A week had passed since Gardenia's funeral. Though the wound of loss was still fresh for the family, Rose, Lily, and Iris were quick to try and fill the vacancy that their late mother left behind as far as her old responsibilities in the house went.
Granted the division of labor was hardly equal given Lily seemed too busy "coping" in the form of her screwing anything with male parts that fell into her honey traps. Iris tried to overcompensate to make up for her twin's shortcomings, but Rose instead insisted on taking most if not all of the day-to-day chores and maintenance of the house, encouraging her younger sisters to just relax and live freely in their youth.
Gregor on the other hand had effectively stalled in place since his wife's passing. He still plugged away at his job at the advertising firm, but his mind and body were effectively running on autopilot as he felt his soul wither and die on the vine, starved of the sun and rain that Gardenia once gave him.
Nearly every night he tried to drink himself to numbness or death, whichever came first. But even that was a fruitless struggle since he had always had a naturally strong tolerance to alcohol, and now he could not even get a buzz anymore. His own coping mechanism had run dry...
As he was about to descend downstairs for his nightly self-mutilation, his eyes caught sight of a framed picture adjacent to his bedroom door. A family vacation photo of him, Gardenia, and his flowerful daughters on the dock of their remote island lake house.
He was sullen in the picture for having caught no fish that day, but Gardenia had tried to cheer him up by having her and his daughters stand underneath the tall and empty trophy fish rack for the photo, followed by her claiming that they were all his trophy catches that he could take pride in. But her efforts did not lift his spirits then, and looking back at the memory, certainly not now. Especially knowing he forever lost one of those "trophies" in his life.
He had just brushed off an old wine bottle that took him late into the night to finish and left him with only a headache for his trouble. He was alone at the dark kitchen table starring into the void like a condemned man waiting for the world to end. He took another sip from his glass despite knowing full well it was as empty as he himself was.
But in a change from his nightly routine of self-pity and self-destruction, Gregor heard footsteps approaching him in the dark. With the flick of a light switch followed by a headache from the glare of the light, Gregor saw his 20-year-old daughter Rose enter the kitchen.
She was wearing her deep red negligee as her nightwear, but thanks to the nearly transparent silky material it was made from, her red bra and panties were effectively visible to anyone who looked hard enough. Even though it was to only be worn in the privacy of their own house, Gregor still found the attire left far too little to the imagination. It took a moment for him to process the image of his half naked daughter, but was quick to shift from his posture of self-pity to being judgmental.
"Shouldn't you be in bed Rose? It's not healthy for you to be up this late." Gregor stated in Dad mode. However his parental authority was severely undercut by him clutching his skull from the alcohol-induced headache.
Rose was quick to retort back with a far less judgy tone. "No more so than getting drunk at three in the morning. You really need to take better care of yourself not just for your sake, but ours. I happily took on all of Mom's roles and responsibilities thinking you would be able to keep on going as you were before. But there's not much a point to me doing so if you won't let yourself be happy again." Rose spoke, trying to nudge her father in the right direction.
But Gregor was not in a receptive mood to his eldest daughter for questioning his lifestyle when she herself seemed weirdly too comfortable walking around in such a state of undress. Gregor was slow to retaliate, but promptly barked back. "You don't understand what it's like to truly lose someone special. She filled me in ways you never will be able to." Gregor said visually upset as he remembered all the carnal BDSM moments he shared with his wife and slave. "Gardenia was more than just a mother to you, or a wife to me. She was truly perfect, and you cannot replace all that she did for me."
Gregor then promptly planted his head on the table having exhausted his mental energy retorting at his daughter for not understanding the true depth of his loss. But Rose seemed undeterred by this as she approached him in his chair from behind and began kneading her hands into his shoulders. In truth, the massage felt great, or at the very least it felt nice having female touch again regardless of who it came from.
And the fact that Rose was Gardenia's spitting image at her age was certainly a bonus. But he knew he was as close as he would come to the kind of intimate affection that he really needed, and he would rather not have a taste if he knew he was not allowed the full plate.
"That's enough Rose. I appreciate your attempts to console me, but like I said, you can't fill the ro..." Gregor started as he tried to stand up from the chair only to be suddenly cut off by Rose when she swiftly did a physical 180 as she swung her body around the chair and plopped herself right on his lap, face to face, pinning him to the chair, her hands once again on his shoulders.
Her eyes were equal parts serious and affectionate, but not in the way a daughter should look at her father. "What are you..." Gregor tried to speak again only for Rose to grab one of his hands and place it over her barely clothed bosom. Her intentions were crystal clear.
"What if I told you I could fill even that particular role Mom filled for you? I know you are starved for the erotic love Mom once gave you, and I am more than willing to offer my body and soul to you if it means it will bring you back to life." Rose said with great concern and with a tinge of sensual interest as she hugged him with her breasts pressed against Gregor's chest and she pressed her crotch against his.
Gregor was baffled and in a mental haze from the outrageous proposition his daughter had made, but he was clear-minded enough to realize the cost of such a suggestion. "Rose I don't want you to feel you have to sacrifice yourself just to save me." Gregor responded. "You have a whole future ahead of you, and you should feel free to pick your own mate rather than force yourself to settle..." but before Gregor could continue, Rose shot him another look that was far more serious and a little irritated.
"I'm not sacrificing anything! I am choosing you as my husband of my own free will, and I have always chosen you in my heart! What's wrong with a daughter seeing her father as her soulmate!?" Rose said on the verge of tears having just borne her soul to him. Gregor tried to compose himself upon hearing such a taboo confession of love, but he was a deer in headlights.
"Mom knew I loved you as a man, but while she understood my feelings, she did not accept them, and was adamant that I needed to keep them to myself for the sake of her marriage and the health of our family. It wasn't even until her final weeks of life that she finally accepted my love for you. That life was too short to live with regrets. And with Mom now gone I thought...maybe I could be your new wife?"
Gregor was thrown for a loop by the revelation. And it made Gardenia's claim that he would "find someone sooner than he thought" carry a different weight. 'Did Gardenia plan this? Did she really give Rose permission to pursue me once she passed?' Gregor thought to himself, wondering if this was all just hearsay from Rose. But one thing he was certain of was that Rose was truly over the moon in love with him, and he felt torn between his paternal duty and his own starving heart.
"I know you secretly want me too." Rose said playfully. "You would not be hard right now if this wasn't what you wanted." she said alluding to the boner he had developed that she felt pressed right up against her red panties and aroused pussy. But Gregor was quick to sit himself up upon being called out on his own arousal.
He grabbed Rose's body in hand in the process, and did his own 180 spin until he was on his feet, and Rose was pushed down into the chair in the same position he was just in. He knew he had to dissuade her, yet the blood was not rushing out of his penis or his perverted mind.
"Your mother was my perverted little bondage slave. A toy I broke with my will and dominant power. Are you really prepared to surrender yourself fully to me your freedom and very soul?" Gregor said half with intention to scare her off, and half serious. Rose was not fazed, but instead determined.
"Yes. If it means you will see me as your new wife and soulmate, I am determined to sacrifice all that I have if it means I will receive your love. Make me your slave, your toy, your pet. So long as you see me as your lover, I will even strive to become someone who can surpass Mom in your heart." Rose responded with finality and confidence as she looked up at her father, and hopefully future spouse.
Gregor was trembling with equal parts uneasiness and excitement at his daughter's bold declaration, but he knew he had to test Rose's resolve, and perhaps more importantly, his own. He walked across the kitchen to an often-forgotten junk drawer and revealed the contents to be dozens of rolls of white vet wrap.
Officially it was claimed that the many clingy medical rolls were for wound care and a more flexible alternative to duct tape for various house projects, but in reality it was for improvised bondage sessions between Gregor and Gardenia no thanks to its versatile use in BDSM play and innocuous appearance otherwise. With several rolls in hand, he reapproached Rose in the chair.
"Alright then..." Gregor said hesitantly. "If you're so serious then put your arms together behind the chair, hands and fingers together pointing to the floor." Rose did so obediently with a smile as Gregor began wrapping his eldest daughter's arms together, gradually working his way downward towards her hands, replacing the roll when needed. He took careful care to bind Rose's hands together into useless balls with the clingy wrap until he had completed the monoglove armbinder, rendering Rose's upper limbs immobile and useless to her.
