Chapter 3
My Incest Wedding
When Mom and Daddy bought the house fifteen years ago they claimed that one of the appealing features for them was the gigantic basement being a ready made bomb shelter. The basement ceiling is reinforced with concrete slabs (which soundproof it), there are four king size beds that fold out from the walls, two on each side, two enclosed bathrooms (Mom and Daddy put in hot tubs), an open kitchen with cabinets and a fireplace with a wood stove.. For all its bomb shelter potential, however, the selling point wasn't that. It was that the basement would be just the thing for family orgies.
I started to learn this first hand when Mrs. Johnson tugged me into the house to see my mother. You could hear the sounds of the party, which meant one or more of the basement doors had been left open. We have two doors to the basement, one in the back entryway and one, weirdly, in the library. Mrs. Johnson and I found Mom in the kitchen, all dressed up.
"Where have you been!?," she snapped.
"What in heck is going on, Mom? I was at school. I tried out for the chess club."
"Oh, for God's sake! I told you this morning to come home right after school. You didn't answer your cell either. Did you get my message."
Hmmm, I remembered she told me to come home. I decided not to admit I also forgot my phone, and left it in my locker. I did have OTHER things on my mind.
"Well, okay. You're here. Um, Sally, why don't you go downstairs. Elle and I will be down....as soon as we can."
When we were alone, Mom sat me down at the table and explained things, amazing things. I soon had tears running down my cheeks and chills running up my spine. This was my "wedding day", the day I "married" the family that I had always been an integral part of but not "wedded" to. There would be a ceremony for me as the "bride", then the marriage would be consummated. Mom filled in some basic details, including that my marriage was mandatory and a couple of lesser details, like how they managed to maintain the Blake family name in spite of all the marriages to men from other families, Dad's for instance. When I could get myself to speak, I reminded her she had said she only "hoped" I would become a full member of the group and now she was saying I didn't have a choice, that it was mandatory. I stopped crying. I was angry.
"Well, I do have a choice. You can't make me do anything, MOTHER!"
"Shhhh, don't upset yourself, Elle. You don't have a choice. I'm sorry. I should have come right with it instead of trying to break the news to you gradually. Once you started fucking Grandpa it was unacceptable not to induct you into the family, our incest family. Your father understood, even if he didn't like it."
"Well, I don't understand, and I didn't fuck Grandpa, he fucked me!"
"Oh, please. You all but asked him to fuck you, and then you did ask. Incest in this family is a big time operation, Elle. We have rules and procedures. We can't have independent contractors running around doing God know's what. If you want sex with your relatives you'll do it our way, under our umbrella."
I was crying again. "I still have a choice. I don't have to MARRY everyone! I could walk right out of this house and not come back!"
"You won't," she said, gently.
"How do you know?!!"
"Because you don't have it in you to leave your family. It is ingrained in you, dear. Ingrained."
Now, besides being angry and upset, I was curious. "How is it ingrained?"
"Never mind. It just is. Stop arguing. I'm going to get your bridal things and tell people we'll be down shortly.When I get back, I want to see you with all your clothes off."
She returned carrying a wash cloth, towel, a plastic baggy with makeup stuff, dress slippers and a white bridal veil. I was on my bare feet in the middle of the kitchen. My clothes made a pile on the floor. In the few minutes she had been gone I realized this was not one of those cases of me being a devilish kid, which I was known for and usually got away with. This was serious. I really didn't have a choice. I was going to obey and I knew it. This was Family with a capital "F", and it seemed I was ingrained.
Mom gave me a motherly smile.
"Good girl, " she said. "We don't have time for a proper bath. We'll just scrub you up a bit."
She wet the wash cloth at the sink, then did my face and ears, my boobs, my cunt, my bottom and thighs, and dried me with the towel. I hoped my cunt wasn't showing any signs of recent activity. Then she shocked me by undertaking some activity herself.
"So pretty," she sighed and put a finger in my slit. She sluiced it up and down, not going in my hole but that was plenty. I gasped. "Mom!"
She laughed. "All right."
She said, "Do you know you and I have the same pussy hair?" She meant a blonde tuft at the top and sparse borders of silky strands along the slit which she brushed now with her forefinger to spruce them up and make them look nice for my wedding.
"I've seen you, Mom, like when you're putting on a swimsuit."
She grinned. "You'll be seeing me more often from now on. Your Uncle Dave will be thrilled."
"Why will he be thrilled?"
"He always talks about my pussy hair."
"I can't believe Dad really doesn't' mind."
"He's learned to live with it. The compensation is more than ample, Elle."
I started to cry again, not because of her. "I wish Daddy wouldn't screw me."
"Sadly, so does he."
Well, maybe he won't, I thought to myself but I didn't say it. Mom put on my lipstick, which was very bright red, rouge and eye shadow. She brushed my hair. She helped me step into the white slippers that had little jewels on them and then she put on the bridal veil. It was a beautiful veil, falling all the way to my bare bottom. Along with the slippers it was all I had on. Mom took me by the hand and we went to the basement door and down the stairs. Aunt Meg was sitting on the bottom chair, waiting. When she saw us, she got up and announced our arrival and two seconds later music came one, a flute and violin recording of Paschelbel's's Canon.
Daddy was there when I stepped into the room. Mom had told me what to expect but it was stunning just the same. The men were dressed alike, in formal white shirts cut short and tucked into purple cumberbuns around their stomachs, black bow ties, black socks, black shoes, and that was it. A quick glance told me that maybe half of them had erections. Daddy was in the half that didn't, thank goodness. The women were dressed like Mom, in nice dresses, the kind you would see at a normal wedding. There was a skinny red carpet down the center of the room, ending at a wood lectern that had book on it. People would be standing for my wedding because all the furniture was by the walls except for an Ottoman in red velvet I didn't remember seeing there before, all by itself in the center of the room just off the carpet I would be walking on in Daddy's arm.
"Hello, sweetheart, you look lovely," Daddy said.