Fucked Up Family Pt. 05

"Ohhhhh, that's it," he said.

"Wow Dad, you practically hit the wall from here," Austin said. He took his own dong out of Lexi, despite her protests. He jerked himself quickly and his own orgasm overtook him. The tall brunette felt her back spattered warm with her brother's seed.

"Oh man, I wasn't even halfway to where you got," Austin said.

"But look at how much more you made," James said, "you practically painted our little Lexi."

Both men reached down to help the girls stand. Everyone started getting dressed.

"That was awesome, Daddy," Molly said. She kissed his cheek and skipped off to the kitchen.

"You owe me another load," Lexi said, "In the right place next time." She kissed her brother's cheek and followed her younger sister out.

Both men pulled up their pants. James put his hand on Austin's shoulder.

"It's a good life isn't it, son?" he said. Austin had to agree that it was.

*

Lexi and Austin lay naked together in his tiny single bed. There wasn't much room, and they were wrapped around each other. It had become a new tradition for them, ever since they'd cuddled after anal sex with Molly in the shower. They didn't do anything dirty (not always in any case), they just enjoyed the feeling of being this close, this intimate. Austin had tried doing the same with his Mom, but she'd been totally uninterested.

There was a knock on the door and Molly came in. She was completely bare, as well. Huge white spatters ran across her ample chest. Her face was flushed, and she was grinning dopily.

"Mom doesn't like it when I stay with them," Molly said, "Room for one more in here?"

"On this tiny bed?" Lexi asked.

"And covered in Dad's stuff?" Austin asked.

"Lexi likes his stuff," Molly said, "Also my bed is big enough for all three of us."

The three siblings decamped to Molly's room and climbed on top of her covers. Austin on one side, Molly on the other, Lexi in the middle. The tall brunette took turns running her hands down Austin's defined chest, then switching to Molly's massive breasts.

"Are we going to hell?" Molly asked out of nowhere.

"Wait, what?" Austin asked. He rolled over to his side so he could answer his younger sibling properly.

"What we're doing. Fucking each other. It's wrong, right?" Molly asked.

"Are you having fun?" Lexi asked.

"Fuck yeah," Molly said.

"Is anyone getting hurt? Is anything going wrong because of what we're doing?" Lexi asked. She started stroking her sister's hair, lovingly.

"Well, Austin lost his job," Molly said.

"I keep telling you that was my own doing," Austin said, "Trust me. What Lexi's saying is, are there any direct consequences from us all having sex?"

"No," Molly said, "I don't think so."

"Then it's not wrong," Lexi said.

"But the bible says that we're not supposed to do this," Molly said, "Incest, I mean."

"I'm pretty sure the bible says we're not supposed to have sex, period," Austin said.

"Or use the bathroom," Lexi said.

"Seriously guys," Molly said. She sat up. Brother and sister stared at her massive chest, still covered with crusty cum. "I mean it. Even with consent and no consequences, what we're all doing is wrong, right? It's like, morally twisted. What happens if we really do get punished for this. Like, am I going to have to explain to the Almighty why I had sex with my Dad? My brother and sister?"

"You're giving other people pleasure," Austin said, "I don't think God's going to be angry at you for doing that."

"But it's still wrong, Austin," Molly said, "If the police came here tomorrow, I mean... Maybe it's not illegal? But it's certainly a sin. Right?"

"No," Lexi said, "Maybe. I don't know. I don't think anyone knows. That's the point. We try to be our best selves, what more can we be? We're doing something we love; that we're passionate about. That makes other people happy. It's a weird, twisted happiness, but still. I mean, there are billion-dollar movies about killing people. Is that really so much worse than sex?"

"Maybe if we stop sometime in the future it'll be OK," Molly said, "Just wipe out everything we're doing here and make it OK. Or maybe God will understand. Like, we didn't want to start this and maybe God gets it and forgives us."

"Or maybe there is no God," Lexi said, "No eternal judgement. And life keeps moving on without us."

"I'd rather go to hell than have nothing," Austin said. "The thought of everything ending? My consciousness gone forever? That scares the crap out of me. I'll take infinite burning fire over that."

"That's messed up," Lexi said.

"I worry that everything we're doing is wrong," Molly said, "That it's breaking us in ways we can't see. And someday, something will happen, and I'll spend the rest of my life regretting this choice. Wishing I could go back and undo it all."

"So, you're going to stop having sex with us?" Lexi asked.

"No," Molly said, pouty. "I don't want it to stop. I want to keep doing this. Maybe forever. But sometimes I wonder if I need to stop. There are plenty of people with drinking problems who ought to quit but are planning on doing it forever. Plenty of rapists and murderers who think that what they did was right."

"You're not doing those things," Lexi said.

"No," Molly said, "But sometimes I feel like I'm doing something just as bad, only in a more insidious way. That my whole life will be taken away because I couldn't stop doing something that in my heart, I know is wrong. That I need to go out and find a normal boyfriend and have a normal life with a normal family."

"But you won't," Austin said.

"Probably not," Molly said, "I like this too much. And so, sometimes, I wonder if that means I'm going to hell."

"I don't know," Lexi said.

"Maybe," Austin said. He shrugged.

"You guys suck," Molly said. Her siblings sat up and hugged her, tightly. Lexi kissed her cheek. Austin cupped her boob. He knew it wasn't supportive, but he didn't care.

"Maybe you're right," Lexi said, "We have to try to be our best selves. And if that includes what we're doing now, then I guess that's the stain on our souls. I still think there are worse ones. No one gets out of this life without taking a hit. Everyone gets scars. Pretending that we have to be perfect is silly. I don't know -- I think I'd rather be flawed and happy than 'good.' At least that's what I'm going with right now."

Lexi, Molly, and Austin lay back, holding each other tight. The three of them locked together. The bed was warm, the house was cozy. The rest of the world felt right.

"I still think I'm going to hell," Molly said, "But I'm not stopping this, either, so I guess I'm OK with it."

"Or maybe nothing happens at all and we just become nothing," Lexi said.

"Great, I guess I won't be sleeping tonight," Austin said, "Thanks for that, sis."

"If you're not going to sleep, we could all have sex," Molly said.

She smiled wickedly.

*

Christine woke up that morning like coming out of a haze. It felt like a long time since she'd stepped back and looked at her life. Every day now, her family fucked and sucked. They became one, in an incestuous tangle of cunts and cocks. Penises and pussies. Father and daughter. Mother and son. Brother and sisters. Together in every way they could think of.

United as one in every possible sense.

Christine had fought it for so long. She didn't want to be that family. It felt like weakness. Yet she couldn't stop submitting. And at a certain point she'd come to accept it. She told herself that what they were doing wasn't dirty or wrong. She reminded herself that this was what she wanted.

It wasn't perfect -- nothing ever was. She loved fucking Austin, yes. And being with Lexi had become a neat little treat. But it would be nice if her husband would stop dicking their youngest daughter. Or, at lease, pretended to notice her lying next to him in bed. Both James and Molly were so frustrating sometimes. But that's what families did, right? They let each other down. That didn't mean they stopped loving each other.

Christine was used to disappointment with Molly, honestly. The blonde girl was always such a let down. While Christine was pushing the family to constantly compete, Molly was the one who lagged behind. The fact that James now encouraged that behavior, practically glorified in it, well it made Christine wonder what she was doing with him, as well.

Of course she loved her husband. It was just... After the camping trip, everything was different. Christine saw James in a different light. She'd always thought he was on her side, a supporter to everything she accomplished. Now she knew he was one of them: the people who thought that life was about being good enough instead of being great.

Well, Christine lay in bed that morning feeling great. About her life, her children, and especially herself. Not a problem in the whole world.

In fact, she felt so good, she considered cancelling that morning's appointment with Dr. Pulisic. It was hard to believe how much time had passed since the family had raced right from the campsite to his office. The good doctor had tried so hard for all of them. And in the end, where did it lead them? Back into each other's beds (and a few other places, as well).

So, after all that time, what was she going to tell him? And even if she did speak the truth -- divulge every incident in excruciating, ecstatic detail -- what would he do about it? He'd found nothing wrong with them, physically. Would he sit there and repeat the mantra that they had to work a little harder? Please. If Christine couldn't stop, then no one could. This was simply their lives now. They were just lucky that nothing could go worse than it already had.

But Christine knew the family ought to go to the appointment, if anything just for appearances. So that morning she gathered everyone up, got them all in the orgy-mobile, and drove down to see Dr. Pulisic once again.

The good doctor looked the same as she remembered him, with his rumpled dress shirt and thinning hair. He smiled broadly when he saw the family, like they were all old friends. One-by-one, he brought each family member into his office and spoke to them. Christine didn't need to hear them talk to know what her family was saying. They'd all agreed on the drive over.

"No more urges," James said.

"We're totally over it," Molly said.

"I don't even like looking at my brother," Lexi said.

"We're doing great," Austin said.

"Thank you, Josip," Christine said, "You've helped us all so much."

Dr. Pulisic eyed Christine hesitantly. She was his final interview; the rest of the family was sitting outside in the waiting room. Christine perched up on the exam table. She gave Dr. Pulisic the same nervous look back.

"There's one more thing we need to discuss," he said. He stared down at the floor and kicked his foot. Like pushing a little, invisible pebble. "About your blood tests."

"Oh my God, did you find what's causing... I mean, what caused the, um, incident?"

"No, I'm sorry to say I've hit a dead end. Even the small leads I originally had have simply melted away. You're perfectly normal. All of you. Except, well..."

Fuck. The look in his eye. The tests had been comprehensive. Had Dr. Pulisic found a different kind of abnormality? Christine knew cancer ran in the family. Her mother had died from a metastasized breast tumor when Christine was in her twenties. She had an Uncle who died of glioblastoma, as well.

Christine ran every possible horrific result through her mind in a matter of seconds. Every nightmare diagnosis. Cancers, of course. Probably too young for Parkinson's, but she was right in the sweet spot for MS. All kinds of autoimmune disorders. God, she'd taken such good care of herself. What could possibly be wrong with her?

"You're pregnant," Dr. Pulisic said.

Christine nearly fell off the exam table. "That's not possible," she said, "I mean, I can't. The test must be wrong."

"I've run it three times," Dr. Pulisic said, "That's why I waited to see you last. I'm sorry, Christine. Is there any chance it could be... I mean, it's almost certainly your husband's, yes?"

Christine stared at the floor. No, it almost certainly wasn't. She hadn't had sex with James since the campsite. And only that one time. Since then it had been a steady diet of her son. Her little boy had put his own baby in his Mommy. His own sibling was now waiting in her womb. Of all the nightmares Christine had foreseen, this one simply hadn't occurred to her. Oh God. She shook her head slowly.

"There's more," Dr. Pulisic said, gravely, "Your daughter is pregnant, too."

"Molly?!" Christine screamed. She was going to kill James. Fucking murder him. All the times she'd told him to keep his dick out of his unprotected, little girl. Of course he didn't listen. Goddamn it. Goddamn both of them. How could they be so fucking stupid?!

"No, Molly is actually the only one of you who isn't with child," Dr. Pulisic said. He put his hand on Christine's leg. A warm, comforting gesture. "I know Lexi's old enough to hear it herself, but I thought it would be easier if it came from her mother rather than me."

"I don't understand," Christine said. All she could hear was her heartbeat. The pulsing pounding of blood as it rushed through her system. She was overwhelmed by the sickly, antiseptic stench of the exam room. The too hot touch of Dr. Pulisic's hand on her knee. How could this have happened? How was any of this possible?

"Post-tubal ligation pregnancies are rare, but they do occur. And I know your oldest daughter is on the pill, but there's a reason we always say 99% effective. 1% may not seem like much, but in the context of billions of women, it's still common enough. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say except that I know this must be very traumatic for you.

Christine thought about the jokes she used to share with James about his unusually potent, extremely persistent sperm. After all, they'd been safe in high school, too. And it had led to three children. So, Christine was almost too familiar with this talk from a doctor when it came to her husband's cum.

Except it wasn't her husband this time, was it?

"I don't want to presume anything," Dr. Pulisic said, "Evaluating the progression of th pregnancies, I can say that both were almost certainly conceived around when your family visited me the first time. Based on everything else you've told me, I have to assume these babies are unfortunate. On a number of levels."

Christine put her hands on her middle. On her womb. She knew what it was like to carry life within her. She'd done this three times already. And now that she knew what she was looking for, she swore she could feel it there. Which was ludicrous. At most it was a clump of cells, nothing more. Call it mother's intuition, a lifetime of experience, whatever. Christine knew what she was carrying. And she knew it wasn't her husband's.

Fucking Austin. Apparently unusually potent, particularly persistent sperm ran in the family.

Christine felt the tears well up and she didn't bother to hold them back. She felt Dr. Pulisic hug her. How would she tell James? Oh fuck, how would she tell Lexi?! How was she going to tell anyone?

"As a fellow doctor, I don't have to tell you the risks involved with carrying your son's child to term," Dr. Pulisic said, "If your daughter is pregnant by her father, by her brother? You aren't so far along. You still have options."

Christine stiffened. She slipped out of Dr. Pulisic's hug. Wiped the tears from her cheek and sniffled them back. This display wasn't doing anything. Wasn't helping at all. She slid off the exam table and stood.

"I need to think about that," she said, "We all need to think about it."

"Of course," Dr. Pulisic said, but he looked surprised, "Talk to your family. No one will blame you for such a choice."

But Christine did blame herself. For all of it. This whole disaster had been on her hands from the beginning. She had given the family the pills. She'd begged Austin to stick his cock inside her. She'd watched, silent, as James fucked Molly, as well. Hell, even Austin and Lexi -- the two siblings had been completely responsible until she, their own mother, encouraged Austin to inseminate his sister.

She was the one who'd taken them to this doctor, who of course had done nothing. Christine had kept fucking her son, her daughter. Would James have stopped if she'd been able to control herself? She couldn't say for sure. But it certainly contributed that she continued the behavior.

And then, when it had all come out. When the family admitted they'd stopped trying to stop boinking each other and was now only aiming to get in each other's pants? It had been Christine who'd come up with that ridiculous rule: no more secrets. She'd seen it as a stopgap in the moment. A temporary hold. She recognized what it was now: implicit permission for illicit acts amongst the family.

And now that they were here? Now that they all had actual, unavoidable consequences growing in their wombs, what could she do? There was no time machine. No undo button. This is what they were.

For a moment, Christine entertained the fantasy: this would finally stop them. This outcome, this miserable inescapable result of their perverse natures, would finally be the end of the family fucking.

Christine knew it was a lie. They were in this now, forever. Tied to it, anchored. And like that metaphorical object, they would all sink, inexorably, to the bottom. Nor would drowning in this misery even grant them the peaceful reward of death. The Campbell family was going to have to live this life they'd created, breath by excruciating breath. There were no outs anymore. No escapes.

Christine left Dr. Pulisic's office, robotic. She found the family in the waiting room. They smiled up at her warmly. Even Molly looked on her mom with a loving kindness. It only made Christine feel worse.

They all piled into the car and drove home. The kids were singing some pop tune in the back. James joined in, as well. The family SUV jaunted along past palatial homes and perfectly manicured lawns. The safe haven of suburbia that Christine had bought into so fully.

Before the camping trip, Christine fully believed that she lived in a good place with a fair God who loved her. Not because she was one of His flock, His children. But because she deserved God's love. Earned it.

Christine worked hard. She went to school, raised a family, made good money. She lived in a big house in a good neighborhood. She built her body into a monument to perfection. She ate right, worked out, and never did drugs or even drank alcohol.

The family took wholesome vacations to Yellowstone and Disney. She voted with her conscience, gave to charity, volunteered at the kids' schools. Raised smart children with good morals. Paid for them to go to college and start wholesome lives of their own.

In other words, Christine followed the rules. She lived the way everyone said to. So, of course, she would win.

Only now, as she watched the world roll by, she realized it was all a lie.

You could be a criminal and still be a CEO. You could rape and murder and win humanitarian awards. You could cheat and steal and live in one of those white picket-fenced homes. None of it fucking mattered. There was no eternal reward. You would not reap what you sowed. You could do everything right and end up with a pile of shit.

You could be the best person possible, and then take one stupid pill and wake up pregnant with your own grandson. With your daughter knocked up by her own brother. With your whole world fucking shattered. And for what?

Fate had taken a giant crap on Christine's head. God had abandoned her. The universe had screwed her over. She lived life exactly right and life had turned around and told her to fuck off.