Chapter 3: Love and War
Authors Note: This story is a work of fiction! All sexual participants are 18 or older! If any of my descriptions match a real person, it's purely coincidental! Additionally, there is minimal sex in this chapter. It is categorized as Incest/Taboo only due to the fact that it is part of the overall story.
Quick Recap: My name is Ares Carmichael (Aged 21). Upon returning home after four years, I discovered my father, Charles (Age 48) had turned my childhood home into a harem where he sexually dominates my mom, Vanessa (Age 47), along with my sisters, Artemis (Age 22), Polina (Age 22), Clio (Age 20), and Thalia (Age 20).
When caught, he delivered an ultimatum for me to leave and not speak with my family ever again. Much to the dismay of my mom and sisters, I agreed without knowing the full facts. It was only after my mother convinced my father to let me have limited contact did I learn the full truth, that he was forcing himself onto each of them and recording his activities, posting them on a website called HaremHouse. Upon discovering this deplorable truth, Nicole and I vowed to destroy his little pornographic empire.
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True to his word, my father did indeed have an apartment ready for us within a matter of days. He called my cell phone an hour after we got up for breakfast two days after mom's email. He listed the address as being in the heart of downtown, a half hour away from the hotel, and sent us a cab to drive us there.
When we arrived, Nicole and I stood in awe at the size of our apartment building. It was a semi-modern building and looked to be over 25 stories high. Mom and dad met us at the entrance, meeting us with dad's hazel eyes and mom's green eyes, standing next to a middle-aged slim white gentleman with dark blue eyes, in a business suit and briefcase.
After a short pleasant hello, one where mom tried to hug me but was stopped by dad's stern gaze, we went in and took an elevator to the 20th floor. The apartment itself was on the north corner, with two large windows facing the north and east corners of the city.
At a glance, it had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining area, a living space, and a kitchen. It was also fully furnished with tables, a king-size bed, a couch with reclining seats, and a pool table. Once we were settled in, dad gave us the rundown of our contract.
"Our verbal agreement stands, with some modifications that occurred in the interim." he said, his tone completely business-like, "You have agreed to look for a job within the parameters of your field. In exchange, this apartment's rent and utilities will be paid in full by me over the next five years.
"However, since your mother and sisters were insistent to the point of disobedience, I have allowed you to retain limited contact with them over the next few years. That being said, I have sent a revision to my lawyer," he gestured to the gentleman with the briefcase, "that stipulates the following: I am no longer paying for any groceries you purchase."
"What?!" Nicole and I said at the same time. Mom was also visibly shocked.
Dad grinned, menacingly, "In exchange for your mother and sisters being allowed to speak with you, I have decided it was a fair exchange to decrease the stipend you will receive in our agreement. The original price would have reached past $3500, and will now be reduced to only cover your individual rent and utilities, such as electricity, water, and internet access. You will have to buy food out of pocket."
"Charles, you can't be serious! How are Ares and Nicole supposed to buy food?" asked mom, clutching dad's shoulder.
"I would think the answer is obvious, Vanessa." said dad, not looking at mom, "If they wish to pay for groceries or takeout, then they will have to find employment quickly, like a full-time job in their field, or a part-time job to start off with. That is, of course, the price I have set since you seemed convinced my rules were not set in stone."
"But they haven't even moved in yet!" mom argued, "They don't know the neighborhood, and likely won't find a place to hire them immediately."
"That is neither my fault nor my problem!" dad snapped, "If you had kept your mouth shut, your son would be living on a full belly every night for the next five years! But nooo, you have to maintain contact with your precious little boy, like he's the golden child!"
"DAD!" I snapped, "It's fine! If it lets me speak with my sisters and mom, I will gladly go without grocery bills for a few days!"
Dad glared at me, then smiled, "Excellent." he said simply, before turning to his lawyer, "Richard?"
Richard opened his briefcase and handed me a four-page document. I looked at the heading and silently read over the agreements.
True to his word, dad added the amendment regarding my contact with my mom and sisters. According to the contract, I was limited to one phone call per person per day, with a time limit of one hour. The contract did not allow for multiple call times to add up to an hour, however. Obviously, the contract also reinforced the "no visitation" clause, with the bonus that I wasn't allowed to meet up with my mom or sisters at home, but said nothing about seeing them randomly in public.
Everything else was the same as our verbal agreement. I picked up a pen, and after a glance at mom, who gave me an imperceptible nod, indicating there wasn't anything in the contract that would have been used against me, I signed the contract. I then handed it back to Richard, who stamped it and returned it to his briefcase.
With nothing else, the three adults handed us the house keys and left. Mom lagged and dropped a small parcel she had fished out of her purse as she closed the door.
I walked over and grabbed the parcel. Taking it to the countertop, I opened it up to reveal a burner phone and some sandwiches. So, mom's outrage was fake. She knew about the reduced stipend and made me some sandwiches to keep us fed.
I showed Nicole the burner phone and said, "What do you suppose this is for?"
She shrugged, "No idea." she added.
We decided to leave the phone in a secure place and went about our day, checking LinkedIn and a few job-hunting sites for any updates to our delivered resumés.
We also discussed a few other topics that day, including what we'd do once the sandwiches were gone. I checked on the internet and found a few low-income job postings nearby, including a coffee shop a few blocks away. The two of us agreed it would be a good place to check out in case they were hiring.
Before we did so, however, I quickly checked on my sisters' internet presence. The morning after I had discovered HaremHouse, I thought about the times that I sent my sisters updates and personal messages over the last four years on social media and never heard back from them. At the time, it was disconcerting that my sisters had ignored me.
Now, however, it may have been intentional by dad. If he was broadcasting his daughters' amorous exploits on a website, he may have tried to limit their internet access so they don't accidentally find their naked pictures or videos online themselves, thus destroying his little porn empire.
Once I was on Facebook, I looked up Artemis' profile and activity log, stuff that she publicly shared. To my lack of surprise, it turned out that she hadn't posted anything since graduating high school, not even a prom photo or graduation picture.
I checked Clio and Thalia's profiles too. I didn't bother with Polina since we were never "friends" online. She had essentially blocked me when we got to high school, so there was no way I could look at her stuff. Clio and Thalia's pages were equally blank, with almost nothing over the past two years. It seemed clear that my sisters' internet access was all but cut off when they became dad's playthings.
To know for certain, I double-checked their Instagram pages and discovered that almost all of their photos were gone, including their summer pics from high school. Not just stuff from the last few years; all of it. Not a single trace of their Instagrams had any pictures of them in bikinis, dresses, workout clothes, or selfies. Just small pictures of streets, animals, and stuffed animals.
I knew my sisters like I knew the lyrics to my favorite songs, and I knew they were social butterflies to the nth degree. Like most people in high school and college, they thrived on sharing pictures of themselves and getting all kinds of attention. The lack of any pictures on either social media site screamed that dad was blocking all access to the internet, all likely in an attempt to make sure they didn't rat him out.
For all I knew, Artemis didn't even use her phone anymore since being locked in the house for long hours and banned from wearing any clothes at all. No wonder she didn't inform anyone I was coming home.
In any event, after I logged out of the internet, I grabbed a printed copy of my resumé and followed Nicole out the door. We walked down the block to the coffee shop and saw that it was packed. We waited for a solid twenty minutes before asking to speak with someone who handled hirings and gave them our resumés.
Instantly, the barista, a woman who looked to be around 30, with jet black hair and silver-blue eyes, gave us a desperate smile and skimmed over our resumés for seven seconds before handing them back to us and saying in a loud tone, "You're hired, both of you! Now get back here and grab an apron, we're swamped!"
We did as we were told and quickly got to work. I grabbed a menu and mentally scanned it into my memory, reading everything and memorizing it within a few short minutes. After that, I went to stand next to the barista and took orders, while Nicole nudged someone who was making coffee and started learning how to do what.
Within three hours, the crowd slowly dispersed until there were only a handful of people left. By that time, Nicole had learned how to make seven different types of coffee-related drinks, and I had washed five thousand dishes, all the while listing an endless combination of drink orders.
At the end of another two hours, the barista thanked us for our help, gave us a wad of cash, and said, "If this is how you guys handle the first day with no experience, I am more than willing to have you guys here all the time! How about we do a real interview?"
We both agreed and sat down. The barista introduced herself as Diana, and we had a lengthy conversation about our lack of experience but were able to retain information and memorize procedures. Diane asked why we weren't looking for a job in the corporate world, to which I replied that we had just moved into an apartment and couldn't afford food at the time, so we needed a quick job to hold us over until we got a big-paying job.
Diana smiled and said, "Well, until you get a job that pays more, I'm more than happy to keep you guys on. I just have one question!"
"What's that?" I asked.
"Are you guys exclusive?" Diana asked, smirking.
Nicole and I looked at each other, "We're engaged, and I don't think it's wise to sleep with your boss, especially after just getting hired!" Nicole said, "But the offer was nice, and if we end up leaving before we get married, we might consider it."
Over the next few days, our routine was pretty standard. We woke up, went out for a run around the block, went back to our new apartment, fucked in the shower, then went to work at the coffee shop. We worked for six to eight hours each day, taking lunch breaks where Diana made us sandwiches, soup, or salads, and gave us what she called the "Engaged Couple" special: Work long hours and get a plate of food for free.
As for our war against my dad, we had little to no contact with my mom and sisters since we moved in. The burner phone stayed quiet ever since mom had left, and after I restored my sisters to my contacts list, I tried calling them each once per day. But, to my surprise, not a single person picked up. That only reinforced my thought that dad was limiting their access to their phones and other devices.
It was two weeks when I received a call from anyone. I was working a shift in the back when my locker started making noise. Knowing my phone was there, I took a fifteen-minute break, grabbed my phone, and went out back near the dumpsters.
"Hello?" I said, switching the call on.
