Fucked Up Family Pt. 05

Christine stared at her own distorted reflection in the window. When she'd woken up that morning feeling so 'content' she'd been lying to herself. Christine wasn't happy with things the way they were. Not really. She tried to think back to when she'd ever truly been happy and came up empty.

She'd been a lonely kid growing up. Her parents were both very rational, emotionally distant people. When Christine came home with skinned knees, they'd nod absently and hand her a band-aid. When she cried because her first boyfriend had broken her heart, her mother's big piece of advice was 'get over it.'

For a time, Christine had her older brother, Jack. Especially in middle school they'd been close. God, she looked up to her big brother so much. But then Jack went off to his own adventures in college and Christine was back in that empty house. She called it The Refrigerator, her childhood home.

Then she'd met James and he was so handsome and affectionate. In a way that reminded Christine of her big brother. She'd been happy with James, she knew. But then they'd gotten pregnant with Alexis and the world went a-tumble all over again.

Getting through college with one, two, three kids had been almost impossible. Getting through medical school had been even harder. Then, one day, Christine woke up and found a thirty-year-old woman staring back at her in the mirror. And she realized she hated everything about that person.

She started working out. Going to the gym. Building her body into something perfect, something that no one could ever stop loving. That was her new solution. That's how things had gone in her life. When her brother failed her, she found a husband. When he failed, she found school. When that didn't work: exercise.

Only she wasn't happy then, either. Oh, sure she told herself it was happiness. She showed herself her washboard abs and sculpted arms and said, See, you're happy now. You could bounce a quarter off your perfect butt -- that's what winners feel like.

God she'd been so delusional. So naive and stupid. And now she was in the passenger seat, next to her husband and children, driving home with an incest baby in her womb. Quite literally fucked up.

She'd spent all that time resenting Molly for being soft. When it was Christine who was broken. She hated James for being weak. When it was Christine who lacked the strength to do what was right. She'd taught her children awful things about life: about who to be and how to act. She'd been cold like her parents and worse. Judgmental, haughty, selfish.

She thought back on some of the things she'd told Lexi, horrible things, to a girl who worked harder than anyone she'd ever met in her life. The stuff she'd done to Molly -- a sweet, naturally happy girl who loved her mother so deeply. And all Christine had given her back was disdain. It was a miracle Austin could bear to look at her, some of the things she'd said to him over the years.

And James.

God, Christine couldn't believe how horrid she'd been to her husband. Treating him like dirt when all he'd ever done was care for her. She'd resented his love for Molly so much, but what did Christine ever offer him in exchange? How could she be so sanctimonious with her own son's cock pressing at her cervix?

If the family was fucked up, Christine was the one who'd done it. She'd taken these healthy beings and twisted them. Perverted their growth. She'd been an iron dictator who'd bent them all to her will and then laughed at how they limped and simpered in their strange, useless shapes.

The car pulled into the garage. The family piled out in one huge mob. Christine stayed in the car. Numb. She could see happiness through the still-open garage door. She could hear it, stomping and giggling through the rooms above her. She wanted more than anything to be one of them.

She looked down at her belly. Put her hands where she knew her unborn child was already waiting. "Don't worry, baby," she whispered, "Mommy's going to fix everything."

*

James came home feeling beat down. He opened the door, kicked off his shoes, and flopped on the couch. He sat there and gazed at the wall, like waiting for it to give him an answer. He knew none was coming. Things had already been bad enough before he went to work. When he woke up that morning, he couldn't imagine how life could get any worse.

Well, now he knew.

It had started the night before. After the doctor's appointment, Christine had told him about... He couldn't even think the word, let alone say it. He'd gone to bed and stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

When James woke up, he tried to start a fight with Christine about it, but she just nodded and agreed with everything he said. It was a new, infuriating tactic and it only made James madder. Eventually, he gave up and stormed off to work. And that's when things really dropped down the drain.

"What happened?" Christine came into the living room, still dressed in her pajamas. She sat on the couch next to James and held his hand. She was acting so affectionate, but James was too distraught to be confused by his wife's behavior.

"I got called into Jean's office this morning," James said, "Apparently there were some improprieties. That was the word they used anyway."

"I don't understand." Christine said, "Jean's your supervisor, right?" She kept stroking her husband's hand. She looked at him with warm, caring eyes.

"Yes. Well he was. The short of it is I'm fired," James said.

"What? They can't let you go," Christine said. Her angry reaction to his treatment was already making him feel better.

"They're not," James said, "Not exactly. They brought up a whole bunch of stuff. Everything that's happened since the camping trip, basically. Missing so much work and then coming back and being, well, I guess I can admit I haven't been the most diligent employee lately. There was some other stuff, too."

Christine arched her eyebrow. James almost smiled despite himself. He'd seen both his daughters make the same exact face.

"Well, there was that whole thing with my assistant, Melanie," James said, "They let her go, too, by the way. Also, they said I was bringing prostitutes into the office."

"Oh God," Christine said. She tried to stifle the laugh but couldn't.

"It's not funny, Christine," James said, "I started to tell them it was my daughters, except... Well, I realized that would make things way worse."

"Poor Lexi and Molly," Christine said.

"Poor them? What about me?" James said.

"Of course, dear. I'm sorry," Christine said, "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. It's just, if those girls knew? They'd be mortified."

"In any case, after they threw all that stuff in my face, they gave me a choice. I could voluntarily resign and get a healthy retirement package, or they were going to make it all public and drag me through the mud."

"What did you say?" Christine asked.

"What choice did I have?" James said, "They've already sent out a staff-wide e-mail. They're going to ship all my office stuff back here. It's over."

"Was the package generous, at least?"

"It's fine, considering. Won't be paying the mortgage but it's not nothing," James said.

"We've got my job," Christine said, "It'll be tight, but we can make it work."

"I know. I guess I should be worried about all those things, but I'm not. Christine, what you told me last night..."

"Shhh," Christine said. She kissed her husband lightly on the lips. He startled. It had been so long since she'd shared that kind of affection with him. "Everything's going to be fine. I told you, I've got it all figured out."

"Guess I better start putting my resume out there," James said. He knew how his wife worked -- even a little bit of relaxation was cause for a full investigation.

"Don't rush," Christine said, "Take your time. For one, you need to let this cool down. But, honestly, after everything you've been through, I want you to have a break. See where you are in six months, even a year. People in your position? There's always another job waiting. For now, you've got the package from work and I'm still earning. It'll all work out, I promise."

James stared at his wife, trying to figure out when the alien being had taken over her mind. He didn't remember her being this way the last time she was pregnant, but if this was the result, he was going to have to find a way to keep her knocked up forever.

"Now, I have a special surprise for you," Christine said. She stood up. "Something that's going to make you feel a whole lot better about everything."

James started to stand. "I don't know how much I feel like a surprise," he said.

Christine shushed him again and gently pushed him back onto the couch. "Oh, I think you're going to want this one," she said. "Trust me. I'm a little behind because I wasn't expecting you home so soon but stay right here and I'll sort everything out."

Once James was safely ensconced in the cushions, Christine sauntered out of the living room. She came back holding two glasses filled about halfway with scotch. James was running out of ways to express his surprise. His wife almost never touched alcohol (although there was that time she'd come home from her date with Lexi and Austin, so who could say at this point). While she didn't actively discourage her husband, the implication of alcoholic abstinence was clear. Sure, James had a drink every now and again when out with co-workers. But otherwise he was almost always dry.

Christine handed him his glass, then clinked it with her own.

"This is good stuff," James said, after taking a sip.

"The guy at the store said it was the best," Christine said. James didn't want to think about how much 'the best' cost. Being out of work seemed to put dollar signs on everything.

Christine took a sip, then coughed.

"Are you sure you should be..." James couldn't even complete the question.

"It's just a little to keep you company," Christine said, "I promise I won't go overboard."

They sat on the couch, not really talking. James finished his own drink, then finished Christine's for her. When he was done, his wife got up and poured another two glasses. She handed him his but held onto the other.

"My dear, are you trying to take advantage of me?" James asked. He was already feeling warm. He wasn't used to this much consumption.

"Maybe," Christine said, smiling playfully, "Sort of."

"You know you don't need to get me drunk to take me to bed," James said.

"Maybe not, but it makes it a whole lot more fun," Christine said.

He felt weird, his wife in her pajamas while he was in a suit. He loosened his tie and took off his coat. He was too buzzed to care about the clothes and tossed them on the cushions next to him. He noticed that Christine was still standing over him, holding that glass of scotch, unsipped.

"You've got another one just waiting for me?" James asked.

"Oh no, this isn't for you," Christine said.

James heard footsteps on the stairs. He turned around and saw Molly walking towards them. His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

She was wearing a bright red, silk camisole with black, lacy edges around her cleavage. It hung to right below her sex. She looked amazing in it. The crimson shiny against her skin. The way her incredible chest looked ready to burst out of the stitching. How every step seemed to lift the bottom of the camisole to alllmmmmooooost expose her pussy. She was not wearing underwear. She wasn't wearing anything, just that camisole that looked so good on her that it had to come off as soon as possible.

"Hi Daddy," Molly said. She smiled shyly and blushed. The red of her cheeks further brought forward by her deep red clothing.

"Fuck me," James breathed. He hoped his wife didn't hear. James felt his cock stiffen in his pants. Goddamn, what was Christine trying to do to him?

Molly walked slowly over to the couch. She took the glass of scotch from her mother and took a sip. She made a very funny 'yuck' face, like she would when she was little. She drank it again, though.

"Do you like my outfit?" Molly asked, "Mommy bought it for me, special."

"It's, ummm, very nice," James said. Christine looked down at her husband and winked.

"Molly, dear, why don't you take your drink upstairs," Christine said, with (again) surprising affection. "I need to talk to your Dad for a second."

"OK," Molly said. She gave her father a big, exaggerated wink, then pranced back up the stairs.

James watched her go the whole way, every best part of his baby girl bouncing hypnotically as she went. Finally, he dragged his eyes away from his daughter and looked over at his wife. He expected to see an angry glare, but there was none there.

"Christine, what's going on?" James asked.

"I think it's time we get everything out in the open," she said, "I want us to speak honestly about what's happened, what's going on now, and -- most importantly -- what we're going to do about it going forward."

*

"Are you crazy?!" James shouted.

Molly could hear her father's voice echoing all the way upstairs, through the shut door, and into her parents' bedroom, where she was now sitting on the bed.

The buxom blonde felt ridiculous wearing that little camisole. Every part of her seemed to be busting out -- her oversized boobs, her too wide hips, her ample ass. It reminded her of nightmares she'd had, going to school without clothes on. Trying to cover every exposed asset and knowing it was impossible.

She took a deep breath. Her Mom said she looked good and that was something. Molly wasn't used to getting compliments from her mother on, well, anything, but especially not her body. Molly didn't know how to take it when Christine said she looked sexy. Was she being ironic? Molly was legitimately unsure.

But then she saw how her father looked at her and, wow, OK she was clearly looking good. She took another drink of the scotch. God, it was terrible. How did people drink this stuff? Every sip though, made her feel a little stronger. Gave her a bit more courage.

That's probably why her mother had suggested she have some. It made her tummy feel warm in a funny way. Made her sex tingle, too. OK, so maybe the taste wasn't exactly the attraction.

Molly sat on the bed and tried to hear what her parents were saying, but after James' shout they'd gotten quiet. It was dark in her parents' bedroom, but Molly left the light off. Another of her mother's requests. It was weird, Christine had been strangely supportive all day. Molly was pretty sure this was her mother's evil (good?) clone or something. Nothing else made sense.

The blonde girl posed a few times, but ended up lying on her side, head propped up. It was the best combination of alluring and comfortable. She smoothed the camisole and resisted the urge to rub her little cunny, even though it was clearly crying out for some attention. She waited.

It took so long, he wondered if her parents had forgotten about her. What if they were both doing it, right there on the couch? That would make more sense, a married couple having sex, than what Molly was awaiting. She could barely contain the butterflies in her stomach. Again, the alcohol helped.

There was a soft knock on the door. Then it creaked open. James was standing there. He was wearing his light blue dress shirt, unbuttoned about halfway. He had on navy slacks, but he'd kicked his shoes off. He looked at his daughter, hungrily. Like devouring every inch of her body with his eyes.

James stepped inside the room. Christine came in behind him. Molly's Mom was wearing a pair of long pajama pants and a cute, little white t-shirt. Her blonde hair, usually so perfectly straight, hung askew.

James sat down on the bed, on one side of Molly. Christine joined on the other. Both parents took one of Molly's hands and squeezed it tight.

"Molly, honey," James said, "Mommy told me what she's planning to do. What you both are planning. Are you sure about this? If you're not, it's OK. I won't be mad or disappointed or anything."

Molly looked at her mother. Christine mouthed the words 'go for it.'

"Yes, Daddy, I'm sure," Molly said, "I've wanted this for a long time."

"Yes, but honey, we're already..." James faltered. The words were so hard to say. Probably because speaking them made it all seem so much more real. "That is, I still don't see how doing this fixes anything."

"Of course it does, Daddy," Molly said, "It makes everything even. Between you and Mommy. You and Austin. Me and Lexi. No one can be mad at anyone if we've all done the same thing."

"But honey," James said, "it's going to ruin your life. I mean, what about school?"

"I want this more than anything," Molly said, "How does getting what I want ruin my life? Besides, I never wanted to go away to school in the first place. I'm happy here, with my family. Mom already got me set up at State. Lexi and I can go together, it'll be great."

James squeezed his daughter's hand even harder. Molly could see that no matter how much she explained, he was never going to accept it. So, she made the decision for him. The young blonde leaned over and kissed her father on the lips.

Molly was never going to get over how much she loved kissing her Daddy. The slight scratch of his stubble on her cheeks. The way he felt like a man and how that made her feel very much like a woman. The smell of scotch on his breath only compounded it. Molly felt her father's arms wrap tight around her. She started to lean back, pulling James down to the bed. Bringing her Daddy to rest right on top of her. His chest on her breasts. His pant-covered penis already pressing against her sex.

Molly moaned. Her father slipped his tongue into her mouth. He ground down against her. He was hers, now. She knew.

"Here, let me help you both get ready," Christine said. Molly had been hoping that once things got started, her mother would leave them both be. But, apparently, she intended on being an active participant.

Christine reached around them and pulled James' dress shirt over his head. She slid her hands down to her husband's waist and deftly undid his belt. Then Christine pulled his pants and underwear off. James lifted slightly to help her along, but that was all. When he lowered himself back down, it was his bare cock grinding against Molly's moist furrow.

James kissed down his daughter's neck he ran his hands down her flank, cupped her massive breasts, then settled on squeezing her ample ass. The two of them rubbed against each other like horny teenagers. Which, Molly supposed, was appropriate considering that's exactly what she was.

James pulled up for air. He looked at his daughter, his eyes filled with so much love they seemed to overflow with it. He dragged his hands around and gripped the bottom of her camisole.

"You look so good in this, baby girl," James said.

"Then why are you trying to take it off?" Molly asked, playfully.

"That's how you know you've got good lingerie, dear," Christine said, "It doesn't stay on you for very long."

Molly sat up and let her Daddy lift the silky outfit over her head. He tossed it to the side and then looked at his daughter again, appreciating her in a way that made her feel so special.

Molly had always hated her body. She wanted to look lithe and muscular like her mother and sister. Now though, in her father's eyes, she couldn't imagine wanting to be any other way. She was maximum Molly, and she glorified in it. Plus, for the first time in her life, for reasons Molly would never understand, it seemed like her mother felt the same way.

"You look so gorgeous, Honey," Christine said, "Your body is incredible. Doesn't she look fantastic, dear?"

"Uh huh," James said. Molly could have sworn she saw drool slip out the side of her father's mouth. He looked at her, dumbfounded.