Note: This story contains references to BDSM, incest, and not-completely-consensual sexual submission. The story also includes several character's growing interest in lesbian sex. All characters are at least 18 years of age. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
***
HOT
I hate my mama.
I know, I know. Every girl has that thought at least once as a teenager.
But it's been years and I still feel the same way.
At first, I thought it was because she was too strict-her wholesome southern charm masking a true taskmistress. Now she's indifferent, and honestly, I hate her indifference more.
As I started my senior year in the August heat of Kingsland, I finally puzzled it out: It's how she treats daddy. She's a taskmistress and indifferent with him. Always taking what she needs and not caring about him.
Daddy's been a maintenance technician for a hospital over in Brunswick since I can remember. With his long hours and demanding job, you'd think mama could at least feign a pleasantry when he gets home from work. It's the least she could do after spending her day sluggishly sipping sweet tea.
But I suppose that's too much to ask.
Seems to be the thing around here. We all live in our little bungalows growing up with traditions that most areas of Georgia moved on from years ago.
Before you go getting the wrong idea, it's the tradition of how a family functions that I'm talking about. Straight out of Mad Men without the glamour of New York City. But with that special southern characteristic-women really do run everything around here.
I didn't like it one bit.
In school, they teach us about equality and then I come home to...this. Every day.
It kinda messes with your head.
But I was determined to change it. To leave our home a better place, at least for daddy, before I went off to college.
LABOR DAY
"Hi daddy, how was your day?"
"Good, sweetie. How was your day?"
Daddy looked really tired which was no way for a man in his 30s to look.
"Is your mama home, I need to go fix our truck after supper?"
"She's over at the neighbors. I made you dinner."
"Thank you."
This was nothing special since I had been cooking dinner for the last four or five years. But now, I had a plan to change our circumstances, and making dinner was part of it.
"Here's your favorite crawfish jambalaya."
"Thank you! Is this a special day?"
"Only the best for you, daddy."
"I appreciate it."
"We had a test today in biology." I was determined to keep up the banter between us so he wouldn't become depressed that mama wasn't around.
"Already? You just started back to school a few weeks ago."
"Our teachers are really working us hard to get us ready for college, just like last year. This was human anatomy."
"I don't even want to know."
"Oh daddy, it's muscles and bones, not sex ed," I teased.
After sitting down at our little table, daddy paused. "I really don't want to think about you going away to college."
"Let's not think about it. We have the whole year and who knows, I may end up nearby."
"Whatever you think is best."
See what I mean. Women run our families.
--
It was late when daddy finished the truck and mama was just getting home.
"Jessica? Jess?! Where's supper?"
"It was three hours ago, mama."
"Don't you take that tone with me! Warm me up a plate of what you made for your daddy."
I didn't feel like having another argument with mama, so I just did as she asked.
Besides, the faster I got it done, the sooner I could be snuggling with daddy while we watched the TV together. This had been our family routine for years. Have dinner, do chores, and then watch TV together. Mama in her favorite chair and daddy and I snuggling together on the couch under one of grandma's afghans.
I know what you're thinking. It's 90 degrees outside and we're under an afghan. Mama liked the house cold and daddy didn't argue. I asked her "why" once but she just told me to mind my own business.
As the show wore on, I started messaging daddy's shoulder.
"You don't have to do that baby girl." He moved just a bit away from me.
"You said you were sore from work; I'm just trying to help."
Mama gave us a quick glance and announced that it was time to go to bed.
Which meant it was time for daddy to join her in bed. She needed to take some more from him.
CREEPING
Like all daughters, I had always been curious about their lovemaking since I discovered what that actually meant. Since then, I made it a point to creep on mama and daddy as much as possible. Tonight was no different from the last few weeks when I had started videoing them.
Despite my feelings toward mama, it was beautiful watching her not-quite southern girl-next-door looks transform into a hot woman who took whatever she needed. It was quite violent and she was very verbal about everything, not caring that every sound carried through the thin walls of our small home. Meanwhile, daddy said nothing as she loudly rode him to her multiple climaxes.
Comparing the videos with my girlfriends, who were doing the same thing, had become part of our collective education at lunchtime. I was thankful, because until I saw their videos, I had no idea that there were other positions besides what I learned was called "cowgirl." That's apparently the only thing mama wanted and she didn't care if that worked out for daddy. On most nights, my girlfriends agreed that it didn't seem to work out for him.
"See how he goes into the bathroom?" Chrissy asked.
"Yes."
"He's done that on almost every video you've shown us. He's going in there to finish himself off."
Although we had grown up together in our small town, Chrissy always seemed to know a lot more than me. More than all of us, really.
"To masturbate?" I was embarrassed to ask but also curious.
"Yes!" Your mom is doing nothing for him.
More of my plan clicked into place in my mind.
"Ooohh. You look just like your mama!" Chrissy exclaimed after watching my latest video over again.
"Thanks. I think..."
"...she's so beautiful. I meant it as a compliment Jess!"
Since I had started hating mama, I prided myself on being the nice girl in our home, but I did feel a bit of darkness creep in after Chrissy's compliment.
"Will you go shopping with me after school, Chrissy?"
"Yes! Wait, is it because I have a car?" she pouted.
"Of course not, I want your opinion on a dress I want to buy." Chrissy's experience also extended to her fashion sense. And she also had a car.
After school, Chrissy drove us to Meo's Suite in St. Simmons. It didn't take me long to find the dress. It was an Olivaceous slit square-neck tank dress. In black. A lot to say, but I loved the way it hugged my breasts and my hips. It was nice and short with a slit up the left side and zipper in the back.
Chrissy said it made me look like I was in my 20s.
Perfect!
We left and drove to the South Dunes Picnic Area on Jekyll Island, our usual after-school spot. It's there that we "practiced."
When Chrissy first got her car a few years ago we had thoroughly explored Jekyll Island enjoying the ocean waves crashing against the beach as we roamed the island to find the perfect spot. Practice was what we did to learn what we needed to know about boys. It started out as kissing which was how we quickly discovered that we preferred girls over boys.
"Lying on the isolated beach with our dresses undone, Chrissy leaned over and whispered: you're going to fuck your daddy, aren't you?"
