***This is an incest bimbofication story, so please only read on if these themes excite you. Enjoy!***
Chapter 1: Conversation
"I think she needs to hear it from you, Jason."
The man squirmed in his seat as he sat cross legged on the bed he shared with his wife. She sat facing him with her typically intense stare as they discussed their daughter, Emily.
"I think being hard on her will only make it worse, Donna. I've never seen her like this before. Never! Never even during her worst teenaged years."
"I think that's exactly why we do need to be firm with her. I'm glad that she's had a place to come back to and that she's had some time to relax and decompress from the whole affair, but sooner or later she's going to need to get back on her feet."
Jason knew he was fighting uphill. It wasn't just that Donna was convincing and intense, but it was the fact that he actually agreed with her. He had always been somewhat of an easygoing father but it had never given him too many challenges before. At least not like this.
"So what am I supposed to say, Donna? Hey Em, you followed your dream and all it did was waste six years of your life and thousands upon thousands of dollars of our money so suck it up and get a job at Denny's?"
"Well that's not a bad start," Donna said, but her mouth was turning up into a wry grin. Jason smiled back in relief. "I'm sorry, it just breaks my heart. I know she'll be fine, but it just breaks my heart."
"You're almost taking it worse than she is," his wife said, putting her hand out to touch his knee lovingly.
"Oh no, let's not go that far. At least I'm showering."
"Yeah, I didn't expect that part," Donna said with a concerned frown. "I guess if she's going to act like a zombie, she might as well smell the part too."
"So when am I supposed to have this conversation? I'll need to think of what I'm going to say. I need to get it just right. So, maybe a month?" Jason joked. Donna wasn't having any of it.
"Tonight, Jason."
"Tonight," he sighed.
"Thank you. Seriously. I'm just tired of being the bad guy, y'know?"
Jason nodded. It was true that he let his wife play the bad cop most of the time when raising their only child. It was a role she had enjoyed at times, but he had to admit that he turned a blind eye to when it would exhaust her, not wanting to stop his role as the fun and understanding father.
"Can we at least order in to soften the blow?"
Donna laughed.
"Listen, I'm not your parent too. You can do whatever you want!"
It was true. Jason did most of the cooking anyway and both Donna and he worked comfortable jobs. It was part of the reason why all the money that Emily blew over the past half-decade didn't bother him so much. Plus, if he was really honest with himself, he felt partly responsible as well. He had always been so encouraging of her and although Donna did her part to try and instill the idea of reality and consequences, Jason had to admit that he had undermined those lessons a few times, secretly bailing Emily out of plenty of situations and always reinforcing the idea that dreams always came true as long as you believed in yourself.
Jason couldn't tell if it was better or worse that Emily was truly a gifted comic. From the first days of her high school open mics to the last show tape she had sent them from New York, Emily had gone from nervous and goofy rambling to clever, well-thought-out, and very funny sets. If she wasn't very good, he may have thought that everything worked out for the best, but in his mind she really did deserve to be famous. But becoming a successful comic seemed like it was even more difficult than becoming a Hollywood actor and after over six years, Emily had finally burnt out and given up on her dream, flying back home from New York to live in her parent's house and sit with her failures. She had spent all the money that Donna and he had set aside for her college and plenty more on top of that. She took small jobs here and there but she otherwise spent much of her time writing and performing her sets. She had built up a small and loyal fan base and for a while there it looked like she might break out, but nothing ever came from what had sounded like exciting opportunities. It was just luck of the draw sometimes and Emily had clearly been on the wrong side of a few dice rolls a few times too often.
Emily had been back living at home for nearly three months now. She had celebrated her 26th birthday there, although "celebrate" was perhaps too strong a word to use. Although Emily had been polite enough and had participated in basic chores like dishes and garbage and vacuuming, she had been a complete depressed mess the entire time. Jason had only glipsed her room once and it looked like she would have to jump from her door to the bed from how cluttered the floor was. She didn't laugh or smile or engage in conversation beyond a few words and despite his best hopes, she hadn't improved a single bit even after his insistance to Donna to just give her more time.
Now he was supposed to give her the tough love talk? To tell her that she needed to get a job and pick herself up after she had spent almost all of her adult life dedicated to a failure? He didn't know if he had it in him. He and Emily had always had a close relationship. Even while she was in New York they talked almost weekly and even were sending letters to each other for a time. He really did believe in his daughter, but he knew that a big part of life was failure, even for a pretty white girl from a relatively wealthy home.
"Well, I might as well get this over with," he said.
"Really?" Donna said with genuine shock. "Mister 'let's give her another week' is going to pull the band-aid off?"
"Yeah, yeah don't make me second-guess it," he said as he began to push himself off the bed. Donna stopped him and grabbed his face and planted a big kiss right on his lips. Even after thirty years of marriage, she still gave him butterflies.
"I love you, Jason. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," he said with a grin, but they knew each other well enough for Donna to know that her words meant a lot to him. He sighed and began his trek down two flights of stairs to visit his shutaway daughter in her basement room.
He was still in his evening comfies, so his socked feet stuck out of his dark blue sweatpants and his loose grey t-shirt bounced around his slim form. Of course, now that he had pushed past the big 5-0, even Jason and his remarkable metabolism couldn't stop the inevitable "Dad bod" from beginning to form. Donna's loving "string bean" nickname was becoming less and less accurate by the year.
Jason swore that as he walked across his finished basement - past the air hockey table and the downstairs TV nook - he could smell his daughter's room as he got closer to it. Had it really gotten so bad? He took a deep breath. He couldn't think about it any more or he would never do it. He knocked.
Nothing.
"Emily? Sweetie?" He called out and knocked again. It wasn't like her to ignore him, even in her depressed state. Then, wondering why he hadn't done this first, he pulled out his phone and texted her.
