Becoming The CO

It's getting warmer. If it keeps up it might even break the zero mark today, I thought, as I entered the key code for the big blast door.

I didn't know what had caused it to happen, but daily evidence was always there - gray snow in August; a constant "dirtiness" on everything; giant salt-water lakes hundreds of miles from the nearest ocean. Whatever had caused the change had happened 22 years earlier and had been catastrophic. The Yellowstone Caldera, the Hawaiian Islands, hell, the entire Yucatan peninsula all gone. Millions of people killed in huge volcanic eruptions. Massive tsunamis decimated millions more. The continual winter, caused by the ash and dust, had just about wiped out everything else.

Not my problem, I thought for the thousandth time, as the door swung open on its huge hinges.

It had felt good to get out and hunt. Two days of being around tears and sad faces was as much as I could take. Now that I was The CO, I was going to put a stop to it and claim my rightful place. Tonight.

I mean, he's dead... nothing we can do about it, is there? I mused as the huge door swung open wide enough to drive three trucks through. That is if trucks still ran. It was plenty wide enough for my horse drawn sledge on which rode the gutted carcass of the elk I has shot.

After stopping long enough to enter the code to close the blast door, I led my horse to the stable area, unloaded the elk carcass and went down the steps to the living area where my mother and sisters waited. Yeah, Dear Ole Mom, but not for much longer, I ruminated as I felt myself getting hard from the thought of her.

I knew that dealing with the repercussions of all that had happened had been difficult for my mother. She had been born and educated before it occurred so it had been much more traumatic for her.

Nevertheless, in reality, my mother was one of the very luck few who had survived. She had been the daughter of the Commanding Officer or CO of this place. During the years when there were still enough starving people to riot and later, when there were the roving bands of savages, she had been protected and safe. Yeah, safe and sound with Daddy, I sneered to myself.

I put my things in the storage room and went down the hall to the living area. Taking a fresh jug of Dad's – no, I immediately corrected myself – Bob's corn liquor I went and sat down in the kitchen and proceeded to take several big swallows from the jug. The liquor was very potent and made me more relaxed than I had felt since Dad – no, damn it – Bob died two days ago. I figured that if a few swallows were good a few more would be better. Then I had several more. By the time my mother entered the kitchen to prepare lunch I was drunk.

"My God, Peter just what do you think you're doing? Put that jug away and go to your room until you sleep it off, young man," my mother scolded.

I looked at her through gimlet eyes and said nothing. At twenty, I was a several inches taller than my mother, but she was still a statuesque woman. Not as thin as my sister, my mother had a lush figure and beautiful long auburn hair that went well with her light complexion and green eyes.

She couldn't have picked a worse time to start her usual ravings. The alcohol in my system had released the inhibitions that had kept my anger in check. Anger at my "father" and mother. Anger that had been brewing for the last three days.

Then she spoke the fateful words, "What would your father say!"

I leapt from my chair and screamed "Don't you dare call him my father again." Completely overcome by my anger, I seethed, "He told me, damn it. I talked to him for hour's before he died, remember? He told me everything!"

My mother let out a slight gasp, turned deathly pale and meekly asked, "what exactly did he tell you?"

Embolden by her change of demeanor, I pushed my mother against the kitchen wall, holding her there with hands on each of her shoulders. "He told me everything. He told me that my real father was your own Daddy. That you were in your Daddy's bed the day after your own mother died! He told me that after dear old Dad, you stayed in The CO's bed, only it was with dear ol' brother Bob now, wasn't it?"

"And now Maggie," I said, using my mother's given name for the first time in my life, "you're still going to be in The CO's bed." Grabbing my mother's face with my hand, I stuck my face directly in front of hers and growled "And who is The CO now, Maggie?"

"You are" Maggie murmured while keeping her eyes lowered. "And what are you?" I snarled. "I'm one of The...The... CO's women. One of your women" she stuttered, even more quietly.

Driven by my rising lust, I moved my face the remaining few inches and deeply kissed Maggie's lips as my hand moved downward from her chin to fondle one of her full round breasts. Surprisingly, Maggie didn't resist.

Still drunk enough to want to elicit some form of a fight, I moved my hand further downward and cupped her sex through the folds of her dress and said "Good. Have Megan fix lunch. You and I are going into the bedroom so that you can show me that you truly believe what you just said!"

Maggie never lifted her eyes to look at me nor did she say a word, as I took her arm and guided her down the hallway towards the master bedroom.

Half way down the hallway, Maggie stopped. Speaking through the open doorway in front of her, she said to my sister, "Megan, please go and prepare lunch."

Like every other girl that had just turned 18, Megan always felt put upon and responded "But Mother, I'm busy! Why can't you do it?"

With remarkable calm, Maggie responded, "Because your brother wants me to be with him in the bedroom for a bit. Now go do as you were told!" With this said, Maggie strode without apparent reservations, towards the master bedroom.

Her resolve broke right before she stepped through the door. She stopped and turned to me, putting one of her delicate hands on my cheek, and gently said "Peter, please... you don't have to do this to prove that you're in charge here. I'll move my things out and move in all of yours here into the master bedroom... and everything can then continue like always."

Even a day ago this might have worked. If she had come to me right after Bob's death, the anger in me wouldn't have had a chance to fester. As it was, the mixture of anger and lust, precluded any sympathy.

"You have exactly two minutes to get in that room and remove your clothes or I will rip them off of you where you stand!" I said in a voice much calmer than I felt.

Maggie blanched at the threat. Without a further word, she went into the master bedroom and began to disrobe.

I followed her in, closing the door as I watched her work the buttons on the front of her dress. I quickly pulled off my shirt and pants and sat on the bed; watching her undress. She let the dress slip from her body and pool around her feet.

She glared angrily at me as she slide the straps of her bra off her shoulders and said, "I know you think of me as a whore for sleeping with my father, Peter. But it wasn't like what you think. That first night with my father was rape. A plain, simple rape. The night following my mother's death, my father drugged me and took me to his bed where he repeatedly raped me. He kept me there by threats and coercion for the next few weeks, as well!"

"Fine, the first few weeks, were based on threats, coercion and rape. That still doesn't explain why you stayed in his bed after that and it sure doesn't explain why you immediately became dear brother Bob's lover!" I snidely responded, as I rose and stood in front of her.

As she blushed and lowered her eyes, I saw the anger drain from her now bare, beautiful shoulders. "No, it doesn't" she whispered.

"The truth of the matter is I wanted the sex. I discovered that I needed the sex. It was almost as if I had become addicted to it. I was pregnant with you, by then. Plus, I felt safe. I felt cared for. I can't tell you how good it felt to be safe in a man's arms. Even if those arms belonged to my own father! When he died, I was devastated. Bob came that first night just to comfort me, but, like you he was The CO and after holding me for a short while he demanded and received his rights. You're correct. I never left this bed. Bob simply replaced my father from that first night on and I was glad of it," she meekly said as she began softly sobbing against my chest.

My anger quickly disappeared as I put my arms around her and pulled her close. Her sobs increased as she put her arms around me, as well, and pressed her warm, soft body against mine. "And now I've come to this," she sobbed, "my own son is going to take me as his lover... and I want him too."

Sliding my hands lower, I finished removing her bra and then slid her panties off, as well. Lifting my soon to be lover in my arms, I carried my beautiful treasure to the bed and laid her gently down. I stood there for a moment admiring Maggie's beauty. Her auburn hair, green eyes, ivory skin. Her taut nipples perched atop full, round breasts. Her flat stomach leading to the thick tufts of pubic hair trying unsuccessful to conceal her glistening, wet pussy.

After I pushed my tented underwear from my body, Maggie opened her arms, as I climbed into our bed for the first time.

I'll never adequately explain the wonder of our first time together. We kissed. We caressed. She taught. I learned.

Positioning my hips between Maggie's upraised knees, I gazed down into lust-glazed eyes.

Maggie wrapped her arms around me and she whispered, "I imagine Bob didn't tell you that he was unable to achieve an erection for the last two years, did he?" She continued as I slid my unbelievable hard erection into her warm, loving, wetness, "God, Peter... it's been sooo good... I'm glad I'm so wet because... ummm, your much larger than the others... ooohhh, I've never felt so full... yes... ooohhh, yeeess!"

I began to slowly drive in and out of her slick pussy. I reveled in the feel of each passionate stroke. My hands kneaded her luscious breasts. My teeth sought and found her erect nipples. My lips ravished her lovely face, exquisite neck and beautiful shoulders. Soon, she lay gasping beneath me. Her hips rising to meet each of my thrusts. Even when I lost all control and began to hammer my cock hard into her pussy, she met me stroke for stroke.

After numerous smaller orgasms, I could tell that one was building up within her as she said, "Pet... er... ummph... I'm at... ummm... at my... most fertile... time... if you cum... ummmh... in me... I'll get... pregnant..." as the tidal wave of her orgasm crashed down - triggering my own. I recall think that it was just as well that I had intended to fill her with my seed. Her arms and legs were so tightly wrapped around me that I couldn't have withdrawn, even if I had wanted.