge’s office. “We’re going to do it, Cruzita. Going to nail him. Finally.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. For the last five months, I’d held onto a small hope that Clint had covered his tracks enough, but to just give the undercover cops the incriminating evidence last night ... He was done. Blood tests would be taken to prove that the children were all his, and that they were all biologically related. Incest.

We found Detectives Tucker and Savage sitting in the conference room with the case files spread out before them. The other two cops, the undercover ones, weren’t here. Nelson looked up, his eyes blazing.

“Judge Coburn is ginning up the warrants as we speak,” Ed said, marching with confidence around the table. “We’re burying them today.”

Detective Nelson clapped his hands together. The much younger Detective Savage laughed in delight.

The door opened and the two undercover cops, a brother and sister in the department, strode in, the older Officer Nicholson adjusting his uniform, his face flushed.

“We got the warrants,” Nelson said, standing up. He thrust his hand out and shook Isaac’s. “You and your sister nailed their asses. Great job.”

“Thanks,” Isaac said. He looked like a man hit in the face with the full weight of history.

Clinton “Clint” Elliston II

I sat in my office at the small law firm I worked for, Reenburg Law. I was an associate to Elisabet Reenburg, an experienced and well-respected attorney in Sacramento. Wife of Senator William Reenburg and in an incestuous relationship with her son and daughter, a pair who went to my high school.

It was why I trusted Elisabet to help me legalize bigamy and incest. She had as much reason as me. Her third child was her son’s. If that ever got out, she would be finished. It would end her husband’s political career. Through their connections, I had expanded my contacts and lured other powerful men and women into incest.

A loud, ringing chirp burst out of my desk. My stomach roiled. I swallowed and pulled out the burner phone in there. I charged it up every few days. I had never used it. There was only one reason for anyone to send a message to me.

My hand shook as the fear rippled through me. A cold dread. It was a text from Mr. James. That wasn’t the person’s real name, of course. Just signed arrest warrants for you and your family on charges of incest.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I read the text from Judge Coburn.

A momentary wave of fear washed through me, a dread settling in. I fought against the panic. I had prepared for this day. Knew it would come eventually. I was too vocal about what I wanted. The change wouldn’t come easy. Those who feared it would stand up to oppose me. So I had planned for this day.

I stood up and disassembled the burner phone. I moved to the wall. The case files would be protected. Even if I was arrested, they couldn’t touch privileged communications between me and my clients. I slipped the phone in there. Elisabet would dispose of it later.

I drew my real phone, my fingers were already working on the group text to send out when I knocked on the door to Elisabet’s office. She muttered something. I opened the door to find her sitting at her desk, glasses perched on her nose. Her blonde hair spilled about her mature and lovely face.

“Clint, do you have that—”

“My family and I are about to be arrested,” I said. “Judge Coburn’s signing the warrants right now.”

“Oh,” she said, the color draining from her cheeks. “Okay.”

I finished typing my text and sent it to my family: What movie should we watch tonight?

I sat down across from Elisbet and waited for the police to come. This was a desperate plan, but if it worked...

Melody Elliston

I lifted up my phone from my desk and glanced at the text message from Clint. It was a group one, to all the women of the family.

What move should we watch tonight?

“Fuck,” I snarled. A shudder ran through me as I read the innocuous text. Bubbling fear rose from my stomach. My eyes flashed to the photos of my daughter, of Clint and me, and Pam and me sitting on my desk. My heart beat fast. My chair creaked in my office at the law firm I worked at.

I grabbed my drawer, pulled out the burner phone in there. I had never used it once. I sent out the text.

Pam Ellison

“I just feel like my husband is so close to giving in,” Rachel Bennett said to me as she sat on my therapist couch. Not my bed. I wasn’t doing “cuddle” therapy with Mrs. Bennett.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked. Mrs. Bennet had come to me when she realized her husband was becoming obsessed with their daughter and that she thought her daughter was encouraging the attention. She didn’t know how to handle it. if it was just her husband, she would have been mad, but she believed it was the daughter’s fault more and more.

“He’s jerking off in her panties. He has to know that she’s leaving them out deliberately. She’s wearing three or four pairs in a day now when he’s home.”

“Have you been subtly encouraging him to act?” I asked. I had convinced her that not only was it normal for a daughter to want to have sex with her father, but it was healthy if they engaged in it. Both would have their self-esteem boosted. And if she wanted to join in, why, it was the twenty-first century.

“I have, but he’s scared. He’s a fireman.” Rachel shifted. “He’s terrified of getting caught.”

“I understand,” I said. My phone beeped. “Well, I want you to keep at it. In fact, the next time he goes to do it, catch him and slip off your own panties. Say he can use yours, too. Maybe together with your daughters. Prime him.”

“That is a fantastic idea,” Rachel said, a naughty glint in her eyes. It wouldn’t be long for her family until they took the plunge into incest. I could just feel it. There was nothing more satisfying than that. Like with Isaac and Catherine last night. I knew that brother and sister had crossed the line.

It was so satisfying helping others realize that.

As Rachel left, my phone chimed. I checked it. My blood went cold. My good mood evaporated. I drew in a deep breath. Our family had prepared for this day. Would it be enough?

Leann “Lee” Samuels

“Cleanup!” I shouted, leaping to my feet. “Cleanup! Right now!”

I had drilled for this. I pulled out the booking computer for the massage parlor and removed the hard drive. Then I pulled out the dummy one I prepared at the end of every day to be more innocuous and slipped it in. Two minutes, and the computer was starting back up.

“Cleanup!” I shouted, moving down the hallway. “Hurry, hurry! Every sex toy! Let’s go!”

Gasp burst from rooms. Juana Campo thrust her head out of one, her eyes wide as I strode by to grab a garbage bag from a supply closet. A large, heavy-duty one. She stared at me in shock. I normally wasn’t so forceful, I was a sex slave, but this was life or death.

“Move it!” I shouted. “Right!”

The Campo sisters, Stefani, and my big sister Zoey all launched into action. Clients were hustled out, sex toys were dumped into the bag. We were just a normal massage parlor that gave women relaxation. My stomach knotted. The moment we had it all, I darted for the back door, carrying my heavy load. It was such a shame. I opened the door to the back parking lot.

No cameras.

From here, I moved through an alley two blocks away, following a path I’d practiced. There was not a single security camera along this route. No one to see me. Behind a nursing home, I lifted up their dumpster, threw in the garbage, and then headed back to the massage parlor.

I took my post back at the receptionist’s desk, my heart screaming in my chest. This was it. I closed my eyes. Clint had drilled us on how to ask. Lawyers. Invoke our 5th Amendment rights. Say nothing. Lawyers. Invoke. Say nothing. The mantra echoed in my head as I waited for the police to come and arrest me.

Alicia Elliston

“Come on,” I said to the three youngest children that were home with me. The rest were in school, but Judi, Daisy, and Zane (Clint’s daughters with Mrs. Armstrong, Stefani, and his son with Zoey) were only in preschool.

And they were already back from that.

“Hold hands,” I said, taking Zane’s. They were all born within days of each other. “That’s it. Just like that.”

They were nearly five. My heart pounded in my chest as I led them out of the house. I wished the others were home, including my twins, but there was no helping that. Hopefully, Elisabet could keep them out of the foster care system. We knew this was a risk. That this day could come.

Clint had a plan, but...

I held my head high as I led my nieces and nephew across the street and reached the Miharas’ house. I knocked on the door. I prayed that the Miharas wouldn’t be arrested. But it was impossible to know how far the ripples would spread.

This was our chance to show the injustice. It had to work.

Minako opened the door. The slender woman, my age, blinked in surprise. “Minako is shocked to see you.”

“It’s happening,” I said, handing over the children to her. “Take care of them for us.”

“Minako will,” she said. She always used her first name. Her sister never did, though. It was a quirk of hers. Normally, I found it cute, like how I liked to pretend I was a little girl, but right now I was terrified. I was an adult who knew the full might of the California legal system was about to batter into my family.

“Thank you so much,” I said. I darted in and kissed her on the lips.