As Jordan reentered the Master Bedroom, Mommy tried to turn her head to see what Jordan was doing but couldn't. The young woman walked up behind her mother and without warning ran her fingers through the older woman's gash. Jordan smiled brightly as Mommy gasped and cringed slightly. The fingers slid smoothly over her most private parts. "Mmmm. Mommy, you are so fucking wet. You must really love this shit."
It was a statement Mommy couldn't ignore, "No ... no ... I don't, Miss Jordan."
Snickering Jordan said sarcastically, "Yet your cunt tells a different story, Mommy." Jordan continued to move her fingers over and through Mommy's most secret places almost hoping to find the slightest trace of unshaved pubic hair. Finding none the young girl praised Mommy, "Gosh, Mommy, you did a nice job." Then with a snicker she added, "It's amazing what one can do when one's properly motivated." Mommy's heart swelled with pride at her daughter's words, but remained silent. Pulling her hand from between Mommy's legs, Jordan slapped her upturned ass harshly. "Mommy, that was a compliment. It's very rude to not respond to a compliment."
"Yes, yes it is, Miss Jordan. Please forgive me. Thank you, thank you very much, Miss Jordan."
Jordan then walked to the video camera which had been recording Mommy's humiliation all evening and rechecked the focus. Satisfied, she took her daddy's journal and made herself comfortable in a large over stuffed recliner to continue her reading.
Mommy gasped audibly as Jordan dressed in her high-heeled boots and skimpy bikini walked into her range of vision. "So," Jordan smirked, "you like what you see, Mommy?"
No way could Mommy admit the truth, "Na ... no ... I don't ... Miss Jordan." Mommy's tone convinced neither herself nor her daughter.
With a smile Jordan simply responded, "We'll see, Mommy. We'll see."
The chair Jordan seated herself in was directly in Mommy's line of sight. And, while it was difficult to hold her head up, Mommy could hardly keep her eyes off of the lethal body of her young daughter. It was a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Jordan.
Jordan made herself comfortable in the recliner and began to read more of her deceased daddy's journal. Mommy was quite nervous and it showed. After several minutes Jordan looked up and asked, "The waiting is the worst isn't it Mommy?"
Mommy didn't lie, "Yes, Miss Jordan, it's the worst. Why ... why don't you just get it over with?"
"Well gees, Mommy, you have always said 'anticipation of an event is 75% of the fun'. Isn't that right, Mommy?"
"Yes, Miss Jordan," Mommy confessed as she hung her head.
"Would you wish to deny me 75% of my fun, Mommy?" Jordan enjoyed the control she felt.
"No ... no, Miss Jordan, of course not."
Jordan returned to her reading material. For ten minutes she read. The silence of the room was only occasionally broken by the teenager's giggles. Looking up again from her reading, Jordan quizzed her mommy. "Mommy, what did you call Daddy?"
Pausing just a moment to collect her thoughts, Mommy replied honestly, "He made me call him Master, Miss Jordan."
"And, what did he call you, Mommy?"
Without pause Mommy responded candidly, "He called me anything he wanted, Miss Jordan."
"Don't make me angry, Mommy."
"He called me his bitch, Miss Jordan," Mommy hoped that would be enough to appease her daughter. But she was to soon learn that Jordan wasn't easily satisfied.
"And?" Jordan prompted innocently.
"He called me his whore ... his personal whore and he called me a slut."
Jordan continued to tease her mommy. "What was Daddy's favorite name for you, Mommy?"
A lump formed in Mommy's throat making it almost impossible to speak. She had to answer the question honestly as Jordan would settle for nothing less than the truth. Yet the degrading words didn't come easily. She wanted to crawl under a rock and die as she found her tongue, "He ... he ... he called me his ... fuck toy ... Miss Jordan."
Jordan just snickered and returned to her reading. Having realized sometime ago that Mommy could hardly keep her eyes off of her youthful teenage body, Jordan spread her legs giving the older woman an unobstructed view of her barely concealed slit.
"Were you, Mommy," Jordan tormented, "were you daddy's fuck toy?"
"Ye ... yes, Miss Jordan, I was his ... fuck toy ... his cum receptacle."
After another 15 minutes of reading, Jordan asked Mommy point blank, "Why do you keep staring at my pussy, Mommy?"
"I ... I'm not, Miss Jordan."
"Yes you are, Mommy," Jordan teased, "why don't you just admit it?"
"Please, Miss Jordan, I'm not staring really I'm not."
"I'll bet you'd like to kiss my pussy wouldn't you, Mommy."
"Ohhh please, Miss Jordan, please this is so wrong."
"Yea ... I bet you're just dreaming of licking my hot hole aren't you, Mommy?"
"Nooo ... please, Miss Jordan, I ... I just couldn't do that."
Jordan jabbed again, "Daddy says in his journal that you love to tongue worship hot, throbbing pussy."
"Please, don't do this to me, Miss Jordan; please I'm your mother."
Jordan wasn't about to let up, "Was Daddy a liar, Mommy."
"No, Miss Jordan, your father was not a liar."
"Then you DO love to suck cunt?"
"That is such an ugly word, Miss Jordan. I hate it."
Jordan ignored the complaint but continued to push, "I asked you a question, CUNT."
"Yes ... yes, Miss Jordan."
"Yes what, Mommy?"
"Yes, Miss Jordan ... there I said it, Miss Jordan ... I said it now can we stop this non-sense." Mommy tried again to avoid saying the ugly words that her daughter was demanding.
"But I'm having such fun, Mommy. You don't wish to spoil my fun do you?"
"No, Miss Jordan."
"Then answer my question, Mommy."
Realizing Jordan wasn't about to be side tracked Mommy answered the best she could, "Yes, Miss Jordan, I love to suck ... pussy."
Jordan wasn't about to give an inch, "But the question was cunt, Mommy. Do you love to suck cunt."
Nearly heartbroken, the older woman answered the only way she could, "Yes, Miss Jordan, I love to suck ...," she suddenly paused for several seconds before spitting out the awful, hated word, "cunt". For better affect she then repeated the entire sentence without pausing.