40 - Adharma

"Nothing lasts forever. The sleepers must awaken sometime, the laughter ends, the spunk drips out of the spent cock for the final time," Latoya said. Her brother, Leroy, handed her a candle. "So it was with Marcus and Antonia. In a story I call...

ADHARMA

The television played. Westerns, today. Marcus and Antonia's medical beds were set next to each other. Close enough that their hands touched, beneath the covers. Hands that they couldn't lift. A touch they could barely feel, pinky fingers locked together.

The monster came in, smelling of hemp, a bright smile on his face.

"Hello motherfuckers! Get some good sleep?"

Ten years in jail had hollowed the old man out. He was thin, wiry; his great bushy beard white and grey. Marcus' coveralls hung loose on his big frame. After the accident there had only been one family member left. Out on parole.

With great care, he peeled down the blankets. The siblings could see the stumps, the twisted limbs. They had hung upside-down in the car for days after the crash. The doctors said they had ****.

"Today's the day," he said, tapping Marcus' thigh. "I know you two been looking forward to it."

Marcus tracked his father's eyes as the old man carefully disconnected the catheter and fed a clear metal cap over his son's cockhead, a tube pushing inside his urethra. The other end of the tube emerged and ran into Antonia's labia. Pushed right up against her cervix.

"You know, I had a lot of time to think when I was in prison," he said. "No one would believe me when I told them I hadn't been feeding her those pills. No one would believe my own children would be molesting their mother."

His gnarled, callused hands spread the lube on the vibrators. Marcus could still feel as the old man lifted what was left of his legs and **** the plug into his ass. It went in easier than he could have imagined. Antonia actually grunted in discomfort, when it was her turn. Their father pressed the button, setting a constant buzz inside their hips.

"At the time, I didn't know what to do. How do you handle that kind of situation? There's no manual for that. If I'd reported you, your mother would have hated me, social workers would have taken you away. I thought maybe if I just turned a blind eye—well, that was my mistake. Not getting involved. Not teaching you right from wrong."

Marcus could feel the buzz of the vibrator. His cock twitched and slowly swelled inside of the tube. It had been weeks since he'd had any release.

"What I learned in prison wasn't forgiveness, or ****," he said. "It was dharma. The moral duty of an individual. As a father, I had failed to guide you in accordance with the universal truth. Now, of course, I have the chance to set things right. For us all to be upon our true paths. Or," and his smile was crazed. "I can go the other way. After all, you little incestuous motherfuckers have already been playing your games, even before I cut your break lines."

Antonia's eyes swiveled in her head. Her nipples rose, stiff and hard, as she saw Marcus' cock rise, swollen stiff and dark, quivering in the open air. Not for the first time, he strained every muscle. The paralysis was too complete. The monster chuckled as he turned the channel to a home video. It showed that night. When Marcus was eighteen, climbing onto his mother's **** body.

"The lawyer thought he was doing me a favor, keeping the videos out of evidence. Well, maybe he did," the old man said, as he went around his bed to where Antonia lay. He let one warm, callused hand rest on her abdomen.

"You know, they actually asked if you should have a hysterectomy? I said no. Told them it wasn't necessary. How could a crippled lady get pregnant, after all?"

Antonia's pinkie wrapped around Marcus' as tightly as she could. She still had some motion with that arm. It's why the old man had strapped it down. He slid the remote control to the vibrator into her hand.

"Now, I've got a lot of work to do. I'll leave you to it. Who knows? Maybe we'll get some little farmhands out of this."

He left them there, cackling to himself. Marcus and Antonia's eyes met. Her lips moved, unable to scream, but communicating a want, a need. Tried to shake her head. One finger stabbed the OFF button.

The vibrators in Marcus' and Antonia's ass shifted to a higher frequency. She stabbed it again and again, unable to comprehend the trap her father had laid, the illusion of choice. With each click, the vibration grew and grew. Until it became unbearable.

His choked grunts filled the small room. Veins stood out on his neck, face red, as his body strained. A white liquid flooded the little tube, and began the journey to his sister's pussy.

It was all he could do. So he did it. Inaction would have been the right path, he knew. Inseminating his sister's pussy was wrong. Then again, it wasn't like this was the first time. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she saw the virile flood as it slowly made its way toward her fertile womb.

Latoya closed her eyes, as if she could imagine herself in that moment, and gave a little shudder—whether of pleasure or horror, or some combination of the two, no one there could tell. Not even Leroy could guess.

She blew out the candle, and set it down next to her brother's.