As Is Custom: a Second Household

This piece was written as a companion piece to As Is Custom. They are, as it were, set in the same parallel universe.

WARNING: this story contains themes of incest and non-consent. Please use your best judgement when deciding whether to read on.

Looking down I saw her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth a tight line.

“Don’t panic.” The Reverend’s voice echoed in my memory and it took all the strength I had not to consider all the reasons I really ought to panic.

Beneath me she moaned behind her clenched teeth, trying to breathe calmly through her nose. Her whole body jerked as I positioned myself between her thighs, and as I touched the tip of my cock to her sex she released her jaw and howled.

“No! No! Please… please don’t! Please Daddy, please don’t!”

A thousand images flashed through my mind. Her birth. Initial conversations. Decisions made. And the contract.

Reverend Williams had been so businesslike as he set his fountain pen down on their glass dining table, sliding the paper over to me as though it were nothing more than another school consent form.

“I know this is difficult. Twins are always complicated.” The old man cleared his throat. “The laws of our rituals do, perhaps, need to be amended. I don’t think multiple births were taken into account. Lord knows what I’d do with triplets.” Reverend Williams let out a wry laugh that pierced me and made my gut lurch.

Looking up at us he must have seen a parade of horrified expressions before him. He gave us a look, tinged with incredulity at our discomfort. “But, really, Mr Thomas, you’ve had a long time to prepare for this. You couldn’t have been unaware of the circumstances.”

“No…” I conceded.

“I’ll admit, it is awkward. The law being what it is, incest is legal and, as we know, sometimes necessary. But I suppose we haven’t come so far as to be able to get rid of the social stigma. We will though. With days like this.”

The word struck me with horror and it was all I could do to hold his gaze as he spoke. I couldn’t bear to have him speak so directly to my girls; as long as I kept my eyes on his, he would maintain my locked stare.

“Now, have you come to a decision about which girl… about which girl will come with me?”

It settled me a little that although familiar with the ritual, there were still some aspects that caused him to trip over words. But then I had to answer. I looked over at the girls, as if to double check the decision we had spent hours making. They looked up at me, unwavering, clearly set in their agreement. I saw how their hands were knitted together beneath the table and turned back to Reverend Williams.

“Yes. Bianca stays with me.” It took all my strength to keep my voice calm as I said it. I had to show her that I knew my mind, that I would be strong for her, not force her to take responsibility.

Reverend Williams nodded and pointed to a dotted line on the right hand side of the contract. “Then you sign here.”

Frowning I leaned over the page and began to read. The Reverend interrupted my focus. “Mr Thomas? There’s really no need to read that. I’m a man of the church. It simply states that you take it into your hands to guide Bianca through this ritual and that you will do it according to our laws and customs.”

Two sentences in I was happy to be relieved of the burden of the fine print. The words stabbed my throat. Picking up Reverend Williams’ pen, I signed fast. Perhaps it seemed callous to Bianca and Ella. Or worse, eager. For myself, I knew then, as with now, that if I didn’t act fast, if I allowed myself a moment of contemplation, I would never get through it. As my name blossomed in ink, I felt my mouth straighten into resolve.

Earnestly I tried to hide my shaking hand as he took the contract back.

“Very good.”

Ella’s voice sung in my ear as she protested, on behalf of her sister. “Reverend Williams! please. Please, take pity. Is there no way you could see us both at the same time? Or even see me and then Bianca? It just says the same day, doesn’t it? Not the same time.”

The Reverend smirked and I wanted to put my hands around his holy neck. That this old man, weather worn and grey at his temples was here to take my daughter’s virginity would have been difficult enough, and I tried hard to keep the thought from my mind. I worked not to imagine Ella supine beneath him.

“My child, you flatter me if you think I can go through this twice before the day comes to an end. It’s nine o’clock already. I’m sorry, but it has to be done this way.” He paused for a moment, and seemed to glance up at my wife who hovered, useless and excluded behind us. “Mrs Thomas, please explain to your daughters; their Father is more than capable of guiding Bianca through this. And perhaps with even more care and delicacy than me. She could not be in safer hands.”

I heard the dry click in her throat as my wife swallowed and turned to gaze aimlessly at the door.

Somehow we had risen to our feet, ascended the stairs and parted ways. Just then was the moment; as I boldly stepped into Bianca’s room, Reverend Williams had placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t panic.”

His words had only reminded me to watch him as he disappeared into the soft, childish pink of my daughter’s bedroom, and I hated him almost as much as myself when I laid Bianca on her back and parted her thighs to inspect her pink cunt.

As much as I could within the rigid regulations of the ritual, I eased Bianca into her sexuality, slowly and gently touching her, soothing her through her protestations.

Worst was the moment I placed my palms on her knees. “Swee… Bianca…” My usual  terms of endearment stuck in my throat. “Bianca, show me.”

She shook her head, her eyes closed as though she couldn’t even bear to see me. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t understand.

“Bianca you have to. Please be good. Make this easier. Show me.”

Her eyes shot open  and she looked at me, her gaze burning, angry. “What Daddy? What? Show you what? You can’t even say it?”

She had startled me, but somehow I had said the words, and her surprise had parted her legs. “Show me your cunt.”

But now, as she howled in horror, that moment of desperate defiance seemed gentle and natural. Her anger then, soothing compared with the pure fear that ripped through her body as I touched my hardness to her.

“No! No! Please… please don’t! Please Daddy, please don’t!”

“Hush… it will be over fast. I promise. It’s nothing.” The words slipped out of my mouth, and my ease at rationalising the situation frightened even me.

Bianca fell limp, her body sagging into the mattress as her eyes contorted in discomfort.

“Relax.” I breathed the word as I rocked my hips, piercing the folds of her cunt. No more than half an inch, but she recoiled.

I tried desperately not to consider how I had even risen, grown hard to accommodate this horrific moment. Of all the terror, that was the worst. I couldn’t deny that the heat of her against my fingertips had excited me. Somewhere, deep in my abdomen, I wanted her.

I rocked again, pushing two inches inside her virgin cunt, and pressing on, gently, feeling her struggle and flex around me.

“Please… please……” Her voice melted into whispers as the strength drained from her body. The more limp she became the easier it was to penetrate her.

With one last thrust I embedded myself fully in her, taking the last painful inch of her innocence. She tensed beneath me.

The room was silent.

This entry was posted in As Is Custom, Dark, Fiction, Incest, Non-Consent, Sensuous, Series. Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to As Is Custom: a Second Household

  1. Squeaky says:

    Whoah. That was… Bravely and masterfully written. I won’t say beautifully, as the subject matter is as ugly as sin. But the concept…the characterization… Bravo, Harper. Bravo.

    • Harper Eliot says:

      *blushes deep red* Thank you Squeak… I’m glad people can’t read my mind.

  2. Squeaky says:

    *chuckle* if your mindreading comment was in reaction to my “ugly as sin”, allow me to clarify: this is not my thing, so i was looking at it from a purely literary POV, rather than one that included arousal. you got so much into such a short piece about the ills and perversions of society, religion, power, herd mentality, unwillingness to question the status quo, bad lawmaking, corruption… the list is endless. this is both a reflection of our own universe, and an echo of it. it makes me shudder in horror at the things in our universe that are so close to it.
    i think, though, that most people are *very* glad telepathy is not a real thing… ;)

    • Harper Eliot says:

      Wow… and all my accident, I assure you. I’m just perverse. Which is why I’m glad people can’t read my mind.

  3. Van Byrd says:

    Impressed! Maybe the piece should be longer to sustain the changes in POV. But it is tightly written, almost a prose poem.

    • Harper Eliot says:

      Have you read the first one? This universe is one that really doesn’t have a lot to be said about it, except that I wanted to capture these moments. Thank you.

  4. Yes, THAT Tonya (@TisforTMI) says:

    This is a superb companion piece to the other one. I really enjoyed the completely different perspective.

  5. Girl Uninterrupted says:

    I very much enjoyed both of these. I recoiled, yet couldn’t stop reading.

    Amazingly well written.

    G xx

Leave a Reply to Harper Eliot Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


You may use these HTML tags and attributes: