Author's Note: Daddy-daughter, incest. Not your kink? Look elsewhere.
This one is a two-parter.
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"What's so hard to understand, Michael!?"
Staying over for a couple weeks at your parents house was supposed to be one of those things were you formed some cherished memories, and did some fun things with your family.
The timing wasn't great, but getting two weeks in a row off from work wasn't something that happened everyday, so Brittany had taken the chance.
Lying awake in bed at three in the morning, however, she was flinching and wondering how in the hell she had ever managed to get to sleep with walls as thin as these ones, back when she lived here.
"You! You, Henrietta, you're bloody hard to understand."
Not because of the sound of her parents re-enacting how she was conceived, but because it sounded like it was a miracle that the two of them ever let that event actually take place.
She also had some serious questions about how the neighbours hadn't complained yet. Or called in a police report that they thought a murder might be imminent.
"Stop fucking yelling! You'll wake Brittany!" Her mother screamed at the top of her lungs.
Her father's response was more of an indistinct murmur, but he was sounding just as upset as her mum. She might be hearing them yelling, but she wasn't sure what the fight was about. She was mostly just hoping that it wasn't something that she had caused.
She hadn't been woken up by the fight. She'd never got a chance to actually go to sleep before it started, five hours ago.
Things had been a little bit tense when she'd arrived at the house. She'd figured that was just her parents, being her parents. It seemed like that had been the blissful hope of the ignorant.
"Michael!..."
Brittany missed what her mother said next, which was nice. Maybe the two were settling down, and she wouldn't need to regret forgetting her noise-cancelling headphones for this particular trip.
She did have a car show playing on her tablet, to try and distract her from it. One of her favourites, which was all about the mechanics, rather than just a complete marketing stunt. Where you could judge how the person's day was going by how much grease was on their hands.
"You can't tell me what to do, Michael! I have a date this Saturday, and I'm staying overnight!" Her mother yelled, sounding incensed, "At least, then, one of us will be having sex! Now, shut up! That's the last we're speaking about this!"
Brittany sat up and spun her head to stare at the blank wall, "What... The fuck?"
"If that's it, then that's it. But don't pretend this is about broadening both our horizons." Her father's muffled voice came back, "If you want rid of me, then -"
"I don't want a divorce, you idiot! This is about making the fucking marriage work, not about throwing it in the trash!" Her mother sounded exasperated, "I still love you. I just need more than... This."
Brittany struggled to keep breathing, feeling somewhere between utterly bewildered, and utterly pissed off. Part of her wanted to march next door into the bedroom and slap her mother to the floor. A very large part of her.
How could her mother even dare to suggest that they start swinging, if that wasn't something in her dad's wheelhouse? Except, this was so much worse than that. Her mum said it was about saving their marriage... But before she'd talked her dad into accepting the idea, she'd gone out and got a damn date!
The real worst part of it, though, was that she'd booked the date on Saturday.
Brittany had been uncertain about coming home, and expecting things would be awkward, because of the timing. She knew she'd be spending the coming weekend around the place, and she'd thought that her parents would want a little time alone, just the two of them. She'd even booked herself a dinner at a fancy restaurant, so that she wouldn't be around the house, that Saturday.
"I'm not doing... This." Her father's voice was firm, and angry. If she hadn't heard that same tone, if she were a stranger, then Brittany would assume that he was just furious with her mother.
However, she did know that voice. It was the same tone he'd used when she'd seriously screwed up. It was the tone of voice he'd used when he'd caught her smoking. The tone of voice she'd heard when one of her friends suggested she join them to take a casual shift at a strip club. The voice he'd used when she'd nicked his credit card to buy something small.
The mistakes of her youth, that she was mortified to remember.
He'd never used that tone when something dangerous had happened. He hadn't been angry when she crashed the car. He hadn't yelled when she called because a boyfriend wanted something she wasn't ready for. Well, not at her. Young asshole had been put in his place.
That voice... That voice wasn't actually angry.
He might sound pissed as hell at her mother, right now, but Brittany knew it was taking absolutely everything he had not to break down and fall apart. That was the man wearing a bear costume so that nobody could see his face.
"I don't care what you do. Hire a prostitute for all I care." Her mother snapped.
Brittany felt tears well up in her eyes, unable to believe that this was where her parents were at. She loved them both. They had always, always, been there for her, and now... Now, apparently, they... Her mum said she didn't hate her dad.
She wanted to believe that. She really wanted to believe this was some kind of misguided thing. The problem was, she couldn't. Her mum just didn't want to admit that things were over between the two of them. Couldn't admit that she wanted to be selfish and start over.
Her parents had got married young, she knew. There was no secret about it. Her mum's photos and wedding dress featured a little bump that they had ended up calling Brittany.
There hadn't been a chance for either of them to explore, and their respective families hadn't given them a choice in it. The two had needed help and support, to raise a kid, and they had got that by tying the knot.
Her tears stopped threatening, drying as her jaw went solid. If her mum was determined to save their marriage, and couldn't see how she was hurting her dad by it, then she'd give her a taste of her own medicine. If there was one thing that she had in common with her mum, it was jealousy.
Her mum said she didn't care if her dad got himself a prostitute? She'd damn well give her one! Then the bitch would take a minute to think about how lucky she was.
Brittany dropped back onto her pillow and grabbed her tablet, closing her show and pulling up her favourite clothing store.
They had all kinds of crazy things. The store was where she bought lots of normal things. Dresses for dates, and parties. Stuff that she'd worn at beach houses, and work dinners. That was the part she was more familiar with.
She'd seen their ads though, and suggested items, and she knew that they had a cosplay department.
Brittany had actually been to a couple of comic book conventions. She'd seen and adored some of the outfits at the place, but she'd been completely grossed out to learn that a lot of them were actually callgirls.
It wasn't illegal, but she wasn't comfortable with it. The guys fawned all over them, and a lot of them took the kind of liberties that deserved a swift knee to the nuts. The girls took all that in stride, and turned around to offer a price to the highest bidder.
Sex workers deserved not to be groped, of course. That wasn't really what grossed Brittany out. It was the highest bidder. Money won out, in the end. Cosplay felt like it should be someone's passion project. Not another advertising billboard. If you had to connect it with sex work, why couldn't they choose the nicest guys as clients? Not just the dicks with deep pockets.
She shook the thoughts off. She was just finding things to be annoyed about. She was in a bad mood because her mother was hurting her dad, and she wasn't coming up with any decent reason why.
She just didn't understand the woman.
The entire first page of results under cosplay, were all the same kind of thing. They were dresses, and they were black and white. Some of them were smooth, some of them were silk. Others were embroidered or ruffled. Some had zero visible cleavage, and other pulled so far down that you could see the model's belly button.
All of those dresses had exactly one thing in common. Every single one of them was a maid's dress.
Brittany hesitated, flushing. She knew it was her idea to come across as a little bit slutty. She was stepping over all of the unspoken boundaries, because they shouldn't need to be said out loud. She needed to make her mum angry and jealous to make her pull her head in.
Being subtle about it, wasn't going to work. Firstly, because she seriously doubted her dad was going to buy into it. He wasn't going to ogle and stare at his only daughter. If anything, he was probably going to tell her that he was disappointed, because he was going to work out what she was trying to do.
She could already hear him, telling her that it was childish. That just because she was an adult, didn't give her the right to throw a temper tantrum and act out. That it was a problem for him to solve with her mother, and she should grow up and act more mature.
Brittany's jaw tightened again, as she could also imagine clearly her mother accusing her dad of being a lecherous pig, even though he didn't have a damn thing to do with this. Her mum dared to tell him off, for even noticing another woman, when she arranged in secret to date other people?
Her mum was a skank, a cheat, and a... Cunt!
Brittany added one of the maid's outfits to the checkout, fully intending to just buy it, then and there. The site, however, immediately popped up with another suggestion.
She stared at it for a minute, her face getting redder and redder, as all kinds of thoughts ran around inside her head. Thoughts that started off innocently enough, and quickly ran to fantasyland and back, again.
Her mum had told her dad, that she didn't care.
Well... This was one way to make the woman sit up and pay attention.
Brittany nervously and guiltily scratched at the itchy spot in the middle of her chest, winced, and then added the suggestion to her basket. Before she could chicken out, she moved to the checkout and made sure to get next day delivery.
When the site popped up telling her that the purchase had gone through fine, her face went redder and she swallowed. Feeling it dawning on her, exactly what she'd just decided to do in the heat of the moment.
At least the dresses were cute, because she really didn't think she actually had what it took to wear them. Not even if it were just her and her dad in the house. Especially not if it was just the two of them.
