Incestuous Harem's Passion Ch. 20

"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 12, Elmer Bennett, all but glared at Ed. He hated what the man was selling. A fireman, married and with a daughter young 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 3 and 16, 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.