Couch Detour

Striding down the stairs, Catherine paused at the base, “Wheelchair? Lunatic pastor.”

Briskly grabbing a coat off the nearby wall, she slowed as she saw Samantha supine on the couch through the hallway entrance to the living room. Phone clutched tight in her hand in her **** sleep..

Seeing the phone and the girl reminded Catherine of the many, many times she had spoken against phone use. It also reminded her of who Samantha was undoubtedly up late talking too.

“Those girls, so misguided. And all Samantha’s fault. My eldest should know better,” Catherine spoke aloud eyeing Samantha with a building determination only reiterated by her loins tingling with approval.

In the kitchen Catherine finished contacting the local supermarket, Big Freddy's, “Yes you heard me, 10 gallons of vanilla ice cream, the personal items I requested, 10 containers of prune juice, and at least 30 cucumbers. Along with everything else I listed. Yes, I know it’s 3AM, deliver it by 4AM and you get a tip.”

Hanging up the house phone, Catherine said in disgust, “Service these days. Can’t do anything without giving them money. Now, maybe the stuff that maniac left behind will be useful, I think I recall he mentioned some garments. There were pills too I think?”

Frowning over her daughters’ smaller breasts she said firmly, “Pills.”

5 minutes later, as Catherine rooted around her basement, she spoke aloud to herself.

“I’m sure it wasn’t this large before. Magic is crazy,” Catherine stared at the walls of items that stretched out into the distance, talking to herself in the silence, filling it with sound since the quiet bothered her in contrast to the sheer amount of space. “Reminds me vaguely of that movie National Treasure or the show Warehouse 13. Honestly, I have no clue what half of this is.”

Endless shelves filled an underground warehouse that stretched beyond the naked eye. Almost it seemed to Catherine that it grew darker in the distance, with things moving in between. But that was surely nonsense.

Catherine sat down at an ancient computer above which hung an old sign that said inventory, next to a cart on a plain wooden set of rails.

Starting to navigate the inventory system, the only thing on the computer, noises continued to break the silence, “Ooh? 2 sizes in 2 days or your money back? Yes please. These panties will do nicely. Guro category?

"Yuck. These people are forking crazy. Ok, that should just about cover it.”

Catherine picked her selected items out of the cart, “I don’t know who or how these got here, and I don’t want to know! You all belong in an zoo,” she yelled into the distance to the moving shapes far, far away, that seemed somehow closer now. Before trooping back upstairs and slamming the door closed behind her.

In the dark, the fading ancient oil lamps dimmed and went out.

Stepping back into the living room, arms full, Catherine declared to the lightly snoring Samantha, “Let’s get you dressed, dear.”

“You two look so cute together,” the squeal broke Samantha’s rest along with a camera snap. “Click!”

“Whatt-tt-tt?” a bewildered Samantha muttered, headache pounding. “Dad?”

On the guest room bed (Daniel had made the mistake of mentioning that perhaps the pastor wasn’t too crazy earlier that day) Samantha quickly released her arms from around her mostly naked Father.

“No, no none of that. Hug him again and turn into the camera. Smile for me Sammi!”

Samantha’s body moved as ordered, facing her mother, ‘what was she wearing, and that was her phone!’

“No words, other than, cheese!”

“Cheeeeese!”

Catherine happily clicked away, getting angles here, getting angles there. Stepping to the side she said, “Good, good! Now squeeze your breasts together with your arms. They really do look to small, Sammi.”

Samantha stared at the crazy imposter as her body did just that, she noted in her mind, ‘that’s not the bra I was wearing this evening.’

“Now nuzzle Dad, really scratch his beard, get that face right next to his,” Samantha did as instructed, a bit of drool from Daniel’s snoring face sliding over to hers.

“Perfect!”

Casually Catherine tossed the phone aside, “Now let’s get down to business. I’ve taken the time this morning to think back to our conversations over the years. Dear, Elene, your girlfriend, that was a mistake.”

Holding up her hand, Catherine continued, “It’s my fault, I wanted to support you, I know you said you're gay in your senior year, and you are my daughter, but Sammi, Sammi,” Catherine slowed, giving Samantha a firm glance, left hand set on her hip, vagina glistening through her belt, “that’s just not true. This female nonsense, this my body my choice, what a load of crock. It’s Man’s choice.”

Almost slowing, Catherine said, “Well Man’s choice if their white, and if the head of the household agrees.”

Shaking her head at some current conflict, veil seeming to heat briefly with a faint white glow, she continued, “Regardless of the details, you denied your Father that choice. You ignored my input, You led poor Elene astray! And now you think that all men are,” Catherine used air quotes with her dainty fingers, “sexually unattractive!”

“Absolutely bonkers.”

“Well, no more, not in my house. This will take time. This will take patience. This will take effort. This will take pain,” she gestured wildly in the air, “but Samantha, Sammi, I love you and we’ll get through it together.”

“I don’t know where and when this will end, but I put a bit of thought into the problem and I figured out a few key points.”

“First,” Catherine held up one finger to her daughter, “your breasts are too small. Seriously how are you supposed to feed your children?”

Catherine grabbed a small pink capped bottle, rattling around 6 very large pills, similar in size to large grapes.

Reading aloud to her B cup sized daughter, “Insert rectally. Recommend 1 per 8 hours due to increased sensation, mild irritation to colon. Guaranteed to increase 2 cup sizes in 2 days, permanently. Note may cause lactation.”

“No pain, no gain,” a stern Catherine said down to Samantha, who lay shivering in a plain white bra, and white/gold lace panties that she clearly felt from the bedding she lay on top off did not cover her butt at all. Not even quite a thong.

“That being said,” Catherine gestured to herself self-consciously “I am a woman. Given your depravity, I really can’t touch you there, despite the fact that we know this is medical procedure. So roll over to Dad, and repeat after me.”

Catherine placed the bottle in Samantha’s hand as she hovered over her shoulder.

“Daniel, please forgive us,” Catherine intoned

“Daniel, please forgive us,” Samanthan echoed.

“We have need of your firm hand.”

“We have need of your firm hand.”

“After each pill your fingers shall be cleaned.”

“After each pill your fingers shall be cleaned.”

“Your reach shall guide us to a better future.”

“Your reach shall guide us to a better future.”

“Now place your forehead against his lips.”

“Now place your forehead against his lips.”

Catherine rolled her eyes as Samantha echoed her last line, “No silly goose.”

Reaching out she placed Samantha’s head against Daniel lips, holding it there, long enough that Daniel’s breath stuttered to a hopeful Samantha’s ears, before pulling her back by her voluminous hair.

“Now, let me grab that phone again, I’m sure you have the idea, butt to your dad, facing me, straddled above his man hood, fingers and pill at the ready, speak only to describe sensation, the process, how you feel and speak frequently. Speak earnestly. Say Mommy, say Daddy, and do what we literally just talked about. Each time should take some time.

“Pose,” Catherine picked up and readied the camera on Samantha’s phone. “Pose like an actor in one of those terrible pornography videos. You know the kind you tattle on Emily to me about.”

Samantha threw off the heavy bedding, tossed her hair about out of her eyes, and straddled her father above his crotch, shivering now in the cold. Nipples peaked, she twisted the cap off the bottle before placing a pill in her Dad’s right hand, awkwardly using both of her hands to bring the object right against her rear entrance.

“Mommy, I’ve never done this before,” Samantha whispered to the camera. Breasts heaving, staring wild eyed at her own phone

“Good,” Catherine said to the video. “A Father should always be first.”

“It’s hard to hold Daddy’s hand like this mom, the pill are tough to get –” a bug eyed Samantha stopped as the oddly hot pill pressed into her entrance.

“Push!”

“Yes Mommy,” cried Samantha as she did just that with her Father’s hand, the pill entered quickly, the round shape struggling only briefly at the entrance.

Samantha collapsed atop her Father, as he grunted in this sleep, “Mommy it burns, it hurts.”

Samantha clutched her stomach, a fiery, itching sensation slowly spreading as she attempted to bear down on the object in her rear, it slightly peaking.

Catherine held the phone up quickly capturing it as she spoke sternly, “Bad girl! Keep your medicine in! And grab Daddy’s hand. Lick that clean.”

Samantha clutched her Father’s hand, “Sniff it first!”

“Ewwww Mommy,” muttered Samantha.

“Yes dear, all butts smell like that.”

“Now, put those fingers in your mouth and suck loudly for the camera,” said Catherine, ‘I’ll edit those words out later,’ she thought to herself.

Staring down at her daughter as Samantha did just that, popping one finger at a time in and giving each careful attention. Slowly sliding down one and then the other, she lingered the last **** to move despite the taste, the bitter disgusting sensation engrained into her taste buds. The burning from one pill felt this bad, what would 5 more yield?

Shortly thereafter a **** yet smiling Samantha for the camera pressed another pill into her rear, a grimace, a pop and it was dump.

“Mommy, mommy it burns. It feels like I injected a small ball of fire into my ass,” Samantha whispered. “I need to scratch it,” her father’s fingers still buried in her cavity.

“Take those out and get on with it,” a disapproving mother ordered.

By the sixth pill, Samantha was sucking for all she was worth on her father’s fingers, frantically grinding her ass against her dad’s crotch.

Catherine snorted, “Fine dear, I’m sure this is a load of drama, but I’ll deign to offer you a way out. Tell you what, look here.”

Saying so she placed Samantha’s phone by Daniel’s crotch, the screen saver was left to Elena’s picture, a cute redhead grinning at the camera in a classic goth outfit. Dramatic black makeup everywhere.

“Stare at this, then stare at your father’s crotch, when you find the crotch more attractive, you can use your fingers in your butt to relieve your itch. You’ve got an hour, if not done by then, you’re clearly worse off than I thought.”

Tapping her chin she added, “At that point, I think we need to go all in. Start you on training for your future husband, look up how woman dressed and acted in the 1940s and 1950s, there’s a lot to learn there. Need to help poor Elene too at some point.”

“Ding!”

“Oh, that must be the delivery man! I’ll be back in a bit dear, don’t worry about Dad, he’ll be asleep for some time. I need to find space in the freezer and fridge for a few items, and maybe check on some of your siblings? Or Michelle. Hmmm. Honestly the more and more I think about, I cannot believe how I let this house **** . . ..”

“Bye love!”

Catherine trooped off down the stairs, to give a delivery man a story, that no one would ever believe.