Author: Lizard69 Title: Nuclear Family Part: Complete Summary: Sooner or later, blowups happen. Keywords: Mdom Mf Incest This is a work of fiction. If you have trouble with the boundary between fact and fantasy, don't read it. If the story codes following the title freak you out, don't read it. If I mis-coded drop me a note through the author email link at ASSTR. Do not under any circumstances forward this file to anyone that hasn't specifically requested it. In case you haven't figured it out yet this is intended as *adult* entertainment. Do not allow it to be accessed by minors. If you have inadvertently downloaded it in a jurisdiction where such material isn't legal please delete it immediately. Do not re-post in whole or in part without this notice. Do not repost on any "for profit" site without my specific written permission. Copyright 2017 by Lizard69. Nuclear Family By Lizard69 Mdom Mf Incest Margaret dished up a load of eggs and hash browns wishing once again that she could get her husband to take an interest in watching his cholesterol. As she settled into a chair it dawned on her that having Albert and their twelve year old daughter Melissa at the kitchen table for breakfast wasn't that much different from the way each day had started at her own parents house twenty years before. Dad skimming the morning paper while clogging his arteries, daughter working on a bowel of cold cereal, mom spending more time fussing over what the others ate than feeding herself. If Lissa seemed more moody and withdrawn that Margaret could remember being at that age, well, Margaret never had to cope with having a working mom. Speaking of which, "Are you going to eat that cereal or just beat it to death with a spoon?" Lissa stopped, sat for a long moment as if making up her mind, then said, more to the table top than anyone seated around it; "Daddy's fucking me." Her daughter sat motionless. Her husband calmly set down his coffee, refolded the paper, and picked it up to take another sip. Margaret wondered briefly if this is what it felt like to lose your mind. "Albert? Hon? Did I just hear what I think I heard? It isn't... She can't be serious... Can she?" "As soon as I finish this article I'm going to call the office and try to give them whatever instructions they need to get along without me today. I would suggest you call your own employer and the school as well." "Uh, dad? I can't miss school today. I've got semester exams in both math and history." "Then you picked an extremely poor time to drop your little verbal bombshell. I don't wish to frighten or intimidate you but right now your skinny little butt is at ground zero and none of us is going anywhere until we have a chance to assess the size of the mushroom cloud and the intensity of the fallout. It would be helpful if you clear the table while we're on the phone." The calls they made weren't normal. It was unusual for any of them to miss a day, unheard of for all three to take unscheduled time off at once. Fortunately, the people they called were unaware of the full scope of the problem. The conversations were close enough to familiar territory to let them mentally catch their breath before they were once again seated across from each other. "Margaret? You asked me if she's serious. I can't tell you precisely how serious Lissa is, but the accusation she has made is about as serious as it gets. Depending on who hears it and what they do it could cost me, in no particular order, my business, our marriage, our home, my reputation, everything we've saved and years of my life behind bars. The accusation alone can do this whether anything is proved or not. So, our darling daughter has either said far too much or not nearly enough. I expect her to either apologize for a misguided attempt to inject a massive dose of drama into our lives, or provide enough additional details to convince a reasonable person that she has not lost her mind." "What details did you have in mind, daddy dear?" "You said, 'daddy's fucking me', at a time and place where I was quite obviously doing no such thing. That's understandable. A reasonable person would assume you were talking about a series of past experiences that you expected to continue into future events. Start at the beginning, take the time and make the effort to say everything you have to say, then stop." "Margaret? You probably feel as though you are already receiving too much information. While I sympathize there is little I can do to soften the impact. I will not not attempt to silence her with threats of violence or offers of bribes. Either would be a temporary solution at best, and would have long term consequences far worse than letting her talk. We'll have to let her tell it from the beginning." "But I *can't*! I don't know when it began! I was too little!" "Then start with the most recent and work back. It should still be fresh in your memory. You certainly haven't had time to mature much." "Ya think? Since yesterday? You let the front door close behind me, so at least the friends I walk home from school with didn't see anything. I guess I should be thankful for small favors." "...and then?" "You fucked me, just like all the other times." "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a lot more specific. 'Like all the other times', isn't descriptive enough for a police report. I would prefer the situation not be brought to their attention but that's out of my hands now. What exactly happened after the door closed?" "You made me undress." "How did I do this? Did I threaten you with violence? Loss of privileges?" "Oh all right, you asked me! You also asked me to clear the dishes just now. Does that mean I had a choice?" "An interesting question, we'll have to discuss it if we remain together. For now let's not get side tracked. You undressed. Completely? "Except for knee socks, you usually want me to keep those on." "I've asked you to wear some item of apparel on several occasions. Far more often I've told you that I find you more sexually attractive wearing something rather than completely nude. While I didn't express a preference this time, you considered my past preferences and chose to display yourself in a manner I would find more attractive. And then?" "You fucked me." "Full intercourse? Vaginal?" "And my mouth. And my bottom. Right there in the front hall. You don't always make me do it the minute I get home. I don't have to do everything every time. You rarely keep your hands off me for more than two or three days in a row." "Did you reach an orgasm?" "What?!" "Was it physically pleasurable? Did you cum? All right, the way you're blushing is enough of an answer, I withdraw the question. How long has this been going on?" "Everything? Since I was ten. My bottom when I turned eight. I can't remember a time you didn't cum in my mouth whenever you felt like it." "So it's safe to say you could provide enough detail to press charges, that is names, dates, places for at least ten occasions. This would be presented to the jury against a life long background of incestuous sexual activity with your father. Why?" "Why do you do it? If you don't know, how should I?" "No. Why make your history of incest a matter of public record, destroying the only home you have in the process?" "I... I haven't told the police." "Don't be deliberately obtuse You certainly didn't blurt out your morning news flash with the intention of concealing information. While you didn't dial 911 yourself, this was quite obviously a trial balloon aimed at raising a blip on law enforcement radar." "No!! Please! I swear, that's not what I wanted." "You wanted your mother to call them for you? Was it a way to get the action you desired while avoiding any responsibility for undesirable consequences?" "No! Not that." "What did you expect her to do? Say, 'that's nice dear, would you like some more toast'?" "I don't know. Something. Not that." "So with no clear plan or goals you dragged your mother into something she would be much happier knowing nothing about. To start with, I believe you owe her an apology." "I'm sorry mom, I shouldn't have done that." "That's all right hon. Part of growing up is learning to look before you leap. Nobody can learn without making mistakes." "Ok, I'm going to get down to the office before my assistants assist me into bankruptcy. Lissa, would you come with me as far as the car?" Much later, as they were getting ready for bed, Margaret asked him about that private conversation. "I told her the apology was a nice start but she still needed to repair the damage as much as possible. There is no way you can forget what you've learned. The best she could do is convince you that it's not a problem." "I suspected it was something along those lines. I had to be quite firm about refusing to discuss it. She reminds me so much of Joan." "Your little sister? Back when we first went steady?" "Yes, the darkest days of the dark ages. Does anyone ever escape from middle school?" "Not permanently, or completely, too much of what we later become first arrives at that age." "It's uncanny, how closely Lissa resembles Joan. Don't you think?" "The circumstances? Certainly. Physically, I'd say she's closer to my earliest memories of you." "Can I ask you something? About Joan?" "You can ask. I don't need to warn you that you may not like the answer. You were the one who chose to wall it off, refuse to let it become part of what we had together." "Was I ever really so naive? Unconsummated lust was all we had until there was a need to cover each others indiscretions. While what happened was... unfortunate, in retrospect it was also unavoidable. She took her first steps when crawling wasn't fast enough to follow her big sister. It was as much my fault as hers that when I had matured enough to need, 'private time', she no longer understood what that was. She could understand that a teenage boy in full rut wasn't quite sane, maybe not even fully human. What she couldn't grasp was that she was in the way, and in danger by being there." "When you were forced to choose between protecting her or the boy..." "I tried to do both. It should have been me. I was so ready. We'd been making out on the couch for hours. Everyone in the house was asleep. When she came in to watch the movie you went to the bathroom and I tried one last time to send her back to bed. Joan didn't see the look in your eye when you returned or the jar of Vaseline you set on the end table. "I've never discussed what happened next, with you, or for that matter, with Joan either. At least we never talked openly. She was obviously shocked when I suddenly pulled up her nightgown and began stuffing a wad of it into her mouth. Any doubts about what was going on had disappeared by the time she was face down across my lap with her panties torn off. While I'm fully aware of what you did, I didn't actually witness much of it. At first I was afraid somebody would hear. Then I was terrified that in the process of trying to keep her quiet I'd shove so much of her nightgown down her throat she would strangle. The sense of relief that flooded through me when you went limp and she was still breathing was so intense it was almost an orgasm. "I'd only begun to wonder how we could fix this, or at least hide it, when you started to whisper... things I couldn't repeat at gunpoint. My ears worked but my brain refused to interpret the sounds. I heard her whimper and felt the motion as you started moving again. The second time was longer and I couldn't understand why you didn't get up after you finished. Using the nightgown to wipe her face while trying to straighten out her hair with my free hand felt so trivial, like putting a band-aid on someone run over by a bus. What do you say to your little sister at a time like that? "Then you started moving again and I realized you still weren't finished. By that point I don't think it mattered much to Joan. I can't honestly say she was still conscious. If she was, I didn't want to know about it. She had stopped struggling. The little huffs and grunts could have been no more than mechanical reaction to your thrusting. This, thing, across my lap couldn't really be the nearly naked body of a preteen girl. One way or another, my innocent little sister was no longer in the room." "She was still conscious, but you're right, by that time there wasn't much innocence left anywhere in the room. The first time was so over the top that I didn't see how I could get in any more trouble doing it again. By the end of it, I was telling myself that since I hadn't pulled out it was at least technically a single act. I relaxed a little when the cops weren't kicking my door down at breakfast. Then I got to school and found out I still had a girlfriend. Later I'd figure out that we couldn't break up without having to admit why. I guess it was easier for you to pretend it didn't happen than pretend it didn't matter. Whatever. It kept her out of the way long enough for you to lose your own virginity. While that event wasn't as monumental as what happened with Joan, it was certainly one of our personal milestones, and infinitely more satisfying. "It was nearly three weeks before Joan interrupted another of our late night grope sessions by making us share the couch. I don't know which of us first guessed you had gone to bed rather than the bathroom or kitchen. By the time she tried to leave I knew that if I was getting any that night, it wasn't going to be with you. It's not really fair to say our second encounter established a pattern but there wasn't much evolution beyond that point. She would always try to leave though it was never more than a token attempt. Her, bunny in the headlights, submission was just a little pathetic when we all knew the bunny was playing on the road because that's where the headlights are." "Now it's Lissa's turn in the headlights?" "She's been there her entire life. It's time for her to move on to the next level." "Like Joan?" "The details will differ. I can't imagine Lissa becoming the full time sex slave of a sadistic lesbian. She's much too fond of dick. Her announcement this morning was almost like a Bar Mitzvah. 'Today I am a slut.' Next she'll find somebody interested in exploring the possibilities. At this point, a craving for daddy dick is part of who she is. It will be interesting to see how she defines the rest of her sexual identity." "Yeah... Interesting." The End