Her Mother's Daughter

"Mommy," she hadn't called me that since she was about eight, "I've been thinking... I'm really sorry for being so rude lately..."

Lately? But I didn't say anything other than. "It's alright, dear: I know things have been stressful of late." A cooked breakfast AND an apology all at the same time... It was going to be a biggie.

She smiled and then daintily picked at her mushrooms for a few seconds. "Mommy, you know how it's such a chore driving me to college every morning? And you always being late because of it?"

"Hmm? Yes dear?" I knew what was coming... But the breakfast was very good – cooked to perfection. I'd always been a fan of the full-English breakfast and she knew it.

"Well... I'll be eighteen on Friday... You'll be able to put me on the car insurance... Then I'll be able to drive myself around. Alan's been giving me driving lessons ever since he passed his test three months ago."

I spluttered to hide my laughter: her pet spotty moron had been teaching her to drive... He already had two convictions: one for speeding and the other for dangerous driving.

"We'll see dear: but let's get today over with first!" Oh my beautiful daughter! Why can't you always be like this?

She frowned. "I know that you hate Alan because he is a boy and you want me to have a girlfriend!" She muttered petulantly.

I decided to test how deep her wish for driving lessons really was. "No dear: I don't hate Alan because he is a boy: I don't like him because he is a moron!" I answered sweetly with a smile to match.

She dropped her knife and fork and he face turned deep red. Then she calmed down instantly. "Oh, mommy!"

"Look darling, I've a busy day ahead: and yes, driving lessons are a good idea: but from someone who can actually drive!" Had I gone too far? Her glare told me that I had.

"Anyway, let me tell you my good news first..." But I was speaking to an empty room. "We've won the Lottery, darling!" – SLAM!!!

The drive to college was as usual: Sammi hunched down in the front passenger seat, glowering at no one in particular.

"Darling, you really must let me tell you as it concerns both of us." I made a last attempt to tell her that she was rich, but she was already fixated on something else.

"Look!" She hissed. "I told you, I am not interested in your dyke friends and don't care who you are shacking-up with. So shut up! You make me ashamed of you! I hate you!" She shrieked as she got out of the car and ran into the building.

After I had dropped her I drove to work and told them that I was quitting as from today... Needless to say, they were more than a little displeased: but my mind was made up.

I cleared my desk and then drove home. She really had gone too far this time: there was no way that I could see anyway of patching things up... It was time to say 'Goodbye, Sammi!"

I slumped into an armchair and picked up my mobile phone: I hesitated... "Oh Sammi," I muttered, "what am I to do?" I dialled Maud's number and waited to be connected. "Sammi? Why?" I felt a tear course down my cheek, soon to be followed by others.

"Hi, Caitlyn." Maud gushed. When I didn't answer immediately, she continued. "Had another row with her Ladyship, have you?"

"Uh-hu!" Was all I could manage to say.

"Okay, Cat, I'll set things in motion." She answered.

"No! Wait!" I managed to force out, but it was too late: the phone was dead. I dropped it and sighed heavily. "That's not what I want..." I muttered to the empty house.

I set about putting my life into some semblance of order: I've always been a little chaotic. Actually, more than a little, if I am honest with myself: something had poisoned my relationship with my only daughter: was it me? Was I really such a lousy parent? The day dragged on, then at three, I received a text from Sammi: "Staying the night at Linnie's."

This in its self was suspicious: she normally didn't bother telling me until much later. Well at least I knew where she was! It was obvious – She was with Alan... No doubt pouring out her heart to someone who was only interested in a tiny part of her anatomy and how to get into it.

At four I received a text from Maud: two texts in one day and neither of them trying to sell me something. This one was more complicated: "Expect a visitor tomorrow afternoon."

The game was now playing me.

3. Processional – I march to the beat of someone else's drum..

No job, no immediate parental responsibilities: I had a lie-in on Tuesday morning. Got up about ten and took a slow shower: as I dried myself off afterwards I kept letting my eyes stray to the mirror. The woman reflected back had a sad face: too long to be considered beautiful; but not ugly by British standards. Her lips were full and her nose small with an up-turned tip: the eyes were hazel and wide-spaced: the whole lot being framed by very straight, long mousey-coloured hair with a centre parting.

I struck a pose: the figure was a slim: 32C-26-36. I stared at it... It would have to do as it was all that I had. The skin was pale, despite my using the tanning bed at the near-by beauty parlour recently. I ran my hands down my curves and enjoyed the sensation. My pubic hair was neatly trimmed into a fashionable landing strip. I half turned and looked over my shoulder to get a glimpse of the rear aspect – NICE ARSE! Though I do say so myself. I'd love to get my hands on one like it... May be if I fattened Sammi up a little.

I stopped dead! The enormity of my unguarded thought suddenly hit me. I had never thought of my daughter in that way... Not ever! My mind was in free-fall as the panic hit me: she was my own flesh and blood; my child; my baby! I should not think of her in those terms! Was it guilt? I don't know, but I suddenly felt slightly sick. I could go on about "forbidden-fruit"; but that would only be true if I was tempted to taste it. I wasn't... I definitely wasn't... Was I?

I spun around and leaned over the hand basin, my weight supported by my hands that gripped the sides. There was a small dry heave then nothing. Nothing but the memory of Sammi throwing up in the front hall. My stomach settled as I realised that whatever happened, I was going to have to do something about her!

I hurriedly dressed myself and finished my hair and make-up. I was expecting visitors and I had my standards.

It was two o'clock when a car rolled up outside my house, it was Maud's She was accompanied by Milly, of all people. Milly the mad stress councillor. I greeted the women at the front door and ushered them into the lounge where they accepted the ritual offer of tea. As I poured the hot water into the pot I realised that my life and relationships were about to go under a spotlight, so to speak.

After the the normal small talk and tea-sipping, Milly broached the subject that I dreaded being raised. "So, Caitlyn, I hear from Maud that you have been having trouble with your daughter?"

I tried to play it down: but how could I with both a psychologist and a psychiatrist watching my every nuance and twitch? "Oh she's not so bad, just a bit mouthy and rude. You know what adolescents are like."

Maud raised an eyebrow, but much to my surprise, remained silent.

Milly gave me a knowing half smile. "That's not what your body language is telling me, dear, you are terrified of losing her, aren't you?" She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Caitlyn, I can bring her over: what I've heard about her behaviour tells me that it shouldn't be difficult"

I was mystified by this. What on Earth could she mean? I wondered.

Suddenly Maud jumped to her feet and excused herself, apparently she had left something in her car, she headed outside.

I had been about to say that I did not really want anything to happen to my daughter, that she was just fine how she was: but much of my courage departed with Maud. I was alone with a woman who I did not know; she turned her full gaze on me. Her brown eyes eyes seemed to burn into me for several seconds before she spoke. I had the distinct feeling that she was looking straight into my soul which made me shudder involuntarily.

"Caitlyn." She said very quietly. "Maud was kind enough to tell me of your problem." She spoke very softly, her voice loaded with empathy. "I would like to hear of it straight from you in your own words."

I rallied. "Honestly, Milly, I do not have a problem... There has been a slight misunderstanding, that's all." I was going to end it right there and then. It was a silly idea; a disgusting idea: she was my daughter for God's sake... I did not fancy her, even if she was beautiful with a nice arse.

The woman smiled, her very expression seemed to make me want to trust her: she new best, well didn't she?. "I will decide," she said, again very softly, "so please, tell me what has happened. Tell me why you are so upset."

I relaxed in my chair and began to pour my heart out: I didn't mean to, but I just could not help myself. I told a perfect stranger about what I had been going through for the last four years: the abuse, the insults, the scorn, the hatred: all of it.

She sat there and soaked it all up. Her eyes never left me and I couldn't look away. Occasionally she would interrupt my tale of woe with a carefully worded question such as was Sammi ever violent towards me?

I answered. "No, never: she doesn't need to be."

Then Milly had me repeat, word for word what my daughter had said. This reduced me to tears, but I kept on .

"Oh, you poor child! Come and sit by me." She instructed very quietly as she patted the couch cushion.

I couldn't think clearly: but my legs obeyed anyway and I found myself cuddling up to her. She slipped a comforting arm around my shoulders and listened as I trotted out my catalogue of woes. She was quiet and non-judgemental: a good listener who never criticised Sammi once. I guess that I must have been talking for an hour and a half: it honestly did not seem like it; but it must have been, for the front door slammed and Samantha was home.

"Please, Caitlyn, I would very much like to meet your daughter." The quiet voice seemed to ask from deep within me.

Without thinking, I called out. I shouldn't have done but I did and it was this that wrote my child's future. "Sammi? Could you come in here please: there's someone that I'd like you to meet."

Here I was, make-up smeared and tear stained: my hair dishevelled and another woman with her arm around me and I had invited my daughter in.

She poked her head around the door and froze: her expression, a mask of fear that seemed to change slowly into... into... Jealousy. The voice, when she found it, was more of a shriek. "You filthy fucking bitch: I told you that I don't want to meet your dyke girlfriends. You disgust me!"

She slammed the lounge door and stamped up the stairs to her room.

A very quiet voice muttered in my ear. "I know that I can help you."

I don't know why, but I relaxed and suddenly Milly pressed her lips against mine and kissed me passionately... I reacted just like a teenaged girl and folded into her embrace. One thing followed another and I found myself on my knees between her thighs: her skirt was hiked up and she wore no panties. The smell of her vagina was subtly powerful and seemed to draw my face towards it. Sammi was wrong about one thing: this woman was far too powerful and classy to be a girlfriend of mine.

Milly shuffled forward until my nose was up against her labial folds and then her hands gently pressed against the back of my head... I sighed and lost myself in her. I've never been a fan of oral sex; or at least not of performing it... being licked out, now that is entirely different: I just don't enjoy doing it: or at least I didn't before that afternoon. Milly was different and using my tongue on her seemed to be the thing that I most wanted to do in all of the world. Gently she interlocked her feet behind my back and I was trapped in the place where I most wanted to be.

I hesitantly tasted her... She tasted clean, that's all... Clean. I'd only tasted a couple of women before: they'd been sort of musky, slightly earthy or even sweet. But Milly just tasted clean. I stabbed my tongue out again and felt it enter her waiting vagina as it slipped in past the thin folds of her inner lips. What was I doing? I was on the floor in my own living room 'servicing' a stranger. This was at odds with the real me: sex should be between close friends, lovers even: not between a supplicant and her 'goddess'. I had no control over Milly, I don't think anyone has, but much worse, I had no control over me. As I said oral sex was not my thing and I was faintly repelled by it. Why? Because my mouth was only inches from her arsehole. I definitely wasn't into arseholes.

I licked upwards and found the tiny nubbin of her clit hidden by its little hood: as I brushed against it I heard her gasp. I ran my tongue around it in a little circle and felt the flap of skin move. She uttered something that I did not hear and clamped her legs more tightly around me... I licked again, then sucked her inner lips into my mouth and she groaned and convulsed pulling my nose into her flesh: for a moment I panicked, as I couldn't breath but she relaxed again and allowed me to wriggle into a more comfortable position.

There was no turning back: she seemed to possess me, I was hers. There was very little taste but there was a warm musky smell, a beautiful smell, a feminine smell. What if Sammi were to walk in now? What would she think? Another moment of panic.

I licked and licked and Anna began to spasm. Her hips bucked and I thought that she would break my neck. Is it possible to die of cunnilingus? By now I didn't care as she began to ooze more silky vaginal lubricant: I drank it down until the spasms culminated in an enormous judder as she grabbed my hair and began to rub my face against her vagina: I stopped licking and fought again for breath as she masturbated herself against me. There was another enormous spasm and then she relaxed and let me go.

"Very good, Caitlyn. Very good indeed." I looked up from the floor and could see her satisfied smile.

I heard a noise behind me and once more panicked. Oh, God, Sammi's seen it all! Echoed through my empty head.

I spun around, but it wasn't my little girl, it was Maud, she was leaning against the door frame with a leer plastered across her face.

Suddenly Milly grabbed my arms and lifted me... Our mouths met as she kissed me expertly for more than a minute and tongue-fucked me into the bargain. "Very good indeed!"

I was short of breath and my poor head was still spinning as I crawled up onto the couch beside her however her attitude had changed: she now took full charge of the proceedings and all I could do was to say 'yes' or 'no' or even to just nod and grunt almost inaudibly.

Milly sat in the chair opposite, her knees apart, just like a man, but she said nothing as Milly continued, her voice even more silky-soft than before..

"You do not deserve the problems that you have had with your daughter, it is so painful that I do not know how you have been able to cope, but rest assured, it is over. We will now discuss the permanent solution. You love her and should be able to take things further and please, do not think of it as incest: think of it as regaining control of your life!" The words flowed like honeyed water and all I could do was nod my agreement.

I wanted to shout: "No! I've changed my mind!" But all that came out was a quick nod and a "Yes, Milly." I was completely under her spell.

"So you want Samantha to become your intimate companion, you want the pair of you to make love together and you want her to enjoy it?"

I nodded again. Of cause I wanted her to enjoy it; what sort of monster did she think that I was. Sex should be enjoyed by both parties! Stands to reason, doesn't it?

"She will not only love you but she will be in love with you. No more fighting, no more rows, no more abuse."

"You...You can do all of this for me? ... For us?" I asked slightly exhilarated. I would have my little girl back AND she would be nice to me for the first time in years. No more battles!

Milly shook her head gently. "No, Caitlin, we can do it between us!" She then explained how and why it would be very easy.

After she had gone, I cleared away the tea things. Milly was a remarkable woman although she no longer worked as a councillor, she was actually an accountant. But that said and done, she had read the situation in a way that had not occurred to me. Maud agreed with her conclusions and wished me luck in my endeavours. It sounded so very simple but surely it couldn't be? Could it? Well could it?

4. Quickstep – Sammi and I dance to someone else's tune.

Milly had given me a set of hand written instructions and a couple of bottles of something. I sat back and read through the notes...

The blue bottle, first of all. The notes said 'odourless and tasteless' I was to add this to her breakfast tomorrow morning and then stand by. The brown bottle: this was to keep her tranquillized until Friday morning which was her birthday. Finally the Green bottle was to be administered on Saturday morning when she was recovering.

I read and reread everything but I must admit that I was none the wiser afterwards. It didn't matter though because I trusted Milly implicitly. Deep down I knew that she would take care of everything even though being around her was a bit like being on a helter-skelter... I seemed to be spinning around in a circle while sliding ever downwards to an unknown destination – it was fun – it was exhilarating – it was where we both wanted me to go... Wasn't it?... Well wasn't it? Samantha would love it too wouldn't she? It was clear that she was unhappy as a heterosexual, which is why she took her frustrations out on me: so her transformation into a submissive lesbian would be the best for both of us. Why hadn't I realised this before? Oh. silly old me.

The next morning I added the liquid to Sammi's fruit juice, breakfast cereal and tea. She stomped in glared at me and ate breakfast as usual. I decided to lighten the sullen atmosphere as my daughter was about to experience such monumental changes.

"Darling." I said. "I've been thinking. Life would be easier if you had your own car..." I got no further because she jumped up and threw her arms around me.

"Oh, mummy, thank you!" I got a big kiss, the first for months.

"We'll go and have a look at a few on Saturday and we'll see about proper driving lessons at the same time."

She finished her breakfast and we were out of the door on time for the first time in months. The normal sullen journey was replaced by one filled with happy chattering as I listened to the whole gamut from the new car and driving lessons ("Won't Linny be jealous?") to her spotty boyfriend ("Alan will think this is wonderful.") I listened patiently. In a way, I was glad that I was seeing the old Sammi in a happy mood: it made me look forward to seeing her always like that.

I dropped her off at college and made my way back home where I made myself a coffee and sat by my mobile and waited. It rang at half past ten, or rather it played a happy little tune. I answered it. It was the college: could I come and pick up my daughter as she had been taken ill with tummy trouble. I said that I was on my way, picked up the blanket that I'd put ready and drove off to get her.

When I got to her college, I hardly recognised Sammi: her normally pale skin was chalk-white and cold-clammy. She was both shivering and sweating. "Oh, mommy, please take me home."