Grandma's first secret

When you finally get home you are three-ways dead: dead tired, starved to ****, and brain dead. Engineering figures are flying fast and furious just out of your mental reach and you feel like you haven't eaten in eons, and your body feels like you ran a marathon. You didn't get a chance to eat lunch because Officer Muncie (Buffy's sister) put you on to a couple of store robberies and three, count-em three, carjackings. If you count the total distance you've flown across the city three times at top speed and had to do action stuff at the end of each trip. At least you're home. The next stop is supper, but even now there's something you have to do first.

Stripping down and putting on your robe you head for the bathroom. The brand new bag of cleaning solution comes out (the girl at the store was flirting with you when you bought it) and then, after a few moments flexing, so does the CUNT-ball. I have got to come up with a better name for that, you say to yourself. You gently dry the slick egg in your hands and then rub it down with a cleaning cloth soaked in the solution. After that you take out the other equipment and start douching your vagina. Despite being room temperature, the liquid feels cold and a bit slimy and makes you all squidgy inside. You kind of wish there was a way to dry in there a bit, but anything you can think of would have... other complications.

Once you're done you push the egg gently back in. Once again it lodges against your g-spot and vibrates until most of the work you did cleaning is pretty-much wasted.

"Hi Sweetie!"

You grab your crotch and look up. "Mom!"

"Don't worry dear, I have one just like it. Anyway, there's something I have to tell you. It's about your father."

Your mother never talked much about your father. It was a quick fling, she said, and just sort of left it at that. You always used to dream he was a superhero like Interesting Man or something. But that didn't work, because just listening to Interesting Man on the radio got you all hot and bothered.

"What is it, Mom?"

"Not here. I have to prepare you first."

"The news is that bad?"

"It's one of the things that horrid **** has over you."

She takes your hand and leads you into her bedroom, then has you lie back on the king-sized bed.

"Arms up, little girl."

"Yes, Mama." What on Earth is she doing?

She reaches up to the corners of the bed and pulls something out. A moment later both your wrists are strapped and reaching for the corners of the bed.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

"You need to understand something, Maya. Just a bit more."

She climbs down and binds your feet as well, leaving you lying face-up spread-eagled on the bed. She flips open your robe, leaving you full frontal on the ceiling.

"Mom?"

"Maya dear, this is pretty much the position I was in when you were conceived."

"You were tied down and ****? Where was Grandma?"

"She was busy at the time and couldn't stop it."

"What happened? Was it a supervillain attack?"

"No, it was Transforman. He turned your grandmother into a man, which left her confused. Very confused: make out with the prettiest available girl confused."

"Who did she...?" The light comes on. "You!?"

She nods.

"That's horrible! You must have been ruined! I don't know if I could take that!"

"I could; afterwards I begged her to do it again. And again, and again, ... Three months later we found out I was pregnant."

You're totally dumbfounded by the horror of it, not the least by your Mom's reaction. Then the second light comes on.

"But that means my father is actually..."

"Also your grandmother. We're not just mother and daughter, we're also sisters. Do you see how **** might use that against us?"

You can't wrap your brain around it. Not with all the other stuff that happened today. Part of you wants to cry, but you're even too numb for that. And your body is calling for its own needs to be met.

"I can't process this, Mom; maybe if I had some food in me. Can you untie me so we can get some supper?"

"Actually no, Dear. Grandma made me promise I'd do this once you came out, especially when you felt tired and used up. In order to get supper you have to escape. I've set up a camera which will record you, then we'll upload the footage to the League of Propriety for evaluation of your technique."

"Mom!" But she's walking out of the room.

CUNT-ball clams up and won't give you any advice; it takes fifteen minutes of thrashing and struggling to get your left hand free. Mercifully after that the other three straps are fairly easy to remove. You fly downstairs to the source of the hot hamburger smell that's been tempting you for most of the time you were tied; when you get there there's a plate of steaming ground beef and gravy and mashed potatoes waiting.

After two forkfuls it's not fast enough. You pick up the plate and root-hog it, not caring about the hot food spilling onto and down your chest. You make quite the mess and end up scooping globs of gravy-soaked beef and potatoes off the entire front of your body. Finally you lean back and sigh.

Mom gives you a pixie wink from across the table. She's holding her phone cam. "Had enough, Maya dear?"

"Mom!" You grab your breasts; it's way too late given that you were totally naked for the entire meal. You shriek and run to your room, then change your mind and head for the shower. At least the fear-stoked adrenaline is giving you energy.