Taking Over

As I walked along the corridor to my bedroom, I heard my parents arguing again. I was eighteen and I knew what they were fighting over - it has been the same thing for over two years now. Mom's submissive nature.

Perhaps I should start with an introduction. My name is Lena, my mother's is Marybeth and my handsome Dad is called Hank. Mom had me when she was just sixteen, the result of a randy date with Dad, and it only served to speed up their marriage. Dad started a hardware store, and even without any degrees, made it into one of the most profitable stores in the city. Mom, my poor ambition-less Mom, stayed at home and looked after me. In spite of their arguments, I knew they loved each other dearly, and I loved them just as much. Their only contentious bone, as I mentioned, has been Mom's submissiveness.

I suppose a lot of men go for that in a woman, but if you live with it for over fourteen years, it tends to get a little boring. Mom had always had that submissive streak in her, but until a few years back, it had always been confined to sex alone. Now, however, it was part of her very outlook. Dad had liked the feeling of power in the beginning, but it seems that as the years wore on, he wanted a partner more than a slave. To Dad's credit, he never strayed despite the fact that Mom's fetish was irritating him a lot, and up until we got together, Mom had been the only woman he had slept with.

Poor Mom. She couldn't help herself. By the time she realized that she was reduced to a mere human doormat, it was too late for her to do anything about it. The situation was so bad that it had been two years since they last made love - everytime Dad got into foreplay, Mom would say something like, "What can I do for you, Master?" and that would ruin the mood for Dad. As I told you, Dad married Mom for love, and even though it was still there, on the sexual front, he felt like an aggressor.

I suppose that title would suit me more. I was still a virgin at eighteen, and thankfully free of any boyfriends. There are no regrets though, for somehow, I could never go beyond a date's faults. The same story was played over and over again - a date one night and the break-up the next. There is no hurt anywhere, for I've finally found my true place - in my father's arms. But that is getting ahead of the story, isn't it?

On this day, I had come across a rather disturbing truth - Dad was starting to turn me on. Nudity was never an issue around the house and with Mom too mellow to take any stand on my household attire, Dad and I often saw each other with little on. Of late, our pecks on the cheeks had turned to french kisses, and during Christmas, Dad had kissed me under the mistletoe. I suppose any other mother would have put her foot down on such open shows of affection, but Mom never even gave me a glare. She just smiled and went about doing her stuff.

I had been trying to see if there was anybody in my class I liked enough to go to the Prom with - and after an hour of analysis, I could come up with only one conclusion - Dad was the only one left on the list. I had unconsciously selected my Dad as the criterion for choosing my date, and ended up with every other name on the list crossed out. I dwelt on it, and before I knew it, I had admitted to myself that I was in love - with my father! Not only that, but he also seemed to me to be the hottest guy on the planet...

So here I was, trying to deliberate what I should do to get rid of my fixation on Dad, when fate handed me a door. I could hear Mom and Dad in their bedroom, and my mind immediately conjured up an image of how Dad would look naked. There went my resolution!

"Look, Hank, I am sorry but I can't help it. It's who I am - I still love you, but I know I have changed from the woman you once loved," Mom was saying.

"I still love you, Honey," Dad said, and the sincerity in the voice made me ... jealous. Somehow, I wanted to hear him say those same words to me. "Sex isn't everything in a marriage, and you know it. I love you even more than I did when I married you, if that is possible. It's just that when we start to make love, you - it frustrates me to think of you as a slave, darling. What I want is a partner who treats me like I treat her - like you used to. Sometimes, I feel I take advantage of you!"

"Oh. Hank! Don't feel so guilty." Mom was sobbing now. "Maybe you should just look outside -"

Dad cut her off. "We've already gone over that, Beth - there is no one I love - I can love - more than you and Lena, and a purely sexual relationship isn't worth the risks to our family life. I don't want Lena to ever think that I was cheating on you, that you weren't enough for me. So that leaves only you and Lena..."

"What about her, Hank? Why not Lena?" I froze. Mom was asking Dad about sleeping with me.

"Are you crazy?"

"Just concerned, my darling. Haven't you noticed that she has practically no social life? She loves you Hank, I can see that from her face. Maybe even she doesn't know it, but I bet she thinks of you everytime she goes out - and that probably explains why no one has ever got to first base with her. She adores you, Hank, and you know it. I can sense the love in the air when the two of you kiss, and so I know you love her just the SAME way you love me. Why don't you admit it, Hank, that you are in love with her?"

That was about as aggressive as Mom had been in recent years. Even though I was still surprised at that, my mind was focussing on Dad's reply. My heart sank when I heard him say, "That's sick, Marybeth."

"Why, Hank, why is it sick?" She was pleading now, begging him. "If you were raping her, that would be sick - this is love, Hank, isn't it? Not lust. Don't you want her? I am not asking you to compare the two of us - I know that I will lose out, but I don't mind. She would be the right woman for you, Hank, she is smart, cheerful, and she has your streak in her. She doesn't want to be stepped over like I do, she will be your equal in bed. And as for love not being in bed alone, don't you see that she loves you a lot deeper? Please, Hank, at least for my sake, admit that you love her. Please say that you want her as your lover."

I listened in stunned silence as I heard Dad say, "I do."

Mom was happy. "Thank you, Hank. You know what has been my deepest fantasy?"

Dad asked her, I thought, in a more subdued voice. "What?"

"That she just walks in one day, tells me to, 'Move over bitch, I am taking over your husband,' and then the two of you make love - in front of me. After that, she makes me your slave, your servant. God, how often have I dreamt that she pulls me by my hair for some small fault. It's the sheer unfairness, you know, that turns me on. That and the feeling that my daughter is now my mistress, the lover of my Master."

Dad was silent, and then he said, "That is hot!"

I decided to make my move. I loved Dad, and if Mom wanted me to treat her harshly, I would. She said she loved it, didn't she, being subordinated by her own offspring? Being treated roughly and harshly in front of her husband, my father? Being humiliated, in one word?

The door was unlocked, so I barged in. Mom was lying on the bed, still fully clothed, and Dad was beside her, having only his boxers on. Gawd, he looked so sexy, I just wanted to pounce on him and devour him. I could see the tent and knew that whether he did it or not, he liked to think about me taking over Mom's spot. I moved over to the bed, putting on a scowl for best effect. Mom and Dad stared at me, for my sudden entrance and strange behavior confused them.

I clutched Mom's hair and pulled her up. For a moment, the pain was expressed, then her face softened. She knew that her wish was about to come true. "Get out of my bed, you bitch," I hissed in a spiteful voice, "Don't let me catch you in this bed again. That's my lover and you are only my slave, got that?" Mom nodded meekly.

"Good, now move over to that corner and watch as your daughter makes love with your husband. And if I hear a single peep out of you, we are gonna spank you until you can't sit. Isn't that right, darling dad?" I shoved her away.

It was only then that Dad found himself. "Uh, Lena, what -"

I fell on him and cut him off with a kiss. I snaked my arms around his neck and mashed our lips together. To my delight, Dad started kissing me back, and his hands started roaming over my body. I gasped involuntarily when I felt him grab my tits and started to play with them. His cock was already strainig his boxers and I could almost feel it through my jeans. I took my hands away from Dad's face just long enough to unzip my jeans and shove them down, and then they were caressing his face again.

Dad had slipped his hands under my tee-shirt, and was playing with my breasts. Even without lifting the tee-shirt or looking anywhere else, he pulled my bra down, freeing my breasts completely. His fingers pinched, caressed, teased and twisted my nipples until they were so hard that I could have used them for hammers. I couldn't stand it any more.

"Oooh, Daddy," I said, breaking our kiss for the time being. As soon as I sat up, Dad pulled my t-shirt and my bra off. He flung them at my mother's face, and even as his throw found its target, we were removing my pants and his boxers. They followed the trajectory of my shirt, and Dad kissed me again. He slid his hands into my panties, tracing the parting of my ass-cheeks. I started moaning and gently moved higher up as Dad slid my panties off me. He held them over me until the kiss was over, then handed me the underwear. I got his cue and took them.

"Here you are, slave, catch my panties with your mouth," I shouted at Mom.

Dad and I watched as Mom caught the panties with her mouth. Dad said, "Good girl," and then we resumed our kissing.

Dad kissed me all over my face, nibbling on my ears and nose. He placed the gentlest of kisses on my eyes and practically licked my face clean. His roving tongue tickled me as he ran it over my face, neck, shoulder, armpits, etc. I almost came when he started to suck on my arm-pits - so, that's my advice to you folks, always keep them clean!

Dad then ran concentric circles around my mounds, settling on my pink nipples at last. I don't have much of an areola, but I guess my ultra-sensitive nipples made up for it. Dad seemed to like the taste of my nipple so much that he spent at least three minutes on it. I started coming, and as I started to moan, Dad lent his fingers free play of my pussy. Even as one orgasm subsided, another rose, and before I knew it, he had his fingers in my cunt.

"Daddy," I grunted, "Enter me, now!"

Dad obliged, leaving my other breast alone. At least, I thought he had. I had shaved just that morning, and I let out a loud mew of pleasure as Dad ran his lips over the small hairs. Dad had other intentions than to just enter me - he wanted to eat me. I clutched the bed sheets tightly as he went down on me, licking me, tasting me. He traced my vaginal lips with his tongue, and even as I tottered on the edge of another orgasm, he dove his tongue into my depths. I groaned, flailed wildly, cursed, muttered, closed my eyes - nothing could diminish the intensity of that experience. I came in his mouth, drowning him in my wetness.

I wanted to pay him back by sucking his cock, but he wanted to take a rain-check on it. My body and my heat had excited him to such an extent that he wanted to come. Moreover, he said, throwing a glance at where my mother was watching us, he wanted to pleasure someone else for a change. He pulled me on top of him and guided me over his cock. I was a virgin but I wanted his cock so much that I just plonked myself down on it, immediately releasing a small stream of blood. Dad knew I was about to scream so he quickly smothered my second breast with kisses, and even before I felt the pain, pleasure was flooding me. Dad bit hard on my nipples and I let out a loud sigh as I felt myself come again. By now, though, I was starting to lose count of my orgasms.

I rode Daddy's cock until he exploded. As soon as his sperm hit the inside of the walls, I let myself go. As both of us struggled to maintain our senses, my pussy drained his cock dry. I wasn't under any protection but it didn't matter anymore - I was Daddy's, and he was mine. We were a couple, and we wanted to be parents of our own children. I wanted to carry his baby, to nurse it, to watch it grow up. I wanted a family of my own.

Dad started to pull out of me, but I whispered to him not to. I was not finished yet - I had to dominate my mother. I called out to Mom and she came scurrying over with a bent back.

"You called, Mistress?"

"Yes, Daddy and I are going to have a nice long bath in the tub, so make sure it is the right temperature."

"Yes, mistress."

"And by the way, give me your wedding ring."

She complied, dropping it into my open palm. I took my ring and gave it to her. In the same harsh voice, I told her, "You can wear this - if you want your ring back, you will have to make a new one."

"It is alright, Mistress, you can keep my ring. From now on, this is my wedding ring," Mom said, sliding my ring into her pinky.

"This will be mine, then. Now go. Remember, if the water is too hot or too cold, you will not get any dinner today."

Mom scurried off into the bathroom.

Dad was looking at me with unbridled interest. "I overheard you earlier," I explained. Dad smiled and took out his ring. Tears came to my eyes as he held my hand and slid the ring in.

"I do."

I completed the formality. At that magical moment, our bedroom was our Church, the bed was the Altar and the wall, the Priest.

"I do."

We kissed as man and wife.